Adventures in Sobriety

There have been no altering substances in my body for exactly 6 months as of today. No alcohol. No weed. Nothing other than pain reliever and an occasional dose of caffeine which I must have to start my day or it's just bad for everyone and a migrane is produced. Sobriety was inspired due to the last episode where after having some fun, thoughts of my house burning down, excessive anxiousness, convinced Sammy the cat was left for dead, and essentially having conversation after conversation in my head which did not end up with a favorable outlook on anything. Six months sober has not been achieved since probably age 13. After that age, there was always something available on one level or another. It seemed impossible to achieve but the day has arrived.

Some pretty darn good things have happened during this "time out" period. It is no longer required to make a list to do everything. Short term memory loss has improved some and its less and less often that I find myself in front of the hallway closet saying "What am I looking for again?". Riding up Bernal hill on my bike after yoga class causes feelings of being winded but no longer creates the sensation that lungs are bleeding or are going to come heaving up and out onto the pavement. It's easy to recollect the evening of activity. No longer are the questions asked of "How did I get here?" or "Why are my shoes still on?" while passed out in bed. Have not awoke in a pile of gravel in quite some time. No excruciating migranes due to marginal vodka. I have yet been forced to make and apology to Miss B for saying or doing something that certainly would have only happened had several drinks been consumed. The fog has lifted a little bit. Maybe someday I will start ripping tubes again but not for now.

180 days and counting....one hour at a time.

Come out come out where ever you are!

Went out to dinner at Chow last night with a friend from middle/high school in good old Prairie du Sac, WI. Miss B joined us and it was an evening of rehashing growing up G-A-Y gay in the midwest. Brett and I got to know one another in 7th grade in our fast tracked english class. Yes, we are old enough to remember the tracking system. All the smarties were in one class, average Joes/Janes in another, and the struggling scholars were lumped together in their own class. This seemed to work in the early 80's and am sure it still exists in one form or the other, the simple difference is that it isn't called tracking per say. Anyway, Brett and I attended the class taught by Mrs. Bender. She was fantastic! Mrs. Bender was meant to work with kids in their early teens. She just got us. I'm pretty sure Mrs. Bender knew how "special" Brett and I were even though it was unbeknownst to ourselves. Oddly enough, we both waited until our later 20's to come out. What were we waiting for? Who knows. We both blame it on our Lutheran and Presbyterian upbringing and the fact that we didn't really know what the heck it meant to be G-A-Y gay. There we no examples of it and it certainly wasn't talked about around the dinner table. I mean really, picture Mel Lohr saying "Ah yeah, I was down at the feed mill today and I saw Farmer Jimmy and his partner. They were on their way to the HRC rally downtown being put on by the Catholic church.". It didn't happen like that at all. The only images seen of gay culture in smalltown USA were from television. Charles Nelson Riley of Matchgame, Richard Simmons, and Mr. Brady which was confusing because he was married to Carol and posing in the straight world. Oh, and speaking of the Brady Bunch, don't forget Alice who was perhaps the only dyke icon in the limelight. Being gay was not a topic for discussion. And if it ever was brought up it was whispered and people were said to be that way with a limp wrist motion. Words like fag and queerbait were considered completely acceptable and used frequently. Perhaps it is becoming clearer why Brett and I came out of the closet but it took a whole lot of kicking, screaming, and clutching to the closet door first because we didn't want to be different or that way. As we got on into high school Brett was in the show choir and I was a dyke jock. Our circles didn't run as frequently together but still our paths crossed. We were seen as these two oddities whom could get along even though we belong to such opposite social arenas. The lines were crossed. We ate lunch together from time to time, went out for pizza here and there, and heaven forbid, I even attended a musical or two which he was cast as lead. (I love musicals and this is hard to admit, even now!) Over the years we have stayed in touch and it's always good to see him. He now lives in Washington DC and has been with his partner for 10 years. We talked a lot about how it's odd that we gays simply can't have the same rights that straight couples do like medical power of attorney, estate planning, visitation rights in the hospital, and all the stuff the moral majority is afraid we are going to "ruin" should we be given these rights. And now we have a president who thinks it's a great idea to change the constitution to take these rights away for certain. Using a document like the constitution to discriminate against others. That's pretty smart, don't you think? Our disdain for Monkey Bush was discussed at length as well. And rather than be in fear that he will be re-elected, Brett suggested the power of positive thinking and to think thoughts of President-elect Kerry. I'm with Brett on that one.

As I was on my way home I thought to call my family and let them know that I saw someone from the midwest whom they know. This always makes them really excited. We were chatting for a bit after they asked what Brett was doing now, how his family in WI were doing, blah blah blah, and the discussion moved towards politics. My dad asked who I was voting for and I said the choice was obvious. He then went on to state the President Bush was in Onalaska and "Kerry the Fairy" was in Milwaukee. Hm. And I wonder why I was afraid to come out....

Random Acts

My friend Ted hopped on a plane to go rally folks in Ohio to support soon to be Presidential elect John Kerry. Ted has always been politically charged and involved on some level or another but it's this election where he is pulling out all the stops and jumping in head first. Random acts which helped him to get there are as follows: his friend gave him frequent flyer miles so the plane ticket was free, friends of his parents live in Columbus so he is sleeping in their spare bedroom during his stay, his work is allowing him a leave with no repercussions, someone is loaning him an extra car once he gets there to get around in, and without all of this, it may not have been possible. It's times like this when I think that people are amazing and how far a few random acts can go. The other night a woman said "Every night before I go to bed I ask that the next day people treat me the way I have treated them.". If everyone did this, it might very well be a more friendly place. The baked bean lady and curmudgeon downstairs neighbor might not be fighting right now if they thought this way. Monkey Bush might not be defending oil at the cost of human lives and suffering. There might not be so much road rage, honking, and flipping off on the highway. Take a few minutes, breathe, and think about what you are doing. Randomness begets randomness. Hopefully Ted's random act will pay off and get a democrat in the White House. Three cheers for Ted!

The election is one week away. Evidently lawyers have been lined up in the event that there is a contested election. It's going to be close and it makes me nervous. It could be weeks before we know who is President if it is a contested election. You know as well as I that Monkey Bush has the money, power, greed, and "moral majority" behind him to buy himself the throne again. I am going to figure out what random acts I can do to prevent this madness from continuing. I'll let you know what I come up with.

Sleep Hangover

Today was such a struggle to get out of bed. The alarm began alarming at 6am to get my ass out of bed to run a meeting at 8am. Usually it's merely sitting and being a participant. Instead, it was all about finite scheduling and facilitating the meeting which brings drugs into the world from the leader in biotechnology. Whatever. Sleep would have been far more satisfying and more than likely would have done the universe a favor rather than have my groggy ass walking around in it. A sleep hangover is not the way to start the day.

