. . . while I'm trying to blog.

There are busy footsteps wafting up the stairway, and the sounds of someone furiously packing.

My husband is clearly taking a shortcut of some sort, since we don't move until this coming Monday, and it's cheating to start packing before Sunday. Saturday, earliest.

I also have editing to do. And housework. But I'm not sure how to access the internet while I'm physically working; is there some sort of IV drip available now?

Work, work, work. Tromp, tromp, tromp. He's doing it on purpose. He wants me to feel guilty.

The only way out, as I see it, is to take a nap. But, here. On the couch. After all, the WiFi doesn't seem to work very well from the bedroom.

Posted by: Attila Girl at 10:05 AM | No Comments | Add Comment
Post contains 149 words, total size 1 kb.

We had a nice little party to celebrate Joe's launch into the world of shrinkdom.

I asked him where he learned to read lips, and unfortunately he picked that up from his speech therapist as a child. I still think I should earn lipreading and/or ASL before my hearing starts to go in a few years: I have seen the future, and it is my grandmother. If there are steps I can take to avoid becoming quite so isolated, they would be a good idea.

Posted by: Attila Girl at 06:23 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
Post contains 93 words, total size 1 kb.

Web M.D. has a partial list.

Coping With the Symptoms of Menopause

There are many ways you can ease menopause symptoms and maintain your health. These tips include ways to cope with mood swings, fears and depression:

• Find a self-calming skill to practice such as yoga, meditation or slow, deep breathing.

• Avoid tranquilizers.

• Engage in a creative outlet or hobby that fosters a sense of achievement.

•Stay connected with your family and community and nurture your friendships.

• Seek emotional support from friends, family members or a professional counselor when needed.

• Take steps to stay cool during hot flashes, such as wearing loose clothing.

• Keep your bedroom cool to prevent night sweats and disturbed sleep.

• Take medicines, vitamins and minerals as prescribed by your doctor.

• Eat healthfully and exercise regularly.

That's fine, as far as it goes. Naturally, I had a few thoughts of my own:

• Invest in a Cool-Max pajama top.

• Buy your wine by the box.

• Use plenty of lime when burying bodies.

• Keep sorbet on hand for hot flashes.

• Consider alternatives to firearms, such as razor wire and edged weapons.

• Eat lots of Rice Krispies.

• Find a copendent friend whom you can endlessly berate over the phone when your estrogen levels are low. Avoid people with self-esteem.

• If you find yourself with a staff job, make a study of your boss's dietary habits. Buy a small manual on untraceable poisons. You may never need it, but it'll give you peace of mind.

• Read books on revenge carefully; learn to cover your tracks when you go on the karma-balancing prowl. Consider getting even with people other than those you imagine are somehow wronging you. After all, someone will pay it forward, some day.

"Did I get 'em all?" I asked Attila the Hub.

"Almost," he replied. "Just one more."

• Howl like a wolf for hours on end.

"I thought I was doing that already," I remarked.

"No, no. I don't mean internally, or using mere words. Or blogging, for crying out loud. I don't mean like Alan-freaking-Ginsburg. I mean actual, literal howling."

"Excellent idea. I'll try it. But I think I'll have some sorbet first."

Posted by: Attila Girl at 08:08 PM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
Post contains 382 words, total size 2 kb.

No; I have no idea how they ended up in an entry about pit bulls. Though I admit that Mandy likes to lick them when they are bare.

I do keep all shoes away from her, of course. Her notion of engineering, whether it has to do with a shoe or a suitcase or a chair or a vacuum cleaner, is that anything built "to last" was actually built to be a challenge when it's time to destroy it.

Posted by: Attila Girl at 09:09 AM | Comments (7) | Add Comment
Post contains 89 words, total size 1 kb.

Eric is not exaggerating. Though I've developed a sense for when Mandy might noiselessly pounce, and I can usually nip it in the bud with a command. (Unless she is trying to get out of the car and go off-leash; we have had some vigorous "discussions" about that, and if she really wants to make a break for it I will give the leash to my mother, when feasible: Mom has more weight than I do.)

Hard to explain: the girl can bluster and bark and growl, but if she goes into stealth mode, she moves like lightning.

She is a true athlete, and a work of beauty. And she has soft, silky fur.

Posted by: Attila Girl at 08:00 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
Post contains 126 words, total size 1 kb.

