Posts Tagged ‘paolo’

Neverending Quotable NSFW Drew and Chili cook-off, here I come!

November 7, 2009

All done with the ambrosia, hair flat-ironed, going to slap on some mascara and slide on down to C-town for that there ol’ chili cook-off. Wish me luck! In the meanwhile, here is some adorable but culinarily challenged Drew Barrymore to brighten your night.


“I don’t cook, I can’t cook, and it is really abominable to see me in the kitchen. I order in takeaway food or get my friends to cook because a lot of them are very good.” — Drew Barrymore

“My culinary skills are terrible. I can’t even make toast taste good. I do make scrambled eggs for myself sometimes but I wouldn’t even inflict that on anyone else.” — Drew Barrymore

“I can cook about two things. I can boil hot water for the only pasta I can make.” — Drew Barrymore

I’ll let you know how the cookoff goes. Have a great night!

Advice: Drew Barrymore NSFW again (what?! I know! crazy!)

November 6, 2009

Today some quickies from Drew on humility, being true to oneself, and having a good self-image.

“I definitely don’t think that I’m hot doo-doo. I don’t.”

“I used to look in the mirror and feel shame, I look in the mirror now and I absolutely love myself.”

“There’s something liberating about not pretending. Dare to embarrass yourself. Risk.”

Today, I am trying to put together something spectacular for the Chili Cookoff that Paolo and Miss D are hosting tomorrow. Everyone is going to be there, and they’ve all snatched up the available sides: Miss D is doing cornbread and I think apple pie; Jonohs is of course on cheesecake duty (“legendary”); the LBC is making one of her amazing dips so she has that and chips nailed down already; Corinnette is bringing beverages; Geo, Paolo, and the Gentleman have all opted to enter top secret chili recipes; Jan-Han grabbed pasta salad right out from under my nose for which I do not begrudge her (like I am going to tell my oldest friend’s recently cancer-surviving mom who I adore that pasta salad is my signature dish, and I dare you to suggest I ought); I feel like all that’s left is brats and fancy sauces and rolls, but that feels super-unoriginal. If you have ideas, please throw them my way!

Meanwhile, as I get kind of shady and nervous about large social gatherings, I’ll be keeping the lovely and talented DB’s advice in mind today and work on inner peace. Today, inner peace: tomorrow, a chili cookoff. See, when I write it out like that, my goals are not only miniscule but almost embarassingly easy to achieve. Hurray!

Advice: How to win friends and avoid being burnt at the stake

October 29, 2009

1993’s Hocus Pocus: pretty much the only thing in which I have ever seen Sarah Jessica Parker and actually found her to be attractive.

I have never seen Sex and the City. Not even one episode. As near as I can tell it doesn’t star her so much as her remains. Have some cheesecake, Skippy.

Anyway, back in 1993 she still had a little something going on in the upper decks, and she brought a kind of abandoned, childlike sylph-style ebullience to this role that was a surprisingly genuine and fresh take on such a stock role, and could have been played vampy and bimbo-tatstic in other hands.

Plus, you slap a blonde wig and some red lipstick on almost anybody and they are automatically going to be looking pretty good and I’m going to warm to them; I cite Bugs Bunny as evidence. I already liked him for that busted grill, so I was all about Lady Bugs.

I like Sarah Jessica Parker lookswise in this movie for all her blondeness, slightly immodest bosomness, and for-once-not-coated-in-makeup sharp-witch-chin-moledness. (I do like flaws!)

We tried to rent this last night down at Paolo and Miss D’s, but the ondemand was having none of it. Total folklore to pay for a movie that old and often-watched. Screw ABCFamily! We rented Monster House instead. In your face, Disney Corp.

Winifred Sanderson: Don’t get your knickers in a twist! We’re just three kindly old spinster ladies.
Mary Sanderson: Spending a quiet evening at home.
Sarah: Sucking the lives out of little children!