The hangover was from an over abundance of sleep experienced over the weekend. This wasn't a light snooze, a little nap or two, this was a straight up coma. Miss Becky and I went to the Russian River for a getaway Guerneville style. We rented a cabin which was found online from a rental service. From the ad/pictures it looked nice enough and would do for a weekend in the woods. Upon arrival in Guerneville, keys were picked up from the rental agency. The dyke in charge had, what looked to be a mullet in the making. (Long in the back, short up front.) She had lots of suggestions for fun activities in town, places to eat, spoke of how wonderful the cabin was, and finally, directions to the crash pad. It was about two miles out of town in the middle of nowhere. There were other cabins around however it is off season and the whole "culdesac" was totally deserted. Once there, we were completely amazing with the A-frame rental. It couldn't get any better! The pictures certainly didn't do it justice and Miss B and I kept saying "I can't believe this!". There was a outdoor hot tub, full kitchen with greenhouse-like windows overlooking a creek bed, fireplace, giant stereo and TV, as well as a very Zen decor with tons of candles. It was fantastic! We cooked an amazing dinner and retired to bed around midnight on friday. The night was so quiet and pitch black that it freaked me out a little. I awoke in the middle of the night in need of relieving my bladder when panicked thoughts struck of Jason movies or even worse, Chucky, the knife wielding puppet. That far out in the woods, why is it thoughts such as this come to mind? Is it that there are no street lights? No neighbors? Unfamiliarity now that the urban way is what is known? Not sure. Anyway, upon waking I did hear the rain had started and it lulled me back to sleep in a heartbeat not to awake until 10am. I have not slept for 10 hours straight since the days of being incredibly hungover unable to do anything else. Perhaps a more appropriate way to describe it would be that Miss B and I hibernated. The woods cast a spell on us. What an amazing feeling. However, today I am super slow and wanting to crawl back into bed. The thought of going to work makes me exhausted. And have felt that way throughout the day.

As for the rest of the weekend, we certainly did things other than sleep. The hot tub was heavily used, Miss B played guitar while I cooked, listened to music, giggled a whole lot, and watched two of the most lesbian movies EVER, Gia as well as Personal Best. No idea how I ever missed seeing these previously. Don't you get these films issued to you along with the toaster oven and flannel once you come out as a dyke? Personal Best was perhaps one of the most stereotypical dyke films ever made. The sad thing is, the majority was accurate! It was long, silly, and rather slow at times and of course I fell asleep as always when I lay down to watch a film. But the important parts were viewed and apparently I have become a full flegged lesbian upon the completion of the viewing. Gia was about a heroin addicted lesbian model from the 1980's. She was the goddess of heroin chic. The next thing ya know it was time to pack things up and head back to the big city to leave Jason and Chucky in the woods.

In other news, evidently loads of explosives have come up missing in Iraq. How in the world can this be? Oh, never mind, we just lost a shit load of f-ing explosives. Can you believe that noise? We can protect all the in's and out's to the oil which we have secured but the armed forces we have in Iraq cannot keep explosives from wandering off. Monkey Bush really needs to explain this one to the American people. Oh, also, the brilliant one is also taking the top security adviser and peddling her around the country to appeal to the women voters. Never, ever, ever has anyone been so desperate as to pull a tactic like this one. It's low and completely unethical. But then again, isn't that the way of the Monkey Bush? Encouraging news is that Kerry is making progress in the swing states. He has to. He just has to....and how refreshing was it to see Bill Clinton out and about? God I love that man. Can we just make him President again and be done with it? PLEASE?

I'm taking my sleep hangover and going to bed.

Ten Minutes Per Day

While at a Q&A session post book reading by Augsten Burroughs, an aspiring author asked him for words of advice. Augsten suggested that no matter what, above all else, to write at least 10 minutes per day. Even if it is writing about the gum you saw stuck to the sidewalk, by all means, write. This spurred thinking surrounding what kinds of things I do during a day and how long they take, and if it is more than 10 minutes. So what's on the list, day in, day out? (note, the things listed here are events which are done for a solitary 10 minutes, no multitasking allowed, this and only this activity therefore things like eating lunch or drinking coffee are things I do not do on a single basis--lunch is spent milling through emails at work or problem solving and coffee is consumed while driving to work) Hot shower, cooking dinner, writing in this blog, reading E and A's blog, and that is about all I can come up with in terms of spending a solid 10 minutes doing one thing and one thing only. Hm. Is this a sign of ADD? Is this a sign that most time is spent multitasking? Wow. I thought I would have a bigger list.

Met a guy last night who spent 20 years trying to get off the junk. His story was of heartbreak, terror, crime, alcohol, living on the streets, violence, and suicide attempts. How do people walk away from this kind of stuff? What is it that hits them over the head when they have become this far gone to say "I really need to change this." and they do. It's quite an inspirational story and makes my life seem that much less complicated. Correlation? He also stated he writes ten minutes per day. How about that.

My special lady surprised me with a visit last night. The deal was on Sunday that we would not see one another until Friday when we head up to the Russian River area for a little R&R. How delighted I was to snuggle up with my sweetie. Sammy however was not so thrilled as when Miss B stays over, he usually retreats to his chair. Snuggling up with Miss B, now there is something I could do for sure at least 10 minutes per day.

Tonight is yogurt and then home to pack for heading up north. It's time to bust out the flannel and become woodsy for the weekend. Can't be a lesbian in Guerneville without one!

Boxed Lunch--An evening at the Lesbington

The Lesbington Club (also known as the Lexington) was packed last night due to the release party for the book entitled Boxed Lunch. This is the only drinking establishment in the city of San Francisco which is for lesbians 24/7. In order to be a very socially active/aware lesbian here, a good calendar must be kept to ensure you arrive at the right bar, the right time, on the correct date. If not, you could be very well walking into Fag Fridays at the End Up or a Tighty Whitey/mud wrestling contest at the Eagle. (Which is not a bad thing at all!) If it is ladies being sought, be sure to check and recheck prior to making the trek. Hm. That rhymes. Go figure. Anyhoo, Boxed Lunch is all about the art of making women very happy down there. This is a term my mother introduced to me when explaining the birds and bees, to make her point that it was in fact sacred territory, no boys should ever touch me down there. I took her advice and look at me now. Perhaps I was a literalist from the very start. Give me clear instructions...Again, off topic. Ladies turned out in droves to get a look at the new book and one another. My friend A decided that it is always best to be escorted to the Lesbington, never to go it alone. Sort of like camping...you never know what might be out there. Plastic caps, greasy hair, pants falling off the ass, oh my! There was a nice girl at the bar named Corinne whom had recently moved to the city from Minneapolis. She grew up in North Dakota but didn't have a Midwestern accent which is shocking. Have you ever seen Fargo? Now there is an accent! Corinne was not tainted by the ways of the Lesbington. She actually spoke to someone she did not know, that being myself and Adriana. There are a few unspoken rules at the Lesbington. 1) do not talk to strangers 2) do not look at anyone outside of your direct circle of friends 3) appear to be horrified and run away quickly should anyone new attempt to talk to you. Make them feel like an idiot for doing so. These three rules, among others make it very challenging to meet girls at the bar. The DJ was in a serious 80's mode. Played everything from the Footloose soundtrack to Michael Jackson. Why is it lesbians love 80's music so much? Is it because it is familiar? Reminds them of being younger? For some, it may in fact be seen as "so retro!". Mind you there is nothing wrong with 80's music. Perhaps the DJ is spinning her youth record collection and doesn't want to invest or upgrade to the 90's or 2000's. At any rate, it was a good night out and Ms. Diana got a very good turn out for the book release. Three cheers to better pleasure for women down there!

