A blind date during a lunar eclipse the night the Red Sox win the World Series.

Now that doesn't happen every day.

So, I like him. He's smart and witty and incredibly well-read and very, very much my, uh, "type." I, on the other hand, was nervous and kind of dumb and talked too much. Less good. At the end of the night, I wasn't sure if we were in second date territory or not, but I was cautiously optimistic. A little while ago, I got a sweet email from him and Date Two is in the works. Yay!

Three exclusive tracks from the Beachwood Date Night Soundtrack:

Blue Oyster Cult "Don't Fear the Reaper"
"Straight Tequila Night" John Anderson (save as a .wav file and then change it later to .mp3)
OK Go "You're So Damn Hot"

Puppy Power

$400 and 2 vet trips later, Maizy and Wilbur seem to be getting stronger. They're playful and adorable and I rilly rilly rilly want to keep em. Aw, Mom, can I?! Huh? Can I, pretty please? Look, you'd have to have a heart of stone to be able to resist this:

Dewey the Giant Asscat, on the other hand, is horrified by the entire situation. He's got 20 pounds on the little dudes but they still scare him silly. Maizy wandered into his territory last night and he knocked her across the room with his claws. Jag.

So my babies are home alone today (locked safely away in the living room) (I hope) for the first time since Sunday, and I'm a bit anxious. Lunch today will involve a train hop to the homestead, I think, for food and cuddles.

Speaking of cuddles (I hope, some more), I have a date tonight with the Tall Drink of Hottness. It's been a while since I've had butterflies before a date, which I will interpret as a good sign. His phone voice is totally rowr.

The Ferrari leaves for LA in 5 days. Not that anyone's counting.

My two new roommates

...look like this:

Except smaller. My brother's dog had a litter of ten pups 5 weeks ago, and she makes Joan Crawford look like a good mom. Last week she decided she'd had enough of that whole "nursing" thing, so it was kibble or starve. The two runts were looking into the starve option, so I brought them home to fatten them up for a couple of weeks.

The smallest one, Wilbur, weighs less than two pounds and spent the day on an IV at the vet yesterday. Today I have to make sure he eats every two hours and stays on the warming blanket. Being at work would have made that tricky, so my boss gave me another day off.

I think I have fleas.

Fredbeck does his best impression of a serial killer

Seeing Decibully is probably a little like it must have been to see Death Cab back in 1997, or Uncle Tupelo in '86. Small club, small crowd, and you feel like you're the only ones in on this enormous, fantastic secret. "Tables Turn" is one of my favoritest songs ever, and some of the new stuff they played last night is gonna be right up there, you can tell. On one new song, my Yummy Bearded Keyboard Dude played the accordion and I nearly passed out with lust. Accordion players are our precious. We loves our precious, we do, we do.

The opening band, Shearwater, was a perfect warm up, too. Halfway through their very pretty, dreamy first number, the violinist suddenly leapt up and slashed out this violent and utterly rocking solo, scaring the bejeezus out of everyone in the room. Startled hipsters = comedy gold.

On our way out, Wendi, Fredbeck & I popped into the photobooth and what came out was this:


I'm not sure what's going on in the second picture, but I'm open to guesses.

* * * * *
Check out my Mr. Picassohead and then make your own.

* * * * *
Yesterday's Tall Drink of Hottness thinks I am cute also and we are definitely going on a date. (NOTE TO SELF: EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!) As always, I will keep you posted on further developments. Especially if they should involve nookie.

* * * * *
Happy National S-S-S-S-Stuttering Awareness Day, everybody!

* * * * *
More Vegas wedding p-p-pics are now here, courtesy of Wendi. I love this one of my parents.

Aw.

Johnny Walker is not your friend.

My date with Chadtastic? Big fun, friends and neighbors! We met at a fancyass whiskey tasting, in which I tasted much whiskey and got much wasted. Hilarity ensued. The bummer is, there was absotively no sparkage whatsoever between me and The Chad. Sad but true. Also, I smoked a cigar, which totally doesn't count with the no-smoking thing. But then I smoked several cigarettes, which dammit. Fuckity fuck! Wens, you are taking this pack and keeping it away from me tonight.

