Monday Grind

After a slow, but drug-filled weekend, it's back to work today. I'm bored as I sit here. I've got stuff to do, places to go, people to cruise, all away from here, and all within driving distance of say, L.A.? I swear, I was at Safeway yesterday, just buying some bread, and this really cute guy steps up behind me in line. He had dreamy blue eyes, and a pretty smile. I pay and leave. He pays and leaves. And we run into each other in the parking lot. He's eyeing my car (I promise the new car stories will stop soon) and then he eyes me in the driver's seat and he smiles again. Could there be a correlation between the number of offers one receives and the type or status of the car that person drives? If so, why the fucking fuck did I wait so long to get a new car???

I drove it all over the place and back this weekend. It's truly a joy. Today, I dropped it off for some final prep work before it's all mine, and they gave me a rental for the day. I thought that they would at least give me a VW or something similar. Nope. They gave me a Chevy Metro. How ghetto. My old Golf was faster and at least better looking than that thing. R had to take his Range Rover in for service, and then he came with me to the VW place. He could have had a Discovery for the day, but instead, we were both anticipating driving away in a Beetle. But noooooo. Dash our hopes to the door, and make me drive 45 m.p.h. on 101 because we were so afraid that it would otherwise melt down or something. Whatever. It's only for a day. And damn, three days of leather seats really does something to me! I'm so ashamed. Whatever.

Oh right, pictures

I said I was going to post pictures for anyone who was curious. I'm supposed to be able to somehow, so let me give it a try.

Who knew?

Journals vs. Weblogs

Bush giggles, squeals, plays with yo-yo.

An Air Force colonel has been suspended for writing a letter in which he called President Bush "a joke" and accused him of allowing the Sept. 11 attacks to happen because "his presidency was going nowhere." The letter from Lt. Col. Steve Butler was published May 26 in The (Monterey County) Herald. "He did nothing to warn the American people because he needed this war on terrorism," Butler wrote. "His daddy had Saddam and he needed Osama. His presidency was going nowhere. ... This guy is a joke." Butler has been suspended due to his deadly accuracy and his absolute correctness in the matter, but his superiors were apparently slightly disappointed that he failed to point out that Bush is merely a bumbling little puppet in Overlord Cheney's little war-drunk drama and while he is certainly a virulent danger to the progress of the human soul, Cheney is the true Dark Lord who actually sees all and controls all and strokes the hairless cat sitting in his lap very slowly and creepily while sucking pure ether from a tank and making a completely castrated Powell crawl around on all fours and bark like a dog.

Courtesy of Mark Morford

It's about damn time!!

Not quite Friday yet...

Not much going on lately. Really. Work is kinda dull, although my outlook has improved quite a bit. Since our CEO bit the big one and quit on us, I have seen the Founders much more relaxed and friendly. It seems that a huge weight has been removed from their shoulders. I know that I'm looking forward to regular paychecks and consideration. But that's it.

We're supposed to visit one of Phyllis' friends in Santa Barbara next weekend. I haven't been down there in a long time, and never for pleasure, so that will be fun. In fact, Angel, the friend, might even get a position at the same hospital as Phyllis, which means more mayhem in San Francisco. But they're great fun together.

My car donation has not come through yet. I couldn't justify taking money from a stranger for the old Golf, so I decided to donate it away. At least Uncle Sam will give me money for it, and I have no qualms about taking money from dear old Uncle Sam. Creep. Anyway, they are either too busy to keep up with it all, or simply don't want my old car. Whatever. I haven't heard one way or the other, so I'll just sit and wait. The new car is still gorgeous, of course. Damn, I love that thing.

And then, like a bombshell, dear W reminded me that our taxes are due in like, two weeks!! So all the money, the two months of pay that I just received now goes back to Uncle Sam and our dear state of California, well not all of it, but it sure feels that way. Fuck me to tears already. Easy come, easy go. I can't wait until they put us on payroll so I don't have to deal with these things myself. It's so much easier to have some person in payroll/accounting deduct the tax before I see it. Now I feel like I'm giving away my kidney or something. Whatever. Death and taxes, right?