After looking around for a bit upon my arrival at the Lesbington, I was reminded once again (perhaps the 800th time that day) how lucky I am to have found Ms. Becky. I do not have to sift through the trolls, plastic caps, socially dysfunct, freaky in a not so good way, plethora of women whom always made me nervous and extremely uneasy, looking to find a potential dating partner in crime. I have found the dating partner and she makes my heart go all whooshily inside day in and day out. So much more wonderfulness than I ever could have imagined. Perhaps it's because I found her in the park and not at the Lesbington. Although through a random turn of events we did end up at the bar after the park. At any rate, I have got myself a wonderful gal and will do my darndest not to mess this one up! I really don't want to get thrown back into the world of plastic caps, PBR, and being so nervous all I can do is look at my shoes.

On the political news front, I was listening to an interview on NPR (big surprise!) with the man who was the genius behind the movie about George W. Bush, the counter to Fahrenheit 9/11. The topic at hand was how President Bush has blurred the line between church and state moreso than any other president in history. (Why is it "more than any other president in history" keeps coming up as a term to describe this buffoon?) Once in office, Monkey Bush developed a "Prayer Team" whom are on staff at the White House 24/7 in the event of a world emergency. Sure, he needs to do whatever he needs to do but why are my federal tax dollars paying for Team Prayer? Monkey Bush needs to keep religion and state separate. Our existence as a country depends upon it. No more pushing the right wing Christian agenda on the US of A! This interview went further to state that Monkey Bush was chosen by divine intervention/divine right because of the statement that he felt "the lard was telling him his country needed him". I think it all the coke he snorted was messing with him. To quote another Republican, why didn't Monkey Bush Just say no!. Please answer that question for me. So much for our cokehead President.

Generations of Monkeys

The morning started at 6:25am with KFOG buzzing out of the alarm clock. BAM! Snooze was hit. Again at 6:34am. And one more time at 6:43am. It was time to get up. Regardless if my body wanted to or not. What made today particularity challenging was the torrential rain pouring down accompanied by high winds and a very cold apartment floor. The orange guy Sammy was curled up next to his favorite radiator (me), purring non-stop. It is grey, foggy, and the damp cold has returned which only San Francisco can provide. The day as well as the bed was screaming that the ideal thing to do would be to pull the covers up tight, sleep as much as possible, and spend the day there reading, snuggling, never to leave the house. This however didn't happen. Eventually Sammy was given some belly rubs, ear scratches, and kisses on the head and plopped off the bed to head for his food bowl. He knows the routine all too well. As soon as I even remotely move towards sitting upright, he heads to the kitchen to await kitty chow and fresh water. What is nice however is that he allows me to sleep and never interrupts a good slumber with whining to be fed. Feet then meet my "house slippers" (these are actually addidas swimmer's sandals but the preferred term is house slippers because it's funny) and it's time to shuffle off to the kitchen with one eye open to feed Sammy. I hate getting up in the morning. And I mean hate. There are times when I cannot believe I ever lived on a dairy farm where it was required to get up at the crack of dawn to do chores before school. There were also times when basketball practice was at 6am. It was when practice started. How in the world I ever managed to run up and down a basketball court at such an ungodly hour with no caffeine is beyond comprehension. Anyway, eventually I made it to the coffee shop and got on the road to find the typical traffic jam of Californians during the first rainstorm. What is there to be afraid of? It is rain for pete's sake. It would be very interesting to take a native Californian and drop them in the middle of say, northern Wisconsin after a sleet/snow storm. How in the world would they deal with maneuvering a car on black ice covered in a light dusting of snow? Rain people, it's rain. Oye veh. The usual 10 minute commute turned into 30 with all the apprehension on the roads. Will be the same scene tonight making way back into San Francisco. One of the greatest mysteries of the west coast--freaky drivers at the very first drop of rain.

Headlines stated today that the race for President has gotten nasty. Hadn't this happened a while ago? Sides are drawn and it's hard to say who is winning at this point. Monkey Bush is repeating his same 5 lines. 1) Kerry said terrorism is a nuisance 2) Kerry said the word "lesbian" on television, can you believe that? He will say anything to get elected 3) wrong war, wrong place, wrong time 4) Kerry raised taxes 98 times 5) Kerry wants big government, to spend your tax dollars, and is on the left bank of liberal. Both candidates are exaggeration masters at this point but I choose to support those exaggerations of Political Skeletor. At least he isn't willing to throw more of our tax money into a war over oil and wants to make a way to peace. The US of A needs to get out of the world policing business and move towards taking care of matters at home, within our boarders. Enough of this world leader pretend hoo-ha which has created the largest deficit seen since Grandpa Monkey Bush was in office. How is it that Americans were so quick to get rid of the first Bush but can't seem to make the same appropriate decision now? He's worse than GMB. I'd like to tell Monkey Bush to take his 5 very repeatable lines and shove them right where the sun doesn't shine. And I don't mean Alaska in the winter months. This race is ugly and on the verge of getting even uglier in the last two weeks.

It's no wonder I didn't want to get out of bed today!

