i hit my sexual peak during harold night...

[GoldDustWoman]

Be the ball. Of yarn.

Tonight I picked up a (borrowed) crochet hook for the first time in about twentyodd years at least. I realized something that I've been incapable of realizing no matter who's been telling me (and it's been coming from every quarter, believe me)

.....don't think.

Analyzing a grannysquare makes it look like shit.

I'm going to buy me a hook and yarn. Immediately. Gotta be cheaper than therapy and healthier than booze.

 

[GoldDustWoman]

You either deeply deeply care about this or you don't. I find it fascinating.

From
Major League Baseball Official Rules

A BALK is an illegal act by the pitcher with a runner or runners on base, entitling all runners to advance one base.
...
8.05 (official rule governing balks)
If there is a runner, or runners, it is a balk when_ (a) The pitcher, while touching his plate, makes any motion naturally associated with his pitch and fails to make such delivery; If a left-handed or right-handed pitcher swings his free foot past the back edge of the pitcher's rubber, he is required to pitch to the batter except to throw to second base on a pick off play. (b) The pitcher, while touching his plate, feints a throw to first base and fails to complete the throw; (c) The pitcher, while touching his plate, fails to step directly toward a base before throwing to that base; Requires the pitcher, while touching his plate, to step directly toward a base before throwing to that base. If a pitcher turns or spins off of his free foot without actually stepping or if he turns his body and throws before stepping, it is a balk. A pitcher is to step directly toward a base before throwing to that base but does not require him to throw (except to first base only) because he steps. It is possible, with runners on first and third, for the pitcher to step toward third and not throw, merely to bluff the runner back to third; then seeing the runner on first start for second, turn and step toward and throw to first base. This is legal. However, if, with runners on first and third, the pitcher, while in contact with the rubber, steps toward third and then immediately and in practically the same motion "wheels" and throws to first base, it is obviously an attempt to deceive the runner at first base, and in such a move it is practically impossible to step directly toward first base before the throw to first base, and such a move shall be called a balk. Of course, if the pitcher steps off the rubber and then makes such a move, it is not a balk. (d) The pitcher, while touching his plate, throws, or feints a throw to an unoccupied base, except for the purpose of making a play; (e) The pitcher makes an illegal pitch; A quick pitch is an illegal pitch. Umpires will judge a quick pitch as one delivered before the batter is reasonably set in the batter's box. With runners on base the penalty is a balk; with no runners on base, it is a ball. The quick pitch is dangerous and should not be permitted. (f) The pitcher delivers the ball to the batter while he is not facing the batter; (g) The pitcher makes any motion naturally associated with his pitch while he is not touching the pitcher's plate; (h) The pitcher unnecessarily delays the game; (i) The pitcher, without having the ball, stands on or astride the pitcher's plate or while off the plate, he feints a pitch; (j) The pitcher, after coming to a legal pitching position, removes one hand from the ball other than in an actual pitch, or in throwing to a base; (k) The pitcher, while touching his plate, accidentally or intentionally drops the ball; (l) The pitcher, while giving an intentional base on balls, pitches when the catcher is not in the catcher's box; (m)The pitcher delivers the pitch from Set Position without coming to a stop. PENALTY: The ball is dead, and each runner shall advance one base without liability to be put out, unless the batter reaches first on a hit, an error, a base on balls, a hit batter, or otherwise, and all other runners advance at least one base, in which case the play proceeds without reference to the balk. APPROVED RULING: In cases where a pitcher balks and throws wild, either to a base or to home plate, a runner or runners may advance beyond the base to which he is entitled at his own risk. APPROVED RULING: A runner who misses the first base to which he is advancing and who is called out on appeal shall be considered as having advanced one base for the purpose of this rule. Umpires should bear in mind that the purpose of the balk rule is to prevent the pitcher from deliberately deceiving the base runner. If there is doubt in the umpire's mind, the "intent" of the pitcher should govern. However, certain specifics should be borne in mind: (a) Straddling the pitcher's rubber without the ball is to be interpreted as intent to deceive and ruled a balk. (b) With a runner on first base the pitcher may make a complete turn, without hesitating toward first, and throw to second. This is not to be interpreted as throwing to an unoccupied base.

