That's what I'm waiting for

I hope that you like it in your little motel
and I hope that the suite sleeps and suits you well
well I can see it as time and a sight through smell and
thats why its nice to be by yourself

Cause thats what I'm waiting for
That's what I'm waiting for
That's what I'm waiting for, aren't I?
That's what I'm waiting for
That's what I'm waiting for
That's what I'm waiting for darlin'

We treat mishaps like sinking ships and
I know that I don't want to be out to drift
Well I can see it in your eyes like I taste your lips and
they both tell me that we're better than this

It rained and its over a shooting star
landed directly on our broke down little car
we fold and we had made a wish
that we would be missed
If one another just did not exist

Cause thats what we're waiting for
That's what we're waiting for
That's what we're waiting on, aren't we?
That's what we're waiting for
That's what we're waiting for
That's what we're waiting for darlin'


- Little Motel - Modest Mouse

Star of P()rn

I swear I'm living a p()rnstar life with the kind of guys that keep coming through this house. Plumbers and repairmen and today, some "restoration" guy who is coming to "survey" my "damage" from the move. Seriously, it's a never ending stream of dudes making appointments to come to the house to do this and that. I think I could turn a pretty penny if I set up a hidden camera and answered the door in my sheer "nightie". Oh, hello, Mr. Restoration Man, I didn't know you would be arriving so soon, you'll pardon my nubile and willing body, won't you? Oh, you've dropped your hammer, shall I get that for you? Cheesy dialogue? Check. Unattractive male actors? Check. Hot sex machine me? Oh yeah. There is cash to be made, ladies, and I could tap into that market. Get it, "tap" that "market"? Good lord, stop me now.

The only problem, of course, is that whole actual having sex business (and it is a business!) I have no problem with having it (love it in fact, hello!) and encouraging others to do likewise. I just reserve the right to pick and choose and so far, um, as Win would say: I must pass. Now where's old Candance the Carpenter when you need her, I ask?

Why am I even having this conversation? Who am I and what am I doing here?

Aside: Do you like how I disguise that p-word up above to keep out freaky folks from finding this site and yet (and this is completely true) someone from Iran googled the phrase 'nippy fucky' recently and found my blog so what can you do? I'm not kidding either. Sorta makes me afraid of what I've written here. Of course, this post is not helping in any way/shape/form.

And with that, I bid you a nippy fucky good day!

FYI

In case this keeps you up at night, you can be reasonably assured that a box of wine can be kept for a whole month without going bad. Yes, friends, I have finally finished off my 3 liters of quality pinot grigio packaged in a plastic bladder this evening. As you know, I purchased said box shortly after I arrived in Maryland. It finally dribbled out the last drop. I'm actually surprised it took me that long to get through it, but that's one benefit of wine in a box: It's not good enough to keep you drinking it constantly, but it's there when you need it.

Speaking of drinking, I phoned my sister after she had apparently finished her own box of wine in one evening because I could not decipher a text she sent me. It was about the bridesmaid dress that I will have to wear for her wedding. Oh, I didn't tell you? Yeah..back to Hoosierland in June to wear a rose colored dress that sounded, as far as I could tell from my sister's slurred speech, sorta like the prom dress I wore in 1987. Rock on! Walk like an Egyptian! I'll probably come back from Indiana with a perm and a satin paisley blazer with stirrup pants. Good times, good times...

ps. Baltimore was lovely today.

Scrob me

Or whatever. Kids with their new technology and all. So I added a link over to the right under all that iPod business to my last.fm profile. Yes, I am joining the "social music revolution" and as such, I have stolen that sassy little beret that Jodie was wearing (holla, Ms Snarker!) and am now ready to take to the streets. The streets of boogie, that is! Get your freak on, aw yeah, lean back, etc etc. Anyway, yes. So another way to stalk, uh, scrob me? Well, do what you must, I say.

This weekend promises to be warm and sunny and for that, I am thankful. A trip up to Baltimore to wander around is in the cards and it is possible that grass will also be mowed for the first time. Maryland grass. Somewhere out west, 2.5 acres of prairie grass is mocking me. You with your tiny yard you could cut with a pair of scissors. You with your riding lawn mower you promised you'd save only for me. Cut your Maryland grass and know that I shall grow higher and taller and greener and shall smell grassier. This is what you get for leaving me, you ungrateful bitch. Mow off!

Yes, you may question my sanity and maturity (holla, Mrs!) but when grass speaks to you, I shall not judge.

Ok, that's it for this fine Friday. There may/may not be some news coming down the pipeline regarding something or other. I am cryptic for a reason so if it does not come through, your heart will not be broken, just mine and privately. See how I save you from potentially unpleasant stuff? It's all smiles and gay rainbows today so I say scrob on, dude, scrob on!

Shake your head, it's empty!

Been awhile since a song's rolled incessantly around in my head but the last three days, this (courtesy of vivvy's long ago rec):


There was no way out, the only way out was to give in
There was no way out, the only way out was to give in
How I love to, how I love to
How I love to give in

Here no one sleeps, one lays up while the other lies down
Where no one sleeps, one lays up while the other lies down
Ask the line on your face what the line on your hand meant
We couldn't see what was coming...

Empty -- Metric

Sakura Matsuri - Yeah, That's How We Roll

So yesterday, The Agent and I ventured down to our nation's capital to check out the tail end of the Cherry Blossom Festival parade and the Japanese street festival that followed. Luckily, the weather and this "nor' easter" that you all have out here did not blow in until last night, so the day was actually nice. I took a load of pictures of the street scenes, various/sundry flowers that caught my eye, and because we were close, we wandered down to the house which is white. Alas, my many suggestions were not well received by its inhabitants so what can you do but admire the pretty trees outside? Here you go:

The IRS Building Which Is Hassling Me About My 2005 Taxes Oh And The Festival




Celebration Of Japanese-American Culture Sponsored By Target




Cartoon Characters Or Anime? Not Sure What They Were Selling




After This, She Will Write A Memoir Or Update Her Myspace




Pretty On The Outside



Shiny and Gold




Trees Blooming




Tulips Tulipping




Video! Of Drumming! Japanese!

Kurt Vonnegut - RIP

I was sorry to hear that Kurt Vonnegut died today. Granted, he was older than I thought, but still. I read any/all Vonnegut I could get my hands on back in the day. His later books and political stuff I was less interested in and it's been a long time since I've revisited him. Not too long ago, I had an interesting conversation with a friend about Harrison Bergeron, I think in the context of that silly show 'Are you smarter than a 5th grader' and the dumbing down of content for the masses. My favorite Vonnegut book to this day remains Galapagos. I think that book sometimes gets lost in the shuffle, but it holds a special place in my heart.

So RIP, Kurt, let us know how that all works out for you..

Rigatoni + Asparagus = Heaven!

Hi friends!

So I am recovering from a curious ailment that involves fever and throat stuff and body aches/pains. How I acquired this is between me and the source, but I think I am turning a corner and all will be well soon. Fevers are fun things anyway, you get to feel like you are on drugs without the drugs! ("I feel funky" *fingersnap* -- holla to the 16 Candles fans out there!) Also, dreaming is X 100 weirder. To the folks on that plane ride we were on last night, sorry for all the screaming!

In the meantime, it's becoming asparagus season it seems and thus, I wanted to share with you my favorite asparagus recipe. I could have sworn I already posted this, but alas, it wasn't under my handy 'recipe' tag and therefore, if I did post it, it's dead to me now. I don't have time running it down and I'm much rather just post it properly and be done with it. Plus, I have an asparagus story that is dying to be retold.