Goats: The Pesticide of Choice

The city of San Francisco has purchased hundreds of goats to alleviate hillside rubbish. The goats are set loose to graze in areas which are too difficult to reach with machinery. This also avoids the use of harsh chemicals to somewhat kill weeds, thistles, and brush which otherwise would have been put to death via pesticide. Another added benefit is that the goats can take out brush which takes several hours for a human to take out. Goats can do it in a matter of minutes to that of hours/days of beautification crews. It's rather innovative for the city don't you think? The only other time I have ever heard goats being used for this was once again, in The Gambia. They were utilized and housed at the international airport (which essentially was one landing strip and had so many pot holes it's amazing it remained open for travel) to keep the weeds down on the runway and surrounding area. These goats were often killed by incoming planes as the men in charge of the goats were often on their attay tea breaks when they should have been tending to the animals. The goats haven't been sighted in Bernal Heights since taken away on Sunday in a big truck. I don't know if this was just temporary housing and when they will be back. Where are they now? Twin Peaks? Ocean Beach? Nob Hill? All this was learned while standing in line at Cafe Commons awaiting a latte Sunday afternoon. Of course Soonae, the coffee shop owner had heard about the goats from Miss B earlier in the day and she felt compelled to ask me about it which then got the crowd buzzing about the goats. Apparently I was not the only one confused. A keen eye will be on the lookout for future goat sightings.

I have been going to acupuncture for about a month now to treat a bonespur on the heel of my left foot. It's a big calcium deposit which presses on my muscle and hurts like the dickens. The spur was discovered in 2000 after a nasty spill down a curb when making my way into work, resulting in a twisted ankle, a trip to the emergency room, x-rays, and a cane to aide in walking for a short period of time. It didn't begin to hurt/cause problems until my trip around the world last fall. Came back, went to a poditrist, he prescribed orthodics and stated there was nothing else to do short of surgery and to find alternate modes of exercise. Since then, the orthodics don't really work and it got to the point where it hurt to even put on my shoe. Acupuncture? Why not. What this entails is three huge needles to be jammed into the sole of my left foot. Then electrodes are hooked up to send a mild current into them to bust up the calcium deposit. Since starting this treatment, the spur has gotten smaller and it simply doesn't hurt unless I really press on it. (So don't do that!) Today was the first day I have gone running in over a year where it did not hurt. Mind you, I am super slow and only made it for 25 minutes. It's more than I have been able to do in a very long time and am cautiously optimistic that this may in fact be what works. The true test will be upon waking in the morning to see if a pain shoots through my foot and sends me screaming in pain. However thus far, it's a greenlight.

Michael Moore was on Fresh Air tonight, a program on NPR. It's frightening how much of an NPR addict I have become during these very political times. It's what is on in the car to and from work. If I could concentrate with it on at work it would be there too. The topic was the film Fahrenheit 9/11, the Bush campaign, and the country being so split. He actually wasn't all Michael Moore about it. His agruments were not so bleeding liberal as they were simple facts. Seemed to be more effective and captivating than the other side of the rhetorical baloney otherwise touted on his behalf. Don't get me wrong, people like MM need to be out there to challenge the idiotical Republican party. However, this program was presented in a way that I feel people will listen and won't feel like he's lecturing them or going too far left. What was taken most from this Fresh Air program is his statement about the country not necessarily being politically split. The statement about how it's just more apparent now is true. Liberals are finally standing up and choosing to show opposition rather than sitting by, shrugging our shoulders to the Republican party and conservative agendas alike as if to say "Eh, whatever, we know we are right!". Liberals are speaking up, not taking it any longer. Most of all, I hope these hidden liberals get out and vote to show just how mad we are and do something about what's going on in the world. I really really hope Michael Moore is right when he says there is no way, no how there is going to be another 4 years of Monkey Bush.

The wrap up tonight is to take a quick hot shower and hop into bed. One thing which is difficult to get used to now that I have been dating Miss Wonderful Becky is sleeping alone. With her teacher schedule, it's lucky if we get to spend one night during the week together. I am quite spoiled on the weekends however. No one is there to warm the bed up. No one to snuggle up with and spoon. No one's chest to drool on. OK, maybe that part isn't so great for her but the thing is, she doesn't seem to mind! I didn't really like to share my bed before. Now I can't settle down to sleep easily without her here. Hm. I must like this gal or something...anyway....winter is on it's way. The days are getting shorter and shorter and it's darn cold in the morning. We had our first sets of gusty rain storms over the weekend. Indian summer is over. Get ready to hibernate. I bought a new pillow. I'm ready, are you?

Goats?

While cleaning up after a yummy breakfast of fried plantains, scrambled eggs with spinach, mushrooms, onions, and cheese, bagels with cream cheese and salmon, and iced coffee, (Miss Becky and I like to eat, it's part of the reason we get along so very well!) I was walking over towards the windows facing Twin Peaks and lo and behold the strangest thing appeared. There are at least 50 goats living next to the water treatment plant in front of my house. A special fence has been constructed to keep them contained. (Good luck with that...If you know anything about goats you will completely understand what I am talking about!) They were not there yesterday, I swear! Why in the world are there goats living in Bernal Heights? I mean come on, it's understandable that we are not in the hippest neighborhood in all of the city but for pete's sake, GOATS?!?! This needs to be investigated further to find out how/why this happened. It is a well known fact that I hate goats. This all stemmed from living with them in The Gambia, West Africa. Goats were the bane of my existence as an environmental education/forestry volunteer. What is the largest environmental hazard in The Gambia you may ask....Why goats of course. They eat anything and everything, especially gardening and forestry projects of a new volunteer. I hate goats and now living space is being shared with them again. It's suspected that this is the goat's final revenge on me, as if to say "You never should have had our brother made into a bag, we will show you!". The goats have won. Bastards. Frickin' goats.

As for the rest of the weekend, it has been mellow and slow going. Friday night's reading by Augsten Burroughs was fantastic. He was a bit different than I had pictured from reading his books but merely in appearance. He certainly was dressed down, an appealing outfit for the hipster gay crowd in San Francisco. The readings he chose to perform and the question and answer period afterwards was amazing. He most certainly had one of the strangest childhoods ever heard and he did a phenomenal job putting pen to paper to describe the madness known to him as life. There were several questions surrounding his sobriety and writing. Basically, had sobriety not happened, neither would have the books. Apparently once the drinking/drug use had gotten to problematic/addictive stages, the writing had completely stopped and this is how he chose to deal with the insanity in his life as a child, his coping mechanism. I'm really glad he is sober and look forward to the chance to see him again. Will begin reading his new book which was purchased that night, as soon as I'm done with TIpping the Velvet. Review to follow.

The rest of the weekend was spent with Miss B and taking time out here and there to see random sets of friends. Had brunch with a PC pal, Sonia. We talked politics, the frightening facts which surround the possibility of Monkey Bush remaining President. Makes me anxious to even think about it. Saturday night we made dinner (a few Moosewood specials, falafel bugers and Thai coconut soup! As well as Forbidden Rice pudding) and watched The Triplets of Belleville. This was the second time for me, first for Becky and it was excellent! A must see! Caught so many things the second time which weren't the first go around. Now I am off and running to get myself a latte and head to the east bay to go help the lesbians garden. Miss Becky already motored to go get her classroom ready to teach the children of the world Monday morning. Oh those teachers, how exhaustive it is for them. Will have dinner with her tonight! Off I go to investigate goat matters and garden until I drop.

