"And much like most things with white people - they win both ways. If you decide to go with them, they feel good about getting someone off the couch and 'into the fresh air,' and if you don't decide to go, they can spend their entire time outdoors saying 'boy, this is great, X doesn't know what he/she is missing!' and running on a mix of self-satisfaction, Odwalla juice, and muesli."

I designed a terrific dress to wear to the Pride festivities. 


An Imagined Conversation & The Heist

So this week my aunt hired me to clean out this house some this crackhead couple lived in. Here's an imagined conversation between the two.

"Oh, honey, shit-battered cockroaches for dinner again!? We had that last night!"
"Oh. Oopsies. You're so right. What should we do with these then?"
"Uh, just dump them inside the burners of the stove along with some molasses."

These people were filthy, and this is coming from a slob. While I enjoy a nice pile of clothing here and there about a room, these people enjoyed having a uniform horrible smell. Every smelly part of their house smelled equally and uniformly rancid Like it was only one compromising smell. Toilet. Carpet. Fridge. I soon began to confuse the original horrid smell with the smell of the original smell drenched in gallons of orange cleaner (great stuff, btw). 

But anyway. Back to the reasonable part of my life.
So today Stephanie comes over, I tell her to park in the doctor's office across the street. She comes to the house for a while and then we decide to go shopping and grab a bite to eat, so we walk over to her car. It's dark. This doctor's office complex is fully dark, all blinds down with one corner office light on, no blinds. This sketchy looking guy is sitting at the desk of the well-lit office. Once he sees me looking at him he starts to hide, darting around the window. Not playfully. 

So then once we get back he starts hiding again, and Stephanie still had yet to see him. So she pulled out and drove a bit, to the second entrance. We drove up to the window just 
in time for him to be able to see him dart away. We had pulled up near the front entrance. I look over to the passenger side, and about three yards away this other sketchy guy is sitting there on the curb. I point him out to Stephanie and she shrieks. She just goes, "I am NOT parking here, I am NOT parking here!" and we drive away. She parks in our driveway. We are laughing our heads off but scared out of our minds. I want to come back and watch. So then we walk back with Domino, armed with Vogue, and sit on the porch of the other house. The window guy is skateboarding around. There's the curb guy, and then some new guy. They are all talking on cell phones. We hide from them, but they probably noticed us. Then they all drove away in a black BMW, which I'd seen there before. 

It was odd. I pictured the story as like the janitor cased the doctor's office and then 
brought some other people to rob it. But it's probably something much less dramatic. I hesitate to tell the people at the office, or what mutti said to do, call the police. 

I'm reading this fabulous book. It's great. Truman Capote talks shit. I might do a more in-depth review if I finish it. (I'm about halfway through as of now). It just got into the factory and all the factory people like Billy Name and Viva are being interviewed. 

Last Saturday at Goodwill someone stole my mom's cart and this book was the only thing in it. She thought someone had just taken it for the cart, so she looked on all the shelves to see where someone had stashed it. And found it back. What a glorious thrift store day. Those people can get so bitchy. But I got a Bill Tice so I'm okay with the setup. I like how the book was published in 1981 so it has a really '80s cover. The reprint has a very dated looking cover as well.  The format for the book is basically the same as the SNL retrospective, "Live from New York" where everyone's interviews are interwoven so it seems like they're telling the story to you. Which is a stellar format. 


Affirmative Action

Angelina Jolie's kids make up the perfect affirmative action for any top-tier university.

Half are white
1/3 Asian
1/6 Black.

Oooh we forgot the Latinos. Same thing Harvard said. 


You Were Right

Yeesh. I'd update this thing more frequently if exciting, happy, or worthwhile shit ever happened. 
I had a good week, lots of visits and such. Living 20 miles away from the east Cobb hub without a car makes me feel like some sort of invalid. People come over and I feel the need to entertain them. I have been working on mastering the perfect sandwich and Ghiradelli brownie. 
Living this far away shouldn't make me feel so detached. Everyone bitches about driving here. Plus where I live is a lot different from mass-commercialized east Cobb. 


Chan Marshall

Just saw Cat Power. It was incredible. Even though I only knew probably 40% of the material. Her dancing style is something to be envied. I thought it was cool how she was nervous about the Atlanta show because she was from Atlanta. 

