Reclaiming Miss Havisham

aha!

Do you ever have one of those moments where you feel like if you don't remember some piece of trivia it will kill you?  Something is right there in your brain if you could only just think of it?  And you feel like you will not be able to go on living for a single second longer if you can't remember? 

Well whenever I see a picture of Dooce I try to figure out who the fuck she reminds me of.  And I finally found it.  I can finally be happy. 

Emily Haines, lead singer of Metric formerly of Broken Social Scene

Emily Haines

Dooce

Emily Haines

Dooce

Peeling Paint

following a link today from bohemian hellhole (I know, I know, how far up this woman's ass can I get?) brought me to a site where I found the following photographs.  Most of you already know how much I love photographs of abandoned delapidated buildings and I haven't posted any in a while.  Sometimes I forget how romantic the Miss Havisham character always was to me.  Most people found her to be a pathetic villain lost in madness.  I know what it's like, though, to just want everything to stay the same and how heartbreaking and yet healing it is when it doesn't.   

8 years ago tomorrow my first love, the boy I lost my virginity to, died in a car accident on his way to register for classes for his freshman year at college.  He was actually dating one of my very best friends Michelle *at first and then I stole him.  It's not a story I'm proud of, but I was 15, desperate for attention and he liked me and had a car.  I do not regret the opportunity to get to know James*, but I'll always regret what I did to Michelle.  After breaking up for the second time, he began to date one of our mutual friends, Elisa* around april or may before the summer he died.  He cheated on her with me and one other person I know about, but none of us have ever told Elisa.  What would be the point?

A few days before he died we were chatting online and had an eerie conversation that brought about a lot of closure.  We had fought like Italians and been off again on again so much (due mainly to the fact that I could never shake the guilt when the two of us ran into Michelle in public) but we basically forgave each other for everything and he told me he would tell his grandchildren about me when recalling his first true love.  When Michelle and two of my other friends came to tell me about the car accident I was working at an indie theater in Nashville.  While the movies were playing the box office was extremely slow and I had taken up reading pulpy murder mystery books.  When my three friends walked in I admonished them for interrupting me in my book right when someone was about to die.  Their faces were white as sheets.

I go to the cemetary to see his grave everytime I'm in Nashville.  No one really knows that I do this.  At this point its not really as much about James as it is a homecoming ritual for me.  It's a beautiful cemetery completely impenetrable by sound.  I always sit in the exact same spot.  Since I was 15.  It makes me feel like I'm 15.  Which is terrifying.

More than the bottled up grief I carried with me back then I feared time passing more than anything.  I remember sitting in my spot thinking "what will it be like five years from 07.18.00? 10 years?  How is that even possible?"  I went less and less as high school wore on but I went to the cemetery the weekend before I left for my freshman year of college and wept for the first time in years over the whole thing.  How could I be going to college when the 17 year old boy was in the ground?  How did I surpass him in terms of life milestones?  His time stands still and mine keeps going and we get farther apart.  Now I can barely remember him in life.  If everything had stayed the same and I was feeling the grief like a twisting knife in the gut then we were still close.  It was still recent.  Somehow I closed my eyes and now its been 8 years and 2300 miles. 

It is not my intention to write a pretentious weepy post.  I just saw these pictures and a comment underneath that made me think about the whole thing and I suddenly realized the date. 

"My heart is bleeding. I always feel the pain if an old building is left to die a slow death... Especially when signs of former life are still there. "

I know what she means, but why do we automatically assume the building is in pain?  We spend so much time and money remodeling our kitchens and surgically lifting our tits that I'm not sure anyone remembers why we are fighting the aging process so hard.  If the building can't die then it was never actually alive.  So what if our knees start sagging and our eyes become sinkholes.  Why do people want to stay so beautiful anyways?  By trying to freeze everything in time maybe we're just tying clinging to the painful experiences of our youth without realizing it.  If your house crumbles, it's too late to put up a facade; just get up, leave, and walk away.  I need to remind myself to just get on with it.  Whatever "it" may be.  Let the house fall down, that's what happens with time.  We just have to make sure we don't let it crush us.

photographs of riverside state hospital found here

new work from the most important artist of our time

It's a simple enough formula:

1. Dress an animal in snappy human outfits

2. Animal becomes employed in a formerly human-dominated occupation

3. Draw portrait of animal

4. ????

