grrgoyl: (american ferrets)
I've grown tired of the CDs in my car, but am too lazy to replace them, so last night on my drive into work I was cruising for some talk radio. Air America seems to have vanished from the dial, or maybe at night they convert to a Hispanic infomercial. So it was that I found myself on a right-wing talk show. I decided to give it a try, in the spirit of fairness and hearing both sides of an argument.

The topic was abortion, not surprisingly. I swear, if not for abortion and gay marriage, no one would give these people the time of day, based on how poorly they handle everything else not related to these 2 issues. The host was urging the "values voters" to get out to the polls this November, using typical party fear tactics to emphasize the dire urgency of doing so. Because if the "anti-lifers" prevail, they will "impose their agenda" on the rest of the country. Well, yes, that is the main reason anyone runs for election, however, he was making it sound like abortion would become mandatory across the board for everyone. Because the pro-choice movement is obviously all about eliminating the human race entirely (in reality, that's what I'M all about. Fortunately for everyone I'm too lazy to form any useful plan to do so. Consider THAT the next time you look down your nose at my DVD collection).

They repeatedly and snidely denounced the existence of "post-abortion stress syndrome" as a legitimate complaint. (I've never had an abortion, however I can imagine for most women there is a good deal of stress involved as well as emotional trauma, and probably a lot of it due to these people and the ways they make it more and more difficult each day to obtain one legally (because there's nothing at all wrong with imposing THEIR agenda). Besides, I would think some sort of medical traumatic syndrome related to abortion would help their cause, no? I guess I'll never understand the right-wing mind.) He went on to claim that some pro-choice legislators said that, if their laws pass, it would become illegal for pro-life views to even be discussed. How exactly would THAT happen? Last I checked it was W. that wanted to change the Constitution, not the Left. It was right about then that I could choke down my outraged bile no further and I was forced to change the channel. Because that's what I do when I hear/see something that offends me. I don't linger on it and wallow in it and try to outlaw it like these people. I look away and get on with my life.


I can't wait. On Monday I get to file my claim against dchatonly and see about getting my money back. I've been watching his feedback score steadily drop daily with glee (although I'd be a damn sight more gleeful if I was not among his many victims), in much the same way I keep an eye on W.'s approval rating. Until today when I noticed he actually gained a few points. "Well, what do you know?" I mused. "Looks like someone got their item after all." This is not the case, however. It appears some idiot (skyy05g) complained, "I don't have the movie yet!!!!!" but gave him a neutral rating. Hey, dumbass....see everyone else giving him a 1 out of 5? How does getting shafted like the rest of us deserve a 3 out of 5?? I consider a neutral score appropriate if, say, you get your item but it takes much longer than expected, or if the deal fell through after some extraordinary circumstances but the seller did everything he could to try to make you happy. If you've got no item and no communication and suspect you might have been ripped off, how do you justify 3 stars??? Percentage-wise (60% stars), that's practically a satisfied customer. I hope we all get our money back EXCEPT skyy05g.


Finally I had a dream that I was hanging out with my friend Laura. We were just about to pop in a movie when I suddenly thought I had to be at an inventory. I was halfway to the shower when I remembered, "Silly! You don't work for RGIS anymore!" I've never woken up with such a huge smile on my face before.
grrgoyl: (palin)
Okay, I don't normally post about dreams because I think they're generally uninteresting to other people. But I think you'll see why I couldn't resist this one.

First we were at Tery's birthday party (we're planning it at Mataam Fez, an awesome Moroccan restaurant in town). I was there with three or four very possessive, very jealous boyfriends who I had to give equal attention to avoid a Tery of course. But that wasn't the weird part.