Well-known MLB umpire Ron Luciano never in his entire career called a balk because he didn't understand the rule.

An INFIELD FLY is a fair fly ball (not including a line drive nor an attempted bunt) which can be caught by an infielder with ordinary effort, when first and second, or first, second and third bases are occupied, before two are out. The pitcher, catcher and any outfielder who stations himself in the infield on the play shall be considered infielders for the purpose of this rule. When it seems apparent that a batted ball will be an Infield Fly, the umpire shall immediately declare "Infield Fly" for the benefit of the runners. If the ball is near the baselines, the umpire shall declare "Infield Fly, if Fair." The ball is alive and runners may advance at the risk of the ball being caught, or retouch and advance after the ball is touched, the same as on any fly ball. If the hit becomes a foul ball, it is treated the same as any foul. If a declared Infield Fly is allowed to fall untouched to the ground, and bounces foul before passing first or third base, it is a foul ball. If a declared Infield Fly falls untouched to the ground outside the baseline, and bounces fair before passing first or third base, it is an Infield Fly. On the infield fly rule the umpire is to rule whether the ball could ordinarily have been handled by an infielder not by some arbitrary limitation such as the grass, or the base lines. The umpire must rule also that a ball is an infield fly, even if handled by an outfielder, if, in the umpire's judgment, the ball could have been as easily handled by an infielder. The infield fly is in no sense to be considered an appeal play. The umpire's judgment must govern, and the decision should be made immediately. When an infield fly rule is called, runners may advance at their own risk. If on an infield fly rule, the infielder intentionally drops a fair ball, the ball remains in play despite the provisions of Rule 6.05 (L). The infield fly rule takes precedence.

...
(infield fly rule and its flipside)
6.05
A batter is out when_ ...(e) An Infield Fly is declared...(l) An infielder intentionally drops a fair fly ball or line drive, with first, first and second, first and third, or first, second and third base occupied before two are out. The ball is dead and runner or runners shall return to their original base or bases; APPROVED RULING: In this situation, the batter is not out if the infielder permits the ball to drop untouched to the ground, except when the Infield Fly rule applies.

Crazy, huh?

FIELDER'S CHOICE is the act of a fielder who handles a fair grounder and, instead of throwing to first base to put out the batter runner, throws to another base in an attempt to put out a preceding runner. The term is also used by scorers (a) to account for the advance of the batter runner who takes one or more extra bases when the fielder who handles his safe hit attempts to put out a preceding runner; (b) to account for the advance of a runner (other than by stolen base or error) while a fielder is attempting to put out another runner; and (c) to account for the advance of a runner made solely because of the defensive team's indifference (undefended steal).

In other words, No RBI for you!

What's not to love about this game!

 

[GoldDustWoman]

I have to go back to work really early. Fuck.

My friend the Magazine Editor turned Talking Head is on E!'s 101 Most Awesome Something or Others. He looks unnaturally tan.

My mother had an interesting comment which I won't publish (at the risk of generating unintentional offense) but if I did, would really merit her own half hour show, it was so fucking (and fairly unintentionally) hilarious. I told her this and she insisted that the show be on the radio.

Julie once told me that I should do my mother as a character more often. She's probably right.

There may be a few things worth breaking the improv-hiatus for. That's one of them, Mom-prov. There's a few more. Solo-prov, two-person prov with people I find completely awesome, a couple of other things.

Oh by the way read this. It's fucking brilliant and insightful and just wonderful.

I just looked at my photo in the Pizza Journal and, you know, I don't really know if I like those sunglasses or that sweater nearly as much as I thought. Well, maybe the sweater.

Someone just used the words "archeotypes" in connection with the Breakfast Club on the E! Top 101 Famous Yadda Yaddas. Arch-e-o-types.