5. Profit!

Anyways, new delicious absurdities from Berkley Illustrations, etsy seller extraordinaire:

I ordered this one IMMEDIATELY for my office which is sorely lacking rodent-related art.  The pigs and sheep here are real spotlight hogs.

Rat

cheetah

Doe, a deer, a female deer.

great white shark

Bat  (thanks, Erika!)

My campaigning for a dinosaur has so far been fruitless, but I am optimistic.  And hopeful.  If there is anyone who can satisfy my dream of having a portrait of a dinosaur in a man's suit it it this man:

because that really is the american dream, isn't it? (Thanks, Jane Austen!)

RMH vs. More Ways to Waste Time: Smackdown

So has everyone been reading bohemian hellhole?  It's one of my favorite new blogs.  It's a shining oasis in a desert of blogs full of crocheted owls and danish credenzas.  It's also in my top five favorite blog names up there with Yard Sale Bloodbath and Scented Glossy Magazines.  What better way to describe my favorite style ever than "bohemian hellhole"  That's just good diction, people.

Here's a little taste:

images via bohemian hellhole

I'm also trying to create my own little bohemian hellhole in my room.  It certainly has the "bones" for it.  (kill me now)

I bought the bella quilt and matching shams from anthropologie, the rich man's bohemian hellhole one stop shopping.  I think the quilt looks less perky and sunny in my room because as I have yet to buy a bed I am on a mattress on the floor which is more crackden flophouse than bohemian hellhole.  There's a fine line.

My room is quite large and I have very little furniture that I brought with me.  I'm holding out as long as I can before I ikea the situation.  I feel like I can make a really great hellhole from craigslist and various antique/junk stores around town.  Nothing against ikea, they are so good at what they do, I just don't want it right now. 

What I do want?  I opened my inbox last week to see a fabulous craigslist tip from Leah of More Ways to Waste Time.  For $175 clams this is waiting for a new home somewhere out in the east bay:

oh yea.  that's a vintage velvet fainting couch.  Your eyes do not deceive you.  I would link to the original ad but I'm too scared of getting snaked.  I've been emailing back and forth with this woman.  Now Leah is threatening to snake me.  As much as I love and admire her blog, I'll scratch her eyes out for this delicious disaster.  The owner said "if you are interested email me next monday" that next monday is today so I sent an email this morning.  Is she putting me through some sort of test? 

I wish I had a career where I could write letters to companies all day

A little bit of background: 

My very best friend from college and beyond lives in Charlotte, NC but we talk all the time both online and on the phone.  She was telling me about doing jigsaw puzzles on the computer and I said "oh I love jigsaw puzzles, but I like the real cardboard ones from the game store"  This inspired her to seek out a few puzzles of her own to do at home.  She figured she would pop in Wal-Mart while out doing errands.   As it turns out the "puzzle and games" aisle didn't have a single real non-electronic puzzle for sale. 

Unbelieveable right?  She then goes to a speciality game store in a terrifying neighborhood...no puzzles.  WTF?  I told her if she didn't write and insane preachy letter then I would on her behalf and send it like I'm her.  So help me god if they don't send her a free puzzle...

Even walmart.com when you search "puzzle" gets six hits 1 of which isn't even a puzzle but a puzzle piece shaped mirror for a child's room.  Skanks for nothing, Wallyworld.

(please give suggestions or corrections....lord knows I don't proofread well and remember I'm pretending to be Erin in Charlotte, NC not Leslie in SF)

***********

To Whom it May Concern:

Your company prides itself as being one stop shopping for the everyday salt-of-the-Earth hardworking American family.  The name Wal-Mart conjures images of an oasis where the average man can finally find release from inflating prices and overstimulating consumerism.  I imagine a busy mother frolicking joyfully gathering all she needs for the week (while being mindful to watch her head for those pesky "falling prices").  