From there we went shopping at Hot Topic, except it was this monstrous store, like the Newbury Comics of Hot Topics. I had ditched the other boys and chosen Michael Palin (well, yeah!) who was still dressed in his Spanish Inquisition costume because I had asked him to quote it for me at dinner. Tery was there, my sisters and THE POPE. We all spread out around the store and I was drawn to a corner of Cure stuff. I had died and gone to heaven (or hell, since I'm not rich). They had all these things, CDs, DVDs, books, T-shirts that I had never seen before. Boxed sets, all this rare never-before-seen stuff everywhere (I also thought "[ profile] vagynafondue HAS to see this!") After making the most agonizing decision of my life and picking out only 3 or 4 things (as soon as I would settle on something, my subconscious would invent an even cooler item that should exist but doesn't), I went to the counter. I asked the clerk (who looked a lot like Salem) if he ever thought he'd see the Pope shopping at Hot Topic. "Who, that guy? He's just a nutjob" he said as we watched Ratzi, now wearing an AC/DC shirt and old man Wrangler jeans (but still with the Pope hat on) walking around, bopping to the dark wave music (something that sounded suspiciously like "Bela Lugosi's Dead" which is sooooooo 20 years ago and no self-respecting Hot Topic would still be playing it) and acting like HE'D died and gone to heaven. "No, he's for real" I assured Salem. His eyes bugged out and of course he wanted a photo to put behind the register.

I paid for my stuff (not without noticing MORE Cure stuff behind the register that hadn't even made it to the salesfloor yet...KNOCK IT OFF, stupid subconscious!) and went to put on the T-shirt I had picked out (which was actually kind of ugly but what could I do?). For some reason I had gotten size 10x which fit me like a circus tent. "No, wait, I want to exchange this!" I yelled. But by this time there were 4 people in line ahead of me and Ratzi wanted to GO (I think he wanted to check out Urban Outfitters next door).

No more Kool-Aid for me at 1:30 a.m. before going to bed. I also blame the latest issue of The Onion for their headline story of the Pope at an amusement park.
grrgoyl: (frank)
I finally got paid today and took my replenished bank balance to my local grocery store immediately, where there were about 20 copies of HBP to choose from. It was all I could do not to hold my pretty aloft right in the store and cackle, "MUWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Whereas I'm sure camping out all night to buy a book can be a fun and exciting adventure, it was just as satisfying for me to not have to wait in a huge line and battle throngs of other fans stampeding towards the shelves. This scenario would probably end badly anyway as I am not of the attitude that little kids should be deferred to, and I just might trample one or two in my selfish haste. My little sister is even smarter -- she's one book behind the rest of the world, so she can leisurely wait for paperback, or bargain bins. There's definitely something to be said for keeping very busy with real life. I am still that busy, but come Sunday afternoon, I'm locking myself in the bedroom for the better part of the day. Although I do want to make the pleasure last, so I doubt I'll be in a hurry to finish it all in one sitting.

In a story that couldn't possibly be more unrelated, I have been amusing myself during the day watching a mini-drama unfold on the bathroom floor. You see, it is hot here (I know, it's hot everywhere. Hear me out). Damn hot, and being in a top-floor condo doesn't help matters one bit. I can only bear to work at the computer (in the loft of the top-floor condo) all day with the aid of a desk fan blowing directly in my face, a swamp cooler pressed against my legs, a frozen wet towel wrapped around my neck, and a spritzer bottle used to liberally soak my face, hair and feet throughout the day. Sure, we have AC, if you count the tiny wall unit downstairs that is only truly effective if you stand directly in front of it. So it isn't unusual to notice the critters sprawled in varying positions of heat exhaustion in the tiled rooms of the house, namely the kitchen and bathroom, where there is some illusion of being cooler. It is QUITE unusual, however, to see them all in the same room, like I did yesterday. Fortunately, I have photographic documentation of this rare event:

Image Hosted by


This is titled "Denial" because Polo (upper left) sleeps in here, on that exact spot, every day. The other animals do not. Note the look of indignation on her face. Note also that GiddyGiddy (lower right) is the only one who truly doesn't give a shit and looks the least like he's squaring off in a showdown.

::watch the drama unfold!:: )

In vaguely related news, we finally have a new cage for Pepita. A client that owns macaws (which are three times Pepita's size) donated an old cage to make room for a bigger one. Tery got to take it home, quite a coup when you realize this cage is easily worth about $1000. It is nice-looking, but big. We had to drastically rearrange our living room furniture to make room. Here's an idea of how big:

Image Hosted by

Keep in mind please that Pepita herself is about 6 inches tall. She hasn't got inside it yet. I don't think she's aware that the transition is inevitable, because this thing is so heavy that if we move, it will be included with the purchase of the unit. Of course, if she doesn't use it we could always turn it into a spare closet.