Partial List of my All Time Favorite Movies: (no particular order)

1. Blues Brothers
2. Sleeper
3. Bull Durham
4. sex, lies and videotape
5. Murder by Death
6. Breakfast Club
7. South Park (The Movie)
8. Gone with the Wind
9. Willie Wonka and the Chocolate Factory
10. Goodfellas
11. Mighty Wind
12. Philadelphia Story

I'm having a hard time narrowing down and now I'm off on "Movies I really like but I can't prioritize properly and I can hear you groaning jeez I can't believe what terrible taste she has.....!"

ok I'm off.

I wasn't gonna say a thing because i'm always anticipating all kinds of fucking chaos and what not, but i am getting a tiny bit excited about my little trip next week shhhh! of course i managed to stick my passport in my suitcase so i don't forget it, which probably means i'll end up checking the damn thing. oh good times! i bought a luggage tag, also unmarked and inside the suitcase! i'm hilarious! shhh!

 

[GoldDustWoman]

Vicious Cycle

Week 3 of chemically induced hypoglycemia is kind of like that oxygen-deprivation test in "An Officer and a Gentleman" I think, where they get progressively stupider at doing menial tasks but get so caught up in focusing on them they don't realize how out of it they are getting.

Like now. A horse-choking amount of "Glucophage" combined with almost zero food is making me almost psychotically dumb. Paralytic. Like I know I should leave this chair, but I can't. I should eat some food, but I'm strangely not at all hungry for anything.

This is kind of like being high. Weird. Except I'm at work and seriously not cool about this.

Well. Huh. This is weird. Seriously considering skipping that "weight watchers" meeting right about now and foraging for a snack bar. Cause god knows you can't eat before a Weight Watchers meeting, that extra ounce of food causes you to instantly gain five pounds.

Typing takes an awful lot of focus.

Welcome to my brain. Brain!

Okay, this is fucked up. For real.

I just found one of the crappy snack bars in my desk and I'm sucking it back just for sanity's sake. You know you're in trouble when your lifeline is something termed "Fudgy." Not even chocolate or fudge but "fudgy."

Foul.

Off for a sandwich and some greenery. Sigh. Back from the Twilight Zone!

 

[GoldDustWoman]

I can't wait to get the fuck out of here!

The idea of never returning is sorely tempting. But of course, I'd still have me to contend with.

 

[GoldDustWoman]

Fuck me. Will I learn?

Out of a sheer burst of unilateral (I'm sure), irrational (naturally), "who the hell is feeding you these days" guilt, I've done a disproportionately large amount of Fresh Direct shopping for myself, including a large amount of healthy convenience-food for the future-ex to eat while he's putatively cat-sitting. And a bunch of stuff that I'll presumably cook into something fabulous to "leave" in the fridge before I leave. Like I need two pounds of salmon, two pounds of chicken thighs, awful canned sardines (bachelor crap food!), etc.

I also shopped for and purchased his birthday present (snazzy new shoes I had to talk him into because he's a fucking martyr about buying certain new things) a month in advance (his birthday being exactly one day before mine, deep in November).

Life goes on and I continue to be a schmuck.

But the litterbox will be clean and the printer jammed when I get home, guaranteed. And there will be a terribly artsy, ornately-rendered pen-and-ink "Welcome Home Hon" note pinned on the fridge, gorgeous but huge enough to impede refrigerator access. In which I will find odd and annoying bits of leftovers, and flat seltzer, and hopefully one full, unopened cold bottle of seltzer. Which would be lovely, indeed, and possible.

Touch the Campari and die, that's all I'm saying.

As I type this, I envision spotting the empty Campari bottle sitting by the wine rack as I throw down my bags, and the shit fit beginning.

And so it goes.

 

[GoldDustWoman]

I'm a little buzzed. But I have some thoughts.

I wish I could contribute something more of value to the people caught up in the apparent Improv chaos in our midst. This is a community of people who has done so much for me, in many ways.

You are talented, hard working people, and I have great admiration and respect for you. Good things, I am sure, will happen for you all.

I wish I could be anything more than supportive from the wings.

I wish I didn't miss Improvising so much.

I'm glad to be a small, productive part of the theater for now.