 

Recently, I have found myself enjoying online jigsaw puzzles.  It reminds me of a time when I was a child and this challenging wholesome activity could occupy my family and me for hours.   It was time spent away from computers and video games.  It promotes logical thinking and boosts problem solving skills.  I enjoy progress as much as the next person, but we have all wasted years of our lives in front of  computer monitors and television screens.  I never considered the fact that jigsaw puzzles had become too archaic and unprofitable even for Wal-Mart's standards.

 

On July 9th I arrived at Wal-Mart Supercenter at 3240 Wilkinson Blvd. in Charlotte, North Carolina, and super was it not.  In addition to a Garden Center, 1-hour photo Center, Subway Sandwich shop, Tire and Lube Center ("that's what she said"), and Portrait Studio, this store had an entire aisle dedicated to "games and puzzles"!  I raced forwards to peruse my many choices like a kid in a candy shop only to discover that there was not a single puzzle in sight.  Clearly my expectations for the "games and puzzles" aisle were both unrealistic and unfounded.  I just assumed that because I was not shopping for something esoteric and obscure (like an exotic bird or a nuclear warhead) my local Wal-Mart would carry it.

It's not as if I have been living under a rock avoiding the computerization of entertainment, but just in case I decided to inspect what kind of entertainment Wal-Mart does endorse for people of all ages.  For your "avid hunter" aged 8 years and older you offer up Huntin' 3 Plug N' Play TV game that boasts "new and improved graphics as well as realistic game play".  Finally a fantastic way to desensitize young boys to gruesome violence without consequences!  You don't even have to leave your home any longer to blow the brains out of a land mammal point blank with a 28 inch rifle!

For the next generation of vain American princesses you offer Digi Makeover Interactive Makeup Kit for $59.82.  With this game girls aim a digital camera at their faces and by using computer controls, can apply virtual make-up to themselves or their homely friends.  Now this may just be me going crazy, but this sounds suspiciously like what I used to do with the free cosmetic samples my mother would pass along to me to play with as a little girl. 

It's really none of my business which toys Wal-Mart offers.  I just wanted you to know that not everyone thinks that the future of family-friendly entertainment lies solely in the advancement of technology.  All I wanted was a cardboard jigsaw puzzle, a game that doesn't come with batteries, live wires, or assault rifle training.  I doubt that I am alone in this sentiment. 

So go ahead and make me an appointment at Wal-Mart's Vision Center, because I guess I'm stuck with the glaring light of online jigsaw puzzles.

Sincerely,

Erin

I promised you guys a reasonable amount of mental illness when you started reading this blog...

Dermatillomania:  an obsessive compulsive disorder where the patient has an uncontrollable urge to pick or tear at their own skin even when painful in response to stress.  Very similar to trichotillomania which I also have (legs not head) Probably started around puberty.  Older sister does it too (only found out a few years ago so it's not a learned trait)

apparently my anti-depressant crazy pills are exacerbating the condition. 

don't you love it when I'm TMI honest with you guys?

IMPORTANT UPDATE

Okay so I've been absent for a long long time.

My macbook needs a new harddrive but my ex says he should have it up and running tomorrow maybe the next day.  Then I can really get down to business explaining myself.

I moved!  At this moment in time I am living in a house with the following:

Gay Dude A

Gay Dude B

Gay Dude B's boyfriend (okay he doesn't live there but might as well)

Lesbian

Lesbian's gay male nurse friend from Chicago

2 "sturdy" lesbians from australia

4 cats.

Hilarity WILL ensue.  Mark my words.

I'll be back.

Shut that fuss. Everybody move to the back of the bus

Every month when I get my Muni fast pass I get so excited to see what the new colors are for that month.  I haven't seen July yet so no one tell me.  If they are ugly colors I get a bad feeling about the month.  Like February?  Light brown and dark brown?  Blech. 