[Imagine me circa 1992, youthful grad student newly arrived to the Great Plains but suffering a unidimensional palette regarding food. We were a meat/potato family, few other veggies, and nothing too spicy or weird. I literally took PB&J to elementary school every day. In other words: Typical Midwestern Indiana Hoosier upbringing. Seriously. I had never literally seen asparagus in my world growing up. So, during the 90's, I hung out a lot with my previously mentioned friend M and her boyfriend/now husband P. We did lots and lots of cooking and wine drinking and drugs. Whoops. I mean of the legal variety like Tylenol for the wine hang overs and such. You know what I'm saying? Anyway, M&P introduced me to a Whole New World in more ways than one. P taught me how to play guitar, I went camping for the first time with them, and we cooked the shit out of stuff. I spent more time at their place than mine and we'd never really eat until 9 or 10. Cooking was a leisurely event, it was social, we'd have music going, it is what cooking is meant to be with friends. It was good. So one time, probably right around now, springish or something, we were going to grill out. M handed me a bunch of asparagus and told me to prep it to steam on the grill. You know how you're supposed to bend it a bit and let it break naturally and discard the ends? So I am doing that and I have two piles, the big ends and the frondy tips. I just figure that bigger is better and that we would be eating those ends. So I dump out the frondy tip ends in the garbage. This is a story that is oft-repeated with much mockery TO THIS DAY. I am reclaiming the shame now by repeating it myself. I now own it. Yes, I was naive, yes I did not know better. Now I do. So after instant mockery and much laughing at me, we rescued the best parts of asparagus from the garbage, gave them a good rinse and went about the business of cooking/drinking/whatevs. And that, my friend, is the story of how I learned to stop hating veggies and love the asparagus. True, dat]

Which brings me to this delicious recipe that is fast and easy and tasty and spring-like and for which I trust you will try because you know it's gonna be good and takes very little effort and I worry when you don't eat.

Rigatoni with Asparagus and Sun-dried Tomatoes

Ingrediants:

1. Rigatoni (1 1/2 cup or two, enough to fill a rectangle baking dish)
2. Asparagus (the frondy bits! the frondy bits! and actually most of it except the very big ends..cut in bite sized pieces)
3. Medium white onion (cut in bite sized pieces)
4. hydrated sun-dried tomatoes
5. Olive oil
6. Balsamic vinegar
7. Parmesan cheese
8. Seasoned bread crumbs
9. Black pepper


Prep:

Heat oven to 350 and boil water to cook the rigatoni while you are prepping the other stuff. Cut up onion, asparagus, and SD tomatoes. In a pyrex baking dish (8 X 11 or whatever), add a good amt of olive oil..maybe half a cup for now. Add in the onions and coat them all up. Put in oven and let them cook by themselves for about 5-7 minutes. Pour yourself another glass of wine and turn up the music a little more. Grate the parmesan cheese if needed. If you're all fancy, use some of that parmigiano reggiano. Pull out the pan and mix in the asparagi (as we like to call it..aspara-guy) and SD toms. Make sure they are well coated in olive oil, add more if needed. Put back in oven for 5-7 more minutes. This is not exact science. Have some wine, is it good? How you doing? Drain the rigantoni and rinse it well. Pull out the pan and mix in the pasta (or pass-ta as they say in other places). Maybe add a bit more olive oil, you decide. Be generous now with your balsamic vinegar, more if you like it lots, less if you just want a hint. Crushed black pepper over it all. Mix it up good. Now put in the parmesan. Do not be shy about cheese, really. So go at it. Mix it well. Now sprinkle the bread crumbs on top and if you mixed up some more cheese in the breadcrumbs, I will not tell anyone. Put this back in the oven and let bake for oh..10-15 minutes? See the thing is, you are just melting the cheese, but you can't ruin it if you cook it a little longer while you are selecting a new CD or opening another bottle of wine. Of course, do not forget about it because you are engaged in a conversation about time/space and let it bake for 30 minutes or some such, it will dry out and you will be sad. Maybe you could spend that time putting together a nice salad. Maybe you are prepping some garlic butter bread to put in with it. All is good. Does that not sound tasty? Are you not hungry now? It's asparagus season, knock yourself out. Just don't throw away the good bits!

Top Ten Things That Currently Occupy a Positive Place in My Thoughts

So, in honor of Win's 1 year anniversary and because I am trying to focus on good things right now, here is my top ten list of things I currently am inclined to think of positively:

10. Macadamia nuts

They are tasty and rich and the texture is divine. I'm a fan of nuts and I like turning other people on to them. So I say: Go bust a nut with Macadamias!

9. Wine in a box!

Advantages: Cost efficient/cheap, seemingly endless, doesn't spoil (at least I think), easy-pour spout made just for one's mouth if things come down to that. Disadvantages: None. Winner: Wine in a box!

8. Little People, Big World

For some reason, TLC is playing a constant stream of this charming documentary/series and can I admit something to you? I really, really totally would love to live on their pumpkin farm. That is all.

7. Bandanas

Back in the day and, you know, if I were a gay man, I'd probably wear, like, a grey bandana in my left pocket or something. Now I wear bandanas on my head because my hair is longer and gets in the way of important things. Like seeing. Or eating. So yeah, bandanas come in handy. Do you like my red one?

6. The View

So, one of the rooms in this house is small and faces the back. I set up my office there and have a desk right in front of the window. The view from that window is really nice, big tall trees and eventually, I won't be able to see the houses behind that area. It's jungle-like and the other day, I counted no less than 15 large hawk-type birds roosting way up, hanging out. The view makes me forget where I am.

5. Text messages

How did we ever survive without them? How did I ever survie without them? All I can say is thank fucking god for texts.

4. GPS units

We have one on loan from the Gov and let me tell you, I would have never made it into/out of Adams Morgan without it. However, we (and by we, I mean me) find the voice to be too naggy and bossy. I will turn left if I damn well want. I also appreciate that every Starbucks in a 100 mile radius is mapped for my mocha pleasure (I've been trying to cut down, but I am only human). I am not entirely sure that the Gov isn't tracking our every movement, but fine, yes, that was me on my way to buy crack and ho's. Sue me, Uncle Sam. Point being: GPS units are scary/great.

3. Accents

I have always been a fan of accents when someone speaks. I am a bigger fan now. There are lots of them out this way, different, new, all kinds. It makes talking to people that much better. Accents are tout a fait delicieux!

2. Baltimore Basilica

I'm not religious, but can I tell you something? This is actually quite beautiful. I imagine it was busy on Easter Sunday, the first since it was restored. I wonder if those people enjoyed how lovely it must have been.

1. Words

Again, always been a big fan, but you know, words = good. Occasionally, I am at a loss for them. Yes, it's true. I am going to try to find the right ones, the positive ones, for awhile. I've been too negative and closed for a while, so it's time to change the frame. So here are some words I like right now either because of how they sound or what they mean: ersatz, croissant, please, crocus, lascivious, pasta, thistle, hydrate, yes, spring.

Thoughts on The Nature of The Human Condition (or Why I Stopped Being a Crybaby and Learned To Love The Season)

Yes, so with all the trees abloom and the flowers flowering and you know, spring springing, my thoughts, like yours, inevitably turn to sex. Now I would love to write a pithy commentary on the virtues and vices of wanton lust. I may or may not have, in the distant and not so distant past, written fictional accounts of such prurient activities. I could certainly try my hand at a poem about the female form (e.g., "O' delicate curves a-dangling/ripe fruit for the plucking/Hark!/is.it.too.crude.to.say/Soon!/we will be a-fucking?") -- thank your retinas that I shall not engage in such lyrical activities. I once did a spoken word piece (on the glory of genitalia) wherein I had an acoustic guitar and simply strummed G-chord in hopes of enticing a response from G-spot. I actually wish I was kidding about the spoken word part (though I am embellishing the subject, it was actually about my 7th grade papier mache art project..actually not kidding). I should also mention that the personal is the political and it is politically and personally unwise of me to delve any further into my own proclivities and activities. Discretion and such. (This is where viv and the Mrs go 'Yeah, right..why did we ever encourage her to drunk dial us? Discretion my ass'). But allow me the liberty to reflect upon one of the finer points and pleasures of the human condition, please. Here is where I will simply say that I appreciate and celebrate (with no amount of playa-hate) the inevitable fact that trees will bloom and flowers will flower and spring will soon be sprung? It's good to be alive, is it not?