But I’ve been thinking about it since we considered renting it, and I drew some conclusions about the characters of the witches and what fears they represented; like what were their real crimes (I mean, other than being honest-to-god witches who were morally in bed with Satan).

It seemed to me that each witch had a central character trait around which the rest of her personality was constructed, and the actresses played those up in their performances. These traits were the unpardonable sins. The ones that got them burnt at the stake with no voice to defend them. So here’s a little list, from me to you. You’re welcome. Think nothing of it!

Things that’ll get your burnt at the stake in a rural Puritan village at the turn of the eighteenth century:

  • Being too smart. Very threatening. Don’t be calculating and gathering power to yourself when there are crops to bring in. People ain’t got time for your political and intellectual shit: they are trying to survive. You leave the power balance alone.
  • Being a bit of a “slow coach.” You make people uncomfortable, and Martin Luther advocated euthanizing you. You’re a danger to the entire community because you’re an unknown factor, and you’re lucky you’re even alive. Now go gnaw a chicken bone in the corner, inbred.
  • Being a bubbly, nymphomaniacal boy-stealer with nice boobs. That’s gonna get you burnt at the stake in any century, Cupcake.

    Good luck out there!

  • It happens: Tina Fey edition

    October 27, 2009

    Beer. It is a thing!

    “In a study, scientists report that drinking beer can be good for the liver. I’m sorry, did I say “scientists”? I meant “Irish people.””

    That’s a Hangover Sunday look if I ever saw one. Friendohs know of what I speak.

    Hangover Sunday (n.): usually the morning after Saturday night Band Practice and adult libations, when one shuffles about in the double digits of the a.m. with vacant-zombie-eyes and puffy faces until Paolo gets on the skillet and fries up some resurrection.

    Music Moment: “Neapolitan Dreams,” by Lisa Mitchell

    October 24, 2009

    Lisa Mitchell – Neapolitan Dreams

    You’ll go and I’ll be okay,
    I can dream the rest away
    It’s just a little touch of fate,
    it will be okay
    It sure takes its precious time,
    but it’s got rights and so have I


    I am filling this day up with friends and fun. About to hit up Where the Wild Things Are with kidlet and Special K. (edit: Geo is coming now, too.) Then we are going to a pumpkin patch with Paolo and Miss D, which is the thing I’ve been hiding from, because I have such strong memories of doing that with my husband. That is why I am absolutely going with my friends, and carving up the pumpkins afterward, too. At first I didn’t know about the pumpkin carving because I was afraid it would run late, but the heck with it; we can spend the night again if it gets dark and I don’t like the lay of the traffic and mood of the night. I need to be around people, specifically my favorite people.

    I turn my head up to the sky
    I focus one thought at a time
    I do not let the little thieves
    under my tightly buttoned sleeves

    Deepest of the dark nights
    here lies the highest of highs
    Neopolitan Dreams, stretching out to the sea

    Friends make it all better

    October 19, 2009

    Playboy: Isn’t there an old show-business rule about not acting with children or animals?
    Tina Fey: That’s right. They will upstage you because they’re adorable. The same can be said of Amy Poehler. I shouldn’t have acted with Poehler. She climbs everything and curls up in your lap, and she’s cuter than babies.
    Playboy: That’s a pretty bold statement.
    Tina Fey: Amy Poehler is cuter than a baby and a monkey combined.

    I did not much care for the movie Baby Mama; maybe my expectations of it were too high. Trouble is, my husband and I watched it on television a few days before we separated (come to think of it, it may have been only hours), so I can’t say anything for sure about my opinions of what I viewed during that time period. Except that Forgetting Sarah Marshall is NOT a good movie to watch when you’re waiting for the right moment to ask for a split — I am pretty sure that is a unilateral truth that we were merely unlucky enough to stumble upon the actual experience of but that everyone can agree is nonetheless for-sure-solid in terms of epiphanies, without having to personally go through it.

