Maybe it's because tomorrow is Michael Tolliver Day in San Francisco, or maybe because Ms. Feisty just posted about her trip or Tomate posted about the Haight Street Fair, but I got me a real hankerin' to head to the city by the bay. I want to sit on a corner outside a café and wait for the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence to roll by. I want to climb around Telegraph Hill and meet all the local cats and get glimpses of the Bay Bridge through the windows of houses along Napier Lane. I want to sit on the BART from downtown to Berkeley with Tamara and laugh until I cry as two drag queens trash talk.
But it's going to have to wait until next year. Until then, I'll read MTL (where's my copy, Amazon?!?!) (I'm going to have to do with this excerpt but what the hell, BRIAN IS 61??? BRIAN??? How can that BE???) and try to decide whether I should ask the tattoo artist Ms. Feisty found for us to do Elvis as I'd originally planned, or maybe a dragonfly on my ankle, if Elvis is going to take too long.
Why Rescue Me is the best show on TV:
Hot diggity dog, I truly love these guys. Only 2 more days until Tommy's back. Looks like he escaped the fire unscathed. Huzzah! Of course, it'll only be 10 seconds until he gets himself into more trouble. How this guy makes it out of anything alive is beyond me.
From the "Kids, don't try this at home" department: was feeling a little under the weather Friday, cold kinda thing. Meeting room perked me up because, with the big-ass crystal chandelier and gold cherubs on the ceiling, I could forget I was in a meeting. Long day, and on the way home I had a real fang for Vanilla Coke, first time I'd wanted it in about a year, so I stopped at the supermarket. No Vanilla, so I went for Cherry. Long meeting, too tired to cook, I grabbed something quick and starchy. Mistake #1. As the Hashimoto's has progressed, so has my intolerance to carbs--manifests itself in lethargy and joint pain the next day. Saturday morning, I could barely move. Didn't get out of bed until 12 and my shoulders/biceps were so painful that I climbed back under the covers and watched more West Wing. (Question to the writers: why the hell is Will always in the WW when he works for the VP? And why is he such a PITA? I've gone from being "eh" about this character to actively cursing whenever he turns up. Enough!)
About 3, I was feeling better. So what did I do? Yep, polished off the Cherry Coke. There went Sunday. Seriously. I can't do sugar anymore. The good thing is that pants that were once capris are now down to my ankles. The bad thing is I hate all the chemicals in Diet Coke, so that's out, too. Of course, I could just do a little Cherry or Vanilla, not a whole bottle, but no, that's not my way. Guess I'll just have to get lime Perrier. Somehow not the same!
What else? I know there was something. Oh yeah. This is funny:
And this (by Susan Branch) is sweet:
She forgot "Get an iPhone," but that's okay, I already had that one figured out. Can't wait to get mine, though I'll probably do just that and go for a second generation--unless the excitement gets too much for me, as it always does with Apple. I paid an extra $50 for my first iMac because my local place didn't have lime, I'd have to wait a week and I COULDN'T, so I went to the other side of town where I could get one and took a taxi home. $50 well spent, I did love that little green machine. Had a "discussion" with someone today still under the mistaken impression that Mac to PC file transfer is difficult. Couldn't convince them that I'd been doing it since 1992, the only hassles were on the PC side, Mac could read and recognize everything because Word for Mac had been around for years even then (since '85) although I used MacWritePro back then, a sweet, sweet little program that made MS pick up their act. Oh well, their loss!
Gotta go 1. transcribe today's writing; 2. watch some more West Wing; 3. stop Kody from trashing the bathroom. Losing battle, I tell ya. He's in the bathtub (no water, though I'm often tempted) playing with a straw and I have the feeling he's just about to attack the shower curtain.
My thrilling life.