Or, in the recently texted words of my friend A: "Stop bawl-babying about this and that, spring is 'do whatever you want' season so quit being such gay crybaby and whore it up. Goodbye."

Indeed, my friend, indeed.

In the park with me

Can you feel spring here? The magnolia trees are in bloom, the cherry blossoms are bursting, daffodils bright yellow, and soon, the red bud trees (one of my favorites) will have their little purple flowers opening up. All the brown will turn to green and I for one will welcome the thousand shades of emerald. You are ready for spring life too, aren't you?

All the voices in your head

Well, glory be! This time, I am actually able to post to the blog. I'm not going to question how or why this particular attempt was special and worked, I will only suggest that the cosmos is choosing to shine its light upon me and this revelation:

Laura Branigan is going to make a comeback in 2007, mark my words. Oh shit..I literally just followed that link, I had no idea she died three years ago. Geez, I feel like a total tool. I really had no idea. I was sitting in the parking lot today in front of a suburban Maryland Barnes and Noble and her song Self-control came on and I was like, man, I totally fucking loved Laura Branigan back in the day. Hello, Gloria? I played that damn 45 record (yes) over and over again. Seriously, those tumultuous junior high days were all about Laura Branigan (and then, high school was all about Prince, but that's another story for another day). I just can't believe I either didn't know or forgot she died. Wow. I guess the cosmos isn't shining that hard on me. Damn. RIP, Laura, RIP.

This does allow me the opportunity to tell you about my iPod misadventure/heartbreak/meltdown/partial revival. Which I know no one cares but me and the people who love my sanity, but bare with me. I won't go into boring details about this new laptop and how iTunes' default setting is autosync with your library and how my library only contained 183 songs I had purchased while my iPod had over 1400+ songs I had imported from CD and then gave some of those CDs away to friends because why would I need them now and you know I had to switch computers and all my stuff was on my iPod and I was happy and no I didn't back that shit up it matters not because what was done was done. So in Cleveland, I borrowed some of M's cds and imported them to add to my iPod (e.g., two Sleater-Kinney cds (holla 3from60!), a Rusted Root (don't judge), and Squirrel Nut Zippers (good old timey speakeasy music!). Later that night, after some hottubbing and some beverages and stuff, I went to play my iPod on their stereo and discovered in horror that everything on my iPod had been replaced with my iTunes library (i.e., 183 songs) and thus, lost 1200+. Needless to say, I was crushed. Seriously. If you could have seen/heard me...not a pretty sight. I actually might have cried.

So I was in denial for a while about this whole situation. I refused to believe it was true. I could not even deal with the idea of having to A) remember and reimport all that I had on there and B) see A. So here is where I tell you about the wonders of ilolo technologies Search and Recover 4 software (available at your finer Staples stores). I had tried some lameass file recovery program I downloaded for free off the internet but to no avail. This program fucking worked (caveat: for the most part, I will return to this point later). It was easy to use and I'm going to try to get my 2006 pictures back that I deleted as well. I highly recommend it.

The only downsides (and there were two) were that I didn't exactly get everything back from my iPod's deleted file/memory. In some cases, I got the whole CD and every song on it (yea!), in other cases, I got only a few tracks from a whole CD (awww). The other downside is that it took the program, literally, about 6 hours to recover the files. I just let it run on its own and went to bed. The next morning, I was able to import all those recovered files into iTunes library and we are almost good to go. Now I just have to replace a few songs here/there. Trust me, I am not complaining, esp since I was the dumbass who got suckered into that default autosync thing. Seriously, that is a major black hole to fall into so beware if you have different computers for your iTunes library or like me, you don't back shit up. Lesson fucking learned, iPod, lesson learned.

And this is the point where you are wondering why you even care about my excruitatingly detailed dorkfest. You are not alone, I'm with you, sister. I'm just so damn happy that blogger's letting me post again (for now). Fear the cosmos!

Now I am off to download Gloria, in memoriam. Because, you know, if everybody wants you, why isn't anybody callin', you don't have to answer, leave 'em hangin' on the li-ine, oooohhhoooh....


ps. Also giving a long-distance shout-out to someone across time/space! Hang in there just a little longer...

I can't log into this gdamn blogger site anymore so I will have to blog entirely through the titles of my posts, god help me. Seriously, what the hell

Your Crab Cake

Well, I am here. I will say no more on the subject other than to report that I have located the nearest liquor store (closed on Sundays in Maryland, fyi) and have purchased wine in a box. That should get me through the rough transition of, you know, moving here. At least until this Saturday when I must stock up because who wants to be boozeless on the Sabbath? Not I. Actually, that whole no liquor on Sunday business reminds me a little of Kansas, until you know, they rejected the notion of blue laws as ridiculous and outdated. I shall now attempt to end what could become something annoying which is: comparison shopping by state. I am now officially resolving never to say things like "Well, back where I came from, you could buy Diet Pepsi by the case for $5, here's it's sold only in 12 packs for the same damn price!" The price of beef reamins unchanged from my last visit and remarkably high. Maybe it's time for me to stop eating things with faces. Excluding of course, girls and such.

I am now proclaiming this blog free of nostalgic reminiscences of the Wild West Days and instead focus on the good things about The Crab. I will not be a bitter relocated malcontent. I will not be a whiny Midwestern transplant to the heartless cruelties that face me on the east coast. I vow to find the good in this state. Here is the first of what I am sure will be many many: The nice suburban mom in Safeway who informed me that Kelly's Liquors is just down the road about two miles and that if you really need booze on Sundays, you can get it as packaged carrout from restaurants (though it will be 3X as expensive). So thank you, Mrs. Suburban Maryland Mom. You have restored my faith that my time here will be full of pleasantries and bountifully helpful individuals.

Cleveland Rocks!

Ah yes, so my time in the Hoosier state has run its course. I drank shitty beer and pokered and second-hand smoked and cussed and ate fried food and visited peeps enough. It is time to go. I have had a few moments of feeling the emptiness of this place, but luckily it has been fleeting. I drove to my old small town and went by Mom's old house three times while I've been in town. Those are the times I remember that this state holds too many memories sometimes. It's ok though, most memories are good and I'm learning to let the most recent and sharpest ones fade a little. It's still tough to drive by the accident site, but you know, it gets a little less painful each time. For that, I'm thankful. Small blessings laid upon us...

So tomorrow I am making my way over to Cleveland. It's a shortish drive so it won't be bad. I'll be visiting my friend M from grad school and her fam. I cannot tell you how much wine will be consumed, but trust me, we kept many a vineyard in business back in the day (we also kept several other vice-makers in business as well -- this lead to a rather complicated yet complete theory of how "time" was really, like, a "circular tube" we all traveled around and like, a "deja-vu" was when you took the same path in that tube and met yourself where the "past" and "future" and "present" all intersected. Yeah...you know exactly what I'm talking about. Anyway. Yes). Plus, she's got a hottub as I have mentioned and you have no idea how there I am with that whole idea. Coincidentally, this will be the second year in a row I will be spending St. Patricks day with them. Last year was up in Portland OR before they moved which was very fun and during which beverages were consumed and it is possible that I might have done a jig of sorts. Like River Dance. Because I am limber. So yes, Cleveland will be a good time and then off to The Crab next week.