Despite the fact that I've never gotten around to learning the names of all the birds that alight on my balcony here in La Canada, I may miss them after we move: they come in all sizes, from hummingbirds to crows—and everything in between.

At the condo in Glendale we've seen signs of pigeon-proofing all over the railing. Though no actual pigeons. I suppose it isn't pigeon season.

I guess that's part of the Urban Experience: supermarkets within walking distance, and fewer species of birds.

If I play my cards right, my next digs will feature pterodactyls. We shall have to pterodactyl-proof our balcony, lest the beasts get in our way when we grill chicken breasts on hot summer nights.

Posted by: Attila Girl at 06:38 PM | Comments (4) | Add Comment
Post contains 128 words, total size 1 kb.

1 I would have thought pterodactyls would have been a bigger problem in La Canada, due to its greater distance from The La Brea Tar Pits. Just goes to show me. Better keep some Purina Pterodactyl Chow in your pocket to fling over the balcony in case of an attack. And get John McCain to work on another mythical problem. There's probably a multi-trillion dollar solution to that one too.

Posted by: Darrell at May 13, 2008 09:06 PM (pE9Mf)

2 Well, it turns out that the pterodactyls are all over the hills; they actually go out as far as Arcadia, where they are really big. Apparently a lot of the medium-size ones nest in the Angeles National Forest, and that's what worries me. I don't mind the bitty ones--I was, in fact, thinking of putting out some pterodactyl feeders for the sub-foot-long ones--but the biggers ones apparently swoop in and steal the feed. They are reportedly more aggressive about that than squirrels. And one has to watch out for the teeth, of course. Though I do have experience with Mandy, and I might be able to simply say "no!" or "ouch!" (She respects "ouch" more than "no," because we sound serious when we say it: so my mother has started to say it when she isn't in pain, like when the dog jumps on the new couch.) I have never tried to train a pterodactyl. But, really: how hard could it be?

Posted by: Attila Girl at May 14, 2008 01:17 PM (Hgnbj)

3 Maybe get them to extend their feeding range about 350 miles due northwest. That should take care of a lot of problems.

Posted by: Darrell at May 14, 2008 07:52 PM (6B7A4)

4 No can do: too many friends/relatives up there. Including the second-youngest set of nephews (the nieces/nephews go in clumps: early twenties, college age [Chicago area] the two Bay Area schoolkids, and the baby/baby enroute [in Connecticut]). I don't know why I flagellate myself over not having had kids: there are plenty of 'em around, after all. I just have to decide which nieces/nephews I need to snooker into taking care of me when I get old. Maybe I should make it a point to get rich. Then the snooker-ee can cut a better deal in my will, and everyone wins.

Posted by: Attila Girl at May 15, 2008 12:02 PM (Hgnbj)

Hide Comments | Add Comment

As I stopped by the supermarket, the woman at the checkout counter asked if I was a mom.

"Oh, no." I replied. "But I'm a daughter, and I'm cooking for my mother in a few minutes."

Please note that "cooking" is rather a grandiose term for throwing together some pasta, cut melon, and a green salad—and keeping the dog away from the table while my husband and mother were having dinner. (No, no: I ate, too. I'm not that codependent.)

Happy silly Hallmark holiday; kiss the folks you love.

Not bad for 72, huh?

Posted by: Attila Girl at 10:25 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
Post contains 100 words, total size 1 kb.

. . . here. Just keep scrolling.

Posted by: Attila Girl at 07:56 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
Post contains 17 words, total size 1 kb.

with the people from AT&T, trying to figure out whether it was a better deal to get television, telephone, and internet service from them at the new place (with the aesthetic evil of a dish on the balcony), versus the same bundle from Charter Communications (without the aesthetic evil of a dish on the balcony).

Afterward I considered eating my gun, but that's a trick you can only perform once. So I descended the stairs and informed my husband that I was tempted to do something freaky: "what if I just let the people who know how to do phone service do that, and the people who know how to give us extra TV channels do that, and stop trying to save ten dollars a month or whatever by getting all these functions from one entity, gambling that they'll actually be able to deliver it properly?"

He was into the idea, but I'm going to make one more round of calls on Monday to be sure. At least the internet part is easy: x amount of bandwidth for y amount of money.