I'm enjoying what I'm doing right now. I enjoy the people that I'm interacting with, supporting, a great deal. I'm learning, watching.

I hope to be more visible in the future, as a creative force, so to speak.

I am wiser. I am older. I am patient.

Interesting.

I'll see you all in the morning.

Oh wait, it is morning, isn't it. Somewhere in the world, anyway, it must be, isn't that the old joke. But it's definitely later than I thought.

 

[GoldDustWoman]

Not one, but two.

I was just chatting about this with someone on the phone last night. Not that I believe in this shit, but sometimes it's unintentionally hilarious, descriptive, a little accurate, whetever.

Except I hate emerald green. Bah. So not my color.

Scorpio Profile

Astrologically speaking, the Sun stands for your inner nature and stamps your innermost character. With slinky Scorpio as your sign, the Sun blazed in a passionate water sign in the zodiac on your birthday. Scorpio, the eighth sign of the Zodiac, is feminine, ruled by fierce Mars, the warrior planet and dark Pluto, the planet of transformation. A fixed (strong and solid) sign, Scorpio governs will and authority. Scorpio people are passionate and emotional, with very deep feelings. Although you are a loyal and dedicated friend, you are fiercely competitive, subject to fits of vindictive jealousy and can be quite manipulative in pursuit of your goals.

Symbols for Scorpio are the scorpion, a ground-dwelling killer with a poisonous sting in its tail and the eagle, a far-seeing predator soaring above petty problems into the spiritual sky. Scorpio's real involvement is not primarily based on love or even pleasure, but on the control and understanding of human emotions and the role they play in the mysterious processes of life and death. Though you may not spend your life pondering the mysteries of life and death, you are inquisitive and probing, fascinated with how things and people work. Your mental and physical powers of recuperation are remarkable — and truly evolved (eagle) Scorpios can learn to use their power to help and inspire others.

Stamina and Tenacity

Determined Scorpio can be rather stubborn and resistant to imposed changes. In many ways this is a plus, for it gives you the stamina to accomplish things in life, due to your tenacity. On the surface you may seem easy-going, congenial, and gregarious, but you are also extremely tenacious with a need to manipulate and control your situations.

Keys to your success are a strong will and the ability to get to the bottom of things. You want answers and will doggedly persist until you get them.

The fiery energy of Mars shines out when you are enthusiastic; it attracts and inspires others. Your intensity can be overwhelming, but also subtle, for your considerable energy is not aroused or employed just to have something to do — as is often the case with Aries, the other Mars-ruled personality. Unlike Aries, Scorpio is not openly combative, unless it becomes necessary. Your privacy is tightly protected, so others only get to know you up to a point. You may not show any sign of inner struggle, but when you are after something (or someone) your determination is fierce — and should you not be favoured in the outcome, you are neither a willing nor a gracious loser. Nevertheless, you are not arrogant, being genuinely interested in others and what they have to say, although you often exhibit a self-sufficiency which implies there isn't much you don't already know.

Deepest Mysteries

The transformative energy of Pluto motivates you, as you delve into the deepest mysteries of life. Whether you are trying to get to the bottom of a murder, or some heinous crime, or whether you are saving a life through your surgical skills, or pursuing a meditative magical mystery tour, you characteristically seek to uncover the truth or to transform raw materials into things of great power and beauty. Relationships are not exempt from this probing, so anyone involved with you must prepare for profound changes in themselves, their mysterious partner and the relationship itself.

Emotions govern your first reactions to every experience in life. Although instinctive emotions generate the strongest motivations for your behaviour, you are not prone to wearing your heart on your sleeve (unlike the other Water Signs, those feeling-oriented Cancerians and Pisceans). You need to dominate relationships and rarely display your true feelings, holding back something of yourself, even at your most open and communicative moments. Although you may not intentionally set out to be mysterious, you manage to appear enigmatic anyway. You hate being crossed or manipulated, and can react to such treatment with sarcasm and vengefulness.