[Tonight! Decibully! At the Bottle! Yummy Bearded Keyboard Dude! Hoo-hah!]

Anyhoodle, Chadtastic didn't land in the "people I must makeout with" category, but this tall drink of hottness might:



He's got an ad up on Nerve, which sucks a dong since I can't afford frigging contact lenses right now much less stupid personals credits. Hey, you know what's good? Free stuff. So I put up this MC yesterday instead. You know, because of the free. And good lord you will never believe this but it actually worked. I got an email from him last night. Just imagine: I could have a hot date with a date who's actually hot. Tres excitement, my little boobie-coopers.

Listen here: Decibully "On the Way to Your Hotel" and Decibully "Do I?"

a rose by any other name would probably still be a dick

I'm going on a date tonight with Chadtastic. Judging by the emails we've exchanged, the kid is wicked smart. I'm only a teensy bit concerned that he has the same name as both my ex-husband and Wendi's evil ex-boyfriend. It could be worse, I guess. His name could be "Mark." Never trust a Mark if you know what's good for you; it can only lead to trouble. And don't even get me started on "Larry." Maybe I should see if I can call Chadtastic by his Ghetto Name instead.

Tick tock. 82 hours without a ciggie and this is the luckiest guy in the world:



I wrote a new poem today. I hope you like it.

your skin is so smooth
between my lips
your flavor fills my mouth
you intoxicate me
my heart beats faster
i am tingling from head to toe
i cannot get enough
nothing else in the whole world matters
but you
right here
right now
this ecstasy is everything
i ever needed
i love you, nicorette

ONE MORE THING
Courtesy of Catherine's Pita, a new Har Mar song that will make you do the Cubicle Boogie. Here's "DUI."

Flick! Ahhhhhh.

So I quit smoking. Have I mentioned that yet? I was up to nearly a pack a day too, so clearly this was a smart move. Like the Ben Lee song says, Cigarettes Will Kill You. I just wish I could stop gnawing on the leg of this table for a minute. I miss you, Nicotine. Sweet nectar of life. Quick, someone run and get me a cheesecake.

2 songs for Quitters Like Me:
The Thrills "Deckchairs and Cigarettes"
and Death Cab "Steadier Footing."

Plus two more songs I like, because I run this show, dammit.
"Celebrity Skin," Hole
White Stripes, "It's True We Love One Another"

Caught in the Crossfire

My boyfriend Jon Stewart rips Tucker "10 Pounds of Shit in a 5 Pound Fannypack" Carlson a new one in the bestest interview evs. Go to Media Matters posthaste and read the transcript and/or watch the video. Or download the incredibly awesome mp3 instead. It's hilarious to hear these CNN shit-flinging monkeys claim that a show on Comedy Central needs to be harder-hitting. And then Jon Stewart calls Tucker a dick. Hee.

(via stereogum and Media Matters)

I believe this situation calls for a little Stealer's Wheel, my friends.

Also, just because:
Kings of Leon - "Genius"
Kick it old skool with Salt N Pepa - "Push It"
Twee is the new black. Sprites "I Go Crazy"

a day early, a few dollars short.

This is my most excellent brother, B.



On Thursday, he got married.



To Nicole. In Vegas.



I am pleased to report that a good time was had by all. And by all, I mean me.



Take a looksee at the rest of the wedding/Vegas pics here.

* * * * *
Nothing says "I love you" like cheap costume jewelry. Memo to Crazy Michigan Guy: if you insist on stalking me, at least send something good.

"Jade" "bracelet" retails for $2.99 at Family Dollar.
* * * * *
This is the last cigarette I smoked, 36 hours and 11 minutes ago. God, doesn't it look delicious?

* * * * *
Confidential to Hunter: you are now officially older than dirt. Kisses! Call me!

* * * * *
And last but not least...
Happy Birthday wishes to Office Eye Candy and Hot Married Boyfriend II Dana. Please report immediately for your spanking. Thank you.

I'm Audi 5000.

Off to Vegas for my favorite brother's wedding, back Tuesday with all the details fit for print.

P.S. Happy Early Birthday, Hunter!

Rilo Kiley Follow Up

Some angel has posted Rilo's live cover of "Such Great Heights." Download it now, beeotch.