I am not a big fan of myself right now. 

While I was typing that my vision fogged up. I don't know why. I mean, I do. Partly. I need to clean my act the fuck up. Like for serious. I enjoy having perfect grammar and eloquence in this condition. Like, WHAT A PLUS.

I am all the days that you choose to ignore. 

You're standing on the edge. 


Patricia Field, Coldplay, and hulu.com

So Friday Brian and I made a day out of going to see Sex and the City: The Movie. It didn't disappoint, but I'd have to say the real star of the whole she-bang had to be Pat Field. Like holy goddam shit. The clothes stole the show. The sex wasn't even that hot, definitely not as hot as the clothes. The hottest sex was probably the doggie-style between Miranda and Steve, which is pretty lame because they are the least pornographic looking couple. The grossest part of the movie was probably when we viewed a full on (fire)crotchshot. But anyway. Back to the clothes. Carrie was rockin' the florals something awful. I say "rockin'" not to appear hip and happenin' but because the nice demure 50's florals were brilliantly paired up with a vintage punk rock black studded belt and some killer Dior Extreme heels AT ALL TIMES. Once we see the sad Carrie, she starts wearing more black and being all sad, BUT IS STILL ROCKING THIS BELT. It pops up at the end as well. It's a nice touch. There was of course the necessary bridal montage and Carrie ends up in probably the least flattering of all the dresses used. I would've gone with the LaCroix, had I been her fictional character. The Zac Posen bridesmaid's dresses were breathtaking, especially the black one Charlotte wore.  I loved that they were all different colors. 

The new Coldplay leaked the other day and I've been listening to it off-and-on, but not seriously. It didn't excite me at all. I guess when an album leaks its just always got a different feel or vibe. You never hear the songs in the order you're supposed to, the titles are all jumbled. I got the Gnarls Barkley when it leaked, burned copies for friends, and it turned out all the songs were in the wrong order because they were all labeled with the wrong titles. I was trying to get this Coldplay all in order and it turned out there's five extra songs supposedly on the album. I don't even know why Rolling Stone reviews bootleg and that sort of thing. I think we should just keep all this illegal shit hush-hush and under the rug. Like a gay aristocrat. Now with all this downloading and shit there's all the acoustic versions, iTunes exclusives. Plus you know Coldplay has to be pretentious and combine tracks, and then some douche needs separate them and make them available for download. Sheesh. Maybe people should pay for shit occasionally. I don't love these songs, but I'm hoping that maybe if I listen to them in order I might warm to them.

So. I have a new addiction in the form of all my favorite television shows (Arrested Development and It's Always Sunny In Philadelphia pretty much) available for free streaming in the form of www.hulu.com. It's the greatest thing since sliced illegal streaming. And it has a lot of episodes of Morgan Spurlock's "30 Days" which I never had occasion to see owing to the fact that I don't have cable (the mother is against TV). I have become such a leather lounge chair potato as a result. "30 Days" is really stellar. So far my favorite episode had to be the one where Morgan and his wife Alex go live in Ohio on minimum wage. Once they started stressing about money their immune systems weakened and they fought so much more. Pretty interesting stuff. 

The past 4 days I had no internet connection and it is now miraculously much stronger, which I am happy of. 

We found a home for the cat. My cousin's friend's sister's (holy apostrophes) cat just died and she's been searching for a new one ever since. Ours sufficed. I was glad. I liked being a cat owner for 3 days. It was fun. I am glad I got to experience it. Now I know I never want a cat. It clawed up enough of my shit to piss me off, it scratched my skin so it looks like I self-harm. Ew. 


Dressing like Sophia and a Cat That Thinks it's a Dog

Yesterday I went to apply for a job at an Italian restaurant on the Square. I put on a crisp linen shirtdress with brown and pink stripes, big white round sunglasses, and gold flats. I kept the kinks in my hair and made it big and smooth. I contemplated a light brown Florentine hat, but conceded that it was too hot. I was dressed like Sophia Loren. On purpose. I had pictured this restaurant being run by the Sopranos or the Corleones. I got there and there was no smoky dark back room. The first guy I talked to told me I wasn't the guy he was looking for, he was the window washer. Then some old leathery classic Southern lady came out. and asked if she could help me, honey? I told her how I'd seen on craigslist that there were a lot of job openings at this particular restaurant, and wondered if any of the positions had been filled. She told me the manager was busy right now but she'd be able to see me later, and gave me an application. Whaaaaat? Where was Tony? Where was Vito?  This Italian restaurant was turning out to be pretty much bullshit. What was the point of dressing up for these mom-jeans clad people?