Even with all this Midwestern business, I have been thinking about Baltimore. I believe we'll be closer to there than DC, but again, it's all who knows out east. Maps are of no help, you have to figure out the distances with your own body, you know? So I'm wrapping my head around actually being there as opposed to the abstract concept of "moving there". I once mentioned that the only things I know about Baltimore are what I learned from John Waters. I think I'm going to have to rewrite that script a little bit. I have a few ideas in mind..

Ok, that's it for a while. I don't think I'll have the same kind of internet access from here until The Crab so peace out to my homies on the eastside and down south. This is how we roll here in the I to the N to the D. LLYAS! TTYL! Stay cool!

Without Compunction

And another thing. Since I've left (which, for those keeping track, has been a mere two weeks), my friend A has essentially turned into a whore. Seriously. I have been receiving emails, text messages, and phone calls informing me of exactly how much cock she's been rocking. I'm sorry that I should put that so bluntly, especially since you know where my loyalties lie regarding private parts, but damn. I love A. She is like my soul sister. She encourages my vices X 10 and never judges me, but girl is turning into a "ho" in my short absence. Listen, I do not begrudge someone their nook. In fact, I'm the first one to suggest such activities. But I am wondering why, now that I'm like states away, she is getting all out jizzy with it when I had to listen to her bawl-baby about not getting any for literally years. It's "I got laid" this and "I had sex last night" that with her. I am finding it insulting that as her gay girlfriend, she chose now to whore it up when months ago, I would have welcomed a break from the incessant coo-cooing about not getting any. I am tired of her constantly bothering me about how much she is getting laid. I don't even know her anymore. Goodbye.

Paint drying, grass growing, wind blowing

I wish I had more to report than stories about my poker prowess (final table yesterday, but alas, I lost patience and the cards did not fall my way. I was, however, the final woman standing and gave the guys a run for their money. I consider that a success even if I didn't make the money cut).

I am reluctantly bumping up my timeframe to head on over to The Crab. The Agent is getting antsy all under the guise of 'missing the dogs'. Plus, I suppose it's probably a good idea to get there and you know, figure out where things are, like oh, say the grocery store and a dog park or two and last/not least, the nearest liquor store. Before that, I shall spend St. Patricks day in Cleveland. There will be drinking and music and good food and a hottub. If I could add one more thing to that mix (um), I'd call it a day.

So yes. Things are slow here. But what has been amusing me is the whole time change thing. As you may/may not know, for many many years, Indiana was one of the few states that did not adhere to that whole time change business. Growing up, that whole idea was foreign to me. When I moved out of state, I literally would get just a teensy bit angst about when I would have to "spring ahead/fall back" because hello, we never learned that shit. We were either on Ohio time or an hour behind. That's how we measured it. Well, I followed from afar the big stink the Hoosier peeps were having about going with the time change I think last year or something? You thought abortion was a hot political topic? Try daylight savings time in Indiana. Lordy. So this whole past week leading up to last night, the local papers and news programs have been on this constant "Now remember, turn your clocks ahead an hour this Sat. That's an hour ahead now. Don't forget". And guess what? Just as I finished writing that sentence, I answered a call on my dad's phone from one of their friends (who mistook me for my stepmom) and the first thing out of whoever that woman's mouth was "I just remembered, we have to set our clocks ahead, don't we? What time is it over there?" and I said "It's noon" and she goes "I thought so, but I was looking at the TV and it said 11 so I wanted to call and make sure. Thanks. Goodbye". I am not kidding, I just had that conversation.

You know, sometimes, I miss this state and all its quirky little charm. I mean, come on, doesn't this picture just call to you? When you sing "There's more than corn, in Indiana...", you know you are engaging in just a little bit of wishful thinking. Me? I've always been a little partial to corn fields and pickup trucks. I just never know what time it is here anymore..no one does.

I'm All In

Here is what I have been doing since I've arrived in Indiana:

1. drinking Coors Light for no good reason
2. inhaling enough second-hand smoke to equal a five-pack a day habit
3. playing the best fucking Texas Hold em poker of my life (up $100 bucks already)
4. oh yeah looking for jobs in DC online (hello, USAJOBS.com, I've missed you!)
5. remembering that everyone's minor drama is magnified in a small town bar X 100
6. catching a cold that makes me sound like I actually did inhale five-packs a day
7. attempting to avoid the vast amounts of fried cheese and/or fried meat and/or butter and/or bacon grease used in daily cooking here (thank god they sell bags of salad here or else it could get ugly)
8. going out a-visitin' folks
9. cussing like a sailor (see #3 for favored word)
10. appreciating my cell phone and this wireless model like no one's fucking business
11. thanking someone somewhere for something really really good

Week 1 is down for the count, let's see if I can add a few numbers to this list before I leave, huh? Pray it's not something like "got arrested. again" or "found my wife in bed with my best friend and they took the dogs too". Wish me luck!

Back Home Again In Indiana

Lordy!

Two things: Through a miracle of miracles, I have access to an unsecured wireless network. I know. In Indiana. At my dad's house. This fact has been celebrated as the saving grace of my sanity by me and those who care about me and my sanity = you. Thank fucking god! Second, for some reason, I had a hell of a time logging into this damned blogger site until I found a backdoor in. Yeah, slap my ass and call me Washingtonienne but sign me up for some backdoor loving!

Yes so I'm here. The drive was long, long. I am still feeling it. Now that I've found a way to update this damn thing, I'll post more later, but for now, you get to be entertained by my drive. And before you ask, yes, I took these while driving and yes, I am very good with my hands.

Behold the beauty of our Midwest!

Missouri: A Place Where People Actually Live

Special Tree at Special Rest Stop

Again with the Bottom Theme

Apparently, This is Mighty and Starts in Minnesota

Repenting My Highway Sins

Wide Open Spaces in Illinois

Wind Beneath Big Dog's Wings

Wants to Be There Already

Bored Now

On the Banks of the Wabash

Technical Difficulties (Or Why Blogga Hate Me)

Does weary mean wiser?

Dear friends and foes,

Alas, I think this might be the last update for a while. Yes, the circus is leaving town and I must pack my bags and follow. This is the life of a trapzee groupie. We go where we must to watch others fly.

I need not tell you that I am barely standing. First, I have not slept decently in several weeks. Second, my friends have insisted on making me drink pretty much 24/7. Third, there's that whole packing/getting ready to move business (summary: lists of things to do, we sold the house yay!, endless sorting, where's my checkbook? errand running, will I need this? muscle strain/knots - thank god for a massage appointment monday, disassembling too much shit that I just assembled five months ago, trying to cram in last minute visits/lunches/drinks, etc etc, I could go on but why). And finally, my head's been completely off in Baltimore making future plans.

So yes. The upside is I've stumbled upon a fabulous weight loss plan! It's called stress and anxiety! You should try it! Why the fuck was I riding my bike and not drinking when I could drop pounds with no effort on my part at all. I'm actually a pretty laid back person, not Type A at all, so it's not like I'm running around wailing Stress! Anxiety! It's nicely internalized like any good Midwesterner but my body bears the brunt of it. Ah well, things could always be worse so one must buck up like a good little soldier and carry on.

So after this weekend, my internet access will be limited to driveby Starbucks and a lonely 12kb dialup modem in Indiana. I will be driving across country with two dogs and my ipod. I will be spending some time in the Hoosier state and some time in the Buckeye state before heading down to the Crab state.

