...Not the kind of wheel you fall asleep at...

Things I Did This Weekend

  • Burnt a cigarette hole straight through the crotch of my polyester pants, realizing that I should be very thankful that they didn't go completely up in flames.

  • Watched a little kid chow down on dog-treats from the bulk section of the pet store I was at. While his parents watched.

  • Boozed it up with a bunch of crazy-cool vegans.

  • Had dorky boys try to rescue me from the rain on my way home from a bar with their cab and then leave me a dorky message on my machine to make sure I got home safely and wasn't feministically offended by their attempts at chivalry.

  • Had a friend tell me that he thought of me while doing walking-meditation on a retreat because, as they very slowly walked across the park, he suddenly realized that they looked like a weird bunch of zombies.

  • Stared at a disturbingly muscle-bound, chest-shaven club-dude and fake-lesbians groping each other for way longer than I would've liked. (If that isn't a testament to how much I love you, Ms. Mo, I don't know WHAT is. Heh heh.)

  • Pressed knees with a friend in a dark movie theater.

  • Walked around all Saturday with a giant, red nametag-hickey on my chest because apparently you should never ever put a nametag directly on your skin, even if your intention was to not draw attention to your boob.

  • Realized that asking the bike co-op guy about why there are bike-seats with a cut-out in the middle of them was the worst question ever as it took him about 5 minutes to figure out how to nicely say that it makes your lady- and man-junk sit more comfortably.

  • Listened to a FANTASTIC guitar player bust-out a fantastic cover of Joanna Newsom's "Clam, Crab, Cockle, Cowrie."



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