Thursday, October 23, 2008

Oh No, Must Be the Season of the Cinnamon Broom

Today's musings over the microwave minestrone...

Our Mad Man friend wrote a while back about an odd encounter with a tall, bony blonde in a grocery store. She helped him find a can of chicken broth, inquired solicitously about his health, and then, when he told her he was buying it for his fiance, who was making a special dinner, said he was a lucky guy. It was Ann Coulter. Doesn't that sound like one of those weird dreams you'd tell your shrink about? But it was real.

Latest Pew says 60 percent of women don't like Sarah Palin; the right says that's because we're just jealous that she's so pretty. Hon, that's the only thing about her I can stand. You know, in a bar, maybe, with the music too loud to hear her talk, well...I might sidle up. But $150,000 for clothes? Girlfriend is buying the drinks.

Full disclosure: I'm thinking my hair/makeup/clothing budget probably hits a grand, and that's including running stuff. I hardly ever wear makeup, but I'm so phobic I throw out all the (cheap organic) stuff every three months and replace it anyway. Most of it's the haircolor and waxing, which I pay an arm and a leg and an ass for. But it's worth it--the woman who does it, besides being really good at her job, is a former French literature scholar who left Iran and has lived all over the world, and she always has such interesting things to say. I thought Sarah P.'s highlighting job looked a little skunky under the debate lights. I really should find a way to get that number down from a grand. It's unsustainable.

I know I'm kind of tiresome with my constant foisting of astrologer Eric Francis on people, but he reran this piece that took me right back to Miami in hurricane season. A bare hotel room, a perfect stranger, a mirror, candles, a trance CD playing over and over, power down and a wind right out of Cuba slinging rain at the windows. Book me for that one.

Instead, I'm on the couch wrapped in a blanket, watching Countdown. And, goddess forgive me, House. Jesus. My TV consumption shot up to almost four hours this week. I'm a little under the weather. Bored. Microwaved.

And then there's the other side of Miami: An old friend formerly from there won a cooking contest with a recipe for "Pig-Wrapped, Pig-Stuffed Pig." He's a really, really good cook. And the video's pretty funny.

[I know, you're thinking lipstick joke, but jesus if you say it I'll virtually stab you with a pen, the way my Hot Friend E did a lawyer in her office the other day, because he wasn't listening. And he just shook it off and kept on talking.]

Photo: Muse Erato, from the muses sarcophagi in the Louvre, public domain.

3 comments:

Allison said...

I think you're writings are fascinating. Please keep up the posting!

Allison said...

(or as more commonly known, your.)

Maria Padhila said...

you are too sweet. And I'm disillusioned--always picture you in more interesting places than in front of a computer. That doesn't sound right, but you know what I mean.