Sometimes I wish dreams were real

From an email I recently wrote:

My finger is very far from the pulse of culture. Like, maybe I’m poking culture’s side. Sorry, culture, I didn’t know you were ticklish there.

So I feel it necessary to share this dream I had last night. I was about to preform at a church that had been converted into a theater. The audience was full of drag queens and children. My fellow flamencas were getting ready in the back. We were all wearing different costumes, but we were all in red. I was applying and wiping off lipstick with strange regularity. We were about to go on, when I realized I had forgotten both my cane* and my shoes. Both of which are a bit important. I told my teacher that I didn’t live far, and that I’d run home and get them. When I got back (the dream seemed to skip over that part), they had started without me, which was a little disappointing.

Who knew drag queens were so into Flamenco?

* Our latest choreography involves canes and if we pull it off it will be AWESOME. Details soon.

I can’t even remember the dude’s name right now, it’s so hot

Me: I can’t believe it’s 96 degrees in San Mateo. I think I’m melting. For the first time ever, I’m glad my apartment is always too cold
Jesse: That sounds nice
Me: Wait, what was the name of Jessica Simpson’s former husband’s band? 98 degrees? 89? 94
Jesse: I totally can’t remember. And I am pleased
Me: Hm, now that you mention it, so am I
Jesse: Let’s leave it that way.

And so it was.

Dress Quest 08: Attempt 0.5, 1.0

With the hot weather approaching (wait, here), I’ve been thinking a lot about dresses. I’m finally starting to get the swing of my style, but I only own two dresses, one of which is pretty formal, and the other is definitely winter wear. So I’m mostly at a loss when it comes to dresses.

I’ve noticed lately that some lovely ladies have found some cute things at Target, and since I do love the Target, I headed on over. Monday I went to the Foster City store, which is extremely lacking in the clothing department. There were maybe 10 dresses in the whole store, and they were ugly and not my size.

Today I headed over to the the Daly City store (of Twin Targets fame), which has a much larger selection. Sadly, though, it was not meant to be. I tried on a bunch of skirts that made me look house-like.
I tried on a dress that made me look like both an angry lesbian AND a bored housewife. And a lot of dresses that would be excellent if I were just a smidge smaller on the bottom or a smidge bigger on the top. This is reminding me why I don’t own any dresses.

The second time I walked into the dressing room, there was an odd smell that took me a while to place. I think it was some cheap weed! Plus, there were two women in the area who kept getting more giggly and loud. Nestled between them and a girl on the phone, arguing with her boyfriend about where to meet up in an hour, I was trying on dresses and laughing at both how ridiculous I looked, and how ridiculous the situation was.

So what is my style? Simple, nerdy, clean. I don’t wear a lot of patterns, I don’t wear a lot of clingy stuff. I’m hoping to spend less than $50. HELP!

Special hello to kfan! I’m amazed I’m an inspiration. Oddly enough, I am planning on making June lacking a material good instead of a food as well.

On sedation

A few days ago, I was singing “I wanna be sedated” by the Ramones under my breath, and my charming boyfriend asked me if I had just said, “I wanna eat a baby.”

And thus, new lyrics were born. I’ll never hear it the same way again.

The downside of denying yourself

Readers, I think we have a problem.

You may not have known, but during the no-fried objects month, I also gave up bacon. This was a mighty sacrifice, as I do love me some bacon. But I’ve found, in the last two weeks, that the two times I’ve had bacon has made me feel ill. Who knows: maybe it was the bacon I had at home that was somehow tainted, but the boyfriend also ate it and felt fine. Other suspects may be the new coffee procured at PhilZ, or that I’m just crazy. But I spent a portion of Mother’s Day apologizing to my mother and rushing off to the ladies, is all I’m saying.

Bacon, how could you have forsaken me?!?

I am officially an employee here

My garbage and recycling cans arrived yesterday. Huzzah.

On personal policies

I think most personal policies are things we don’t actively think about. They’re so ingrained in our personalities that we just live them unconsciously. But some are conscious: I enjoy telling people when I dream about them, and will tell the story of the dream when I remember it. Of course, a few months ago I ran into a snag; what happens when you dream about a person who hurt you? What if you dream about that person’s girlfriend?

Yeah, I had to add an addendum to that one.

What personal policies do you have? Which did you have to amend? Give up?

Possibly the best thing that’s ever happened in my house

Via Nomi:
This proves that if you get a bunch of college educated women together in a house with alcohol and the right incentive, they may spontaneously turn into fourth graders.

I’m very frustrated that I can’t embed Flickr video straight into my blog. Click the link in the picture and watch the fun!

The only place you can turn left on Market

Okay, THIS is pretty fun. Well, once I got my car moving. For some reason, if you type in “San Francisco,” they start you at the Hall of Justice, and it’s not obvious how to drive out of it.  I’ve been driving my tiny fake car all over the city. And because I am a dork, I am enjoying going the wrong way on one way streets.

I hope they got their Sunchips

I headed over to try the Greek place here in Foster City today. Walking through the parking lot, I saw three ducks hanging out in front of Phil’s Liquors. They were kind of milling around the way teenagers do when they want you to buy liquor for them. I considered taking a picture, but my belly was protesting and demanding gyros, so I walked on, reminding myself to snap them on my way back to the car.

Of course, they were gone by the time I walked by again, replaced by happy children with Push Pops. Another fantastic photographic opportunity missed.

I spend a lot of time nowadays purposely NOT thinking about my cat.