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Category Archives: Diaryland

Ain’t it cool to sound like an idiot?

I just want to make one thing clear right now. I absolutely hate it when people say “ain’t”. I have other verbal pet peeves too, like when people say “irregardless” or “orientated” or start C words with K’s just to be cute (not kute) or pronounce “nuclear” as “nucular”. But “ain’t” is right up there […]

The Great Jam Caper

Thank you to whomever nominated and voted for this diary and the entries in this quarter’s Diarist awards. I can’t tell you how honored I was to be nominated and selected to be a finalist and to be a vehicle for Chauffi‘s guest entry. And now being voted in thrice was something I never imagined, […]

The boots do not need a prop

My thigh bruise is healing quite nicely. Esteban freaked out when he saw it. I explained that I was crawling into the backseat of a Saab with my non-Swedish ass and it was like being born and somehow one of the strange Swedish knobs pierced me in a non-attractive place, but then I later mused […]

Oh the places you’ll go

Too much’ too much’ can’t write a narrative, so instead bullets to put me out of my misery. I’ve already alluded to a Night of Wacky Fun with Jen, Chauffi, and Mopie in the previous entry, but here’s more: We went to eat at the Stinking Rose, which is named for garlic and not some […]

Baby I’m ready to go

Wow. I’m tired, y’all. Apparently when I am tired, I go all Southern. I should be whoring around with my first cousin any day now. I think I got three hours of sleep last night because my body is still rigidly attached to the idea of getting up in time to milk cows. Forget the […]

The Weetabitinerary

Just a quick update before I go… I am so completely certain that I have forgotten to pack something crucial. Oh, and I have a sneaking suspicion that The Uterus wants to play in San Francisco too. There is a decidedly crampy feeling about my person. Oh well. I refuse to think about it. I […]

An uncomfortable visit to the doctor that didn’t involve specula

Today is Day 40 of Throat of Death. I’m beginning to forget what my real voice sounds like, since I just sound all demony, but not in a cool Nine Inch Nails way, more like a 70-year-old waitress at a truck stop with a Marlboro dangling from the lipstick outline on her pruney lips kind […]

The Stereotypical Me entry

Somewhere along the way, I became that girl. That girl. You know. That one. I’m the girl whose windshield wipers break and then when she fixes them, she runs out of windshield washer fluid on the way to work. And then she switches to a rental car for a business trip and it’s out of […]

Oh no he di’int!

If you were in my house right now, you’d see me sitting in front of the computer, working on the next entry of Quoted and trying to stifle my giggles as Esteban does dishes, wearing headphones and singing “Die muthafuckas die muthafuckas” from the Office Space soundtrack, sounding like the most caucasian man on the […]

It’s such a good feeling, a very good feeling

My Evil Throat Of Death continues to plague me. I’m all snuffy and my voice has slowly gone from sounding Kathleen Turnerish to the realm of Henry Kissinger. Tres sexy, non? So I went to the Doctor on Wednesday. Dr. Perky never works on Wednesday so I got to see her backup guy. I don’t […]

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