John Kuzich, a local artist, is scooping up fast passes from wherever he can and turning them into some sort of epic art project.  The sneak peeks on his website are pretty exciting:

Here is a shot of one of the already completed panels:

The website says the following:

"While appearing very colorful and decorative, the underlying concerns behind the art are most significant. Fast Pass contains a psychological depth as it explores our shared human experience and our search for identity, meaning, purpose, and self fulfillment - as we navigate our busy day. It's about our need and attempts to create order and predictability in a chaotic life and deteriorating society. The art, like each of us, contains a rich and complex reality - behind the facade. The dimensional elements are a metaphor for Muni riders and their common, yet obscure inner realities. Fast Pass also hints at a unifying spiritual connection or oneness which we all share. Yet, to see this amazing and oppulent explosion of color and shapes - without these insights - the viewer might only guess as to what Fast Pass represents."

I really enjoy this description of the project.  I mean my first reaction to the idea was like "oh god this is going to be like those fucking cows they put all over Chicago or whatever" but he's totally write.  Except I think the outer reality of riding the bus is equally obscure as our inner realities.

I ride muni twice a day sometimes more.  I spend a lot of my time jiggling around on those things with strangers.  Some are smelly.  Some aren't.  Either way I have a few things to get off my chest:

An Open Letter to Muni Passengers:

Dear Muni Enthusiasts,

I know I am still somewhat new to this city so it may not be my place to speak so openly about the bus system we all use together.  Of all the things I am unsure of in my life I do know this: the universe does not want me to drive a car.  Justice demands it.  It would be irresponsible to the community.  I'd be happy to show you some of my outstanding parallel parking skills (they really are top notch, competitive level) but everyday driving?  no.  Because I have resigned to a life of nothing but public transit I want to share with you all some suggestions, concerns, and triumphs.  This is only one woman's humble opinion:

1. There are two lines to get onto a bus.  One to the left for fast pass holders, and one to the right for those who have to insert cash.  When I'm trying to scoot past you it's not because I'm cutting it's because I bought a fast pass so I wouldn't have to wait behind the lady digging quarters out of the bottom of her purse.

2. There are two kinds of back doors on Muni buses.  One opens when you touch the handlebars.  One opens when you step down.  Please make sure you are aware which type of door the bus has before you go carnival freak crazy and start yelling about being locked in.

3.  I lived in New Orleans so I know all too well about the siren song of Popeyes Chicken.  However, anything that smells that potently and CERTAINLY anything that comes with a variety of dipping sauces should not be consumed in your lap on the bus. 

4. If the bus has rows and rows of empty seats, please do not pick the one directly next to me.  I'm aware that I am adorable but I don't like being ass to ankles with strangers.

5. If someone has already rang the bell for the next stop and you also intend to get off at that stop, you do not need to ring the bell again.  The driver will already be stopping. 

6. If you're 16 and riding home from high school please do not speak so loudly and graphically about anal sex.  It's making us all feel weird.

7. The bus is not a great time to gab on the phone.  No one is interested in how many vodka crans you had last night.

8. If I sit in the senior/disabled section in the front do not glare at me.  I full intend to give up my seat if and when a senior/disabled person gets on the bus.

9. The bus is not the time to pull out your nail clippers and go to town on your feet.  I will have to murder you and your family.

10. If I can make out the actual lyrics of the music you are listening to, you are missing the point of headphones and need to turn it down for the sake of your ears if nothing else.

11. Everyone else doing it is not an excuse to enter the bus from the back door.  It's called fare jumping and when half of the people at the stop decide they are so special they should ride for free, the rest of us have to pay for it in increased fares, poor quality buses, fewer drivers, and fewer buses on the road.

12. Please do not use a youth fast past if you are clearly over the age of 25 much less 18.  The fight with the driver that ALWAYS ensues wastes everyone's time.  The full lumberjack beard didn't help your chances either.