Flirting for Nerds, and other good stuff to know

Hmmmm. Is it? I think it is. I don't remember seeing anyone hot on the train last night though, so after the rocket scientist debacle, I think we'll just let this one go.

Word of the best book ever continues to spread.

This story gives me the heebs. (Note to Sugar: DO NOT READ TOO MUCH INTO THIS.)

News from my old hood: criminal picks the wrong lady to fuck with.

Hey Wendi! Let's get Mom and Dad to babysit tonight and go to this:

Flirting for Nerds
Early to Bed
5232 N. Sheridan Rd
October 12, 7:30pm

Most of us aren't born flirts.  And if you've ever felt like a nerd for fumbling through potential flirting situations then this class may be for you.  When you flirt well you feel good about yourself and make others feel great!  We'll break down the fundamentals of flirting, getting comfortable with yourself and putting others at ease, reading body language, how to flirt with folks of all genders, sexual and non-sexual flirting, non-cheesy ways to break the ice, and tips & techniques to continue flexing your flirting muscles long after the workshop is over.

Listen to This
My favorite Cursive song, "The Recluse"
Belle & Sebastian yumminess: "She's Losing It"
And finally, I know I gave you the Mouse yesterday, but this song is so diggity-dang great I can't not. "3rd Planet"

One is One Too Many

If my kids were cats, I'd be going to see Saddle Creek band Son, Ambulance at the Empty Bottle tonight. Good thing they aren't, though, because the last thing I need is more frigging cats.

Son, Ambulance "Brown Park"
Son, Ambulance "Maria in Motion"

My girlfriend can outrun your girlfriend

That was one of the best shirts I saw at the Marathon yesterday, worn by an adorable boy carrying a big bunch of flowers who I briefly fantasized was my boyfriend. Then I remembered that even if I did have a boyfriend, I would never run a marathon, and therefore Fictional Boyfriend would have no reason to make up a shirt that cute and stand at the finish line with flowers and cheer for me. So I sat down on the curb and wept quietly for a little while. But then I remembered my new camera phone and I felt much better.

The Marathon was, of course, totally rad. I love those 40,000 crazy fucking lunatics, I really do. After we finished up at the water station in Boystown, Wendi and I hopped a bus to the finish line and parked ourselves at the bottom of the final stretch to cheer on the slower runners. Seeing them catch sight of the finish line was maybe the coolest part. Their reactions ran the gamut: some gritted their teeth with determination, staggering in on agonizing locked-up legs. Some smiled and high fived spectators. One guy even skipped in. Big props to every single one of them for finishing.

Here, few photos from la camera phone:


Setting up the water station. Breaux be cool like dat.


Village People meets Bring It On.


This man just ran 26 miles wearing nothing but a leopard print Speedo and a bow tie. Ballsy!


Crossing the finish line - check out their shadows.


Ow. Putting band-aids on every toe.

Now listen to:
Junior Senior "Move Your Feet"
"YMCA"
Violent Femmes "Blister in the Sun"
Modest Mouse "Gravity Rides Everything"
And it's like you were there. Ta da!

Poor Me

Make a Run For It

On Sunday morning, Wendi, Sugar, and I will be up at the buttcrack of dawn. Or probably more correctly, we'll still be up and just roll on into Boystown in our hoochie mama outfits to hand out water to parched marathon runners. Whichever.

This will be our second stint as volunteer water girls at the Chicago Marathon. And it's honestly one of my favorite days of the year. God knows I could never run 26 miles. I couldn't run 2.6 miles. Maybe I could run .26 miles. Probably not. But it's awesome to see people who can.

The water station we work is an absolute blast. It's in Boystown, so all the hot gay boys are out in force. It's also a runner favorite every year. Cute gay cheerleaders, singing drag queens, everyone in crazy costumes, blaring music, TV cameras all over ... mos def the place to be.