What I am hoping to do for you is document my journey. You always wanted to see that scary big ass 150ft white cross off of I-70 in Effingham, Illinois, haven't you? Oh I will take a picture of it for you. I will also take pictures of gas stations in Missouri with their genuine walnut bowls for sale. I will take pictures of barren corn fields in Indiana. I will take a picture of Cleveland for you. I will take pictures of I don't even know what in Pennsylvania and wherever the hell else I have to drive through to get down to the Crab. God, I think maybe New Jersey might be involved. I may do a little mono-blogging while on this journey. I will upload these missives when/if I can.

Doesn't that sound like fun? Come now, a 1126.3 mile journey in my Honda Civic packed with things the movers won't take, two 60lb blacks dogs and me? You are up for that, don't lie to me. I can see it in your eyes, you so want to come with. You are itching to play some serious Texas Hold Em with my dad and me, drink lots of wine in a hottub in Cleveland, and get into a fist fight with me in New Jersey.

In fact, I'm so jealous of myself right now, I can barely stand it. Which is exactly why I am getting the fuck out of the house right now and going off to drink with A because she just called and reminded me that I will be gone in five days and hello, I still have obligations to fill as her gay girlfriend. This is how it has been for weeks now. I don't even know me anymore.

I'll check in when I can, post pictures and vids if possible, and think about you fondly while going slightly crazy for all the right and wrong reasons. Stay out of trouble until then, I shall miss all three of you who read this blog! See you in rehab!



Not driving away from myself
It's just myself drove away from me
And now I gotta get it back and it goes so fast, so I am traveling again

- Traveling (I) - Dar Williams

If it's deleted, did it ever really exist?

Hi. How are you? You okay? Been thinking about you. Been real busy. Crazy too. I'm still here. Not gone yet. Still very much here.

So, guess what? I accidentally deleted last year. You know, 2006? I'll spare the details. Too painful. Every picture I ever took in 2006. Yeah. Gone. The curse of digital. The curse of memory sticks. The curse of it all. Oh, there was talk. Restoration this. Hidden files that. I hold out little hope. Shhhh, let us not speak of it ever again. Let us focus on the here and now. Let us be thankful for one piece of 2006 I did save. That is what matters. It will be ok. We will carry on. We will be fine. We have this.

And then there was that time when she..

Yes, so one goodbye party down, two more to go. Last night was (after a few drinks) nice, if not a strange mix. It was mostly people I know through work, but a couple of friends too. I made a total bee-line for the booze I do have to admit b/c I was a little out of it. Plus these were people who have known me for many years in a work capacity and you know how academics are, there's always this (subtle) implicit judgment based on what you do, what you've done, and what you plan to do in the future. And since I'm in a little flux right now with the move and whatnot, I was not looking forward to having to answer these questions. There was also a woman there, someone who is very prominent in her field, who once completely and totally destroyed me one night years ago and who I've always had to tiptoe around b/c she's crazy and unpredictable. Also both of my mentors were there, colleagues now of course (including the host) who are close friends, but who I know expect more of me than what I've accomplished so far. So combine this career anxiety altogether and add in a dose of my own weird headspace and mix in a sit down dinner and you know. I chose to deal with two vodka tonics and two glasses of white wine. We do what we must, yes?

They gave me presents, nice tokens and reminders of this place. And yes, there were several moments where the topic of conversation was forced in my direction. "Feel free to tell funny stories about _____, let's start now!" Yeah, good times. Believe it or not, I do not seek out attention. I can handle it if need be, but my definition of worst nightmare = people telling stories about me in front of a rapt audience and/or complimenting and/or making a big fuss about me. So last night was my own personal roast with work people and you tell me I didn't need to be a little drunk to deal with that.

So today, after this, I am going to start in on the List of Things To Do That Never Ends. I am slightly tempted to augment this activity with booze as well. Thank fucking god I fell off the wagon when I did, I wouldn't have been able to get through this without it. Better living through libation!

Reno 911

I don't care if this is indicative of my character or not, but I am very excited about the new Reno 911 movie coming out. I am all about lowbrow, off-beat comedy and I'm sorry, if you don't think Deputy Trudy Weigel and company are funny, I'm not sure I even know you anymore. Behold:

I will hunt you down and beat the living crap out of you!




I want you to step, bump, step step bump!

You shine, I'll glow

Unrelatedly this song is now on constant loop ipod-wise. You should check it out.


There was me with my pride, standing no ground, standing no ground
We stood and yelled at the tide to turn around, to turn around

Well that day would outlive our best laid plans, our best laid plans
Something just had to give and my castle gave itself back to the sand

I was my own and everyone’s fool
Mutton dressed up as lamb
But now the emperor’s clothes have been torn,
I can see what I am.

So hold my hat for a while, so I feel the rain, so I feel the rain
I'll take an inch from your mile and start again, and start again.

Put a little light in my soul, you shine I’ll glow, you shine I’ll glow.
See I’m hollow and cold, so let me be the lantern that you hold.

And if I take myself seriously,
Then I just get confused.
They say those who can laugh at themselves,
will never cease to be amused.

I wanna find you, wanna find you...

Best Laid Plans - Stoney

Dirt

Like I need one more thing to obsess over or one more show to try to watch. But we are talking about Carly Pope playing a sexy as fuck lesbian drug dealer, Garbo, on Dirt. She's like Ashley Davies' long-lost hot older sister who has some kind of fetish for strung out junkie chicks and who really knows her way around a strap-on. I mean, hello. That's like five vices all rolled into one pretty package. Did you even see that last night? JHC on a damn cracker!

Look at the lip-biting below and tell me I'm wrong.

That is what I call heroin chic

* Icon/pix courtesy of pibby

The curse of sweeping fame/popularity

*sigh*

Yes, so not to beat a dead horse, but we are leaving in 2.5 weeks which is fine, whatever. But as a result, there are no less than 3 large parties scheduled and two lunch dates and that is not even counting the people waiting for me(us) to commit to something between now/then. These are my friends and work colleagues and The Agent's friends and work colleagues. You know I love a party and hey, who doesn't love lunch, but I am less comfortable with the focus and point of the party being on me leaving. Because here's what will happen at two of the large parties (one more so than the other): I will know and (mostly) like everyone there, we will have good food, there will be music, there will be liquid libation X 10, and it will be late and then people will start saying things like "I'm going to miss you" and I will say things like "I'll miss you too, we'll keep in touch" and with most people we will both mean it and then at some point, probably around the 10:38pm mark in the evening, it will hit me (libation and goodbying) and you want to talk about extreme girl-osity? Who cries at parties in one's honor? Ok, who doesn't get a little teary-eyed when peeps you like are all huggy and "goodbye" and you're all huggy and "see you later"? And I can say this without a shadow of a doubt: I hate hate hate getting weepy, number 1 and in front of people? I'd rather be subjected to waterboarding. So my goal is to enjoy the parties and the lunching and attempt to supress extreme emotional responses. Were you not aware that most Midwesterners are stoic to a fault? Actually, I'm pretty sure you knew that.

And for fuck's sake, I haven't even begun to make my rounds of "This will be the last beer I will drink here", "This will be the last Papa Keno's slice I will eat", "This will be the last taz mocha in the history of last mochas because there will never be another mocha like a taz mocha and there is no coffee in Dumb City, goddammit!". You get the pix.

I'm off to do some recycling and goodwilling and never-ending sorting, stuff I was probably supposed to do this weekend, but was otherwise pleasantly preoccupied.

I'm crabby!

Apparently, one of the state mottos for Maryland is "I'm crabby for Maryland!" and it is possible to purchase many items with this upon it. Do not think I won't be getting a crabby thong and a pair of crabby boxers to give as gifts for my friends. Yes, that is the kind of punny shit I live for!