That's all. Just thought I'd add something here.

Un-fucking-believable that this man is our president.

"Do you have blacks, too?"

I'm embarrassed to be an American after this one.

Is It OK To Hate Bush?

Read me.

You bet your ass it is. This article is dead-on and too too funny.

Thursday Night

I had dinner in the city with H last night. I hadn't seen in him in about two weeks, which is unusual for us. It was weird meeting him in the city and walking all around the Mission looking for a restaurant that, as it turned out, had closed over a year ago. So we marched up to Market Street and found a nice little resto where we had nice food and nice conversation. I miss being in the city. I moved up four years ago, and three of those years have been spent in Oakland. I hate Oakland. I miss San Francisco. I miss the city smells. I miss the city sounds. I have to find a way to move back there. The real estate prices have not fallen that drastically, despite what everyone has said about them. After the "dot bomb," there was a mass exodus out of SF because of the hugely overrated prices, and over the last year, while apartment rents have fallen a great deal, I'm still looking at studios and one-bedrooms for over a thousand dollars a month. A studio, 580 square feet for $1100? Just because it's on Nob Hill? Darling, that is crap. I don't really want a roommate, either. That would just suck to high heaven. I wonder if I can wait until the prices come down even more?

He knocked the fuck out of him

I watched my first real boxing match last night. Phyllis needed to see Lennox Lewis knock the fuck out of Mike Tyson last night, so we ordered the Pay-Per-View and gathered around the big screen to watch it all happen. I have never been interested in watching two grown men punch each other out, considering that I see enough of it in every day life. And being a pacifist, it's not easy to watch...or so I thought. I was only there to humor them all and imbibe in the champers and Mary Jane, but after it all got started, I was amazed at how enthralled I became.

The sport of boxing really does reduce one to their most base levels, cheering for the strongest of the two to survive. And after eight rounds, that's exactly what happened. I am not a fan of Mike Tyson as a human being. His conduct leaves so much to be desired, so naturally my choice for the winner was Mr. Lewis. But at the back of my mind, I was wondering if the animal instincts that makes Mike Tyson a winner would also allow him to defeat Lennox Lewis. Nope. Mr. Lewis, as was later explained to me, was trained as an Olympic boxer much more so than Mr. Tyson was, and he uses that training more than Mr. Tyson does. That obviously gave him an advantage over the match. He was restrained and poised and possessed endurance and stamina. It was odd to watch this man, Mr. Tyson, who does nothing but spew out verbal threats and proclamations almost cower in front of Mr. Lewis. And in the end, Mr. Lewis knocked the fuck out of Mr. Tyson.

What was even more surprising to me was during the final conversation, after the match had been won. I was amazed to see Mike Tyson, this big, tough brute of a man reach over and wipe the blood that was trickling down Lennox Lewis' big, proud face. It was almost surreal to me. I just assumed that boxers hated each other, but it appeared last night that they had been friends in the past, and each had a great deal of respect for the other. It seems like it would be easier to hate someone in order to have to beat the living shit out of them for fun. But I guess that's just twisted ol' me.

And damn, you should have seen Phyllis hit the roof when her guy won.

This isn't to say that I've changed my mind about boxing, because it still is a little too violent for my tastes, but now I can certainly see the draw. Maybe it'll grow on me.

R.I.P.

Yesterday afternoon, when I returned home, I saw that my dear, old Golf had been taken to donation heaven. I knew they were coming yesterday, so I bid my final farewell as I left for work in the morning. I didn't cry like I thought I would (seriously, I thought I would), but I did feel a loss and a sense of an ending. Seven years is a long time. My car has always been important to me, as my tomes here have clearly illustrated. So now it's on to new adventures and new places to explore.