Me, Wendi and Jenna running hard at last year's marathon

The Ferrari: Going, Going, Gone

We met two years ago. He was just coming out of a 6 year relationship and spent the first two months we dated trying to decide if he wanted her back. Turns out, he did, but she was having none of it. That should have sent me screaming for the hills, I know, but there was something about him that made it impossible for me to walk away. It wasn't just the unfreakingbelievable crazy chemistry, either. Mostly, it was the fact that he doesn't think like anyone I've ever met. Every time I'm with him, I can't wait to see what he's going to say next. He's brilliant and funny and charming, and only occasionally an enormous asshat.

For the next year and a half, it was off-again-on-again with us. He wasn't ready to jump into a relationship again, which was fine by me. I was fresh off a divorce myself, and not eager to get tied down to one person. But then I did a really stupid thing: I fell in love with him. We still kept it casual, though, and it worked for a while. But inevitably he'd do something shitty, like yammer on about whatever nasty hooch he was also seeing, or break up with me at my birthday party. I'd be pissed for a couple months, we'd pick up where we'd left off. Big fun in Dysfunction Junction.

This spring, it finally crashed and burned for good when he let slip that me I wasn't "intellectual" enough to hang out with his "intellectual" friends. Now, I'll tolerate a lot of stuff. Insult my mother, tell me my ass is getting fat, but never EVER tell me I'm not smart. Asshole. He insisted he didn't mean it that way, but I broke up with him again, and this time it stuck.

Fast forward six months to last night. I decided I needed to see him before his big move to LA in 3 weeks. There were still things that needed to be said.

We stayed up late into the night talking. Reminiscing, apologizing, rediscovering why we fell for each other in the first place. I looked at him and knew that I loved him, but that I'd also be okay when he was gone. That I was finally ready to move on. And I realized that, despite everything, this man is somehow still one of my favorite people in the world. I'm glad he came into my life. He taught me so much about myself, including what I want, what I deserve, and what I should never put up with. I love him. I'm glad he's going. I will miss him greatly.


Best moment of the night:

We were walking around the neighborhood; I was barefoot because those goddamn high heels were the worst idea ever. When we came to an alley that was all gravelly and broken-glassy, he scooped me right up in his arms and carried me across without a word. It was so Lloyd Dobbler - you know, escorting Ione Skye around the broken glass in the 7-11 parking lot. God, I'm a sucker for chivalry.


There's only one song today:

Tori Amos covers The Cure

women always go for the assholes

Exhibit A

I want to marry my new camera phone.

Why oh why did I wait so long to get one of these things?! Just think of the potential! The mind reels.

For instance, here's a hott picture taken in the Tequila Kitchen mere hours ago:




I realize camera phones should only be used for purposes of good and not evil. However, if you're just walking around wearing something wrong, I will report you to Shell. You have been warned.
* * * * *
In other news, I am wearing high heels today. This is a somewhat rare occurance, as my sense of balance is tenuous at best. But one of the editorial houses in town is having a party tonight and I wanted to look my best for all the scruffy bearded indie dorks. You know, when I trip and fall into their laps. Most non-triumphant.
* * * * *
53rd time's the charm! Tequilaphile Wendi brings us this charming article about a man who swears his 53rd marriage will be his last. Liz Taylor is a fucking slacker, yo.
* * * * *
This song is guaranteed to make you happy or your money back:
Eels "Mr. E's Beautiful Blues"

dumb as dirt

Some guy on Craigslist thinks corporate America has brainwashed people into showering daily.

My argument: you don't need to take a shower every day. You just don't. I know some will attack me for this statement, and may even try to call me out as a slovenly, smelly loser somewhere trying to argue away my greasy skin. Well, I'm not. I'm a well-dressed, good looking early 20's guy, work downtown in the loop, etc. But lo and behold, I don't take more than two showers a week and do just fine...

...See, its all about getting manipulated, and most people in the US have bought it. Soap companies, cleansers, shampoos, and more toiletry products than you can name all want you to take showers every day and use up their products, so you can buy more.

Yes, that's the evil advertising industry for you. Selling people on useless concepts like bathing. We suck.

Your soundtrack for the VP debate tonight

Arsonists "As the World Burns"
Magnetic Fields "Smoke and Mirrors"
Modest Mouse "Dark Center of the Universe"
The New Pornographers "The Laws Have Changed"
Mary Lou Lord "Own Worst Enemy"
Matmos "The Struggle Against Unreality Begins"
Goldfinger "Counting the Days"
Rilo Kiley "It's a Hit"

Thanks for nothing, Amazon.