So our house-hunting trip was a success and we found a rental house that didn't break the bank. I am going to have to check myself b/c if I'm not careful, I will be over-using the phrase "Mon dieu! Look how much this costs!" Take for example, beef. I use this as my cost-of-living barometer. The minute I'm in a grocery store in another state, I'm checking out the price for an lb of ground beef and making my comparison. FYI, cost of beef in Maryland = $3.90, cost of beef in Kansas = $2.87. I will not go into the price of Diet Pepsi because it will make me cry. I don't want to be a big old Hoosier while I'm out there and start kvetching like a grandma about the prices but I fear I will not be able to stifle my inner Hoosier. If only my mom were still alive, she's the only one who would have appreciated me calling her up to tell her about grocery prices. We had whole long distance phone conversations about what we bought at the grocery store and what deals we got. I miss that. She would be shocked by the prices at the Giant store in Beltsville, Maryland for sure.

So the dogs missed us mightily. Neither one ate very much or slept while they were in the kennel and now the baby dog has gas like no one's business today. I love that dog, but wow, her belly is upset. They have been sleeping pretty much since I picked them up. Poor things.

So after getting situated yesterday, naturally I called up
A and naturally we went out for drinks. Why was it a good idea to have shots of Herradurra Silver? And red wine? And white wine? And beer? I do not even know. I blame her, check out the email she sent me while I was in DC:

i have decided that i will drink whenever you want these last few weeks, even if it kills me. do you even see what i sacrifice for you? oh, and you had better be back for my hair cut next week or whenever it is. we'll have to drink after that for sure. WHY are you even moving? you'd better get ready and be prepared to be hung over every day. that's all i have to say to you. goodbye.

p.s. the rash is getting better, so stop bothering me about it every second of every day.


Good times, good times.

ps. Check out the iMix my buddy isawsparks made up over there to the right in my iMix links, some good shit going on in that one so check it out! --------->

You told me about nowhere

Well it sounds like someplace I'd like to go

Do you know what is keeping me sane in this crazy space between Baltimore and DC? One song and one song only on repeat while we (I) drive on concrete and wonder how we're (I'm) going to live here. It is this song and that song alone.

ETA: Once again, I am much better the next day after wigging out. I hate being such a girl about this whole thing so I am going to buck the fuck up and be a good soldier from now on! It has been good to be here if for no other reason than to realize that it only takes like 20 minutes to get from here to there when it looks like it'd take an hour or two on the map. It will be ok, it will be an adventure, life is good.

The dashboard melted (but we still have the radio)

I leave you with this

I don't know if/when I'll be updating while visiting Dong City, but I promise to take pictures of a giant shining obelisk and to give Hillary your regards. That city is so Washingtonienne, I hope I come back with some salacious material to write a couple of hot sex books and strike it rich. Wish me luck!

I give you two things to wipe away the politics of smut and leave you warm and gooey:

At least someone had a good Xmas

ETA: Now that I've found my glasses and can see again, I'm also going to leave you with a song recommendation for your weekend listening pleasure. A certain Spark on the East Coast turned me on to Copeland and more specifically, the song When You Thought You'd Never Stand Out. Check it out if only for these lyrics:

In other lives
In a bulletproof suit with some friends of mine
I wrote the plotline
Only I knew who survived
And through the night
In a really fast car on an uphill climb
Blew past a danger sign
And fell through darkness, sublime
But awoke just in time

Didn’t I tell you that I could hear you running out?
Didn’t I find you when I knew you were hiding out?
Didn’t I see you when you thought you’d never stand out?
Didn’t I find you? Didn’t I find you?

Turn that frown upside down!

Uh, I feel better today. I am way too emo these days and honey, it is starting to leak out. Pull it together and buck up, little soldier!

The Agent took today off and we are about to start going through boxes and organizing some stuff. This is apparently a neverending process. But I had a minor freak out last night before I went to meet A (for drinks..again) and realized that after we get back from DC, we will only have 2.5 weeks left. As you know, we're headed out there this weekend to scope the sitch. Time is fucking running out! *deep breath*

Last night, over too many beers, I interviewed my replacements as A's girlfriend. It is a straight woman and a straight man. Yes, it takes two strais to replace one gay. But I figure that covers a couple of bases: the straight girl will shop, talk, and deal with the emotional stuff while the straight man will probably want to sleep with her (already!), cockblock other dudes, and talk about sex and boy parts and whatnot. It's an imperfect solution, but we must improvise when time is fucking running out!

Confidential to Vivvy/Mrs: You might have to get working on an intervention - I have itchy trigger finger and you must remind me what a bad idea that generally is for me. I can count on you to put an end to any potential vices!

I don't know where we are going now

It's cold as fuck here, snowing. I just built a fire and have a glass of wine at the ready. What I have on repeat on the stereo, kind of very loud, is a song I played the shit out of last summer, for reasons I'd rather not confess. It reminds me of warmer days and other things.

facebook

I will be much more brief in this post: Do not allow your straight girlfriend to drink whiskey on a Monday night because she will sign you up for a facebook account so she can "write shit on your wall when you are in Dumb City" and "post stupid pictures of you for all my friends to laugh at, like this one! ha! You are so gay in this one, look!"

Jesus, so now I have this damned facebook thing except it's a little too non-anonymous for my taste (you know I love my secret identities!) and all I need now is a myspace and a xanga account and I can relive my young adulthood when we didn't even have computers, much less things like "blogs". Those were called diaries. And they involved pen and paper and candlelight while Pa whittled by the fireplace and Ma fretted over baby Carrie and baby Grace and I practiced writing Mrs. Almonzo Wilder over and over again. In my diary. Fuck, I need a job. And more drugs. And loose women. I do not ask for much.

You can quote me on that

So I agreed to help out a journalist do a story on some old research of mine and I am now regretting that decision. Naturally, he's got a deadline of Monday so the turn around time for fact-checking etc will be short. I told him I'd rather do it all through email than actually talk on the phone (easier to formulate appropriate answers and avoid misquotes) plus I have been incredibly phone-aversive lately. I don't know what it is, it certainly isn't a reflection on the people calling me, I do want to talk to the majority of them, I just..I don't know. I've been turning my phone off and not returning calls. To top off that bit of anti-socialism, today while we were out and about at lunch and browsing at a bookstore, I had a sudden and intensely deep dislike of the human race. That ever happen to you? You're just going about your business when all of a sudden, something sets you off, like say, an arrogant frat boy sitting in the bookstore talking on his cell loudly about how he drinks lots of cranberry juice and I am like what the fuck, I don't give a shit about your bladder infection or whatever the fuck you have you motherfucking goddamned asshole, shut the fuck up! I mean, like that, I am spouting off obscenities in my head like a sailor over something really stupid and directed towards another human being simply for existing. I actually mostly like people. I am very social. I enjoy having conversations. Today, however, I am in the worst mood for no apparent reason and I fear if I am around people, I will possibly end up in the paper under the heading: Mild-mannered Midwestern Gal Suddenly Hates People and Snaps. Subheading: Arson, Plague, and Scathing Bitchery Follow in Her Wake. So to head that whole thing off, I am going out to the garage to sort through shit and cry about the loss of my fabulous workshop, cursing a certain government agency and their stupid openings in stupid Dumb City. Does this make you want to hang with me right now? Come on over and feel my wrath! Actually, I think I just totally need to get laid in a bad way. There, how's that quote for your damned newspaper, printboy?!

ETA: Oh. Duh. Well, that explains yesterday. Someone out there's breathing a sigh of relief because at least now I know I'm not pregnant!

Sundance

I have no words. None. I am too busy figuring out where I want to squeeze in this pix. Stimulus overload.

ps. I would like to note that about 95% of the time, my hair completely and totally looks like Leisha's in this picture. If she put on a baseball hat, we would be twins 100% of the time.

