Saturday, May 31, 2008

Things That Make Me Go... No, Not "Hmm," More Like "WTF Am I Doing With My Life"

Pulling into my lot this afternoon after having seen the new Indiana Jones movie, a pizza delivery guy pulled in behind me. He was driving an Audi. Drinking begins early tonight.

Friday, May 30, 2008

A rant

I got a little rant here at the end of the day.

Jezebel: Dear Gerry: You Gotta Think About What You're Trying To Do To Me

Stoprobber's Open Thread on "Lost"

I'll admit, I've seen two episodes but don't follow the show. It might make me a bad person, a terrible hipster, whatever. But someone on Crappy Hour was dying for a discussion thread, so here one is. If you don't want spoilers, don't click though.

Keeping Up With the Joneses, But Not Sleeping

Glamocracy: Obaminutiae, With A Side Of McCain
Glamocracy: 5 Reasons Hillary Shouldn't Drop Out
Glamocracy: It's About to Be A Busy Weekend!
Glamocracy: Michigan and Florida: Here's the Deal

Jezebel: Crappy Hour
Jezebel: Crappy Hour

Wednesday, May 28, 2008

Things You Do on a Monday Afternoon

So, um, sorry about yesterday. A girl friend of mine was in town and we got together so I didn't put stuff up because by the time she left, I had to nap.

Glamocracy: In Everyone's Defense
Glamocracy: Hey, Storked! Which Way Are the Moms of the World Leaning?
Glamocracy: How To Get Back At Your Boss

Jezebel: Crappy Hour
Jezebel: Crappy Hour

DCist: How Not To Be That Intern

Monday, May 26, 2008

My Addiction

Yeah, I ain't talking about alcohol. I'm a shoe addict. I might've mentioned it before.

These are my brand-spanking new, paid-too-much-money-for-them-but-I-don't-care Baby Phat shoes. They are hootchie. They match the dress I was wearing. My friend Steve and I went out on the town last night to celebrate my WaPo story, the purchase of these shoes and to take our minds off of some stuff in our lives that's sucked. There's little that you can't forget about when you have enough to drink and wear a pair of shoes like this that require that you pay conscious attention to remaining upright.

By the way, that is a cat embossed on the heel.

So, we went out to what is a very nice bar and dance club in D.C. which, as I'm about to crap all over it, I won't name, and when I went to the unisex bathroom, below was what awaited me, my dress and my beloved absurdist shoes.

That's a toilet with no motherfucking seat. It's a prison toilet. It's not like you can fit a Shenis in a purse, dudes. Oh, and there was no sign or anything on the door, either.

Saturday, May 24, 2008

That thing

So, I had my first piece published in a serious place today: the Washington Post published an opinion piece I wrote called 5 Myths About Lobbyists. It's a little strange that the comments are, like, more vitriolic and less coherent than I'm even used to, right?

All the long week

Glamocracy: Political Time Machine: HBO's "Recount"
Glamocracy: McCain Still Old, But Obama's a Commie!
Glamocracy: Recruiting for the Church of Obama: A Dating Story
Glamocracy: Obama Still Not a Muslim, We Swear.
Glamocracy: A Poll: What Role Did Sexism Play in Hillary's Campaign?
Glamocracy: Only 3 More Primaries to Go!
Glamocracy: The End of the Evening Primary Results
Glamocracy: Clinton Takes Kentucky
Glamocracy: How Much Is That Superdelegate In The Window?
Glamocracy: Byrd Joins Obama's Flock
Glamocracy: Geraldine, I Feel Like We've Had This Discussion Before
Glamocracy: A Blogger's Paradise: More Scandal, Please
Glamocracy: Even When It's Over, It Won't Be Over For Some People

Jezebel: Crappy Hour Friday
Jezebel: Crappy Hour Thursday
Jezebel: Crappy Hour Wednesday
Jezebel: Crappy Hour Tuesday
Jezebel: Crappy Hour Monday

Radar: Review of Recount

Yeah, I know I'm lame

I owe y'all links for the week. I was traveling, busy, depressed, whatever. That's tomorrow.

Tonight was finally a pretty good night. Sometimes, I like not having to justify my moods. Anyway, so I was listening to the song below, looking at myself, trying to remember if this wrinkle or that mole is old or new, trying to remember what it is to celebrate an accomplishment without focusing on my failures and all I could come up with was a good bottle of wine and some music that isn't completely depressing.

Sunday, May 18, 2008

My friends are totally smarter than me

JC: And I can't tell him that all of us over the 20's realize his arrogant front is a shield against self doubt I was 25, I know I would not have envisioned me saying this stuff
me: HA. Well, but you had all of the self-doubt and none of the arrogance.