Yet another reason to shun Alabama

A woman enraged at her boyfriend attacked him with a utility knife and cut off nearly all of his buttocks, leaving him near death on a dark, rural road. The injuries were so severe investigators initially believed the victim was sexually tortured and dragged behind a car in a possible hate crime. Police believe the man's girlfriend acted alone. She was arrested and charged with attempted murder. Kimberly King, 26, of Aliceville was jailed without bail. "This ain't right," she told a TV news crew as she was arrested. King and her boyfriend had been at a bar in Mississippi late Saturday or early Sunday, and left separately after an argument. Police said she pulled up behind his vehicle on an isolated highway near Aliceville, and began stabbing him with a large knife. When he fell, "she got down on him and just started cutting," police said. "Ah, love. Sometimes it's grand, sometimes it's a total pain in the ass," he should've added, as everyone rolled their eyes and groaned. "Sorry. Love hurts? Is that better? Love means not being able to sit down for a month? Help me here. It's Friday."

Courtesy of Mark Morford

Santa Barbara

I spent the weekend with Reuben, Wayne, and Phyllis in Santa Barbara. Phyllis' friend and fellow traveller Angel is "on assignment" in Santa Barbara for a few more weeks, so we made a road trip down to see her before she returns to the East Coast. We also stopped along the way to visit Wayne's parents. It was a great little weekend getaway. I have never been to SB before, and it was beautiful. I've lived here for twelve years, as I've said here many many times, but I have barely seen anything outside of the Bay Area. So, as with our trip down to LA in April, this was cool for me because it was new. And the more I see coastal towns in California, the more I am beginning to think they all look the same. SB was really nice, and since it was graduation weekend, the eye candy was extraordinary, but it had the same feel as some of the other coastal towns I've been to, specifically Santa Cruz. SB felt like a bigger, wealthier Santa Cruz. But it was a great trip.

Writer's Block

I used to write a lot when I was younger. I did it out of boredom half the time, and as a way to escape reality the other half. Now, as I have grown up, I never write anymore, and that's a shame. My teachers always thought that I was good at it and that I had something to say. I was thinking about that this weekend, and I wonder if I could find my muse again. (Sorry, Doll, couldn't resist.) It used to be fun to express myself in words and to create images with language instead of paint or musical notes. In fact, I always assumed that I would end up being a writer or novelist. I knew that I couldn't work in corporate America, a fact that I still assert, but hardly ressemble. But that was when I thought I had ideas. That was when writing was the only way I could hide from growing up. I don't need to hide anymore, and I'm not bored often enough, either. Well, at work I am bored all the time...whatever. Just thought I'd share.

Went to Cache Creek Indian Casino and Bingo with Phyllis on Saturday. It was interesting for sure. Hundreds of Vegas-style casino slot machines. A few card tables. OK buffet...they had enormous cookies, though. Biggest cookies I've seen in a long time. Out in the sticks. Two hours from SF. Hot as fuck. And a rough crowd. Had to do it at least once. Didn't gamble. Probably won't go back. Vegas is for me. God, I love Las Vegas.

*Sigh*

And while I'm sitting at work, bored off my ass, not writing what I should be writing, I'm listening to Listen.com. Don't know why that's important, but it's cool.

Martha Stewart's Corporate Living

Martha Stewart's Corporate Living

Pride, etc.

I keep forgetting that this weekend is Pride in San Francisco. I was at the airport picking RJ up from his trip to NJ, and the place was packed at 10 p.m.! I didn't know what it was all about, and I certainly hope it wasn't all for the parade. Fear of that. I have only been to one parade, and that one was ten years ago. I sure do like it when they shut down the Castro the night before the parade for a block party to end all block parties, but I can't muster up the whatever it would take to stand out on Market Street with everyone else watching floats of scantily clad men drive by. I know, I remember it being a free-for-all, but I was 21, and that stuff happens.

It looks like another trip to LA. This time for my birthday! How exciting, I know. I can't wait. I'm going to drive down and spend a few days with Ken since he's going to be down there anyway. So, finally, I'll get to take him up on his offer, like four years later, hello. And maybe this time I'll get to see LA the way it was meant to be seen.

That's all. I have been warned that Fourth of July weekend will be another crash-and-burn weekend at Rancho Relaxo. Just be sure to stock plenty of vodka and orange juice, please. And potstickers. I love eating potstickers when I'm drunk. It can get kinda messy, if I'm not careful, but they're so good.

See my new phone? Isn't it just adorable? I think so.