Effluvia

Would you believe there's another journal-type person in the house this evening? It's true! And this person is a big BTE fan, too. We're happy to have this person with us this evening. We're going to party like rock stars.




Journals






Siobhanorama!

Siobhan is playin' the ho's, 'cuz she's a pimp an' a playa.




The Coworkers
Ain't Cool Dep't.

The penis-shaped squirt gun was the talk of the office for the last two days.




One Year Ago
Mice. Embalmers.

Two Years Ago
My brother comes to town. Jessie's Girl.

12/15/2000
Christmas Party

So I joined this little group, okay? This guy put an ad in the Gambit Weekly, looking for people interested in getting together once a month, drinking and discussing good books. I sent him an e-mail. I made the cut. Our first meeting was Tuesday night.

We met in the bar at the Columns Hotel, a small but aggressively elegant hotel on St. Charles, not far from my house. It was a good group: young, hip (but not hipsters) and intelligent. The guy who placed the ad had gotten something like twenty-five responses; he picked six out of all of those.

"We're all roughly the same age," he said, "and your e-mails had...something. A certain quality."

We were all quite flattered and pleased to be so chosen.

It was a pleasant evening, if a bit awkward with seven strangers making conversation and all. I thought we got through it quite well, though. Next month we'll get together to discuss 100 Years of Solitude. I'm excited about it.

I hope they didn't think I was an ass. Around new people I can be painfully shy or embarassingly outgoing. I tried to sip slowly at my drink and not be socially weird. I haven't got an e-mail revoking my membership yet, but perhaps I should assume I'm on probation until further notice.




Did you watch the speech-o-rama last night?

Nuts and bolts
Nuts and bolts
Gore
Got
Screwed!

"Ladies and gentleman, allow me to introduce the imbecile-in-chief."

Like Dan Savage, though, I assure you I will show Dubya all the civility and respect that the Rupublicans have shown Bill Clinton over the last eight years.




The office Christmas party was held yesterday at a bar down the street. It was actually quite fun: decent food, free beer, a pool tournament and a wacky gift exchange. The highlight of the evening? A penis-shaped water gun. Some chick ran around squirting everyone with it. Hilarious, I assure you.




I called my family last night to check on them. When I talked to my mom their power was out and the entire city was covered with ice.

"Well, it's seventy-five degrees here, and kind of muggy," I told her, "call me if you want me to watch the news for you or something."

Weird weather over the last few days in New Orleans. Tuesday night it was windy and cold. Yesterday started out cool, but by sunset it was hot and muggy. I wore a t-shirt and shorts when I walked the dog last night. Sweet! Then it rained really hard and it got cold again. Today is clear and cool.

But I'll take all that any day before ice and snow and wind chills. Yuck. 'Cause when I say "cold" in reference to New Orleans weather I mean "warm spring day in Minneapolis." Just so you know.




I slept like shit last night. I was either too hot, or too cold, or the dog was laying in such a way that if I moved I'd push her off the bed (which is pitiful when it happens), or Sonya would be draped over me like a warm, curvy, gently-snoring octopus, or my head would be jammed up against the headboard...I swear I woke up every few hours and looked at the clock.

I think the problem is that I took no drugs last night. Here lately it's been either Nyquil or Robitussin before bed, and I had neither last night. The Robitussin has given me the most vivid dreams, too. Unfortunately the Robitussin is gone. I'll take a few hits off the Nyquil tonight, I guess. Or I'll have some heroin. Whatever.




All that was written yesterday. Now it's Friday and I'm going to see Better Than Ezra. I rock.




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