Tomorrow morning's good time: Compare carpeting to vinyl tile. Conveniently, carpeting is priced per square yard, and vinyl tile is priced per square foot. Fortunately, my mother will probably pick up the flooring costs for us (instead of buying us a groovy energy-efficient washer-dryer), so that will help out a lot. Yet I still have no intention of paying more than it's worth—whether we're "on scholarship," or not (the first estimate I got was unacceptable, no matter who's paying). So back to the calculator I go, reminding myself that a square yard is not really three times a square foot, but rather nine. Because flooring arithmetic uses one more dimension than, say, cooking arithmetic.

We're considering taking the old carpeting out, putting sawdust on the floor, and living without television, telephone, or the internet. We can communicate with the outside world by carrier pigeon. (A the H suggests that we might even release those pigeons and seal up the windows, so as not to take a chance on having to see the outside world. "Also," he reminds me, "that would save us money on window treatments.")

Posted by: Attila Girl at 06:55 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
Post contains 384 words, total size 2 kb.

Mmmmm. Back in town, and I'm ready to start really blogging again—along with editing a cool piece of fiction a friend's trying to knock into shape, and fixing up our new home in Glendale.

Mostly, though, I feel like sleeping for 12 hours solid before I get back to Real Life tomorrow. I mean, on one level it feels creepy to admit that I'm exhausted, but I did show up at three different locations on Sunday to take pictures. I did bring The Runner fresh water, and take his gear belt off of his hands at Mile 18. I did drive us back to the airport today.

So I'm ready for a night off. I'll be reading tonight, and going to bed early.

I am ready, in short, to surf the internet of the just.

Posted by: Attila Girl at 05:20 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
Post contains 149 words, total size 1 kb.

I'm in love with Eugene, Oregon, but I'm sure it's just a passing fancy. After all, they got snow here. I suspect.

Anyway, it was forty-four degrees this morning, and it stayed that way for hours and hours and hours. I mean, cold.

Posted by: Attila Girl at 07:45 PM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
Post contains 59 words, total size 1 kb.

It is just past 8:00 p.m. on a Saturday night. I'm trying to remember how we handled this night-before business the last two times I accompanied A the H on a marathon trip; the early hours he has to keep make things a challenge. I'll see if I can get to sleep in another hour; otherwise, I could go for a walk, read in the lobby (or in the bathroom), or go grab a martini in the hotel bar. Right now a little blogging and a Damrak on ice are working for me, though potentially I should think about getting headphones for future trips, so I can watch video without disturbing the spouse.

One thing that's different this time: we only have one bed here at the Red Lion, which means that there's no second bed to be used purely for "staging"—a large flat surface only for marathon paraphernalia. He's had to use the desk for this. I tried to adopt a little sliver of that desk for my stuff, but have had to beat back his imperialist incursions into that space. Maybe next time I'll tape off my section—as if we were squabbling teenagers in the back of a car on a family trip.

We drove around town this evening so I could get my bearings; the idea is for me to get A the H to the starting line (or close to it, anyway) before too many of the roads close. Then I need to zip back over to this side of the river and see how many points I can intercept him on during his 26.2-mile par-tay. The critical meetup is at Mile 18, where I'm to take his empty water belt from him and hand him a fresh bottle of water for his final eight miles.

After that, I jump back into the rented SUV and book over to the finish line, so I can see him cross. Then (supposedly) I give him back his wallet, money, comb, cell phone, and wedding ring. [I'm not positive why a guy doesn't need his wedding ring for an endurance contest of this nature. I choose to believe that it's because his hands will swell up during the race. I realize there are other possible explanations . . . ]

Eugene is a pretty little town, and I do love it here. It reminds me of Northern California; it reminds the husband of the suburbs around Chicago. I understand that it probably wasn't quite so lovely here a few months ago. Even now, it got pretty chilly toward the end of the day, and I'm having trouble believing that it'll be over 70 degrees tomorrow. I'll be wearing layers, just to be safe.

Posted by: Attila Girl at 07:39 PM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
Post contains 424 words, total size 2 kb.

It was an uneventful trip, though I'm as dehydrated as I usually am after flying. I might be able to get online for a time tomorrow morning, and I'll definitely check in at some point over the weekend.

But things might be just a bit light around here until I'm back in L.A.

Tonight, though, I'm going to bed: I was up all night last night. And tomorrow will involve some strategizing over a race map, and the collecting of Strange Marathoner Objects such as a piece of fabric ribbon, a Sharpie pen, and some packing tape.

You be a good blogosphere, okay? And don't forget to send me money.