    In the past few weeks, I’ve started talking to some of my friends — specifically Miss D and Jonohs because they are tricksie and ask the tough questions in mild and genuinely curious and empathetic enough ways that I don’t get startled and run screaming down to Mexico to avoid admitting that I actually feel Ways about Things — more about the separation, more about our time together, and even have talked more to my husband, and I’d pushed aside all those things for so long that I guess I must have started to fool myself that everything was okay.

    It is not.

    The horrible is beginning to set in as an all new breed of horrible, and congruently the panic is a different and infinitely deeper kind of panic. And I am afraid, and sometimes lonely, though it is self-induced isolation because it’s more like a desperate last-ditch effort at avoidance than loneliness. I can’t talk to my family about it because they are involved, and also frankly very pushy and aggressive people, and I tend to approach a problem far more tentatively than they do. To them, you just snap your fingers and you should know what you think and what to do next. I’m not that way, I need time before I am able to come to any conclusions about things. My feelings freak me out and I spook easily. I need a peaceful solo drive in the country or else a boisterous day of booze and ball to work through my emotions. Thank god a) it’s Autumn and my car is running. b) that the World Series is coming up. c) for my friends and their literally ’round the clock support of me.

    I first wrote this looking back over my weekend and thinking of the time I spent with Paolo, Miss D, Geo, Corinnette, and Jonohs, and right then I was checking facebook for the first time in a day and was reminded that Panda Eraser put up a Batman on my wall for me, and Milo and Cinder keep inviting me over, and then I got a message from the Gentleman saying that if we change our minds and want soup, let him know, because kidlet and I are having a Sick Day. I am so ridiculously lucky to have such wonderful friends. If I’ve been avoiding anyone reading this or you haven’t heard from me in a bit, it’s probably because I was afraid if I talked to you I’d start crying and babbling about feelings, but if you don’t like getting avoided, then remind me I can suck it and better stop it! Make me talk, people, I’m a frigging powder keg over here.

    You’re all dressed like stolen cars!

    October 17, 2009

    I’d had some other plans today that I’d been really looking forward to, but they fell through, and I have come to feel that when life throws you lemons, as it so often does, you can either cry and be bitter or you can roll up your sleeves and make limoncello.*

    Scootchin’ on down to C-town with the kidlet to bring a little Muppets into Paolo and Corinnette’s quarantined Hanna lives and help Miss D decompress from these weeks of dramz.

    Try to feel sick when you’re eating soup and watching Kermit. I dare you. “See you later, alligator!”

    *limoncello is an Italian liqueur and will it fuck you uuuuuuup? boy, howdy! salute!

    Preoccupied

    October 16, 2009

    Finally going to the DMV shortly with Gorgeous George and the kidlet. Then we’re scootching down to Kaiser to see Jan-Han. Today is the Big Day on that end. Can’t really think about anything else. Paolo and Miss D may not be able to go because they are both sick and the risk of infection is much higher than I’d realized. Ditto Corinnette, Geo just said. Jan must be scared. I’m scared and it’s not even me. It’s going to be fine, right? These types of things are done every day all over the world. It’s not something that is unheard of or daringly new.

    Expect nothing else from me today, really. Very preoccupied.

    Breaking news: Power outage predicted in Ceres

    October 14, 2009

    Gorgeous George just tipped me off that Movie Day may be interrupted by CID switching over to some new folkloric meter system and cutting the power to Paolo and Miss D’s house, which was our chosen viewing venue, for a to-be-determined portion of the day. Cheezits! That’s okay: we’re flexible.

    Thus, once that outage happens, we will scoot from the honeymoon house-sitting and do our little bit of blending at the DMV rather than the Raley’s, since to complete my vehicle registration I need to prove to them I smogged my stupid car in accordance with their stupid laws and surrender my genuinely stupid Oregon plates. Only six characters on the plate? Puh-leeze. You guys are ridiculous. I can’t even look at you right now, Oregon. Ridiculous. Seven is the key number, man. Seven windows, seven doors, seven sevens! (Bonus prize in the mail to whoever nails that quote first. Not even kidding.)

