I'm walking in AIDS Walk again this year for my 4th year in a row. I've raised close to $7000 for local HIV and AIDS services over the last four years via AIDS Walk San Diego, but they can always use more.
The event is on September 28th and I hope you'll reach down in your pocket and pluck out a buck or ten or twenty or whatever you can afford. Any donation is welcome. It would mean a lot. Thank you!
When I pulled into the drive-thru Starbucks this morning, it looked like gridlock on the 405, so I parked next door and decided to walk in. On my way past the front door, I was greeted by an extremely fragrant hobo and his hobo wife, Nadine. I only her name is Nadine because she put out her foot when I approached and said through the handful of rotten teef she had left (and I do mean teef), “I’m Nay-DEEN and nobody done passes Nay-DEEN without good mornins.” Her accent is probably charming… for the lead singer of a jug band, but I could barely understand her.
So, I went around her, but said good morning anyway. Eau du Hobo stood up as I reached for the door, staring me in the eye while rummaging in a bucket. I got a little worried for a split second, but then he produced a half-eaten roll of Mentos that looked like it had been run over by a car a few times.
“Look at you! You are a Golden Goddess of Venutia!” as he waved the Mentos around. “You are a vision, a Venutia vision! Look at her, NAY-deen! She’s a Venutian and I’m just a big ugly alien! Aren’t I, NAY-deen? From Maaaaarrrrrrrrs!”
Insert big stinky hobo grin here. Then he offered me a Mentos.
I smiled… I couldn’t help it! I declined, of course, but I smiled. I mean, come on! An employee came outside on the tail end of that exchange to tell Smelly and Nadine to move it along because their cart was blocking the doorway and as I followed her back inside to get in line, she turned around and said, “Nothing like an ego boost first thing in the morning, huh?” with a wink.
By the time I got back outside, Stinkpot and Nadine were gone. My coffee this morning was awful — they must have poured me the dregs of the pot, but the trip was worth it for the hobos alone. I just wish I’d given them my $2.25.
Joelle said around mid-afternoon on August 25, 2008
I am officially exhausted. Spent. Pooped. BUSHED! Kathy is on the plane (or perhaps at her layover by now, I’m not sure) and I am going to be spending the next day and a half recuperating and prepping myself for the majesty that is my inbox.
This weekend was some of the best fun I’ve had in a long time. And the most stuff I’ve done in a long time, too. We had very full and busy days the entire time she was here. From the moment her plane touched down, it was lunch at the Prado, Grey Goose and a piano bar at Martinis Above Fourth, karaoke at the Lamplighter, TMI about a stranger’s areola, some eggs benedict, a harbor ferry, an almost-purchased Dr. Seuss painting, a bunch of maritime crap, a whole bunch of laughing, a lot of “Yay!!"-ing and clinking of glasses, a dash of Eurotrash, some twigs and berries, one hangover pizza and a handful of girl movies. Oh, and excessive quoting of the movie “Knocked Up”.
I think the best part of Kathy being here was spending time with her (of course!) and many of our friends. Our cocktail party at Lei Lounge was faaaabulous and I think a more-than-good time was had by all. Much, much more. I’m not naming names or anything, but the offending drink was pink.
I haven’t laughed that hard in a long time. I really, really needed that. Thank you to everyone who was able to make it — it meant a lot to have you there.
Naptime is imminent, but I will close with a little gem that Daniel and Richard shared with us. We can’t stop quoting this either. If you’re sensibilities are delicate, you’ve been duly warned. Don’t bother trying to make sense of it, just enjoy.
This nicely sums up the next 5 days. I can’t wait until Kathy gets here! It’s officially our vacation, but I know we’re going to end up talking shop at some point. We have too many ideas we want to dish about and when we only see each other once a year on average, we’ll take any opportunity we can get.
It’s first and foremost time off, but it’s a lot easier to talk shop with a side of margaritas, don’t you think?
Joelle said in the early morning on August 13, 2008
I noticed last night that in commercials for Oreo cookies, the people in different commercials all eat their Oreo exactly the same way: twist open, lick once, put back together, then dunk and eat. I don’t feel Oreo is best representing a wide cross-section of Oreo eaters. It’s like they’re trying to set some kind of Oreo-eating standard. I have never in my entire life met anyone whose Oreo Process™ was that.
Oh, I don’t doubt they’re out there — those who absolutely must eat their Oreo just like they do in the commercial. But what about the artists? The rebels? What about those who just bite into it as-is? What about those who (*gasp!*) couldn’t give a damn about the “creme” filling? What about those who consume sans milk?!
Personally, my Oreo Process is as follows:
Nibble off the top cookie in little bites like a mouse.
Scrape off the “creme” filling with my bottom teeth in small bits. Never lick.
Nibble bottom cookie at my leisure.
Store on my thighs for Winter.
I’m not saying it should be done like this, per se. I just don’t understand why Oreo feels they have to force their belief system on the rest of us. We’re buying and eating your cookie, Nabisco. What more do you want from us? Our souls?
It’s a stressful time for me right now. I’ve got many big projects that I must launch before Kathy’s visit next week, we’re trying to get our Femmeplates™ up and running (though, it’s a soft launch) and I’ve been pretty much married to my computer, working dawn to well, well past dusk.
So I didn’t notice that another of my fish died yesterday.
NPH had been sickly since before Flapjack bought the farm, but I thought he was getting better. The last few days he’s looked a bit wan and colorless, sort of depressed, but he was still reacting to my presence, swimming when I’d approach and eating. I didn’t miss his feeding, I didn’t overfeed him, I didn’t neglect him… he just died.
The odd thing is that 2 days ago I bought another fish to use Flapjack’s old bowl… finally. I wanted to be fairly sure none of my other fish were going to die before getting another. Ah, irony.
He’s another Betta, fairly large and almost entirely midnight blue-black except for his super long flowy fins and tail which are dark orange with black tips. I’ve not given him a name yet; I’m waiting for it to come to me.
We’re back from our little vacation and are relaxed, recharged and fired up to take on our projects! Kathy and I are also preparing to review the many, many wonderful inquiries we received over … MORE...
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