Edit Pt II: Oh yeah! I almost forgot. I had the best dream last night about meeting Ewan McGregor. I shyly approached him with something to autograph. As he signed it, he leaned over and breathed my name into my ear seductively. This naturally affected me, but not as much as the fact that I hadn't told it to him, which meant that he already knew it somehow. *sigh* Then I had to wake up to the sun pounding on my face in a puddle of moisture (sweat! It was sweat!)

Back to sweating my ass off work for me.

dreamy men

Jan. 7th, 2005 09:40 am
grrgoyl: (goldmine)
My dreams are full of men lately....Giles, Marilyn Manson (appearing a little less creepy), even some that I know, Bryan Hill, Jason McAuliffe, others. Some in the background, some just flirting, some 100% sexual. And I have to admit my pendulum is slowly swinging back to the yang. I miss men. Women are beautiful, I won't deny that, but it's been too long since I've felt someone firm not soft, angular not rounded, stronger, bigger, different. With a woman intimacy is inextricable from emotion. With a man there is only the simple, pure, uncomplicated physical. And clearly, at least on a subconscious level, I am aching for that.
grrgoyl: (cleese)
Last night I kicked President Bush's ASS.

Well, not really. It was a dream. I went to a very lame costume party. Patton Oswalt the comedian was there. Alan Cumming was there, though there was none of the intimate gazing across the room I love so much. And Dubya was there in his jet fighter costume, acting as "security" as the halls were dark outside and people were nervous about walking through them.

I was sitting right next to the open front door making a snide remark about Dubya (which I am wont to do, even more so now that I am reading Al Franken's Lies and the Lying Liars Who Tell Them (which I would resoundingly recommend to anyone who hates filthy liars and filthier right-wingnuts, apparently not mutually exclusive categories, not by a long shot)), which he caught the tail end of. He came in all puffed up and demanded to know who made the jab at him. I figured he knew it was me, so I jokingly pointed to a couch full of people and said, "It was.....her." He swaggered over to my mother at the end of the couch and pretended to spank her. Understandably horrified, I jumped up and challenged him to fight. It wasn't fisticuffs, we just grappled like wrestlers. For awhile we were evenly matched, but then we both slowly realized I was stronger than him. His eyes widened as I picked him up a little ways off the ground and then dumped him on his side as hard as I could, with the delighted partygoers looking on. That's when I woke up.

I gotta lay off the steroids before I go to bed. *

* That's a joke. I don't take steroids. I do, however, appear to have a not-so-subconscious desire to kick a little presidential booty.
grrgoyl: (Default)
I definitely need to read Tommy's Tale more often before falling asleep. I dreamed I was at a hoity-toity party and I was very uncomfortable because I didn't know anyone. Alan found me standing in a corner and started talking to me, then before I knew it we were slow-dancing. His arms were wrapped tightly around me and I buried my face in his shoulder as he whispered in my ear, and the rest of the world disappeared. It felt heavenly to be so close to him.

Then in the next part he was yelling at all the other guests for some reason, cutting them to the quick with sarcastic, clever witticisms, and no one could even look him in the eye. I didn't mind, though, because I knew he wouldn't talk to me that way.

grrgoyl: (Default)
I have had Xena on the brain a lot lately, beginning with a couple of weekends ago when Tabby was over. She hadn't been online in months, after learning the hard way how meeting someone in person that you got on with famously online could be quite disastrous; the meeting ultimately resulted in her losing her computer, and most of her favorite clothes and CDs in a breakup spectacularly out of proportion to the amount of time she had known the girl (who on top of being emotionally unbalanced was apparently a very accomplished thief).

But that is neither here nor there.