ETA: Apparently, there's a vid out there as well, they make an appearance at the 4 min mark. I heart Gangsta!Gab.

ETA2: I'm putting these here so I can link to them from somewhere else, never mind me! Thanks spazmatik for the gifs.

Oh now I see...

I found this just for you, cheet. ;)




ETA: I recently found out that my literary hero Jean Teasdale is
Not One of Those People.

What up, you loose floozy!

Oh man, so I've been the crack spider's bitch the last couple of days. I just now escaped!

Here is a brief roundup of my activities: two parties (one lame, one not), snow, open house (again), fire, chili, football, mochas, beer, text messages, phone calls (not answered), emails, plans, etc etc etc. Suffice to say, it sounds as uneventful as it was.

So we've got our plans in place to get out to DC next weekend for a week on a house-hunting trip. It will be mostly about finding a place, getting to know the lay of the land, and checking out the area. We're both having a hard time with getting a good grasp on the distances out there. Maps are not helpful either. I know things on the East Coast are all condensed so what would be a couple of hours distance out here is like 15 minutes out there. I've been to DC a fair amount in the past and once or twice took the train between Baltimore/DC. Still, I have no idea what the distances feel like. So most of our trip will be figuring that shit out and getting a feel for the land and people. It will be like our own private expedition to the new land and its mysterious inhabitants!

That's it for now..

ETA: This email just in from my straight girlfriend, A, regarding a nosy secretary at her work.

I just can't believe she had the nerve to ask if I messed with anyone and THEN if I'm loose. HA! Who says "loose" anymore, anyway? I think we should totally bring that word back...

It can make you gack

So it's kinda crazy here, we're having this damn open house today to try to get someone to buy this awesome place so we (I) have to clean the shit out of the it and then haul the dogs off to god knows where for 2 hours. I spent much of yesterday cleaning. I will spend the next 3 hours cleaning. It's not that we're that dirty, but you know how people are when they're looking at your place with intent to buy: "My god! Did they really choose that awful green patterned duck wallpaper for this bathroom? No way I could live here!" (For the record, no we didn't. The elderly gentleman who lived here before picked it out, blame him, gdamn it!)

Anyway, one of the tasks we're going to do while we're out of the house is take the dogs to the vet for some maintanance. I regret what I am about to tell you because it is graphic and gross but I trust you will look away if you must. These two black dogs that we have are the only dogs I've ever had (and I've had several over my lifetime) who had a problem with the proper workings of their anal sacs. Look away now! See, usually, dogs just naturally...expel...what we refer to as "The Funk" from these sacs when they go about their business. But sometimes, that does not happen like it should. Look away! So they get filled up and then they will leak at random times when you are not expecting it, like before an open house. And you will go: Wait, what's that sme...oh. Anal sac. I shall not describe the smell and only say that this is something humans do not find very pleasant. When that happens with any regularity, one must take their dogs into the vet for a procedure I am all too happy to pay nine bucks for. Look away! The vet will insert his finger into the dog's anal area and squeeze these sacs until they empty. Yes, it is as nasty as it sounds. And thank fucking god someone can be paid to do it! Good times, good times. The Agent and I have, over the years, developed a little rap type song we sing whenever one of the dogs has this issue. Here are a couple of samples for your pleasure:

What's so strong
it'll make you gack?
It's anal sac! Anal sac!

Got a smell that'll
make you step back?
It's anal sac! Anal sac!

Trust me, this will stick in your brain for days if you dare sing it. I plan to use it as a spoken word piece in my next video. Look away!

Finally, we are supposed to get snow tonight/tomorrow. I say "supposed" to get snow because everytime they say it will be anything over 5 inches, it's only ever 1 or 2. Kinda like a guy (or so says my straight girlfriend). I'm hoping for big inches but we will see. It looks potentially promising:

oh la la!

So I have finally received word from my French friend. Her name ends, not surprisingly, in "ine" as do all good French names that I have heard. She actually uses the expression "oh la la!", I always thought that was a myth. It is not. I already mentioned how she lived with me for a couple of months on a post-doc situation and then when I was over visting Old Europe (tm Rumsfeld), she escorted me about, translating and ordering us wine and smoking cigarettes. I love her and miss her and had not heard from her in many months. While she was here, she lived on only coffee and cigarettes and American beer, as far as I could tell. This is why she was like, 90lbs or something crazy like that. The year she was here, there was some serious March Madness going on in this college town because the team had reached the finals. We had perhaps consumed a large quantity of beverages and the main street downtown was crazy crowded with cars and people. It was like you see on those Police Video shows where college kids riot after winning a big game (only of course, there was no riot here, just thousands of happy shiny people out and about at 10pm on a weeknight). My favorite memory of my little French Fry (aside from the turtle incident) is her and I holding hands and running down the middle of the street while cars were at a standstill in the biggest street party ever and we were high-fiving any/everyone. Everyone was caught up in this crazy energy and laughing and I have never seen so many people in one place in this town. We would stop and drink our beers we had hid in our coats with strangers in the middle of the street and we ended up running from 15th street all the way to 6th. We got a beer at the brewery and ran back the way we came, high-fiving all the way. I had to teach her how to high-five on the fly, apparently it is not done in France. She kept missing people's hands and laughed each time. I will never forget how much we smiled that night and hugged and held hands and she was saying 'oh la la!" all the way there and back. It was the best night. I think she maybe even fell in love with me a little, during that time. She has a new house now with her girlfriend and they both are college professors in a French college town and I doubt they have March Madness there, but I hope when that time of year comes around, she remembers holding my hand and laughing for blocks and blocks. I know I do.

BSG = wee!

On a completely unrelated note, we did manage to watch every single BSG episode from the last two seasons and are now caught up. The only problem is that we can no longer remember what's happening in S3..which starts up again this Sun. Yay! And this is what I'm talking about. Hot Starbuck action..





And I so want this jacket:

Wax on, wax off

So remember when I went with The Agent for her hair cut b/c I wanted to get coffee and make an appt of my own? Yes, I assume such mundane events in my life are memorable to someone other than myself, which is totally not true. Anyway, my hair appt was yesterday and my love for my hair consultant Roxanne is legendary. God, I just want to pack her up and move her with us to DC. You know how hard it is to find a hair person you can trust. Especially one who is totally sexy and do-able. I love her. My eyebrows have never known a waxing like the one she gave me again. My hair, with its subtle layering and perfect lift, will never look right again. Who else will let me sit in their chair, discuss booze and drugs and sex, and play with my hair? My therapist never played with my hair. Only Roxanne. I miss her already.

Wind chill X 2

So it's not February, but this song is going through my head today, this part esp:

First we forgot where we'd planted those bulbs last year,
Then we forgot that we'd planted at all,
Then we forgot what plants are altogether,
and I blamed you for my freezing and forgetting and
The nights were long and cold and scary,
Can we live through February?


February - Dar Wiliams

Snow Dogs!

Here is my first full-length feature film. I think I'll call it Dances with Dogs and submit it to Sundance. There is angst and drama and most importantly, an ice/snow storm. You'll note the nuanced work by one of the stars, who you might recognize from her work in a series of performance pieces in the 70's when she and her co-star recreated scenes from obscure French films, with puppets. Those were crazy times, when opium was prevalent and our bodies were much more limber. But I digress..enough talk, let's see some action around here.



I've got a couple of other shorts exploring the same themes. Yeah, this is some serious Merchant Ivory material, it's true. Just waiting for them to upload and you will be the first to see my directorial debut.

ETA: A spoken word piece.



ETA 2: Go get 'em!