The Ferrari is back and it's all Amazon.com's fault. If that damn book wasn't on damn backorder, none of this would have happened. I would've deleted his emails and ignored his phone calls. I would have said to myself, "Self! He's just not that into you." But thanks to Amazon's slow-ass order-filling, I stupidly answered the phone and now we're having dinner.

Across the city, my friends all just had strokes. But not to worry, my peeps. Next month he's moving really far away. Not quite Korea-far, but across-the-country-far. And do we all know why? BECAUSE HE'S JUST NOT THAT INTO ME. Let's make it a drinking game!

So it's just dinner. Dinner, and then he's gone. For reals this time. Forever. The only reason I'm meeting him at all is to say goodbye. And I'm stopping at Barnes & Noble first.

Debating is hard.

What was Bush scribbling so furiously during the debates? Tequilaphile Dana has uncovered the truth...

and now, on to the happy

Congratulations Chris and Amy!

It's an awesome responsibility, being a parent. Molding a young mind is something you can never take lightly. Trust someone who knows.

baby's first and last visit with the Easter Bunny


good luck.
* * * * *
John Kerry is ahead of Bush in some of my favorite polls!
* * * * *
Hey, why did the Reader change it from "Missed Connections" to "I Saw You"? How retardoed.
* * * * *
best website ever
Ulli's Roy Orbison in Cling-film site. Exactly what it sounds like, except even better.

Hello, and welcome to my homepage. My name is Ulrich Haarbürste and I like to write stories about Roy Orbison being wrapped up in cling-film. If you have written any stories about Roy being completely wrapped in clingfilm please send them to me and I may put them up on the site. If you have a site with stories about other pop stars being wrapped in cling-film mail me and we can exchange links.

* * * * *
A movie and a smoke and a smoke: Harold and Kumar Go to White Castle is at the Brew this week. Who's in?
* * * * *
Just because I love you: Tullycraft "Twee"

I Have No Standards, Part II

These songs are both really frickin good:

William Shatner (feat. Ben Folds & Aimee Man) "That's Me Trying"

William Shatner (feat. Joe Jackson) "Common People"

(thanks, stereogum!)

And don't forget, Boston Legal, the new show starring Cap'n Kirk and my boyfriend James Spader will be debuting Sunday night at 9. Like you have anything else to do.

Newsflash: I have no standards

The guy emptying the trash at Potbelly's kept giving me the eye during lunch. He was pretty cute, too.

things that make you go wha?

Our old pal Dick Cheney didn't always think invading Irag was a dandy idea. From the Seattle Post-Intelligencer:

"...Dick Cheney more than a decade ago defended the decision to leave Saddam Hussein in power after the first Gulf War, telling a Seattle audience that capturing Saddam wouldn't be worth additional U.S. casualties or the risk of getting "bogged down in the problems of trying to take over and govern Iraq." (via the Daily Rotten)

Now I'm no genius, but wouldn't you call that a "flip-flop"?

Curiouser and curiouser.

Last night, the ropes were pulling you in

Jenny Lewis had 700 people wrapped around her little finger. From the moment she came out on stage, we were smitten. Every grin, every word, every peek from under her bangs served to reel us in further. She wandered the floor, crooned to the balcony, ripped a harmonica across her lips like she was punishing it. She wailed and screamed and softly sang the room into stillness. Even the too-cool-for-school kids were charmed into dancing and singing along. Resistance was futile.

Easily the best show I've seen this year. They sang the older favorites like "Paint's Peeling," which sounded as good as I've ever heard it. And they did 5 or 6 off the new album, including a knockout version of "Portions." But the highlight of the night was Jenny, Blake & 700 backup singers covering the Postal Service's "Such Great Heights." Lovely.

Big love to the guy who screamed "Bush is a fucker!" in between songs.

WTF?!
During the show, I look down and see $10 on the ground. So I pick it up and ask the hottie next to me if it's his. He says no and then PUTS IT IN HIS POCKET. Whuh? In the whuh whuh? But later I made him fork it over so I could go buy a beer. Moron.