13. We all know your pomeranian is not a service dog.  Just pay the fare for the dog so we can hit the road.

14. If you have a fat sack of skunk weed in your purse just know that your paranoia is well founded.  We CAN all smell it and we ARE all laughing at you.  Wrap that shit up tighter.

15. If you're a batshit insane war veteran and want to shock me by dropping a bomb of crazy all over me, it won't work.  Whatever psychotic rant you have in mind I guarantee I've already heard it.

16. Please don't force me to break down and act like a grown-up.  When I see you 14 year old girls writing all over the seats in sharpie in front of everyone and no one else will say anything I hate being the one to have to scold you for vandalizing.  But I will do it.  Even though you called me a bitch. 

17. Here are some things I have enjoyed on muni and would like to see more of:

17a. Political leaflets detailing how George Bush Sr. was the REAL John Lennon assassin. 

17b. Being given a voucher for a free session of accupuncture to increase my fertility (don't ask...long story)

17c. bus sing-a-longs

17d. full bus applause upon arriving at the end of the line

Thanks for your time Muni riders.  If I didn't hate nature so much I'd say we're saving the environment.  But I do so I won't

love,

L

WTF: Orange

image via The Superficial

This has gotten re-god-damn-diculous

If I looked in the mirror and this is what I saw I would FLIP OUT!  I mean wouldn't you feel really weird out in public?

The Roommate Hunt Continues: the longest post EVAR

When you're 24 years old and about 2400 miles away from home you get life lessons thrown at you around every turn.  Some lessons are harder to stomach than others.  For example, even if I dropped everything and devoted every second to practice, I could still never become a ballerina.  I've accepted that. 

This whole process of trying to find an apartment has been a time of intense introspection.

I'm not a performer!  But I am.  Everyone is.  I find myself strategizing based on the wording of the craigslist ad (CLad) Should I wear my low maintenance Leslie costume of jeans, black turtleneck and sneakers with minimal makeup and glasses?  Should I wear my high-energy hipster costume of a vintage dress and a cardigan with boots?  I can give you my super articulate smart mature scientist routine without uttering a single "um" or "like" or I can give you my energetic fun and joyful spiel punctuated with sarcastic wit and slang.  Do I show up seeming quiet and bookish?  Should I take a huge bong rip before I go or should I go at full speed and energy?  These are all things to consider!  I don't think it's being fake.  Maybe people are a sum of their parts.  It's just like setting your blender to puree instead of mix.

As always I've gone on way too long to set up what I wanted to tell you bitches about.  The apartment I saw last night and the subsequent life lesson:

I'm not the eccentric, quirky free spirit I thought I was.  subtitle: proof you can't completely escape your breeding.

So I went to another apartment viewing last night.  It was another one that I simply do not remember reading an CLad for.  Had I thoroughly read any CLad that described this apartment I would not have bothered to go.  It was just at such a great location.

The scene: HUGE top floor sunny apartment in lower Haight. 

The cast:

1. Leslie (Les)

2. A girl that arrived at the same time as me to the open house.  I smile and say "here to see the apartment?"  other than that I had never seen or spoken with this girl before in my life.  She appears to be circa 25, dressed in all black like it's maybe a job uniform, and is GORGEOUS.  Possibly Indian or middle eastern. (Girl in Black)

3. A woman I would guess is in her early 40s.  Petite, gap between front teeth, wearing a derby hat and a get up that is very Diane Keaton in Annie Hall.  (Hat Lady)

4. A young woman with brown hair circa 25 wearing yoga/spandex pants, tshirt, and headband/sweatband.  Eye makeup is smeared halfway down her face but she looks like she may have just been running or working out.  She seems totally normal (Normal Girl)

5. Tall gay dude with glasses (Glasses) appears to be in his 40s/late 30s

6. Gay dude in a hawaiian shirt.  Salt and pepper hair.  Probably in his 40s.  Different from other gay dude in that he is less of the high maintenance works out all the time type like Glasses.  We'll call him Hawaiian Shirt

Les and Girl in Black enter apartment at the same time.  Hat Lady says good-bye to a couple who is on their way out and rushes forward to great the newcomers.