After having a few drinks she decided it might be fun to get on my computer and cruise some AOL chatrooms. As I have stated earlier, I was once a huge fan of the chatrooms, or at least one in particular, the member-created "Fearsome Females" based loosely on a mutual admiration of "Xena: Warrior Princess" though we talked about far more than that. I have since tried to return to the rooms but I can't figure out if the problem lies in my lack of ability to focus adequately to start a meaningful conversation with anyone or if there really isn't anyone hanging out in chatrooms WORTH having a conversation with anymore. They are either hopelessly "clique-y" or strangely silent, which means the occupants are either furiously IMing each other privately or have moved on to other pursuits and forgotten they left their virtual alter-ego in the room. The most stimulating room I have been to lately was linked from an AOL article about gay marriage and boy was it a mistake to wander in THERE. Basically a bunch of homophobic idiots who talked all in caps to drown out any kind of rational dialogue on the topic ("Why is it people with closed minds always have their mouths open?" I love that bumper sticker.) After getting sufficiently riled to offer some comments of my own that were mostly completely ignored in the shouting match, I closed the window for the sake of my escalating blood pressure. Because there are some topics that you simply cannot change someone's mind about in the context of a chatroom.

But back to Tabby and her search for some hot online lesbian action. The first few rooms we found were hella lame, one of which was inhabited by no one over the age of 15. Tery and I jokingly tried to give her some tips on picking up younger girls (remember Tabby is 20 and Tery and I are both over 30 (but also remember Tabby seduced me)) but it really was quite hopeless and the only meeting ground they could conjure was the infamous VMA Madonna kiss. So we moved on to some member-created rooms. This was even worse for Tabby since they mostly contained the over-30 crowd. (The inference we can make is the 20-something lesbians are probably out in actual bars meeting each other.) Naturally Tabby was logged on under my name and she was horrified when one intelligent and interesting woman noticed the Xena reference in my profile and started discussing the show with her. Tabby is quite the conundrum in that she is totally into lesbians and women, she only reads lesbian erotica, she only wants to watch movies with lesbians in them, etc. There is nothing wrong with this apart from the fact that the material is somewhat limited and she is bound to run out of entertainment quickly, especially at the rapacious rate she consumes it. So I can't understand her opposition to Xena, probably the biggest lesbian icon to come out since Martina. I even brought over some of the best episodes for her to watch that I felt required the least familiarity with the show to enjoy, but she would have none of it. So it went something like this at the computer:

AzurePhase: So, Grr, you like Xena? What is your favorite episode?
Tabby at the computer: Nooooooooooooooo.......I don't WANT to talk about Xena!!!!!!!!!
Elaine behind her: :::::laughing my ass off:::::

I coached her through some answers but she lost interest very quickly and rudely fled the room in mid-conversation with poor Azure. I reminded her she was using my name and I had better not get an inbox full of pissed-off emails tomorrow from these people.

So here I am feeling all nostalgic for Xena again, making this dream not very hard to interpret at all:

I dreamed I had somewhere found a long-lost, never aired episode of Xena called "The Plinth." I even know exactly where the title came from. I had just finished "The Order of the Phoenix," where Ms. Rowling uses this word to describe the base of the stone arch with the curtain into which Sirius disappears. I remember thinking what an odd word it was at the time. Here it was again in my dream, except in the Xena episode "plinth" meant a supernaturally attractive being with every ideal physical trait. Somewhere in the middle of it I was suddenly IN the episode and of course I was Xena (herself an almost supernaturally attractive being). The Plinth appeared and he/she was naked and dazzingly beautiful. I say he/she because s/he was very tall, lean and wiry with the overall body shape of a man, with shoulder-length soft blond hair and piercing blue eyes; except s/he had small, perfectly formed breasts and asexual but still vaguely feminine genitalia, like a store mannequin. After appearing in a blaze of heavenly light (s/he may or may not have had angel wings) s/he lay down on a dais and beckoned me to join him/her (because I was Xena, after all.) I don't remember much of what followed, but I am sure it was positively lovely......

Speaking of Plinths, here are some drool-worthy pics of Hugh Jackman (the only other man besides Alan who makes me weak in the knees) from this month's Advocate because again I am just too damn lazy to find a community to post them to:



grrgoyl: (Default)

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