    Woohoo, back in the 209 for good (and a little evil, not gonna lie): why don’t y’all make your government bureacracy-bullshit selves useful for once, DMV, and hook me up with them there ol’ Golden Stet plets! So this is not a setback at all. Still taking the day to the moon. Ow!

    Edit: The Gentleman beat everyone to the punch with a text message yesterday — “something about mary,” the man said. And he is right, sadly. Oh, I’ll send you something in the mail, all right…

    Moolti-pahz and “Who you gonna call?”

    October 14, 2009

    Heyo! Got some dogs in the fire today. Not as many as some have, like Jonohs with just under ten thousand things to do today, or Paolo and Miss D who have to watch the weather and see if they can squeeze out of Tahoe between storms or if they will have to stay another night (oh, no, whatever will they do to pass the time), and I also am not contending with gypsy-cursed attire which has been commanded to kill me, nor am I sick like Panda Eraser and the Gentleman, but some dogs nonetheless. Boy, now that I actually tally up how full the plates of my friendohs are, I’m feeling pretty footloose and fancy-free, gotta say. Sorry, guys; what is that like.

    Anyway. It is suddenly to be a movie day, and what movies! And pizza! Here is the deal. After I pick up kidlet from anarchy in the 5-k —aka kindergarten— we are going to slide on down to Ceres to visit Gorgeous George, give him and the pup-pup a little company in housesitting for Paolo and Miss D while they are on honeymoon. We are taking pizza, breadsticks, and Ghostbusters I and II with us, plus a thingy of root beer (sorry, I suck at remembering in what denomination of liters soda is sold. it’s a big one, all right?). If we need any extra supplies, I suppose we will attempt to go to Raley’s and blend. We can blend!

    Also, if the rain lets up and the damn thing gets delivered, we are going to take a look at that warranty-replacement lefthanded Cambodian fan battery —aka the new pool motor— and see if we can’t get some action happening from that department. It would be a really great welcome home surprise if the stars align and we pull it off! Again, we can go procure extra supplies for that, although we had certainly a time of it even buying a wrench last time; it resulted in driving around aimlessly and having to call people to google directions to the damn Harbor Freight (cleverly concealed as an anchor of a strip mall on a busy street in a populous area, those sly dogs!). Further, this time we are both starting to get a little squeaky-strapped for the cashflow … so this will be an adventure. Do you suppose the Home Depot takes Multipass?

    Wish me luck!

    Stormy weather, snowy going

    October 13, 2009

    This stormy weather has got me worried that Paolo and Miss D are going to get snowed in at Taahooooe. But I suppose there are worse times and places to be snowed in than with your new spouse on your honeymoon!

    Daily Batman: Ghost World edition

    October 11, 2009

    “So what are you studying? You were always such a smart little girl.”
    “I’m taking a remedial high school art class for fuck-ups and retards.”

    “Some people are okay, but mostly I just feel like poisoning everybody.”

    Sorry, guys, this is probably going to be the only post today. The lady of the house is totally done in by yesterday’s festivities. Yesterday/today was amazing!

    Breaking news: It happens AND it is a Thing

    October 10, 2009

    One hour to the wedding. Also, I am in love with the “schedule” feature on wordpress. I can be miles away and know that my nonsense is still getting published. Huzzah!

    Meanwhile, from the “it happens” desk: Oh, my god, Brad. Only ASSHOLES write on walls.

    Liberating negative space: it is a Thing!

    Got hot sauce and rose petals in place of my blood

    October 10, 2009

    Showered, shotgunning some diet cokes, and am just about all ready steady to take this day to the moon! OW!!!

