I headed out to the market early this morning because I had plans at 10:30. The place was crazy crowded anyway! The cool morning temperatures probably helped, though by the time I left the sun had come out and it was starting to get humid.

Today I went with a list. It looked like this:
fish
chicken
1 lb ground beef
fruit
cucumbers
cherry tomatoes
greens
2 ears corn

Here's what I actually got:
- fish (mmm grouper)
- chicken (whole)
- 1 lb ground beef (grass fed and grain finished. If I ever get the energy up to try a different market I hope to find 100% grass fed beef)
- blueberries (there was a severe shortage of stone fruit for it being peach season)
- cucumbers
- cherry tomatoes
- swiss chard
- 2 ears of corn
- three little green bell peppers
- a bag of white grits
- a slice of pound cake (for breakfast) and a slice of lemon blueberry meringue pie for Chris
- a loaf of multi-grain bread

So I got everything on my list and then some, but I didn't do too badly considering the great bounty of items spread before me. I also spent almost my entire budget this morning (I continue to blame the fish).

Then I went for a 2 hour bike ride and almost died of wheeziness and exhaustion.

Happy Saturday!

( You are about to view content that may not be appropriate for minors. )

( You are about to view content that may not be appropriate for minors. )

( You are about to view content that may not be appropriate for minors. )

Oh and also this:

http://www.advocate.com/exclusive_detail_ektid97136.asp

It's my latest Advocate.com TV column. This week I get real deep into real human truths about "NYC PREP" AND "MIAMI SOCIAL" Y'ALL!

And regarding my title of this post: I am coming to New York the last week of July for a book launch. A book I'm in. So while I don't want any actual customized trail mix, I do want delicious treats. Begin pointing me in their direction now, please. More details about this trip later...

*moroccomole has this thing where he wants me to actually accompany him out to events. This conflicts with my own disinterest in going to these events. So occasionally we compromise and I go with him. Last night we went to the opening night of Outfest, which is the Los Angeles queer film festival. He was one of the film programmers this year so his job is to go to the opening night and closing night and the parties and to introduce screenings and whatnot.

So I went. But it was noisy and I couldn't ever really hear what anyone was saying to me because big crowd sounds are sufficient enough to make me deaf. Normal voice decibels are just drowned out. So I nod and go "Oh, hey, it is so good to see you again" and then I just look around and notice things like how insane the light sconces and giant chandeliers are at the Orpheum Theater. And complain about the seats in the balcony, which were designed when people were not so large. And I'm not even talking about fatness. I mean they had shorter legs. And smaller thighs and butts. Those seats must have fit someone back then. Just not me, not now.

One good thing about giant crowds: If you have to fart you can do it and nobody will know it was you. You can just make a face like, "Eww, who did that?" and walk away. Not that I did that. I'm too polite.

Other topic: I had my first appointment with the new therapist to help me get over my fear of flying. If you're new to reading this journal, I am terrified to fly. I do it but I freak out hard and need drugs to get through it. I went to a therapist for this in 2002, then to a horrible phobia group that didn't help me. Then I decided to tough it out for the next seven years. But MM made me promise I'd go back to try to deal with it again.

I found a good guy. His office is in my neighborhood so I can just walk there. He's all quiet and gentle like therapists are. You sit on the couch and bark out your anxieties and they just nod and then softly tell you shit you don't want to hear. Shit like, "You have to decide that you're going to be a different person regarding your fear of flying. No one can take that step for you. You have to be the one to start this in your own mind. You could very well die in a plane crash. Or in a car accident. Or by falling down the stairs. Or by having a heart attack. Short of taking your own life or learning that you have exactly five months to live from a brain tumor, you don't get to control when you're going to die. But you will die. And part of getting over this fear is coming to accept that fact. See you next Wednesday."

So I'll see him next Wednesday.

First I didn't know the new Falco book had come out, today I find out that the season 3 Venture Bros. is out on DVD. What next? I find out they've already started showing Lost?

Our dish company has added Cartoon Network for the west coast to our roster, so if I were a really bad mother, I could watch Venture Bros. at 8am certain weekdays. But I get a little antsy about the Zweeble watching Johnny Test, so ... yeah.

Off to Netflix ... I've currently got Angels in America, which I'm sure is the perfect lead-in for Brock Samson and company.

Oh, and did I mention we watched Repo! The Genetic Opera? Put Sweeney Todd, Les Miz, and Moulin Rouge in a blender, add some extra guts, and there you have it. There were some really great moments in it, but also some not great at all moments. I thought Paris Hilton was surprisingly good in it, though her dancing was a bit weak. And the little girl from the Spy Kids movies was the lead!

Tags: books, music, pop culture owns my soul

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( You are about to view content that may not be appropriate for minors. )

Multitasking is not a good idea.

Because when I pick up the phone and say "Hello?" I do expect you to take a minute, and probably another "Hello" from me before you respond. I find it annoying, but then, I find telephone solicitors annoying, and this is one of the reasons why.

I do not, however, expect to hear you say, "Thanks, 'bye," to someone else, followed by scrabbling noises and, in response to my third, now very annoyed, "Hello," to be told "Hang on."

I'm sorry, hang on? You called me, you dumbass, and I don't know who you are! If my husband called, he could do that sort of thing--he's my husband, I know him, he gets some slack. You aren't anyone I actually want to talk to, you get no slack!

So I said, "No, I won't, you called me, and I don't know you," and I hung up.

(You're asking why I picked up in the first place, aren't you? It's because the last one of these was from Newt Gingrich's people, and I take an absurd amount of joy from telling them I'm a Democrat.)

Tags: as political as i'm gonna get, really? seriously? really?, too much buttons