Hat Lady: HELLO HELLO HELLO!  I'm **** it's nice to meet you! 

Les: Hi I'm Leslie

Girl in Black: I'm *** nice to meet you

Hat Lady: Well I'll give you guys the tour.  Right here to your left is the available room.  It's huge so it's perfect for a couple

Les: Oh we don't know each other we just showed up at the same time

Hat Lady: I hope you two like jazz because a few nights a week the restaurant your window faces has really loud live music. There's no closet but you get one half of the walk-in down the hall. Come on I'll show you the rest of the place. 

Here is just a closet we keep odd and ends [gesturing towards water heater] There is a magic little elf that lives in there that keeps the apartment running!  I'M JUST KIDDING!!!!!!!! [elbow nudges Les and Girl in Black several times and cackles maniacally]

Here is the only bathroom in the place.  I have no idea how they make it work but somehow they manage!  I've just added it up in my head and it doesn't seem to make sense!

Les: I'm sorry, do you live here?

Hat Lady: [blinks] yes who did you think I was?

Les: Oh I was just confused by the way you phrased that.  It sounded like you don't live here.

Hat Lady: [blinks; stares vacantly]

[after a long uncomfortable pause] So here's where Glasses and Hawaiian Shirt's rooms are.  You see they have a connected bedroom living room set up for themselves

Girl in Black: So this isn't a shared living room?

Hat Lady: Oh no no no we are very respectful of each other's space.  Glasses and Hawaiian Shirt pay for both rooms so the living room wouldn't be for you two

Girl in Black: Oh we're not together.  We just showed up at the same time.

[Les stares in frightened awe at the floor-to-ceiling 3-dimensional cylindrical shaped custom shelving structure that very carefully displays a collection of at LEAST 30 pairs of cowboy boots]

Hat Lady: I'll take you to meet the other roommates in the kitchen

[Les and Girl in Black walk into kitchen.  Hawaiian Shirt is sitting on the counter next to the sink.  Normal Girl is sitting on top of the stove.  Glasses is sitting at the kitchen table.  Glasses stands up to shake hands.  Everyone introduces themselves by name.]

Glasses: Okay so we really weren't looking for a couple but it's getting close to July 1st so we've thrown that out the window.  What I want to say right off the bat is NO PARTIES.  If you want to party then do it outside. 

Normal Girl: I mean having a few friends in your room or over for dinner is fine so long as it's quiet after 10pm.  Just common sense stuff really

Glasses: Normal Girl, please don't send mixed signals.  I want them to know they can't be throwing wild parties here all the time.

Les: Oh we're not together we just met on the way in

Glasses: whatever just don't bring the party in here.  It really needs to be quiet after 10 pm.  We have expensive things and we don't want your guests to walk off with them. 

Girl in Black: Um I work and go to school so I definitely don't do any partying.

Glasses: If you HAVE to party we have a nice area downstairs out back but you need to keep the noise level down back there as well.

Les: I work a lot and I'm new to San Francisco.  I don't know enough people to have a party.

Hawaiian shirt: We just want you and your partner to understand that this isn't a party house.  Jesus how old are you?

Les: 24

Glasses: Ugh, GOD

Les: um you guys called me

Glasses: I mean look if you two want to have some of your friends over for a small dinner party that's okay.  We don't want it to seem like we're that strict.  I just don't want weird people over here all the time.  We have expensive things in our room

[Les thinks back to cowboy boot collection]

Hat Lady: Oh don't listen to them.  Have people over all you want just be respectful. 

Normal Girl: Everyone quit scaring them.  We're really not that uptight I swear

Hat Lady: We have a washer/dryer out back did anyone show you that yet?

Les: Nope you were giving the tour...

Glasses: [way louder than necessary] yeah its FUCKING QUARTER OPERATED THOUGH.