Today when my aunt got home I was talking on the phone and my aunt put a kitten in my lap. She told me it was abandoned in a storage facility and a client of hers had found it, and was deathly allergic. So she took it home. And now my aunt's dog, Peaches, is nursing it. My dogs don't like or trust it yet. It tried to nurse my dog, Domino (spawn of Peaches) and she flipped out. 

I've sneezed at least 6 times in the past 2 hours. None of those were like, three in a row either. I think I'm allergic to cats. I've never had one before, there's no way of knowing. We'll see. I need to think of a name for the cat before my mom and my aunt come up with some stupid one. Together they have some of the worst pet names in history. Fluffy (dog). Honey Bee (dog). 'Atta Boy (dog). La Morena, because she was black. I wanted to name her Token (dog). Domino because she has black spots and she's white (dog). I am pretty sure this cat is a female. She's like a Maine Coon mix I'd estimate. But in my mind there's only like two types of cats. 


The Periodicals of the Rich. And Obama.

I like to dumpster dive in the recycling center. Just to steal old "People" magazines. The recycling center is two houses down, in the garden center. It's weird to climb in the dumpster and look at all these magazines rich people read. They all have beautiful homes, does that have to do with the fact that they all read "Veranda" and "Southern Living". There are the weirdest things in there too. Like shares and the minutes to stockholder's meetings. RICH RICH RICH. Whenever I walk by the huge pink mansion down the street (it has a historical marker and whatnot) I always wonder what those people do all day. I don't know much about them. They have Chinese urns in the window. They hand out full sized candy bars on Halloween. They have a pool house. And a stable of sorts. A large piece of land. I wonder if they recycle. If they've dropped off some of the  issues of The New Yorker or Playboy that I've seen. I always wonder what they do inside their huge pink house. Scrabble? Do they have a home theatre or is that just a Buckhead thing? I wonder what they do in The Archibald Howell Home. I remember that because I read it almost every day when I pass the historical marker. That's one of two houses I can think of on this street with a historical marker. The other one is this farm called Oakton where some generals stayed during the Civil War. The Oakton people must've sold some of their land to developers, because there's a neighborhood in what would be the back of their sprawling yard. That Oakton place looks quite Austenian. I wonder if they recycle. I just can't even picture people living there. 

I guess Obama is now the Democratic nominee. Meh. Hooray history. 

That was all I was gonna write on the matter but then I was looking for a funny Obama picture on Facebook and was shocked that they were all so racist. They really took advantage of the "Barack Hussein O(s)ama" play-on-words. How fucking tasteless. But then I found that picture which I thought was pretty funny. Because to me it symbolizes those who like Obama. The same people jump on the Obama wagon as jump on the Che wagon. People forget Che was a murderer. They forget all the shitty things he did (killed civilians) and just get this Motorcycle Diaries mentality. They turn his life into an adventurous Disney movie and silk-screen away. Same with a lot of the Obama people I know. They listen to what Obama says and forget that he lacks experience and doesn't have a great health care plan. "Ohhh he talks about HOPE all the time!" Yes. Hope is a valuable thing. Just not as valuable as a good speech writer. If Che was ugly as shit he would not be an icon. If a good casting choice for The Motorcycle diaries had been say, Horatio Sanz (trying to keep it Latino) instead of superhot Gael Garcia Bernal, he wouldn't be a tee-shirt. Che was a Marxist, but you never see any Karl Marx tee-shirts. If Obama was bad (or even average) at giving a powerful and compelling speech about nothing, he wouldn't be as popular. I know that would mean he'd be less likely to be a politician. But still. STFU about Obama. But he's still better than McCain, I'll give him that. 


Radiohead "Going Green"

I just read in the new Rolling Stone that Radiohead's lighting rig is all LED lights, to be "green" and consume less power. Well I'm glad of that because their lighting rig when I saw them on May 8 was tight as shit. I never liked the song "There There" before those lights. They were incredible. 