Yogurt

Never in a million years did taking yoga seem to be something I would ever want to do. This activity seemed far too granola and whoowhoo--the land of shambala and chanting. Last February I met a fantastic individual from NYC whom convinced me otherwise. Granted, she didn't have to try all that hard because for some reason in my mid-30's the thought of obtaining good exercise in something other than a gym became very appealing. Also, last year at this time I had to cease running due to a nasty bone spur which has developed on the bottom of my left heel. The doctor gave me orthodics (which I picked up on my 35th birthday, talk about being made to feel old!) and said I had to find physical activity which was not so high impact. Yoga seemed to be the ultimate choice. I took a Yoga 101 course and from there a solid base was built that I did in fact want to pursue it as at least a once per week event. I tried different types of classes--hatha flow, Iyengar, Restorative, and Anusara. Some I liked, others just didn't seem to fit the bill. For some reason I continued to go to the Anusara class which is odd because it was the one I found to be the strangest. The first class we had to close our eyes and dance in place on our mats. The instructor had us chant, sing Amazing Grace, and tell strangers one thing in our daily lives that we would do to relax and slow down. I remember telling Miss Colorado about this and cracking up because it just didn't sound like something I would ever want to do. Her first question was "Do you think you will go back?" to which I answered "ABSOLUTELY!". Almost every Thursday night from 6-7:30 I can be found in this class doing all the things I termed to be weird. Perhaps it was thought to be strange because it was so different from anything I ever knew. Maybe I pay $10 per week to belong to a illusive cult. Whatever it is, I truly believe this class keeps me from losing my marbles and wanting to slap people on a daily basis. Yoga rocks my world. One thing which is hard to get over for someone who really does think farts are always funny is the amount of gas which slips out in every class. The yoga fart chorus has some very interesting melodies indeed!

Last night it was a whole new experience however as I should not have gone after the bloodletting session. I had to stop here and there because a couple of times I got light headed and thought I was going to pass out. The instructor was informed beforehand in the event this should happen. I had visions of an aerobics class from college. My roommates and I were kicking along getting that heartbeat up and BAM, for no apparent reason I twisted my ankle and had to be carried off the floor. This of course happened 2 minutes after the roommates and I made fun of another girl whom had to be carried off. What comes around goes around. Yet more proof that I can't laugh at farts in yoga. The next thing ya know....bhfruurrrt! (that is supposed to be a fart)

In the political corner, there was a frightening map on the front of the SF Chronicle today. It showed all the states which were captured by Monkey Bush, captured by the Political Skeletor, and the yet to be decided. Wisconsin is one of these states which is to be decided which is rather shocking. Last election Gore carried it, but rather slimly. Other than the Reagan years, it has always been democratic. (And who wasn't voting Republican then?) What is wrong with the Cheeseheads? How is it this can even be remotely close? Come on home people, step up and save America from 4 more years of Bushranny. Ugh. Several other states in the Midwestern belt will in fact decide the election. I am nervous as all get out to see what happens. Perhaps I need more yoga.... The SF Chronicle did also report the other day that if people voted the day after the last debate, Kerry would have won. But then again, consider the source. The Chronicle is the chronicle afterall and in San Francisco for pete's sake. It did make me breathe a little easier but only for a bit. Another thing the Chronicle reported was that most countries view Americans as ok but America is not. The polls taken in these very same countries stated that the problem is Monkey Bush and if they were to vote for either one, Political Skeletor would win in a landslide. How is it that far away nations can see this so clearly but the people whom make up this country can't seem to posses the same sort of deductive reasoning? I don't get it. Monkey Bush also met with the press yesterday while aboard airforce1, something he never does. (I think it's because they are going to ask him questions he can't possibly answer due to his inability to think on his own and remain the puppet he is but that's my theory.) Some feel that for Political Skeletor this is good news as it means he is nervous and may finally be realizing that the throne may not be his for another 4 years. During this press meeting he talked about how confident he is that the prize is his to be had and that nothing can stop him now. I sure hope something can. 19 days and counting!

Excitement for tonight: Going to see an amazing author Augsten Burroughs, the author of DRY and Running with Scissors. His new book came out and am going with Miss B to A Clean Well Lighted Place for Books. After that, home to watch the debate from Wednesday night on the couch with my lovely lady. YAY!

Bloodletting

I gave blood today for the first time in my entire life. What a strange experience that was. When I got out of Peace Corps I was told that I could not give my blood to anyone for 5 years due to the region of Africa I lived in. It was a haven for HIV, (although lord knows I did not sleep with anyone so the risk level was at an all time low) malaria, hepatitis A, B, and C, and pretty much anything else you can think of floating around in The Gambia. I left PC in 1995 so technically I could have started giving blood in 2000. Whoopsy. There is a blood drive through work so I looked at my schedule and had an open spot on Thursday morning to give up a pint of the fluid which keeps me alive. The man who reviewed my paperwork was very difficult to understand and with my inept hearing, made it a rather painful experience to get admitted. After a half hour of attempting to understand one another, the whole Africa experience was difficult for him to grasp and wanted to call The Gambia Thmamitcha so we were sort of stuck there until he busted out an atlas. Once it was established that Thmamitcha was no longer a risk regarding my blood because it had been so long ago, we were onto a whole new set of questions. He asked several times in several different ways if I recently paid anyone to have sex with me or if I had sex with a man who has had sex with another man. Understandable that in this day and age that these questions need to be asked but it was, to say the least, awkward. What if I had sex with some tranny boy hooker while in Thailand last year? How in the hell would I have answered that question? Bottom line is it just felt strange no matter how necessary it was. Eventually all the questions were done and I was cleared to give blood. There were these huge blue chairs that I contemplated stealing as they would be perfect for sitting around in Dolores Park on a lazy Sunday afternoon. After further investigation I thought it wise not to steal them seeing as they are a bit on the bulky side and wouldn't fit so well in the trunk of my Lesbaru. It was time for the needle insertion by Nurse Betty whom I wasn't quite sure if I should trust or not. She looked like last night had been spent closing down a bar in Concord and that she really did not want to be bothered with taking my blood. In went the needle and out came my blood. I do not have a strong stomach. I thought I was going to be fine with this. Apparently I got white as a ghost and looked as though I was going to pass out. Nurse Betty brought me water and sat with me for a bit to make sure I didn't hurl. There I sat for the next 20 minutes while my blood was collected into a little 1 pint bag. Now I feel all light headed and funny. Maybe it's because I am funny looking but it's unclear at this time how that would be related to my bloodletting. After all is said and done I will find out what blood type I have and I did get to drink some juice and have a powerbar. Not sure if I will do this again.