    “You yourself, as much as anybody in the entire universe, deserve your love and affection.” –Buddha

    “The best thing to hold on to in life is each other.” –Audrey Hepburn

    Totally getting right on both those things. My favorite things about weddings are almost innumerable; weird, I know, what with my own separation going on and all — people keep asking me worriedly, “How are you doing with this?” and for a second I’m like, “What? Are they talking to me? Why would anyone not be awesome with this!” then I remember and twitch a little. But I am doing fine with it, in fact I’m over the moon with excitement, I barely slept the last few nights. Two of my best friends are getting married, TO EACH OTHER. Pretty huge day for me! Like, aces and green lights and pretty ponies and chinese lanterns and sparklers and shooting stars, that is how I feel. I don’t have blood in my veins right now, I got hot sauce and rose petals. Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee…….!

    One of my favoritest of favorite things, anyway, about weddings, is that everyone has come with so much love and grace in their heart. It really is a happy occasion, and so much fun is had I think because of that. It provides you a glimpse into how your life would be if your eyes were open to miracles every single day, instead of just on ones where you have deliberately thrust your cares aside to focus on other people’s happiness because they invited you and you get to dress up and chisel free food out of their folks. (This is how it begins when you are driving on your way, you’re thinking about where to sit and whether the sides with the tri-tip are going to be good or have too many carrots, but on the way home you are simply flush with the ancient thrill of wishing people in love well…it is so beautiful!)

    So I am sending you an emotional invitation to this wedding. Be down with the extraordinary today, seek out chances to dance and laugh and smile sincerely at strangers, because we are all in on this big secret of getting to be alive and that’s actually really something special. … send great vibes for this crazy beautiful magical day and I’ll catch you guys on the flip side!

    The future is now

    October 10, 2009


    ME: Feels like there’s something happening this weekend, but I just can’t remember what.
    MISS D: It’s probably in my phone. Whatev’. I got a dress just in case.
    ME: There’s an idea. Big poofy white one?
    MISS D: Thought it’d be nice.


    MY FATHER: What are the men wearing to this wedding? Have any of your friends mentioned?
    ME: [the Gentleman] is wearing a suit, [Gorgeous George] I’m not sure, and Paul is going all out; he’s wearing a tux.
    (total showboater!)

    In less than twelve hours, Paolo and Miss D will be married!

    It’s all happening.

    State of my state, or, what condition my condition is in

    October 8, 2009

    T-minus: one and a half days to Paolo and Miss D’s wedding. Squeeeee…..!

    Don’t imagine much sleep happening for anyone; I know I had trouble even last night. Miss D and I were comparing nightmares when we went to pick up her gown in SJ. I dreamt that she’d forgotten to buy a veil (totally impossible because I have seen her in it several times now, I even hung it up and put it in the chemical-odored garment bag that David’s had the gall to charge her for after she dropped umpteen dollars in their store). The place where the wedding is being held, Vintage Gardens, had in my dream a loaner veil. But it was stained along the bottom where it had been drug through the dyed frosting of a cake.

    Miss D was trying to make a brave go of it, saying, “Whatev’,” and, “It’ll be okay. No one will notice,” but it was totally noticeable and she had tears in her eyes. So I volunteered to nip over to the bridal store and pick up another veil real quick. Of all things, Miss D’s middle sister who is incredibly sweet and easygoing got in a fight with me about how ridiculous this idea was, and that there was no time because it was time to take pictures. This was all very vivid and I woke going, “Why is ‘Nina being so mean to me today?” then realized it had been a dream. Miss D’s observation when I related this dream to her was that we were the last two people she would predict would be in a fight, least of all over that; if nothing else, we would be verbally wrestling over who should be the martyr and go get the veil.

    Paolo’s brother Scotty kept popping on and off the yahoo! chat last night; I assume this means he flew safely out of Quatar and was either back in Vegas already somehow or was on a bad internet cafe connection in London. Either way, super-pumped to see him and meet his wife and son! Tempus sure fugits.

    Thanks to the masochism paper, I can afford to buy kidlet a really cute, fancy new dress for the wedding (she was a little put-out by the prospect of wearing her Easter dress from this Spring or combining the occasion with a dress which would cross-multiply into Thanksgiving and Christmas, which were the old options before the urgent paper dropped in my lap). I’m hoping to talk Miss D in to joining us: I remember those last few days before the wedding, and the total insanity. This is the last day before the chaos will truly descend, I suspect, and she needs a couple strong drinks and an appetizer from a chain restaurant to fortify her. Plus, we like to relieve stress by yelling at people in parking lots. We’re kind of incredible at it, not gonna lie.