Ladies, he's single and lives in Boston. I'm just sayin'. We're usually much more attractive, just not when we've each had a bottle of wine.

Falling further behind

Ugh, so, it's been a hard couple of days and I'm behind again.

Glamocracy: Ghosts of Racists Past
Glamocracy: Hey, Sweetie, What's the Deal With You Calling Her "Sweetie"?
Glamocracy: The Great Divide: Families and Politics
Glamocracy: Why aren't there more young women in political office?
Glamocracy: Obama Racks Up Endorsements, May Lose Sean Penn

Jezebel: Meet The Women Who Will Doom Us To A McCain Presidency
Jezebel: Crappy Hour
Jezebel: NARAL's Endorsement Of Obama Is Neither Disrespectful Nor Disloyal
Jezebel: Crappy Hour

Saturday, May 10, 2008


My best friend, JC, came to visit for the weekend. As was the case the last time I visited him in Boston, my uterus has been doing its damdest to escape from the warm, normally friendly confines of my lower abdomen (i.e., I have wicked cramps), so my mood hasn't been the sunniest. The near-constant rain has meant that my hair is all frizzy, too, but I put on my now-infamous Pat-Sajak-meeting blouse and took him to a going-away party for my friend Brian. Of course, the night when I'm in pain and have frizzy hair (though my gay friends said my tits looked amazing) is also the night when Brian's friend Phillippe Cousteau comes by. He's pretty and less gay in person. I was just like, oh, fuck, whatever, let's get to the next party so I can drink. We did, and I did. We had dinner with a bunch of friends, us hard-core ones went to another bar where we were officially annoyed by the preppy douchebag vibe and then ditched Brian's after party because of our inability to take anymore douchebaggery. JC and I finished drinking at my place, which is cheaper anyway.

Today, we went to Mount Vernon. I've never been, weirdly enough. It's pretty. It's also expensive and overly reverential and steeped too much in the big-man school of historical philosophy, but at least we didn't get rained on. Tonight, we're eating some yummy food and drinking a bunch of wine. Then I have to sit and do some more work tomorrow. But, in the mean time, here's the thing that cracked us the fuck up this afternoon.

Monday, May 5, 2008

Answer the question

Melanie sent me this song last week just because it was cool after a conversation we had about a boy who doesn't deserve her. He still doesn't.

Let's not talk about me, though. Unless you know when she's playing in D.C.

I don't like to gamble

Glamocracy: My Prediction for Indiana and North Carolina: Unpredictability

From the family archives

From my father this morning:
I may have to stop reading your blog, too much information!! Nice picture of your feet though.
Oops. I have, however, been debating whether to spend the money on a pedicure this afternoon after taking that picture.

Busy Day. Probably a good thing.

Glamocracy: Are Superchunk and Tom Hanks Worth More Than 18 Cents a Gallon? (comments wanted!)

Jezebel: Crappy Hour

Late night drunken conversations

Me: I really think my ring finger toe is longer than my middle toe .
Greg: Mine, too.
Me: I've been drinking, so I'm a little distracted by my toes.
Greg: That was not the word I expected to hear at the end of that sentence.
Me: I'm going to take a picture
Greg: Okay
Me: I'm going to get a bunch of foot fetishists on my ass but I don't care.
Greg: Okay,
Me: Is this weird?
Greg: This is not even close to the weirdest conversation we've had when you've been drunk.
Me: What is?
Greg: I don't think we have time to go through the top 100.
Me: I dated a guy in the fall who swore he wasn't a foot festishist.
Greg: I'm pretty sure I don't want to hear the end of this story.
Me: One time, in the middle of sex, he started sucking my toes.
Greg: I was right.

Saturday, May 3, 2008

A polite request

Hey, so if you're reading this, you're probably clicking around and commenting on various things, and I totally appreciate that. That said, please, please, please start commenting on what I write on Glamocracy. I spend a bunch of time writing it, and I am freakishly unused to having any feedback. Feed my ego, please.

Weekend activities

I have been dogsitting this weekend. I never had a pet growing up, but I have played dogsitter and catsitter on and off since I was a kid. I'm the godmother to the dog upstairs. The difference this time is that the dog is staying at my place. There's been snuggling. And the Internet told me that dogs like frozen greenbeans, and they do. How strange.

I have, however, fallen twice as I got yanked around chasing squirrels. My right knee is skinned. And I'm definitely going to have to vacuum after he goes home tomorrow. But given the choice of no one to snuggle on my couch with this weekend and someone who leaves more hair in my bed than my Italian ex-boyfriend, I don't mind the cleaning.