Posted by: Attila Girl at 09:34 PM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
Post contains 114 words, total size 1 kb.

I still haven't decided whether or not I should crash for a few hours tonight, before we leave to catch our flight tomorrow morning to the Pacific Northwest, where Attila the Hub will be running a marathon on Sunday.

Why can't we just take a red-eye, like normal people?

I'll probably be talking to the husband's former boss during the event, since his wife is running a marathon in a different city at the same time. I hear T-Mobile is setting up a special "Embittered Athletic Spouses" rate.

I've had a lot of trouble focusing on the race, for obvious reasons. When I look at the map of the race course, my mind goes kerflooey. And yet I've really enjoyed the two marathons I went to in support of the husband. I think this one will be especially nice: for one thing, the weather will be cooler up there than it is here. For another, I suspect that A the H will set what they call a "PR" this weekend (stands for Personal Record, of course).

It'll also get me away from the real estate front for a while. But I am getting good at this: I keep thinking that if I can sell a couple of books this year, I might be able to pick up another condo before the market recovers completely, and rent it—or flip it, maybe. Though flipping really depends on market timing, which is why I prefer the idea of renting places out—it's more of a "buy and hold" strategy. (A the H reminds me that commercial real estate has the advantage of not leading to phone calls in the middle of the night because people's pipes burst. True enough; but people always need to live somewhere, no matter how tough times are. When there is a recession, though, they just conduct business out of their guesthouses, garages, extra bedrooms, walk-in closets, and the like. It's especially easy to work from home these days, and the whole thing has gained a respectability—even a cachet. So I'm more nervous about commercial R.E.)

On the home front, we're figuring out where we want to cut costs right now, so we can get the most important tasks accomplished before we move into the condo. I should be getting a more exact cost breakdown on flooring this coming Saturday. We might end up carpeting the entire condo, but we may be able to scrape up the dough for some premium fake wood (industrial-grade—not the cheap, icky shit). The contenders: quasi-bamboo; quasi-teak; quasi-cherry (with a super-light "stain"). Possibly some rustic greenish discolored pine. Elm, maybe. Or Alder.

We'll see how our finances look, and we'll see whether the HOA at the new place will give us the go-ahead, if we can get the noise-muffling level right.

The "window" I want to drill between the dining area and the kitchen can wait. Furniture can wait. Even decent window treatments can wait, at least for a few weeks; I'll put rice paper up if I have to.

Floors and walls have to be done now, even if it means we have to compromise on the exact materials we use, and re-do it a few years down the line.

I'm off to work on my May budget; it was due today. I'm starting to get looks from the person whom I was going to go over it with. Those sorts of looks.

Posted by: Attila Girl at 09:54 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
Post contains 583 words, total size 3 kb.

there's fire. But not the converse.

Right now there isn't any smoke out in the hills, so I'm assuming things are somewhat contained in Sierra Madre.

But it's ninety degrees out there, and there's a bit of a wind. Bad combo, so please be careful with those cigarettes, okay?

Posted by: Attila Girl at 04:05 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
Post contains 61 words, total size 1 kb.

. . . Sends the following snippet of Stevie Smith's poetry:

I long for the Person from Porlock
To bring my thoughts to an end,
I am becoming impatient to see him
I think of him as a friend,

Often I look out of the window
Often I run to the gate
I think, He will come this evening,
I think it is rather late.

I am hungry to be interrupted
For ever and ever amen
O Person from Porlock come quickly
And bring my thoughts to an end.

Personally, I have the Internet from Porlock, though I hear the Television Show from Porlock is also popular.

Posted by: Attila Girl at 03:20 PM | Comments (13) | Add Comment
Post contains 111 words, total size 1 kb.

1 ;-) American Porlock! My Name is Porlock! CSI: Porlock! Law and Porlock! Two and a Half Porlocks! ooh, something shiny! it's so porlocky!

Posted by: Rin at April 24, 2008 05:31 PM (pzH6j)

2 Editor/English majors are so weird! And you make fun of engineers? Porlock is a quiet coastal village in Somerset, England, situated in a deep hollow below Exmoor, five miles west of Minehead. The Person from Porlock was an unwelcome visitor to Samuel Taylor Coleridge who called by during his composition of the oriental poem Kubla Khan Humor? Or does it involve shaving the pubes again?

Posted by: Darrell at April 24, 2008 09:19 PM (o2iua)

3 ^s...Editors!