DC

At coffee this morning, A asked me: "Are you still going to move to Washington, Dumb City or what?" I told her: "Duh, no, I am moving to Washington, Dong City." She said: "Fine". I said: "Fine". The end.

Gotta fix my weave and holla!

A couple of things in no particular order:

It was 60 degrees here yesterday. Today it is 11 and sleeting/snowing/icing. Fire tonight!

The Agent has misplaced the combination to our safe sometime around our last move. As you know, she is a stickler for safety and such. If I weren't living here, she'd have a gun secreted away in every room for easy access to guard against intruders. Anyway, we keep our impt paps in the safe and I also put a few things I didn't want destroyed in a fire (remember when I briefly considered simply burning down the house when I realized how much stuff we had to move?). She has no idea where she put the combination and (unusual for me) I apparently never bothered to write it down somewhere. She did not take the lock picking and safe busting course so we are up shit creek for awhile until it turns up. Hopefully, I won't need my birth certificate anytime soon.

ETA (1/16): Combination located! You can now rest easy knowing our important papers and my mom's handcrafted Christmas ornament are safe and accessible. Carry on!

I had a much needed chiropractic adjustment this afternoon..a two week long headache convinced me that it was my neck out of whack so there was adjusting and cracking. It was heaven.

While I was out/about, I of course stopped and got a double mocha and also decided to rent yet another Battlestar Galactica disc. As you know, we have been slowly plodding our way through the past two seasons and right now, we are on Season 2.5, Disc 2. As god is my witness, we will make it through Season 2 before we move, and hopefully, before 3.5 starts! This is why I am reluctant to get involved in too many shows, the commitment is too great. All I have to say is that if the rumors going on about my beloved Starbuck are true, I shall be mightily disappointed. If I watched 3 seasons and lost my object d'lust, I will kick some frakking ass. I do not kid about that. Aside: The blooper video on that link is HI-fucking-larious! I laughed and laughed..

Apropos of nothing, but Jesus H. Christ, how can people actually pay attention to anything Giada De Laurentiis cooks with that kind of cleavage going on? You know I love my Food Network peeps, but Giada is killing me with the decolletage. We've already established my appreciation for all things mammary, but lord, how can I learn Everyday Italian if I can't focus on the food?

Finally, The Agent has an appointment with my beloved Roxanne tomorrow morn. I'm going along for the ride to not only make my own appointment to see her (my hair has grown to ponytail length and is a little too wild for public consumption), but also to meet A for coffee while we wait for gf to get her hair did.

On that note, I will leave with words of wisdom from the great Missy "Misdemeanor" Elliott:

What's up motherfuckers?
I need to know is V-A up in this bitch?
New York, St. Louis, Chicago, Philly, LA, Atlanta
I'm diggin' that
But how about the ladies that got a head full of fake weave or braids
Holla at ya peoples
Oh! C'mon

Ooh baby let me fix my weave
Touch me up and let me fix my weave
You could pick me up about a quarter to 3
Before I walk in the club I gotta fix my weave
(Oh) Baby fix my weave
Baby baby let me fix my weave
On the highway I do above 90
(woo-woo) pull me over get the fake ID

I met a guy named Tommy
Very charming
He was on me like cheese be on macaroni
His game real tight making me so horny
Fine enough for us to fuck and be his baby mommy
You really don't know me
So I moves it slowly
Brush up and let him hold me
Let me spit some baloney
Baby you could call me
If you go down on me
But you got to back up off me
Wearing cubic zirconia
I told him, "Baby let me fix my weave
I got a hair out of place and use a fake ID."
Pepe LePew voulez vous ooh oui
You want to misdemeanor me
You gotta spend more G's (ohhwee)

Ooh baby let me fix my weave
Touch me up and let me fix my weave
You could pick me up about a quarter to 3
Before I walk in the club I gotta fix my weave
(Oohwee) Baby fix my weave
Baby baby let me fix my weave
On the highway I do above 90
(woo-woo) pull me over get the fake ID

I used to date a guy named Chris
Sloppy with his kiss
But he was good with his tongue
I called him Mr. Young One
Mr. Young One had a big ding-dong
Balls the size of ping-pong
I had him souped like won-ton
I put the beat on
And on my ass he skeet on
I put the heat on young gun
Fresh meat he season
Yes, yes we used to creep down the beach
He was insane like Rick James
And with a mask he's Superfreak
I told him, "Gimme cash to fix my weave
And I don't want no excuses 'bout your baby mommy
'cause your child support money don't fix my weave
and you know nigga please me no fuck for free."

To the heavy weave cities
Miami, Jersey, D.C., the Carolinas, Detroit, Louisville, Ohio, to all the
projects
To the beauty salons, and curling irons stitching in that hair
Okay, oohwee yeah fix your weave
Straight up like a perm you heard

The wheels on the wagon go round and round

Mon dieu!* I missed a phone call from Vivvy and The Mrs tonight! How did that happen?? Oh, here's why: I have my phone on vibrate. Not for prurient reasons (though they would appreciate that), but because I had a lunch meeting and forgot to change the setting. Nice. I probably missed a delicious boobie conversation! I am sad. I know you only get like one phone call a day from Betty Ford so I am sorry to have missed it. I can only wish that we might exchange pleasantries this weekend when I call you back. I must hear of your Big Apple exploits ASAP!

So speaking of rehab, as you know, the last couple of months I've been riding around on my little wagon feeling all sober and stuff. It's been good, the pounds drop off like nothing when you stop drinking and are crazy exercising. I did the whole cold turkey thing too - if I give any of my vices an inch, they take a mile. But yesterday, as I was having my hallucinogenic coffee downtown, my friend J walks by and pretty much forced me to go next door to the brewery. For beer. Because now that I'm moving, apparently that means that hello, I only have a little time left to cuss/discuss with my peeps and those activities require lubrication. So I shall be giving in a little bit more to temptation in the name of solidarity. I am hoping not to go overboard and get all drunky left/right but such is the state of my vice. As such, last night also involved some red wine and maybe a little dancing was done. This morning I remembered the headaches associated. Good times! The only downside to my little slide was some loose lip action. I might have mentioned to A that she was the topic of a post or 8 on here. And then I had to backtrack a bit because this blog is a little undercover (like, even The Agent knows nothing and she's trained in interrogation techniques) and it was a slippery slope. All because of the booze! You cannot keep secrets when you are drunk, duh.


*I'm currently trying to work this phrase into my life -I need more expressions for being aghast and taken aback by something.

I'm legally high!

On my third cup of coffee right now, sitting downtown at the Taz, and filling out some serious government job applications. God, if I had known I could breeze through bureaucracy with the ease and carefree abandon I currently feel, I'd have mainlined Sumatran beans long ago. I wonder if one could snort ground expresso off a stripper's ass or would that be unseemly? So, yes, sending out resumes and jumping through hoops. I see pretty colors! Oh, shiny object! Cute young things walking by! My insanely huge iMix tunes! Coffee! Jobs! Heart murmur? Nervous twitching? Shake it off! Legal vices rule!

Outfield

Jumping in quickly to say that I cannot stop listening to The Butchies cover of Your Love. It's killing me. Softly. Yeah, it's been out awhile, but where was I? No clue.


(Note: If I were the admitting kind, I'd make mention that I saw The Outfield open for Bon Jovi sometime back in the 80's...)

Word Up

Ok, you've probably already seen this and I have no idea what the hell or if this Girltrash business is even going to be any good, but you know I'm going to be checking in if only for these two. GC attempting to be all bad girl? Sign me up!

Gabrielle Christian

And of course:

Mandy Musgrave

(Ok, secretly? I never know which one I want more. Or how pervy I am for being twice 1.72 and 1.90 times their age.)