    Then I got a hair appointment at 5, which will make it three times this year that I have entered a salon. Look at me, I’m practically a woman! Totally not as nerve-wracking as I used to think. And if I get a little distraught, I will take my cue from the patron saint of you-know-whos and simply grab a smoke, which is also nature’s appetite suppressant. Thanks, Audrey Hepburn. You always know what’s best.

    Quelle surprise.

    October 6, 2009

    I got another writing project. This one a) is legit-illegitimate, where I have to straightforward plagiarize and cannot delude myself the person needs the help or is using this as a model paper or some folklore, and b) has some whiff of the racysauce to boot. Double ooh!

    Cheezits, I don’t even like being bad, this is me putting an upbeat face on it. Well…I can’t say the topic is the worst thing ever in my book, I admit.


    Alternative Secretary poster design by Dawn Patrol on the IMP awards website.

    So, yes, I came home from the SJ trip with Miss D and, after meeting up with Paolo at Chevy’s for some strategy and relaxation (gown is safe and sound in the actual town where the wedding will be, one less care on the list this week, thank god!), I got back to the ol’ compy and found I’d won a bid on a paper for which I’d forgotten even devising a quote. Got all those dogs in the fire, stanimal, I keep saying so, and a few other frankly distracting things swirling around me.

    Quelle surprise: the topic is masochism. SS Funtimes, ahoy!

    Antisocial flutterby

    October 4, 2009

    Ah, then, I must have it all backward; do I, Anna Karina?

    This is how antisocial I am, and this is the price I pay: just a bit ago, I called Thai House on Tully (best. I am sorry, best. — no, stop talking. best.) to see if they were open, and when someone picked up the phone, I simply hung up, because I felt my question had been adequately answered by the mere fact of a voice on the other end. Are there people at Thai House working? Yes, I deduced. And did not bother to speak, just hit “end.” That’s right, I wordlessly disconnected a call with the business I was planning to patronize purely for the purpose of limiting my level of interaction with other people. I enjoy this restaurant and bear its employees nothing but good will, but did my actions remotely reflect this? No. I admit they did not.

    So then. THEN. I go to Thai House, my mind teeming with satay and moo yang daydreams, and, as I likely deserved, it wound up they are closed until 4:30. Whoever answered the phone would probably happily have told me that, had I not hung up to avoid talking to a fellow human being.

    I deserve the wait. To make up for what I’d done, when Gorgeous George hopped on to the yahoo chat and asked me to look over a recent draft of his toast for Paolo and Miss D’s wedding, I suggested that he join me at Thai House later. It is good to have a reason to comb your hair and act human. It’s important to do these things and not hole up in my cave. I’m sure of it. Otherwise I will fall out of practice at being talked to and I will lose whatever magic I might still have, and then how will I ever interact again, as I am striving to do because I have good reasons?

    Breaking news: don’t lose your cool

    October 3, 2009

    This just in: it is important to be cool and not lose it.

    Got a whole lot of business to take care of today, followed by several all-girl celebrations of major life-changing events to attend, first for Sarah-fina and then divine Miss D. Won’t be posting much, most likely. Even if I’m home I’ll probably just be sitting here ghosting and flipping through music and pictures. I have to have alone time, I have to hide in my cave before seeing a lot of people like this in such a high pressure situation, even one of happiness. A lot of the time, I get flustered and awkward about a day like today, but I had some strangely sunny spots in this week and I’m actually feeling pretty good.

    The main thing is not to lose my cool. Or, as I once told my dear old friendoh Mr. Richard “dik” Whitten when we were expressing concern about our very inebriated decision to take a trip to the movies, “It’s going to be great. We just have to maintain. Maintain.” Then I dropped my popcorn on the floor. Then when they gave me a new bucket I put mustard instead of butter on it. Confound the Irvine AMC and its baffling concessions! It happens!

