Wednesday, August 13, 2008

BurningMan



Abby gave me all her "reject" beads and Molly's giving me handspun wool to hang them on. I'll bejewel myself and gift them to admirers. I officially have the best gifts ever! Molly's giving me beeswax too to make lipbalm! Women crafted awesome!

Tent-off on Friday!

Thursday, August 7, 2008

Friend-crush*


PS - I have a MAJOR friend crush. She knows Umphrey's and Disco Biscuits, we drive the same green CRV, her birthday is the day before mine, she likes camping and hiking and kayaking, and she's a professional baker (while I am a professional baked goods eater). This is big.

*Friend-crush; Experiencing a strong desire to become friends with a person you don't know very well. "Wow, that girl is so cool! I totally have a friend crush on her."

Felt like a lifetime

"tell me you don't really bring guys home from bars. Lie if necessary." My dad's so proud of his little girl...

In the past weeks 2 of my friends (in the Upper Valley) of similar age have broken up (separate relationships). Both with in the week have gone on at least 1 date with a new acquaintance. I have been here a flippin year with less luck. Not only do I feel this is totally unfair, I've taken drastic measures.

Clearly my aura's got some "unavailable" contaminants. I've rearranged the rings on my fingers (which is really uncomfortable and totally chaps my feminist hide as a waste of finger space sacrificed to the powers that be over a tradition I don't even subscribe to) and taken the next steps. Chris says I should wait until after BurningMan so I don't end up with a jealous boyfriend after a week of nudity in the desert.

Finally, my funeral song keeps coming up on Pandora. It's eerie

Wednesday, August 6, 2008

coffee, puppies and meth

Must read commentary on the 15 most sexist commercials.



"The next morning wifey serves it and daddy approves, sending her into such a paroxysm of delight she looks like a puppy who got into your meth drawer."

Monday, August 4, 2008

Gettin' Lucky


Some months ago mine was the only office left to be painted. With a move in deadline looming I informed my colleagues that since none of my dead-beat friends would help me, the goal for my bar hopping that night would be a painter. Low and behold, the next morning Andrew and I got to work.

This past week again it became necessary to find a man* willing to fight bats. I informed the WISE woman that the Salt Hill quest of the night would be to find such a man. Find him I did**. With frying pan in hand he smashed any sleeves that might have housed dark princes of the night, and (I believe) put out a certain bat-repellent vibe. I have nary heard nor seen one of the dastardly winged mammals since.

My boss tells me I have a peculiar definition of "getting lucky" on a Friday night. I think I sensed a tone of pity.

*The male specification not being due to any gender variance in bat-fighting ability, but merely because I like boys.

**We didn't actually see any bats that night, which leads to an interesting predicament. Let's call him Batman. Were I any other than the utmost principled and ethical of feminists, it may appear that this were all a clever ploy to use the age-old damsel in distress scenario to lure an innocent into my batcave. Were Batman to suspect that I had ulterior motives for that bat hunting sleepover (Which I do not!!I really do have bats!) and pair that with a past history of infiltrating Batman's friend-circles (we just have similar taste in people!) this could be incriminating. I would like to take this opportunity to assure all interested parties that this is all completely coincidental. Although I would be quite the seductive mastermind were it not...

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The only other note-worth mention of the weekend is that I went blueberry picking along with blind-friend date girl and Chris. This is only significant in that afterwards it was clearly necessary to make blueberry pancakes, and with those blueberry pancakes Chris and I ate an entire pound of bacon. No wonder this gym thing isn't working out...

Friday, August 1, 2008

Blueberry Muffin

Happy birthday Brit-Muffin!

Wednesday night brought another fleeing-the-bats-in-the-middle-of-the-night saga. That story line's getting a little played out.

In the midst of sleep deprivation I had a blind friend-date last night. It went well, despite my best efforts to appear crazy. We have plans for a second to go blueberry picking this weekend, then "we" are going to bake pies. By we, I mean I'll make cocktails, she'll make pie (she's a pro baker. That's her job).

August. I have mixed feelings. August brings Christina and BurningMan, but is followed by September. There's summer dresses I haven't even worn yet.

I rejoined the gym this week.This is significant.
*In the three months I was gym-less I've reverted to the worst shape since high school. mucho depressing. My horoscope says this about it:
Remember that the littlest details of your daily routine can make you feel better or worse over time. Don't waste energy worrying about a particular ailment. Just pick something that you can do every day, such as an upgrade to your diet or exercise program, to improve your total wellbeing.

Translation - stop worrying about death-by-rabies and get your fatass to the gym.

*I paid for a year. My commitmentphobe self is bound to the Upper Valley until August 2009. I was going to do 6 months, so as to have my lease and my membership expire simultaneously and make me free. But I committed. That's growth.