Sunday, March 07, 2004

I'm just lovin' how this election year is starting.

It's nice to see how compassionate Bush is towards his constituents. I mean he's airing an ad where he's capitalizing on the 9/11 tragedy. Relatives and survivors alike emphatically tell him that the ad is in extremely bad taste and they're horrified by it. What does the president who looks exactly like Curious George do? Tells them tough nuggies and continues to run it.

States are rebelling the Patriot Act. It's been proclaimed as anti-constitutional etc., and some states like Oregon are ignoring it. It's up for renewal.

Gay Marriage? Bush wants to add an amendment against it. He can't even control his daughters and he's going to tell the rest of the country how to live.

let us not forget the weapons of mass destruction. Where are they? In my closet.

Does anyone remember that the administration decided not to use the job growth figures because they were amazingly poor?

The race hasn't officially started and he's doing just dandy.

All I can say for him is to keep up the good work. No smear campaign needed, he's burying himself.


On the home front, my cat has been on a rampage. From the first night R. came over, he's been in a snit. Sinatra has stopped sleeping in my bed. No kitty cuddles anymore for moi.

For the past two weeks, he's been shitting in the tub (on and off) just to make me crazy.

The piece de resistance? Yesterday he went into one of my closets and out of all the shoes in there, decided to pee on my manaolos and my chanel flats. Left all the cheap shoes alone. He then wandered into the other closet and shat on one boot. Did I mention that they were my favorites?

He's been barred from entering my bedroom. I'm terrified that he'll pee on my down comforter.


It's a full moon and running around town with Katie last night proved to me that yes, the crazies do get worse when the moon is perfectly round. Went to Karma. It was so dark inside that I got vertigo--I couldn't figure up from down. The cocktail waitress was selling lollipops.

Tried d/b/a. Walk in and it's packed. Some chick has draped herself over two barstools, is posing with a wineglass in one hand. Was it any wonder that no one went near her.

Hit Lit. It's so packed that they now have stair nazis. One on the top and one on the bottom. The bottom nazi tells you when it's safe to walk up the stairs and the top nazi tells you to hold onto the railing. They're also limiting how many people can go into the basement.

Does this mean it's time to find another home?

Some loud chick was wandering around (in the back room) with a plastic bag that had a piece on her in some middle tier music mag. She's was tryin' to really work it. Every time she bent over, you could see her shiny spandex beige granny pants peeking waaay over her jeans.

Granny pants, when you really want to say no.

Friday, March 05, 2004

Shit, it's Friday, isn't it? I seem to have a problem with time. It sluices through my hands like water.

I'm the only person I know who never remembers birthdays, anniversaries or the correct day of the week.

Went out Saturday night to see Ivan play in a band. He's now hooked up with two of them. Boy is determined to hit the stage before he hits his dotage. Me, I'd just like to be able to sing on key.

Band is The Loosies, they played two songs as part of the Lou Reed Tribute at Freddy's Back Room in Brooklyn. Afterwards, we all piled into the Jimmy, headed back to Billyburg and proceeded to drink. We stopped in one bar where the bartender didn't know how to make any type of a drink. So I ended up with a greyhound that had four shots of vodka in it. Wobbled into another bar, where, be still my heart, we could smoke! I'll never reveal the name. Actually, I can't remember how we got there, the name or any other identifying detail.

I do remember sitting on Ivan's couch insisting that I had to go home or my cat would pee on the bed and asking repeatedly why the walls were spinning when I was sitting up. Fell asleep with boots off, socks on and woke up with my belt almost by my nose. Sleeping in tights sucks.

Very slowly made my way home. Spent the entire day on the couch. I couldn't move if I wanted to and actually watched masses of TV.

It's been so long since I've gone out--if it's really cold, I won't leave the home. I hate the cold and doubly hate dressing up like the pillsboury doughboy. Yeah, I am a wuss.

The hunt for the literary agent continues. Am thinking about investing in a very large butterfly net and stalking them in the streets.


Good night