There’s this strange thing occurring in my yard. Every day I go out there to drop ET off for his dinner of grass and weeds, and it seems every time I go outside there is a new clump of what I can only describe as fluff has appeared. These are disturbing white fuzzies, like the innards of some stuffed animal were ripped out every night and strewn across my yard. Where the hell is it all coming from?
See! What the fuck is that? Why does it keep appearing? Am I supposed to actually touch it? Why can’t it melt in the rain like cotton-candy pubes? Sigh.
On Monday, I finally got my car in to the shop to be fixed from when that asshole hit me back at the beginning of April. When I dropped it off, the guy said he’d call me with an estimate, and I said, “Don’t bother, I’m not paying for it!” How often does one get to be cavalier about such things?
The rental courtesy driver was so cute and dreamy, but I was too tired to flirt with him, but he seemed to manage on his own without my involvement. It was a nice Monday-morning pick-me-up at least. I’m driving around in a fancy Nissan Altima, and I say fancy because my Prius just doesn’t move like this car does. It has a nice stereo system, too, which I am abusing with a compilation Wikus made me years ago, that is full of a lot of screamy punk music (and really, a bit of everything because he likes to mix it up like that).
If you look closely, you’ll see that is a punk-rock George W. Bush with some dildos on his head. That’s how you know you’re in for an excellent-listening experience (sample selection: Proud Scum, Men’s Recovery Project, GISM, Showcase Showdown, Hickey, Pere Ubu, Leftover Crack, Cock Sparrer, Jimmie Rodgers, Asta Kask, Hard Skin, The Mobs, Young Marble Giants, Television Personalities). My car’s stereo system is crap, and I started the year hoping I’d get a new one for my birthday, but it seems that is not possible when you break up with the one person who could have made that happen. Curses!
I’m not sure when my car will be done, but as much as I like this car, I’d prefer to return it tomorrow, because I hate the responsibility of driving a car that isn’t mine. Especially since it is all misty and slick outside, which is a very bad time to be driving in Austin. Rain confuses the natives. They want it so desperately, but then practically kill themselves every time they step out in to it. Dumbasses.
The blessed celebration of my birth happened this week, and it was very pleasant in a low-key sort of way. A lot of candy and Doctor Who during the day, and a small gathering of friends at a pizza place down the road from my new place. It’s always nice to have an excuse to hang out with some really good people on a Tuesday night. The night didn’t end with birthday bootie, but I have no complaints about what I did get (like crocheted jellyfish and conch shell, art from Blue made up of Flannery O’Connor quotes, maybe a kiss or two, and that bite on my nipple from Guamaniac…I’m obviously well loved).
Tonight I’m headed over to Cowhide’s where she is treating me to some of my favorite foods that she makes (pasta with lemon-infused olive oil, asparagus, cherry lambic and peach buckle), watch Shameless, and catch up on at least a month’s worth of things. Will I even be going to bed tonight? Who knows. I love being with this lady. She knows exactly how to make me feel good, and she often does it without even using my birthday as an excuse.
And I get to snuggle in the Tauntaun sleeping bag. It’s completely understandable to be jealous of me.
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