Didn't have a chance to watch the debates. That is what Miss Becky and I will do for F-U-N on Friday night. Aren't we a crazy couple? The spin thus far is that both candidates were rather well behaved and there wasn't anything earth shattering that we haven't heard before from Monkey Bush and the Political Skeletor. One bit read was that Mrs. Cheney was pissed off at Political Skeletor for making statements about her lesbian daughter. Why does this bother her so much? What he said was a perfectly clear fact that everyone knows, the Crusty Old Whitey and Mrs. Cheney have a lesbo daughter. Big shock. Evidently this makes Political Skeletor a bad bad man according to a woman whom is afraid to acknowledge that her daughter likes other daughters. Whatever.

Dinner at Chow was good last night with the Wednesday night crew. Am sad to see my mentor of 6 months move onward but hey, she and her special lady will have a great time. What a special special lady she is! Cheers to moves and cheers to the Wednesday night crew. Kim, you will be greatly missed!

Complete Opposites

Last night PBS ran a special called The Choice 2004. This program provided perhaps the least bias history of both candidates in the running for President. How is it that something like this is not featured on any of the major networks. Oh, that's right, PBS has smart television. I learned a whole lot about both Kerry and Monkey Bush and it was presented in a way as if to say "Here they are. YOU choose.", the way ideally the decision about whom will be the next President should be made. If you have the chance, please watch this program. It's very good.

Never in my very short history of being a human being have I ever seen two candidates so completely opposite. Everything Monkey Bush supports, Kerry opposes and vice versa. Everything. Tonight's debate on domestic policy will be about things like healthcare, abortion, stem cell research, gay marriage, the death penalty, and taxes. In the past, 9 times out of 10, the democratic candidate has a more publicly friendly policy. One thing Monkey Bush may have in his favor however are the conservative voters whom didn't turn up in 2000 but will now to back his extreme right wing policies. Looking back at history there has not been a President this conservative. Living in the bubble of San Francisco it's easy to forget that there are people out there who think gays shouldn't be able to get married, abortion is killing, and the death penalty is the best choice and deterrent to crime. Frightening but true. Kerry needs to come out swinging and explain his policies clearly and coherently for the average Joe/Jane to understand. If he does not, it could be the biggest mistake of his political career. The guy can talk even himself into circles. Let's hope this doesn't happen tonight. These two candidates are like magnets repelling one another. It doesn't get any more interesting than this folks.

Opposites aren't to be seen as bad either. It's always educable to look at both sides with an open view. There is the whole theory about opposites attracting. Sometimes it works, other times not. My special lady and I are opposite enough that we don't clash. We even one another out very well in ways I never thought possible. For instance, she has actually gotten me to go to sleep at night without ensuring all my clothing has been neatly folded and put away. This is a huge change for me! Miss B and I are also rather opposite in our taste of music. But we do what we can to work out a compromise and also get well versed in tunage neither of us had really ever thought to listen to. However, we are not opposite politically. Looking at the two of us, I don't know how in the world either one could ever be Republican and never will be. I guess we are simply put--opposite enough in a way that works for us. (That is an appropriate use of the word us, I checked in the Lesbian dating rulebook.)

On a lighter note, the feeling of doom and gloom has left me. I got out on my bike last night and did some peddling around. What a beautiful warm night! Didn't need a jacket or anything. Nothing like a good night's sleep to help with the blues. There was no nuclear meltdown in my body either. All this one day at a time crap is starting to pay off. As much as I would love to say it's b.s., it's true and it works. Go figure. The Wednesday night crew is meeting at Chow to say farewell to a friend leaving for NYC. I will miss her and am proud of this major geographic she and her partner are making. Look out NYC!

I've got my VCR set to capture the debate. No, I haven't been sucked into the world of TIVO as that would require me to purchase cable television, something I will not do. I like my 5 free stations, thank you very much. (This explains why I was watching PBS last night!) Go Kerry Go!

Pevil Grumpy Pants

The last couple of weeks when I sleep, I sweat profusely. I cannot figure out why. It's as if I am having some sort of global warming going on in my body which cannot be described. I have recently started eating meat again here and there but even when being pseudo-vegetarian, fish was still consumed along with an occasional bacon breakdown. My stomach has been all jacked up too. Recently a breakfast of Eggs Benedict made my insides react in upheaval. Upheaval for Pevil. It's not pretty. Not sure if medical attention needs to be sought. Keep hoping it will pass. However waking up all night long in a pool of sweat is not ideal either. Thoughts of menopause keep running through my head. For the love of pete, could it really be the change as my mom would call it, already? It can't be. I am 35 years old. I will continue to hope it is a change in diet and perhaps some rather stressful times at work. Maybe it's time for the hormonal patch.

Not much sleep under my belt has created a grumpy self. I have really nothing to be grumpy about per say. Hm...let's see what should be making me happy: I had leftover kuchen for breakfast, got to spend the night with my wonderful girlfriend who completely rocks, my body appears to be functioning just fine other than the lack of ability to cool down when sleeping, it's a sunny day. All these things are very very good. Instead there is a feeling of impending doom and dread with every step I take. Pevil Grumpy Pants. It wouldn't be a very good children's program. Picture a mid-30's lesbian walking around with a scowl on her face ready to punch someone for no good reason. I wouldn't live under the ocean or anything fun like that. Probably under the freeway. You know the one, right on Chavez where 101 and 280 meet. Perhaps my mode of transportation would be a grocery cart stolen from Trader Joe's. I would haggle the hagglers. "Outta my way, I'm Pevil Grumpy Pants! Arrrrggghhhh!". My superpower would be to confuse straight men in their tracks. Is it a man, woman, or Pevil Grumpy Pants? Ok, maybe it isn't that bad but it is making me feel better to think about what it would look like. I highly suspect I will not be hearing from Nickelodeon to get Pevil Grumpy Pants on the airways.

With any luck this feeling of impending doom will leave me soon. What are my plans to alleviate this? 1) Ride my bike to a meeting. 2) Avoid chocolate/lots of sweets. 3) Get a good night's sleep. 4) Tell Miss B how much I love her. 5) Leave work early--it is a beautiful day! It's time to get out of my own frightening head and see what else is going on in the world.

P.S. Don't forget to watch the final debate between Kerry and Monkey Bush @6pm Wednesday, October 13th.

Superman Died Today

I am I am I am Superman. I can do anything. Christopher Reeve died Sunday 10/10. He was a young 52. Listened to an interview that NPR did with him on my way home from acupuncture today. Superman talked a lot about how rather than looking at his life "before the accident, after the accident" that he took it more on as a continuum. His ability to look inward and understand that each day is to be viewed just as precious as the next is what he learned most from his accident. I believe he called it "self actualization", something most people never learn, want, nor take the time to do as they are afraid of what they might find. Christopher Reeve emphasized that we can learn the most from looking within to see what we really are and do with it what we want for the betterment of society. Never on earth did I think that I could really learn much from Superman. How wrong I am.

