I got a late start, which was made later by traffic, and later still when it took me an hour and a half to vote in Downey. The line was long, like the line to a Disneyland ride.

That would have been good in a lot of places, but in L.A. County it probably just meant that a lot of people were excited about the election for . . . well, the wrong reasons.

So in order not the keep the blogger who will be putting up with me this week waiting up all night (this is a person with a real job), I decided to stop here for the night in lovely Primm—sort of The Gateway to Nevadan Decadence. There are three hotels/casinos here, and all of 'em are apparently owned by the same company. I'm not sure I understand what the point of that is, but it seemed like a good place to stop because 1) I had to put gas in the car anyway, and 2) rooms here go for $29 (though internet access costs more).

I tried to get a room at Buffalo Bill's, but apparently that is the casino this town reserves for high rollers; they do not take "walk ins."

"Okay," I asked the guy. "Which of the other two is cheaper?—or should I go on down the road to Jean?"

He ignored the second question, which implies to me that Jean and it's one, count 'em, one casino is not owned by the Primm people.

If it were up to me, the town of Jean would change its name to Proper. But I'm rarely consulted about these things.

Posted by: Attila Girl at 11:13 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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"I knew you were vaguely interested in him; I didn't know you were helplessly in love with him. I thought you were his gal-pal, with an eye toward the future. Given the risk to you personally, do you think I would have encouraged you to hang out with him if I had known you were in love?"

What am I—the Dr. Mengele of human relationships?

There is a difference between

It's drizzling.

and

Hurricane Katrina is about to make landfall.

One can argue that it is simply a difference in degree, but I would argue that at that point it is a difference in kind.

Yeah, yeah. Maybe I should have guessed. But here is a question for you: what happened to your vaunted love for me? Was it simply a way of getting closer to him? Weren't you simply using me, all along?

This is a guy who made your name into a swear-word in the 1980s. He had grammatical rules put together for how to slander you. All in a spirit of "fun."

No. I never would have guessed. You would have had to tell me.

E.B. once alluded to having "betrayed" me, years after our last triangle together: the one that changed both of our lives for good, and forever.

"My, my," I remarked, rather mildly—hiding, I think, my shock—"what a big word."

And by that I meant that what happened in 1990 was utterly excruciating to me. But 100% necessary. And I paid for it in human relationships for a couple of decades; I'm still paying, actually.

But I don't begrudge them their happiness, and I wouldn't take a moment of it back.

Life hurts. Remember Mrs. Dalloway?

Those ruffians, the Gods, shan't have it all their own way-- her notion being that the Gods, who never lost a chance of hurting, thwarting and spoiling human lives, were seriously put out if, all the same, you behaved like a lady.

—Virginia Woolf

I could send you some couch-pillows, if that would help.

Posted by: Attila Girl at 09:15 AM | Comments (9) | Add Comment
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1 You would have had to tell me. I would have to tell you? ummm, is this one of those moments where the appropriate answer is I'm wrong, you're right, and I'm sorry? I dunno, I'm a single dude, so all this relationship stuff is a bit foreign to me. Besides, I don't want to get sticky gooey stuff on me. And as a dude, I'm obviously clue-challenged. Can you help a fellow out? (the meteorologist in me wants to expound upon the differences between a drizzle and a landfalling Cat 3 hurricane, but i'll refrain)

Posted by: I R A Darth Aggie at October 14, 2008 09:27 AM (1hM1d)

2 You're a fast reader. Here's another one for you, which should muddy the waters even further: Joy: "Wait. If T. doesn't get along with B., shouldn't she be hanging out with W.?" Science Girl: "Yes. They've been good friends for two years now." Joy: "Oops. I should start writing this stuff down. It's a wonder I haven't committed about a million faux pas by now. And aren't I supposed to be the novelist, the keen observer of human relations? And you're the scientist, the engineer, too focused on facts to keep track of the emotional side of life? How did I end up being 'the guy' in this relationship?" Science Girl: "Hahaha. There's one in every group!"

Posted by: Attila Girl at October 14, 2008 09:49 AM (TpmQk)

3 Huh? You are just way too deep for me!

Posted by: RightGirl at October 14, 2008 10:08 AM (dizBt)

4 You know, for someone who swears coke does nothing for her, you certainly sound like you're strung out on something... Please, what you smoke, and how can I get it? But seriously, what's the background? Is it permitted to ask? Or are you really strung out on something...

Posted by: Gregory at October 14, 2008 04:51 PM (cjwF0)

5 ?

Posted by: rin at October 15, 2008 02:37 PM (bSHZa)

6 Choose wisely.

Posted by: Attila Girl at October 16, 2008 03:23 AM (TpmQk)

7 If this is addressed to me, if I am the "you" being addressed, then I would say this is not an appropriate forum or method of communication on private matters. The "E.B." and "1990" references are opaque. Perhaps none of it is relevant to me, but rather about some other drama, some other set of painful decisions. In which case, never mind. Rin

Posted by: Rin at October 16, 2008 09:39 AM (f8xXa)

8 It's a prose poem, Rin. Don't you like it?

Posted by: Attila Girl at October 16, 2008 10:36 AM (TpmQk)

9 No. I like direct communication, with clearly referenced pronouns and accurately cited facts. I also like honesty and accountability and personal responsibility. I don't know what the above is about. As I said, if it's about me, this is not a way to tell me anything. If it's about someone else, if someone else is the victim of whoever's bad acts, then it's unclear and therefore not productive of insight or knowledge, at least for me. If you want to tell me something important, email me directly. But only if it's current. I don't need to know anything about the 80s. Rin

Posted by: Rin at October 16, 2008 01:10 PM (f8xXa)

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Or, perhaps, take a walk.

To do either of those things, though, I'd have to get dressed. Which means taking a shower. And that sounds like an overwhelming endeavor.

I hate shaving in the shower.

And the bathtub doesn't work, and we can't afford to fix it.

And my car doesn't work, and we can't afford to fix it.

And the sun is too bright, but we can't afford window treatments. And I could work something up with kraft paper and rice paper, but I'm too short. And we can't afford a higher stepstool than the one we've got.

The estrogen had better get here soon, or I may just go back to bed for the rest of the week.

Posted by: Attila Girl at 10:00 AM | No Comments | Add Comment
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I knew my mother was considering "re-homing" her dog—my beloved Mandy—because she (the woman) is 72 and may not be able to keep up with her.

What I did not realize until a few days ago is that because of breed prejudice, my mom doesn't consider her adoptable, and is considering putting her down.

I think the dog could use a little training, but the thought of losing her that way breaks my heart.

I'll obviously be making some phone calls this week, to see if I can find an enlightened shelter in Southern California; it's time to snap out of this. I may not be able to "keep" the dog, but I won't see her killed if I can help it.

Naturally, I live in a condominium that limits the size of pets. And my husband does not like Mandy; he refers to her as "that thing."

Posted by: Attila Girl at 09:30 AM | No Comments | Add Comment
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