Strong Constitution

Scorpio rules the reproductive organs and excretory system, so those with Scorpio active in their charts suffer headaches, infections and fevers, along with various illnesses to do with what used to be called the secret parts. You have, however, a strong constitution and can usually overcome your problems, many of which are of your own making, due to your clandestine activities.

Scorpio colours are red, black, midnight blue, and emerald green. Scorpio rules metallic iron and your birthstone is the topaz. Topaz, one of the hardest minerals, cannot be cut with a knife. It is yet another representation of the impenetrable Scorpio nature. Scorpio flowers include the anemone, heather, and gardenia.

 

[GoldDustWoman]

sunday afternoon work whine

I can't believe I'm sitting at work on a Sunday night in a freezing cold office with my VCR unset and without an original thought in my head, eating warm-ish blueberry yogurt and playing stupid computer word games FOR FUN so I can then go back to ANOTHER computer and do work.

This is the best I could come up with. No wonder I'm not funny. The best bit I've done all week was in the green room at 1030 AM yesterday.

And salvation appears in the form of a New Jerseyite and fellow law-slave ringing my proverbial chimes! (Well, literal, I guess. Cell-phonically.)

Nobody loves a work-whiner. It's been scientifically proven by the Gallop Poll.

:banana:

 

[GoldDustWoman]

Stereotypical Girl Things Debunked!

Perhaps this should be a journal, or an Op-Ed, or a humorous essay, or just an ongoing witty little bitty bit.

Whatever. It's my copyright, suckas.

#47: Cuddling.

Cuddling is overrated.

I mean, come on, what's the deal with that? (Saturday I was in a room with several standups doing stereo-Seinfeld. Unpretty, I tell you. But as soon as any one utters the words "What's the deal...." you know, the voice changes.....yadda yadda. Anyhoo.)

I hate cuddling, personally. Specifically, the lengthy lets-fall-asleep-in-eachothers-arms-after-we-do-it that's the stuff of movie scenes. The stuff that chicks allegedly can't get enough of, moan and whine about. The stuff that guys hold up as something that drives them insane. Probably on principle, I suppose.

Now, they're both probably 25% right and 25% wrong.

Girls, do you really find that comfy in real life, draped over a sticky/sweaty/hairy chest on your wrong sleeping side, positioned 180 degrees away from a direct drool drip once they (inevitably) conk out? With your arm either awkwardly trapped under his head or mashed up against your boob? Why feel compelled to love the snuggle? You know things are wonderful, why sacrifice postcoital comfort, and thus the best sleep EVER, for hypothetical style?

And guys, admit it. Please. You're as secretly snuggly as the gals. As long as it's for a limited period of time and not the linchpin of a giant issue. Most girls get energized after doing the nasty; most guys like to fade into 200-thread count oblivion, with a sweet smooth teddy-bear substitute clutched to their chest - for a little while.

The key is timing. Fade into the cuddle - either lusty/sweaty/ohmygod gazing and body-kissing and tracing fingers over each other, or sweet/romantic/soft focus nuzzling, horizontal hugs and longer squishier lip locks.

The key - constant, gentle motion. Slow motion is fine, but some motion must be present. This will work. Trust me.

Do not get trapped in the cuddle! For the love of G-d, do NOT get trapped in the cuddle!

Brush her hair out of her face. Run your hand over his chest. Smile. Relax.

For three to ten minutes. Fifteen, tops, if you get chatty.

Then, feel free to take your neutral corners and hit the sack. Sometimes I like to hit the shower; maybe you do too. Or pick up the remote - I'm not insulted, trust me. (Unless you put on Leno, that I can't abide.) I can't fall asleep without the TV on, personally. And I have to sleep on my side - the other side. Clutching a pillow.

(That being said, maintaining a shred of under blanket non-sexual body contact may or may not fall under your definition of "cuddling." The hand hold, the leg stretch. You know. This, I will submit, is cool.)

Next Installment: I Don't Really Like Chocolate All That Much!