Perhaps Monkey Bush sould listen to Superman and take a few moments to take his eye off the prize and focus on self actualization. Shouldn't take being thrown from a horse and losing all your motor function to get one to do it.

Tumultuous Times

It appears there is a whole lot of swirling around of the world going on in many many forms. Relationships thought to be solid and on the right path taking odd turns, people trying to find their way as they are newly found single, the Friday night fight of Kerry vs. Bush in the last round of debates, war, war, and more war, and finally, folks embarking upon new careers which seemingly engulf them not intentionally however overwhemlingly so. I am not directly involved with any of the above but have been on the outskirts of these various events in one way or another. It feels somewhat like standing on the edge of a cliff near the ocean seeing the depths below, churning, crashing, and stirring as unsettled waters do. There is a level of intensity to these tumultuous times which is far more apparent. Could be the change of season. Could be the extra latte intake today. Could be the sprinkling of grey hair found whilst looking in the mirror this evening while getting ready for bed. Perhaps it has something to do with those dang steps. For whatever reason, there is something in the air.

Did you happen to see Monkey Bush on Friday night? He was more aggressive and sputtering than the debate previously. At one point in the evening he put the strongarm on the moderator and simply ignored the rules to overtake and refute a point Kerry made about going to war alone and isolating ourselves from the rest of the world. Monkey Bush, in his obtrusive stance and heated tone blew up at Mr. Kerry, the moderator Charles Gibson, and everyone watching. The audience was taken aback appeared shell shocked with his reaction, as did many parts of the world. However, I fear in other parts it was seen as Monkey Bush being a "strong leader, smart debater, and polished speaker by his ability to take over the situation". What this aggression showed me is his inability to be diplomatic in any sort of situation. Imagine him interacting with other world leaders whom don't agree with his view of the planet. "What's that you say there Frenchie? Why don't you go eat some more of your freedom fries and shut the hell up! I'm going to war with or without you!". My friend A has a good idea. She's thinking Monkey Bush will win so therefore if he does, she won't be so disappointed. If Mr. Kerry wins, she gets to be that much more excited. Please please please let Miss A be really really excited on election night results time! I'm banking on it. If people have any sort of brains at all, there will be no Monkey Bush in 2004 or beyond.

What is good about all of this is that people are talking. They are talking about voting, the issues, and with any luck at all, this will be the largest voter turn out EVER. If we learned anything last time, it better darn be. Please vote and look beyond the Monkey Bush. Unless of course you are enjoying this monkey business that is now in front of the world.

On a lighter note, my girlfriend made the best dang kuchen today for breakfast. It's basically german coffee cake. Holy moley, it's dang good. Picture chocolate, sugar, walnuts, all mixed together baked up in a yummy cake with powdered sugar on top. There ya have kuchen. She's just the best dang thing going. And not just for her baking abilities either. Miss B is, to sum it up in two words--absolutely lovely. I don't think there is any possibility of getting any luckier than with this girl. More posts about Miss B to follow.

Goodnight and god bless america. (If you don't understand the sarcasm there, ask me to explain sometime and I most certainly will.) I'm just following the lead of the Monkey Bush. Monkey see, monkey do.

Just do your job!

I'm a supervisor. I have 5 people whom work directly for me. 4 of these 5 people do what I ask them on a daily basis and 9 times out of 10, go far beyond my expectations. They rock. They are hard working folk who understand what it means to do their job. On the other hand, I have another employee who is essentially a pain in my ass. I have to hold his hand through everything. Can't rely on him to do what is asked, constantly have to watch over his shoulder or he simply won't get things done. How is it that people like this exist? How can you not get your work done? There are simple things which can be done to alleviate the problem. 1) ask questions! If one takes the time to say "You know what, I don't get it. I need some help here. I cannot do what you have asked because I don't understand..." it alleviates part of this zig-zagging after one another. By asking it also clues me in to the fact that there is a problem. As it is now I have to dig for this information. Drives me crazy. 2) updates on progress are helpful. Why is it I have to track this employee down to get answers? Why not be more forthcoming and tell me what the heck is going on! I feel like a cop sometimes, working the biotech beat of planning and scheduling. So now I have had to go down the PIP (performance improvement plan) route which simply stinks. I picture this young British boy named Pip saying "Hello, my name is PIP and I'm here to help!". He has blonde hair, blue eyes, and a little yellow hat. PIP is in the house. I suppose this is what I am being paid to do and should just shut up however people that don't do their job annoy me.

On a political note, some polls are claiming Cheney won the debate on Tuesday, others report it was a tie. No one is leaning in the favor of the Slick Hot Dem. The spin being put on this one is that it's more important than the presidential debates. Not so sure about that. What is the Vice President really? Think about the Senior Bush administration. What were they trying to pull off with someone like Dan qualude? (Dudes on ludes should not drive...I'll give you a quarter if you can tell me where that came from!) Did they ever think that the second in charge really should be the second in charge? Or perhaps it's one of the most overlooked positions in the job market today. Junior Bush is clearly a puppet for Old Crusty Whitey to boss around. More important than the presidential debates, I don't think so.

I need to go eat something chocolate.

Was that a do-over?

First and foremost, while I am posting tonight, for the first time with no firewall in place I am getting to listen to my friend Ted's online radio station. It's good stuff! If you would like to do the same, please go to this link and check it out for yourself. You won't be disappointed.

http://www.live365.com/stations/leibowt?play

So the old white guy and young slick hot dem faced off tonight. It was a bit of the same rhetoric we were fed on Thursday night last week. Cheney proved to be the coot I thought he was. He used a lot of the same lines Dubahya was scripted to utilize. How many times do they need to repeat "Wrong war, wrong time, wrong place". It's almost as if they have 4 or 5 tag lines that they insist on pummeling into our brains. Repetition is not a form of argument. (An ex-girlfriend taught me that...long story but she was right.) Perhaps the Republicans could learn something from my past relationships. Old Whitey insisted that they have not declared there is a direction connection to Saddam and the terrorists. However, in days past, he has stated just the opposite. It's frustrating. Pick one theory and stick with it. His candor reminded me of Jabba the Hut from Star Wars. Or perhaps Slimer from Ghostbusters. Either way, I am convinced that if, and only if, there is another 4 years of Republican dictatorship, it will be more of the same. A bunch of Republican fiscal failures and further decline of our global relationships with anyone in the world, period. Here's a little I for interesting: he did not speak to the misuse of the constitutional amendment against gay marriage. However he did acknowledge Mr. Edwards "kind words about his family and daughter" and did not broach the topic any further. Nope, he did not say GAY. Rather cowardly but what can you expect. Am sure it's what he was briefed to do. "If they try to make you say gay you run and hide just like you have been doing the last four years like the yellow bellied sap sucker that you are!". At least he is consistent.