Posted by: Darrell at April 24, 2008 09:21 PM (o2iua)

4 D, you must remember that engineers are weird, whereas English lit types are merely . . . eccentric. Now that you've mentioned The Poem by name, I shall spend the rest of the night wondering how much of it I can recite by memory. Oddly, it's easier than "The Highwayman" or "The Kubaiyat of Omar Khayyam," because it changes tempo midway, but I think I only have 90% of it these days. Maybe 80%. But my favorite part is right after the damsel with the dulcimer. Weave a circle 'round me thrice, And close your eyes in holy dread, For I on honeydew have fed, And drunk the milk of . . . Hey! It's SWEEPS WEEK!

Posted by: Attila Girl at April 24, 2008 09:35 PM (Hgnbj)

5 "Hey! It's SWEEPS WEEK!" After the pube shaving/trimming? Everything is funnier after a few G&Ts, isn't it?

Posted by: Darrell at April 24, 2008 09:55 PM (o2iua)

6 I think I get it, btw. A cheap attempt at making your poem a classic? "Dark and stormy night" stuff?

Posted by: Darrell at April 24, 2008 09:56 PM (o2iua)

7 I will have you know that one of the best books of all time, A Wrinkle in Time, begins with what Madeleine L'Engle calls "that old war horse." And, you know: it's always a dark and stormy night in the soul of a drama queen.

Posted by: Attila Girl at April 24, 2008 11:08 PM (Hgnbj)

8 Please note not only Rin's allusions to various television titles, but also her "something shiny" reference to the ADD personality/culture. Gotta go. I'm composing a brilliant poem entitled "The Love Song of J. Alfred Porlock.

Posted by: Attila Girl at April 25, 2008 12:31 AM (Hgnbj)

9 I have measured out my life in interruptions. ps, why is Darrell so obsessed with your pubes, and with the putative or proleptic shaving thereof?

Posted by: Rin at April 25, 2008 01:19 PM (bSHZa)

10 Worry not; it's a callback to the Playboy thread.

Posted by: Attila Girl at April 25, 2008 02:03 PM (Hgnbj)

11 And to the martial arts thread.

Posted by: Darrell at April 25, 2008 09:31 PM (2+qe5)

12 You've been EAVESDROPPING on my flirting with Wendy? I thought that was between her, her husband, me, Matt, Sean, Stacy, and a bottle of clear, high-end, citrus-flavored tequila. Oh--and the World Wide Web. But as I understand it, those people are very discreet, so there's certainly nothing to worry about THERE.

Posted by: Attila Girl at April 25, 2008 09:37 PM (Hgnbj)

13 Sorry! Next time hang the "Do NOT Disturb" sign.

Posted by: Darrell at April 25, 2008 10:31 PM (2+qe5)

Hide Comments | Add Comment

Going well for her. I was a vegetarian for four years, but I cannot get along without dairy products. I might be able to live without cheese and yogurt, in a pinch. But to this day I consume huge amounts of lowfat, liquid milk. It won't stop any time soon.

The other problem I have is that some vegan foodstuffs go overboard on ingredients like seaweed, and though I like a bit of seaweed—say, in a Japanese pastry—there's a delicate line: I don't eat fish at my most omnivorous, so anything that has too fishy a taste is right out. The exceptions are miso soup with just a whisper of bonita shavings that I can pretend not to know about, or an omelet with a splash of non-vegetarian Worcestershire sauce that I can likewise ignore.

Gosh, I hope Megan is wrong about women in Manhattan. I would love it if her upbringing there were a minority experience. Personally, I'd hate to feel guilty about eating. I take a distinct delight in food, though when I'm reading or writing (which is always) there's a point beyond which I simply don't want to fuss with it. If I could take a pill that would keep me from being hungry, I might well starve, since I can go for days or even weeks without being in the mood to mess around with the eating idea. Not because I'm against it, but because I don't have much of an attention span for anything whatsoever. The best thing that ever happened to me is the book rack I got in college, which I can use to prop up a book or magazine in front of me while I eat soup, cold cereal, or anything else that requires two hands.

I'm perfectly willing to cook, but not if I'm in the middle of reading or writing a hot chapter. Or even a hot blogpost. Let's not be ridiculous.

Which is to say that food is lovely, but if I had to choose between interesting food and fine words, I'd take the words: they are more satisfying than food, and more intoxicating than any drug.