The article was all about bands like Radiohead, DMB, and Jack Johnson trying to be as eco-friendly as possible, and Radiohead was practially the star. That made me happy. 

Oh, prah. Obesity. Censoring Facebook.

I am watching this episode of Oprah about obesity. It's 34 minutes in and I just now realized I've seen it before. I guess I just watch a ton of stuff about obesity. (Pun intended). There was this one story on the episode (the one that sparked my memory) that really struck me. Some lady who weighed around 400 lbs. and was prone to binge eating, ordered a 3 tier wedding cake, put two fake names on it, and then that's all she ate over a 2 day period. That just seemed like the saddest thing in the world. Especially the symbolism of the wedding cake. Just thinking about how she must've felt, or I guess how I would've felt, just like, hurt my feelings a bit. And then she said once she had lost enough weight to safely exercise, she was walking and some dudes threw a bottle at her. I would just feel so vulnerable. I really don't understand why there is so much emphasis on obesity on television. It's like non-sexual voyeurism almost. Like you're spying. This winter when I was at the beach the weather was horrible and I watched this obesity marathon of sorts on the Discovery Health Channel. I laid in a huge bed, ate fattening foods, and watched that marathon for hours. Like an obese person. It was relaxing. But it was basically seeing these people humiliated. One show made the people get their ass up and look at all the food they ate in one day. It always covered at least the whole dining room table. The reactions were mixed, some cried when they saw all that food, some didn't believe it, one guy sat down and ate all of it. 
On that note,
I have been doing a lot of biking lately. I fixed my bike up last week, and have been riding around at least an hour a day each day ever since. I didn't today, becau
se it's Monday, and I enjoy doing nothing on Monday. So instead the main activities of today were folding clothes and watching some of my Tyra and my Oprah. Since I'm at my aunts, the turf is a historic district one way, which is always cool to bike around, and a nature trail the other way, which is always nice to bike on. 
Yesterday kind of sucked. My uncle was in town for the weekend and I guess he didn't really want to see me because I don't have my life together. He didn't have his life together until like 4 years ago, so I don't know what his problem is. My cousin called me all smug to tell me I didn't need to come over. She was like, "uhm, I saw something on Facebook [my status a couple weeks ago, she doesn't know dick about Facebook] where you said you were happy about Summer, why would you be happy about that, you're not in school or anything..." she was bumbling all her words because she's horrible at being a bitch. Which is worse in a way because it's like a 7th grade flashback or something. But you could tell she had told this to other people like it was some funny anecdote. 
"Why would she care about the seasons?! She's not in school! Hahahaha isn't that hilarious, Boyfriend I Devote All My Time To?!?!" 
"Oh yeah. Let's have sex now." 
That seems like it must be all she does. He probably knows all my business. I hate that. Other Cousin tells her husband pretty much everything. The last time I was at their house they went and took a shower together to discuss me. I could hear them talking about it. 
 I am Facebook friends with one of Other Cousin's best friends, and she must Facebook stalk me or something, because she is ALWAYS asking nosy questions about stuff I post. On Memorial Day I went to Sweetwater Creek with my mom and aunt (mother of Cousins) and put my status as "sunburned from Sweetwater" and I have a private message from this girl that's like, "exactly WHAT were you doing at Sweetwater, and how." 
She thought I meant Sweetwater BREWERY. Which is named after the creek. What an effing lush to assume I was off getting drunk and then apparently bragging about it on Facebook. She's done other things about that in the past. My friend Katharine posted a video where we were talking about one occasion (before I went to rehab for a bevy of things) where I was roaring drunk and puked everywhere. She apparently told Other Cousin and her spouse about it. This is a stupid thing to write about, but it's just been bugging me, stop being effing nosy. This girl (keep in mind) thought a great default picture would be her chugging a huge beer in full cinco de Mayo regalia. She binge drinks. Leave me alone. I thought it was a little Third Reich-y that Facebook started allowing "Friends Lists", where you can filter what certain groups of friends can and cannot see, but I am beginning to think that it'd be a good idea to make one for the 25 and up nosy crowd. It's not my best interests you have at heart if you are concerned about me going to a creek with my family or saying I was happy for summer, it's you being a snug asshole. 

P.S. I love how asshole is apparently in the Apple Dictionary. Hahahaha I just looked it up.