 

[GoldDustWoman]

Hurried update

Headache: Large

Work: Undone

Slimfast: Warm and vile

Temperature: Subzero

Spousal anger level: High

Misdirected text messages: One

Correlation of above two events: Zero

Shopping bags: Two

Need to return items to Conways: Overwhelming

Need to go to Bloomie Nails: Also overwhelming

Laundry progress: Nonexistent

iPod charge: High

Hours of sleep last night: Five

Hair: Moderately messy

Packing: Undone

Preparation for evening: Underwhelming

Stomach: Roiling

Nail length: Moderate

Skin: Broken out

Cramps: Moderately severe

Items on Duane Reade list: Ten

 

[GoldDustWoman]

Update update

Physical state: Dizzy

Laundry: Damp

Spousal anger level: High

Passive aggression: Impressive

Manicure: Decent

Pedicure: Retouched

First-degree burns from pedicure: Subsided

Eyebrows: Decent

iPod charge: Low

iPod update: Undone

Packing: Undone

Duane Reade items purchased: None

Bills: Unpaid

Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for dinner: Delicious

Soy milk flavor: Low fat chocolate

Need for water: High

Need for sleep: High

Need for clean underwear: Fulfilled

Unreturned phone calls: Four

Boxes of Goldfish crackers: Four

 

[GoldDustWoman]

I'm gonna finish packing any minute now, I swear! Fuck!

Edit:

I forgot some stuff. And I have too many shirts. Oh well.
I have no attention span today. None at all.
Crap.
But I did just buy tickets to a show!
Oh fun.

I am a crap traveler, people.

I'll report when I return, should all go well! Of course I guess I'll report if it doesn't go well, too. Whatever. But it should go well.

Seriously, it's a vacation.

 

[GoldDustWoman]

British Update

London: Fantastic

burns1: Fantastic

Internet Access: Expensive

iPod charge: Running down thanks to burns1

Weather: Surprisingly good

Head: Spinning

Underground trains: Surprisingly tiny

British improv: Hilarious

Meat flavoured potato chips: Awesome

Pizza: Repulsive

Jerry Springer the Opera: Spectacular

Greenwich: Charming

Piccadilly: Times-Square-Esque

Cabs: Huge, Pricey

Late night cab rides: Wonderful

Beer: Tasty

Chocolate: Really, really good

Smoke levels: Incredibly high

Westminster Abbey, Parliament: Breathtaking

Victoria & Albert Museum: Wonderful, gaudy (ever seen the silver collection?)

Stairs: Wearing me out

Desire to Leave: Vanishing

Photos: To Follow

 

[GoldDustWoman]

Awake, overtired, useless. Photos loaded but disorganized (not even counting the amazingly scenic photos from the train ride this morning, taken on my film camera). Bleary eyed, but somehow can't sleep. Perhaps I just don't want the whole daily solitary grind to start again.

See you all (virtually) in the morning, once more.

 

[GoldDustWoman]

London Calling...

(I am not still on London time. I am on Person whose Medication has Knocked her on her Ass Time. Another story....)

I'll try not to bore you guys with a full tilt narrative and all the damn photos (link will be provided for the truly curious or bored at work). This may not even be chronologically correct, it being 5 in the morning and all.

First off, don't let Burns's self-deprecating British wit fool you (see here). He was quite the tour guide and a great friend to hang around with, especially (which he is too much of a gentleman to mention) when I was occasionally feeling like crap and had to take it down a notch in my type-A tourist behavior and slow down, grab a cab, crash out at the hotel, or whatever. But he totally knows, and loves, this town, for real.

And I take great delight in completely corrupting him with the likes of "Cracked Out" (which really needed to be turned down on the train ride out of London!), sharing "Killgore" on DVD and happily deconstructing British improv (Yes, sweetheart, that IS pimping!)

And those moments of "Fucking hell, where are we" led to some moments of great discovery and enjoyment for me. Like, laughing at the bitchy bus conductor and getting to ride a real double-decker bus (For about ten seconds, mind you). Or window-browsing lots of tony antiquey-shops in Knightsbride near Harrods, and taking lots of ridiculous photos of rows of charming as hell brick townhouses that I could definitely live in. With the occasional "Lord So and So lived here, 1768" plaques on them.