Hat Lady: I'm going to go down there I'll be right back [Hat Lady dashes out of back kitchen door]

Glasses: Oh my god I hate her

Girl in Black and Les [uncomfortably] Hahahahahahahahaha....

Glasses, Hawaiian Shirt, Normal Girl: [blink.....blink....vacant looks....silence]

Normal Girl: Yeah sometimes the washer/dryer breaks but there are like three laundromats on the block but we can't go to one of them after being kicked out [looks annoyed towards Glasses]

Les: How do you get kicked out of a laundromat?

Normal Girl: Oh there was this really high guy there throwing powdered laundry detergent and then there was a fight blah blah blah

Glasses: [with serious emphasis] I hate high people at the laundromat

Normal Girl: So when would you two be able to move in.  Are you living together right now?

Les: I don't know her.

Hawaiian shirt: SUDDEN DEATH QUESTIONS! You, [points at Girl in Black] How do you feel about partying?

Girl in Black: Uhhh I don't have time to party

Hawaiian Shirt: Oh good phew!

Glasses: DAMNIT, now the other one knows the answer we're looking for!

Les: Oh I mean I got a sense of the rules but I like I said it's a non-issue for me really

Glasses: Look we just think that if you two do a lot of partying we prefer you to do it out there and not in here.

Les: [exasperated] I understand.

[Hat Lady returns]

Hat Lady: DID ANYONE TELL THEM ABOUT HOW THERE'S NO CLOSET?

Hawaiian Shirt: Look we're nice, respectful roommates and are just looking for the same and we just want to make sure we find someone similar to pay rent on time.  We all like to have a good time but we just want to keep the party out of here.  You two seems like really serious hard working partners.  You know there is more in life!  Relax, ladies!

Glasses: NO PARTIES!!

Hat Lady: sorry I was gone someone catch me up.  Seriously if you want to have a small party in your room that's totally fine.  One of you would just need to let the rest of the house know ahead of time.  Do you guys have any questions for us?

Les: I can only speak for myself but I think I have a pretty good idea of the rules here.  I'll get out of your way.  Thanks for showing me the apartment.

Glasses: Oh my gosh you make us sound so stern!  They aren't "rules"!!!

Les: Okay well thank you!  Nice to meet you all!

[Les exists the room.  Talking in kitchen continues]

Normal Girl: Oh my god did they not come here together?

End Scene

If you are still reading this let me just tell you that I did not embellish that.  I filled in where I couldn't remember exact orders of things and quotes but while it was happening I was thinking the entire time "Oh man this is going on the blog"  Turns out everything I thought I knew about diverse living in San Francisco flew out the window.  This.  This I just cannot do.

I always liked to think of myself as open minded, eccentric, and accepting of quirks.  I always thought that despite my southern pedigree I was way more Hunter S. Thompson than Doris Duke.  I mean I'm the only one in my family that doesn't say "oriental" when referring to asian people and I'm not terrified by Obama's ambiguous muslim heritage.  I didn't join a sorority in the fear that I was missing out on something and a 2 carat diamond ring is not my most important goal before the age of 25.  And that is nothing to sneeze at considering I am a product of the same societal incest (not familial incest...nashville is not in west virginia) and private conservative schooling that produced this disaster:

Dress: $350

Hat: $150

bucket: $8.99

gin: $30

tailgating: $150 (a guess)

Getting black out drunk before 2 pm and not watching a single second of the horse race the animals have to pay for with their bodies: Priceless

Devotees to this blog will remember me discussing the Silver Sage Mafia. For you I offer up the following gem:

 

because why have 5 bridesmaids when you can have 11.

*******IMPORTANT**********

G & N,

If for any reason you ever stumble across this blog entry which is highly highly unlikely, I am REALLY sorry for taking pictures from your facebook profiles and using them here to make fun of you. It's really not personal I was just trying to illustrate a point. I've always thought you were both sweet girls even though I haven't seen either of you since high school graduation and I know this is a real asshole move so I pray you never see it. I've redacted all the faces so I hope I'm covered. Sorry for being a huge bitch.