But you do have to carry it with you to Toronto

Things I have to do this morning:
1) carefully examine contents of suitcase to figure out what I packed whilst hammered on cheap (yet entirely drinkable) red wine.

Yeah that's mostly it. Oh I should prob eat something, too, because last night's dinner consisted of triscuits, hummus, and lousiana hot sauce and my belly is now yelling at me. Yay bachelorette me. (Why does blogger recognize bachelorhood but not bachelorette? Sexist.)


Told the artist via text last night that I might miss him a little while I was away but he didn't here it from me. What? I told you I was drunk.

Then I proceeded to send him seminaked (and not so semi) photos so that he'd miss me too. He said he missed me already.

Can't carry it with you if you want to survive

So tomorrow I head to Canadia-eh for the little brother's wedding. Which is crazy. I mean, it was one thing when the sister got married, but in my head my little brother is still wearing short pants and staging elaborate WWF battles (the wrestlers, not the animals - it used to be WWF, y'all) in our family room. Probably whilst making machine gun noises.

He did that.
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Just talked on the phone to The artist (he of Monday night's sleepover). I have such mixed feelings about this guy - like I think I really like him but at the same time he scares the living crap out of me b/c I can't figure out if he's actually into me.

Which is, of course, kind of ridiculous b/c sometimes he is so very *clearly* into me.

I know it's just my brain caught up in the crashbangboom chemistry of lust and excitement of liking someone new. Or at least part of me knows.

Part of me just wants him to throw me down and fuck me 'til I can't think anymore.

OK lots of parts of me want that.

I guess we'll see what's up after the weekend, anyway. He's promised to send me semi-naked pictures while I'm away. *fingers crossed*

Let's play 'Hipster or Not?'

So I woke up yesterday morning luxuriating in the thought of having a Sunday off. A Sunday that came after a Saturday off. A Saturday that started off with a cute boy bringing me coffee in bed. Coffee that he made, even. There are worse ways to start a Sundae. Or a Sunday, even.

Of course, it was at this point that I looked over at my laundry pile and realized that it was now taller than me - no mean feat, my friends, as I am a towering 5'3". Towering, I say. I spent a solid 5.3 minutes pondering my choices - go buy new undiepants or actually do the laundry.

Weighing on my decision, of course, was the fact that I'm kinda broke. Also, I'm pretty sure I heard the laundry trying to lure the cat into the pile in the middle of the night. She's kinda plump, you see, and I'm sure would make a tasty tidbit when doused with buffalo sauce and blue cheese. Since I do honestly like my cat, I piled little Pearl (my trusty l'automobile) full with dirty delicates and set off to take care of bidness.

Now, I live in a fairly... eclectic neighbourhood. It's got cafes and restaurants and whatnot, but it borders on a fairly rough, lower class part of town. I wouldn't give it up for anything that didn't include an ocean view, a pool, and a cabana boy. Rawr.

Anyhoo, so I'm busy commandeering washing machines when this fellow walks in sporting a Magnum PI worthy porn 'stache, satiny shortyshorts, a bomber jacket, and a vintage ball cap. Tube socks pulled up, kicks. I ask myself - hipster, caught in an era I'd rather forget, or needs to do the washing worse than I do?


I kept catching myself staring at this fellow and he did bust me more than once. He may have been hoping for a love connection but manohman it was more like a horrific car accident with bodies strewn all over the highway - detached limbs and blood and gore and awful yet FASCINATING at the same time.


I tried to take a few surreptitious photos but couldn't quite do it. Seriously I'm pretty sure there's gonna be a Craigslist Missed Connections any day now, given the quality of creepster staring I was doing.


Ahhh Sundaes.

cast off the crutch that kills the pain

ok so i want to know what weather report jeff o'neil reads 'cause when i got up this morning he was talking about how it's going to be sunny and 18 on friday, but everything i've read says rain. i don't want rain on the long weekend - i want sunshine and happiness and to be able to stretch out on the lawn and read a book and warm my belly like a lizard on the rocks.

next question: crap, i know i had one. man this is like when you go sit on santa's knee and he asks you what you want for christmas, but you totally freeze up and can only spit out socks and underwear when really what you want is a Red Ryder Ranger Model Air Rifle. who the fuck really wants socks and underwear for christmas? (well me sometimes but really am i seriously going to tell santa that? i don't think so.)

so what's up - any plans for easter weekend? we had thought about heading down to oregon, but have decided to stay home and be lazy instead. this home maintenance thing sucks - i hate having to run around all weekend doing errands and cleaning and mowing lawns and and and. i just want to lie about, preferably in the sun (yes, yes i said that, i know), and do nothing really. well maybe have brunch somewhere downtown or something like that but really nothing too high pressure or requiring any energy whatsoever. what i really need is a manservant. any applicants?

oh and ps - guess who got a white blackberry pearl to play with? i love technology....