For you see, New York, I have become completely smitten with another city....And I never thought that would happen. Fallen head over heels. I'm sure given more opportunities, I'd see the warts, the flaws, but all I want to do now is fly back and get more, explore it and get to know it and hold it close.

And even though I'm beating myself up for what I missed, I did get to see and do a fair amount. And had a hell of a good time doing it.

Hotel rooms are so tiny! Usually I take a photo, but there wasn't room for the flash to go off (Ba dum bum.) But I did snap the tube stop in Kensington.

The V&A museum was wonderful, I really loved it since I love decorative-arts stuff. Here's the Dale Chihuly chandelier at the entrance:

Harrods was fun and they let me in with jeans. Browsed the handbags section, jewelry. Got some goodies at the Food Court, which is amazing, including figs as big as your head. Looked at weird fruit from around the world (which I later snapped up in the supermarket, along with fudge-flavored yogurt. I so love this country. Fudge isn't chocolate by the way, it's more like dulce de leche. Love, love, love).

Piccadilly Circus has a little bit of the Times Square about it, but just a little. London will never let itself be completely consumed with americana, despite the fast-food incursions and billboards. Not when the streets tell you which way to cross, the tube trains are freaking upholstered and contain signs sternly warning you to be polite, and....hell, I just can't explain it. It's just different, resolutely so, and has been for hundreds of years before we were just a pile of trees and rocks. Anyway, inarticulate attempt to make a point will stop here. Look at the pretty pictures.

Can you believe how awesome the weather is? Where's the fucking rain?!

Got half-price tickets for Jerry Springer: The Opera at the Leicester Square ticket booth near Piccadilly. Had the Worst Pizza Ever for lunch. Explained patiently to Burns what a salad was in our country. (My homage to Pizza Month. And really the only shit meal I had in London.)

Saw Big Ben, and Parliament and Westminster Abbey from the outside (again, my bad for not reading the damn tourbook more closely). Even so....for a non-traveling American, the sense of history still knocks you over pretty damn hard. Took lots of photos of the amazingly intricate stonework and such. And the one lone protestor. Sorry, buddy.

Grabbed a boat up the Thames. Yes, touristy. But I fucking love boat rides, so there. Passed by the mega-ferris wheel London Eye, and saw lots of London from the water - the Tower Bridge and the Tower, Saatchi Gallery, assorted other rail bridges, and had the droniest tour guide in the world. The tip solicitation went unheeded and we took the train back.

A shot from the boat that didn't involve a random tourist's head, Well just a small one:

Went to Greenwich - home of zero degrees longitude. Pretty little town - Royal Observatory, park, pubs, bookstores, flea-market with crafty stuff and incredibly dire candy (that I could've sworn I took home with me but can't locate. Ahem.) Here's the Cutty Sark, docked there:

The skyscrapers visible from Canary Wharf (did I remember that right?) were a big surprise to Burns, as very "un-London."

Soho Chinese was fabulous. Burns made me take this geeky photo of him because of the "Werewolves of London" song (What a tourist! Ha!):

Not that red wine and crispy duck don't make me happy too:

(Oh yeah, didn't we see the roving camera crew in Chinatown too? Or was that just the guy who commented on how fabulous I was?)

I've got no photos of the Comedy Store or the Jerry Springer musical, because that's just lame. People love to snack in the theater in London, I've noticed, unlike here.

The Comedy Store was amazing, by the way. Lots of these guys were on "Whose Line" but this show was outstanding. Smart, funny players all around. Kind of had an "Assscat" Sunday-night feel to it, really. First half was all short-form stuff, second half was an improvised musical. Pricey but totally worth it. They've got a similar theater setup to the UCB (thrust, damn pillars), they do improv, stand up and teach workshops, and are having their 25th anniversary year. And yeah, we were total improv geeks. I left with a poster to be framed (thanks!) I also spent a few minutes in the ladies room contemplating their next open mike night posted on the wall....

Meant to catch up on stuff Monday, to make up for being pretty zonked on Sunday. But alas, the forces of crime conspired to piss me off!

