Desires

1.

If I had to pick any Biblical dude to get behind, I’d definitely get behind the Preacher, who knows human nature better than just about anyone. As he says, there is nothing new under the sun, and so this post will be another assortment of different stuff, as usual.

He also says that vanity of vanities, all is vanity, and so I spent a good chunk of time today googling “tiny cat pants” (oh, stop, like you’ve never googled yourself to see how easy you’d be to find) to see if anyone was linking to me that I ought to be linking to. If you look to your right, you’ll see the fruits of my search, as I’ve added more folks over there.

Not all of them have linked to me, but, of course, now they should.

Ha, I tickle myself.

2.

As you all know, Dan Abrams is my TV boyfriend–smart, cute, smirky–what’s not to love? Yes, occasionally, he doesn’t love the constitution as much as he should, but, if he were sleeping in my bed, we could stay up late into the night arguing about which was the best amendment. I think y’all know which one I love best.

But today I was thinking about my TV girlfriend, Jackie Guerra. God, I love her. In fact, though I am ashamed to admit it, I must tell you that I try to time the dog’s walk in Percy Warner Park to conclude with enough time for us to run any errands that need to be run, grab some lunch, and be sitting on the couch in time for “Jewelry Making” on the DIY network, which is hosted by my darling, Jackie Guerra, and is on at 3 on both Saturday and Sunday.

Do I give a rat’s ass about jewelry making? No. But I watch for Jackie. She’s this magnificent, confident woman who’s cute as all get-out. I love to watch her tease the guests she likes, and make weird faces at the guests she doesn’t. It’s corny. If you watch, you’ll lose all respect for me, but I don’t even care. She’s so dreamy.

3.

After Jackie, there’s this fragile little spunky thing who has a show, “Knitty Gritty,” which I also watch religiously, but this is because I want so much to learn to knit.

I can crochet and I make fabulous gaudy eccentric afghans whenever I can, because it relaxes me after work.

But the truth is that there’s not much more than making afghans I really care to learn to do with a crochet needle. I want to make sweaters, with cables, and shawls and cute socks. I want to know the difference between knit and pearl and I want to learn to cast off.

The minute I get some extra money, I’m going to get a pair of needles and a good book and get on it.

Stretching Republicans

The Libertarian called me on my birthday, which was very nice, and I got to talk to his son, who felt it was very important to tell me that he was watching Star Wars on TV. I was bowled over at how well he speaks, considering that he’s not quite three and English is his second language.

America, I could live an amused life if your three year olds called me regularly.

And yesterday, I had lunch at the Mediterranean restaurant, which, I think, is just called “Mediterranean Cuisine.” It’s the one on 21st above Cheeseburger Charley’s. I love their food and would eat their shawarma pockets every day, if I could. That is beside the point. The point is that when I was done eating, I saw a very small girl spot her mother from across the way and she was so excited that she threw her hands up over her head and danced around.

So, America, let your 20-month-olds dance around all they want; that also makes me happy.

One of the reasons the Libertarian called me was to ask what I got out of going to the college that we did. Aside from him and the Shill and the Super Genius?

I didn’t have an answer for him.

But this morning, when I was out with the dog, I was thinking about the social dance class I took, and how this stiff Republican from my Russian class was always my partner, even though I was a pinko liberal. I don’t know why he always picked me, but I think it’s because he knew I didn’t give a shit how awkward he was and we were roughly the same height.

But one of the best days of dance class was when we didn’t dance at all, but spent the hour and a half stretching and one of the stretches we did was where we sat back to back with our partners and one person would push as hard on the other person as she could so that the pusher’s butt came off the ground and she was laying on the back of the stretcher so that he was pushed farther down between his opened legs than he normally could get.

Anyway, I wanted him to do me first and he would not pick his butt up off the ground, because he didn’t “want to hurt me.” and I was like, “Dude, you can’t hurt me, I promise. Just do it.” So, finally, he put all his weight on me and I was like, “Hurray” and when I did it to him, he said “Wow, that is really nice.”

I think there’s a lesson in there that was worth four years. I should have told that story to the Libertarian.