Junior High School Confidential

Man, here's a piece of advice. If you ever make your way into DC to check out the museums, avoid Saturdays during the school year. Apparently, every junior high in the surrounding area decided to have their field trip to the Smithsonian hot spots this weekend. I know this because I bumped into no less than ten 12-year olds who were forced to take notes about they-don't-even-care-what. They were also attempting to negotiate that awkward space between being cool and being a dork. It's a fine line and one that is made infinitely harder when you are forced to wear matching color-coded tshirts with your school name on the front and "DC Field Trip '07!" on the back. Oh those Jr High days, huh? I just wanted to see some damn rocks and shit.

Yeah, so this weekend has been a long restless one. A nice long conversation with Vivvy on Fri helped keep me out of the local drinking establishment "ubby's iner" (the neon had given up the ghost on some of the letters in the sign, alas). I also watched two men piss in the parking lot so yeah, thank you sweetie for saving me from myself. And ubby's. (And also thank you for your fabulous Harper Lee story. This is why you are my hero. That and your dead-on impersonation of Charles Nelson Reilly.)

Saturday was of course all about the Smith (as I like to call it). Today the dog park (we found one on the east side of town) and yes, I finally mowed the damn grass. In between those activities, I have been wandering here/there all restless and whatnot. Clearly, I need to occupy my time 24/7 before I start down the path of cheap motels and even cheaper booze. I kid, but yeah, I've got to get my shit situated. Oh, to be 12 again! Not.

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