As for Mr. Edwards, he is one good looking fella. And he's got that southern drawl that causes one to think "Do I hear Bill Clinton? Could that possibly be him?". We should be so lucky. At least when he was president the headlines were full of sex scandals and internal issues at home. Now all we see is Iraq, Iraq, Iraq and all the death, destruction, and lies which come along with it. Mr. Edwards did a good job of staying consistent with Kerry's message from Thursday. He didn't add anything new however which was rather disappointing. This debate certainly was full of more personal stabs as opposed to discussion of the facts. Edwards also at times debated himself into a corner and simply didn't answer the questions presented to him. Old Crusty Whitey honed in on that ASAP and pointed it out each time by saying "What was the question again?". Good old Dick. Thanks for pointing out the obvious. Undoubtedly, I support Mr. Edwards and thought he did relatively well holding up to an old cooter like Dick with years upon years of political experience. He will have to spruce up a bit on his focus abilities however if he wants to remain a contender.

For those of you who are uncertain as to how to vote this year, I of course am going to encourage you to vote Democratic. (as if you haven't figured that out already) If only for the fact that a Republican vote will do two things: 1) never allow me to get married 2) send one of my favorite cousins, Luc, to Iraq.

Point #1--
I never really thought I would want to get married. Didn't think that there was a possibility of really meeting "the one" that I would want to take the leap with. And even if I hadn't met that girl, (which I have and she is fantastic and her name is Becky and I love her but that is for some other posting) it's about equal rights for all human beings. Love knows no boundaries and even if you don't understand what the hell being a homosexual is all about and you can't possibly wrap your brain around it, who cares. I think you can understand that if you love someone and want to share your life with them, why shouldn't you get the same treatment as straight people? It's not rocket science. Neither is the fact that voting Republican will take these basic human rights from me. Do you really want that to happen? I don't think so.

Point #2--
Luc is in his second year of the Army Reserves. He did his basic training this summer after attending his first year at UW-Oshkosh. I would hate to see him shipped off to a worthless war over oil. Do you really want him to end up in Iraq? Vote Republican and you might as well buy him the airline ticket yourself. The occupation will not end if the Bush cronies continue down the same path with no plan for peace or exit. I love Luc way too much to let this happen.

Anyway, enough of this political hoo-ha. I'm tucked into bed with my cat Sammy curled up at my side. He has been much more into hanging out with me at night now that it's cold. Evidently I am a great little heater. The rain hasn't started falling yet but winter is most certainly on it's way. You can smell it in the air. With any luck, there will be winds of political change to follow.

BAD SANTA report = 3 of 5 stars. The Cohen brothers create yet another very strange yet silly film like no other. A renter and totally worth it. A must rent if you like midgets.

Old Crusty Whitey vs. Young Hot Dem

Tonight's the night! The face off between the old pace maker Cheney and Edwards. Could they be more extreme? All the way from how they look, to their policy, to what they like to do for exercise, they are as black and white as an oreo.

Let's take a look at Mr. Cheney, shall we? He's a grumpy old cuss who has been hidden from time to time when all this "terrorism" has been going on. Keeping him in secret locations because well, quite frankly, he is old and frightening. Personally, I think he was being hidden from the public because he's just so ugly and frumpy. It didn't have anything to do with keeping him safe. It was to keep the American public safe from having to look at his whitey mck white white mug. Mr. Cheney is not eloquent. He is not smooth. In fact, I'm not sure what he is because again, they have kept him hidden for the past 4 years. Why? His policy will be clear tonight, as Mr. Bush stated from last Thursday, more of the same. No need to change anything. According to Mr. Cheney, it's all good. No harm done. Just money in his pocket from all the military spending and support of his companies and investments. What does he like to do for exercise? I think that is obvious....at best, probably walk from his Lazyboy chair to the kitchen for doughnuts. Or maybe he puts puzzles together. I'm not sure.

As for Mr. Edwards, not much is known about him either. I did see him in a debate on the FOX network long ago when he was still in the running for the Presidential race. The debate focused more on what Mr. Edwards thought about Mr. Kerry than it did regarding his policy. He's a pretty boy and it's what Kerry needs because again, to be quite frank, Kerry looks like Frankenstein. He needs a hot dem to work it for him. He's almost as mysterious and the crusty old white guy discussed previously. Let's hope he comes out swinging and pulls the plug on Cheney's pacemaker once and for all. Edwards policy....that remains to be seen but I think I like it better than the other guy's. As for what he likes to do for exercise, he likes to run long distances. He was on the cover of Runner's World last week. That is a good sign. Shows he does more than mill back and forth between CNN and ESPN via the remote.

I'm watching tonight at 6pm and will hopefully have the answers to all the above and then some.

As for BAD SANTA, it's pretty dang funny and demented from what I have watched thus far. Sleep was calling so I got to the part where I saw Santa diddling the hot chick in the hot tub. I can give it 3 stars of 5 thus far.

Welcome to the 2000's

Hellooooo there--

It's time to join the 2000's. Here I am with blog in hand, er something, writing away whilst sitting at my kitchen table. It has taken me a while to join the 2000's actually. First and foremost, I recently purchased a DVD player. I am pretty sure I am the last person on earth to do so. A year ago I got a celluar phone. Again, I was the only person left without one. When payphones became impossible to find as well as a call costing 50 cents and pagers just seemed stupid, I fell to the cellbone. Mind you, I haven't taken to calling people from movies or in the grocery store however I did use it just last week to see where in the hell my girlfriend was as we got seperated in the clothing store. I think they are adult walkie talkies. Everyone has one and it just seems so odd to exist without one. Which frightens me to think about because I HATED them. Hate with a capital H. Scoffed at the very sight of someone picking one up at any given moment. In line for a latte and announcing to the world "Hey man, I got SO drunk last night!" or "Oh jesus I have gas from those burritos". Where does the personal conversation end? Now it's on sidewalks everywhere. My mom refuses to call me on it. I think she may very well be afraid of it. But they again, most people are of things they don't know. It's interesting to be in WI with my phone because reception there is non-existent unless of course I am in Madison or Milwaukee. I saw a 10 year old with a cell phone AND an ipod. For the love of christ...is nothing sacred?

Anyway, I'm off to watch BAD SANTA because my friend A told me it was hilarious. The jury is still out on that one. Will cast my vote tomorrow.