For fuck's sake I'm (a) a New Yorker (b) a cop's kid (c) an ex-prosecutor. How the fuck do I get MY bag carelessly lifted? By being a dumb ass, that's how. And the forces of good somehow watched over me, and sent me home with my bag intact that a lovely middle-aged man (wishing to remain not a witness) who stopped the theft mid-stream recovered for me.

Scene of the Crime:

Hit the British Museum. A lot like the Met....until you realize that these folks over here actually went out and conquered these places, scooped up the stuff, and kept it for their own! Imperialism Rocks! Checked out the Rosetta Stone, got some Christmas cards at the gift shop.

Does this man ever stop smoking?

Got the obligatory pub food - fish, chips, sausage. Not bad, although I plan to live a fine full life without HP sauce. Won 2 pounds in a pub slot machine.

Am definitely hooked on "London Pride" and pub shots of actual alcohol are totally weak. (The sushi-bar drinks were pretty nice, though. I'm sure it will all be on that documentary film of me.)

I know I've overlooked lots of stuff. I'm still coughing up cigarette smoke from the various pubs and bars we stopped in. I've left out lots of the typical touristy photos, I know. And a bunch of my photos didn't come out (curse that digital camera delay and unreliable memory card!) - Buckingham Palace at night from the cab, for example, was glorious.

And I missed lots of stuff that I wanted to see in London. And I'm sure I'll be back.

They're gearing up for Christmas already, trees and shiny gold and silver stuff and "plan your party at our pub" and I forgot to buy those Christmas-y mincemeat pies in Harrods that I wanted. Call me a crazy mixed-religion agnostic, but I just melt for all this English holiday crap. (I did get some picturesque cards, though.)

Oh wait - Ridiculously charming houses!! (I took loads of photos of buildings for no other reason than me swooning over them. Sigh....)

Oh wait - Taxis are cool, so very cool, by the way! Huge! Pricey but huge! The drivers have intercoms to chat with you, or not.

Oh - Ham and mustard crisps are way better than roast beef and mustard crisps. But I escaped without ingesting prawn crisps! Ha!

Randomness is now taking over, so I'm off.

Cheers, mate.

 

[GoldDustWoman]

For the truly bored.....

As promised.

More of my trip photos.

Final Snackfood Thoughts: (through non-blind-taste-testing with slightly unwilling Best Friend who'd just been bribed with one of my Crunchy bars, declaring it the best candy bar ever as I myself had done!)
Roast Chicken Crisps: Taste like they've been dipped in dry Lipton soup mix, or boullion cubes
Sweet Thai Chilli Crisps: Not bad, a bit like Barbecue chips with a kick.
Wheat Snacks, Bacon Flavour: Resembling "cat treats," kind of generically smoky taste.
Prawn Cocktail Crisps: Ketchup-y with barely a shrimp overtone.

These, however, won hands down:

Ham & Mustard (at the V&A):

Roast Beef & Mustard (at a Camden pub):

Nothing else to report. I'm fairly whacked out on medication, right now. Catching up on undone work. Forgot to get paid this week, a sorely sad mistake. Eating bad Chinese take out. Severely dissatisfied on the home front. Yet to open my weekend's mail. Yet to catch up on some emails. Planning holidays, birthdays.

Wondering where life is heading, to be honest.

 

[GoldDustWoman]

Love All the People

Just finished reading the preface to this book.

Not many things go straight to my heart, but this has.

How could you know?
And what business do I have trying to do this?

Unbelievable.

 

[GoldDustWoman]

You want angry? Angry it shall be.

What the fuck?

I swear to God, I am a good person. I thought that was enough.

How fucking wrong was I.

Never, ever again. Never.

Words just won't do it.

I bet this isn't staying up wrong, it was just the closest scratch-pad at the time.

 

[GoldDustWoman]

What we learned in college

"Is just boy. Do not cry over boy. Is just boy."
(muttering, shaking head...Actual pronunciation was "Eees just boy.")

- wise Polish lady laboratory technician