But I do live in a human body, and my stomach is growling. So off I go to eat, rather than composing a kick-ass villanelle. This is, of course, the world's grave loss.

Posted by: Attila Girl at 11:02 AM | No Comments | Add Comment
Post contains 397 words, total size 2 kb.

Who knew there was a . . . what do you call that? A "blogosphere"?

Who knew there was a blogosphere out there?

My obsessions:

(1) doing a bit of laundry by hand every night, since our washing machine decided to die 5-6 weeks before we move;

(2) figuring out how cheaply we can move to the new place, and begin to furnish it in accordance with its 1974 leanings/our own tastes/the cheapskate side of my nature;

(3) picking out paint colors for same in the correct blend of 1960s/1970s/1980s hues for each room; setting up a guest bed plus two home offices in, like, no space; selecting window treatments; scienceing out the flooring (Pergo-equivalent, wood laminate, hardwood, or carpeting? Factors are: cost, speed of installation, degree of noise-muffling each will bring; ease of upkeep; hypo-allergenic qualities given that the "lady" of the house [who isn't, of course] is the worst. Housekeeper. Ever.)

Escrow closes on May 21st. I suspect I won't be making it up to either Shell Beach or the Bay Area until after we move— especially since I'm out of commission the first week in May (trip to Oregon, for which I'm on ice-fetching duty after Attila the Hub runs his next marathon).

We went to mass down in Glendale this evening, and then had dinner at one of the local restaurants near our new digs—a chain, but one that serves decent food. Too noisy, but I was able to get a small pizza with spinach and artichoke. For some reason, I crave vegetables lately; probably the changing of the seasons.

Mmmmm: spinach.

Dessert/midnight snack will be either mango slices or fresh strawberries.

You people out in reader-land must be good, now. For I . . . shan't.

Posted by: Attila Girl at 10:30 PM | Comments (7) | Add Comment
Post contains 291 words, total size 2 kb.

Sean Kinsell explains:

It's convenient that (small-l) "libertarian" suits me fine, because it tends not to set people off. I like "classical liberal," but (today's left) liberals often seem to think you're trying to dress up as one of them while being a closet fascist. ("Yeah, you're a liberal in the sense that, like, Mill would have meant it," someone sneered at me once.) And while my positions on many issues align with what we now consider "conservatism," I'm not fundamentally a conservative. (Well, I am when some gross guy is hitting on me. Then I identify myself as a "conservative" in a clear, forceful tone and mention that I'm a registered Republican. You movement conservatives don't mind the fib, do you? It's to the end of preventing casual homosexual intercourse, after all. And I really am a registered Republican.)

The only problem with calling yourself a libertarian--besides, as Eric alludes to, being invited by supposed fellow travelers to engage in poker-faced debates over the most inane hypothetical situations imaginable--is that a lot of people don't understand that it doesn't mean "libertine" or "anarchist." I can't count the number of times I've had to explain that no, I don't think all governing bodies should be dissolved so we can frolic naked in meadows all day and subsist on game and wild berries. In general, though, even those who conclude I'm just a closet right-winger seem to give me a fair hearing without rancor.

Yeah, well. Most of my friends are so far to the left that it doesn't matter that I'm a small "l" libertarian/classical Liberal. Any support for military action makes me Very Misguided Indeed.

"Well, of course," one of my pals said once. "You were so far to the left—a Communist, and all that. It makes sense that if you went over the line you'd be at the other extreme."

I'm at "the other extreme" because I think free markets are the least-inefficient way to lift people out of poverty, I'm willing to wage selective wars to liberate women and protect the people of this country, and I don't think the government has a place in my bedroom, my diet, or my humidor.

John Stuart Mill—I'm comin' to join you, Honey.

Posted by: Attila Girl at 11:47 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
Post contains 381 words, total size 2 kb.

We just got an offer accepted on a condo in Glendale, so I'm

(1) lining up a home inspector (the seller would like the contingencies out of the way as soon as possible;
(2) researching hypo-allergenic flooring that also muffles sound a bit (I'd like to go to Pergo, but I don't know how well that will work on a third floor, particularly given my ability to stomp around);
(3) going to the gym, and maybe
(4) buying a book. Someone packed up every shred of reading material in the house and took it to storage. Now that I've finished Liberal Fascism, I'm dying for reading material that doesn't blink at me like a laptop screen.

Posted by: Attila Girl at 12:32 PM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
Post contains 122 words, total size 1 kb.