    Wish me luck and I will be taking tons of pictures.

    Gal pals: they are a Thing

    October 1, 2009

    I adore my guy friends, but I vowed recently to work harder on my special female friendships, and so far I am really loving it. And I recently had a very shocking experience that brought painfully home to me how much I need to work on this issue of judging women based on their appearances. I will get to that in a moment. Really knocked me out. Let me get to it in a proper order. This may take a few posts strung out over several days because I got a lot of dogs in the fire these next few days, stanimal. (Totally pointless Frisky Dingo reference.)

    First things first!, my breasts wanted to let you know that there is a girl named Panda Eraser and she makes things all crafty style and has a blog, and that is kind of a big deal, mmkay?

    That night was an adventure, eh, madame? By the way. Be Nice or Else. (This is legitimately one of the slogans at the not-to-be-named cosmetology school through which Panda Eraser is slogging with admirable style and elan despite their attempts to drag her down; e.g. ‘Whoa, how do you make purple? Mix red and blue? Are you serious?’ and a poster which said ‘Your Amazing’. Don’t let the turkeys grind you down, Virgo Vixen — with god, Guinness, and Ekitty as your copilot, you will triumph.)

    The morning after I took that picture, Miss D and I had a hotty boom botty date to pick out the flowers for her and Paolo’s wedding (t minus: TEN DAYS eeeek). I was reading a Lally Weymouth article in Newsweek before she pulled up, and, as I climbed in the car, after a hug and greeting, my opening salvo was, “Man, I was reading this interview with Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, and they asked him how could he deny the Holocaust. I have to say, his answers were really surprising.”

    Aren’t I just the socially smoothest? Like, “Hello and oh, I’m very excited to be part of picking the flowers for the happiest day of your and Paolo’s lives, and we just got over worrying about P’s mom’s recovery from freaking double masectomy possibly conflicting with the wedding day (surgery was postponed), and we’re taking care of thousands of details this week for this important step in the path of your life’s journey together but, hey, can I take a moment of your time to talk about Iranian holocaust deniers? That’s cool, right?” Like, way to stomp on the beautiful shiny optimism of the morning, Elizabeth.

    Thank god she is a woman of intellect as well as heart. Not missing a beat, Miss D said, “What did he say? I’m curious.” We agreed we’d only heard ignorant American perspectives on Holocaust denial, but nothing from a Middle Eastern politician. Because that is all normal ladies’ behavior of a Wednesday morning on your way to get wedding flowers. Actually, he did have interesting responses, interesting in the sense of I-had-not-heard-of-that, but it is the same old anti-Semitism you can find in any country with jerks in it which is to say humans in it (total bullshit). Obviously he has a unique perspective because of Iran’s relationship with Palestine and he was positioning himself very diplomatically based on that, but he was saying disgraceful and inexcusable things about Israel, Judaism, and the behavior of Jews in Germany during WWII, to my mind, but that is neither here nor there. (Read the interview online here at the Newsweek website.)

    Anyway, having discussed international politics and effectively hammered that shit out, we turned our attention back to the domestic front and went and got the flower situation all nailed down, is the point. Although at first we are pretty sure they thought we were marrying each other, and while watching them stammer to be PC and glance back and forth between us constantly was fun, I eventually clarified, “She is the bride. I’m just a friend who’s helping.” When I told Christo this, he suggested we should have kept them going and tried to muscle a discount from their obvious discomfort. Central Valley’s nearly benignly generic homophobia = just peaches and cream.

    Shoot, I need to go for right now. Got to smog my car. I’ll schedule this to post for later and hopefully I’ll be able to turn right back around and finish up. I have more to say, it involves big hair and blondes and me being a terrible reverse discriminator who needs to step down off my aren’t-I-so-cool-for-not-being-cool high horse before the altitude makes me ill in the Bad Way.