a quick update

Hey, I changed stuff around at my Etsy store so that you can buy stuff with credit cards now. Also, soon, hopefully, I'll be adding more stuff I've made that you've probably seen around my house.

(an example)

I actually have standards. Who knew?

Some guidelines, theories, and equations.

If person A has a steady work schedule, an apartment, a small enough social life that there's really only 3 places they can usually be found, and a cell phone and person B has a work schedule that changes from week to week, couch surfiness, and an answering machine that still uses the robot voice, who calls who?

I realized last week that I've taken the Eddie Izzard approach to booktalking. I've got a few notes, and I ramble, and it's funny. Sometimes. I hope.
And I wear a lot of makeup, except I don't think I look like an uglier, older Pink in it. Which is a shame, because Izzard's not a bad-looking guy, 'til he gets all Glamour Shotsed.
Not to say he shouldn't wear makeup at all. Just not like in those pictures from that Bust article awhile back.

As soon as I buy a new box of condoms, my reason for needing 'em seems to fall of the face of the earth. Leading to this equation...

2 weeks + nothing = invented closure.

If an informal survey (OK, looking at people's MySpace profiles) turns up more married hipster and punkish mid20s kids than single ones in an area, does that make a 26 year old a spinster, or just someone who should start thinking about relocation?
(Don't worry--I'm still thinking that relocation is a few years off. But people should start working to get their local teen librarians fired now. Public libraries have a lot of red tape.)

(7 balls of Lamb's Pride bulky x $7) + $4.95 flat shipping + fun times spent knitting Skully > at least $50 for a cute oversized warm sweater + the annoyance of trying to find such a sweater + shipping and handling
Greater in terms of the better idea, not greater in terms of which is the bigger investment for less.
ETA: January.

Look, if you compliment me and then reassure me of your sobriety, somehow it makes it less of a compliment. Also, kinda creepy.
Scratch that. Really creepy.

The number of sexy bunny-costumed girls in a room is indirectly proportional to the number of minutes I spend in that room.

S-H-O-P-P-I-N-G, we're shopping

I broke down and bought a box of condoms I'd actually use before I figured out what to do with box A.
Which is why I found myself in the local Walmart the other night with a open, yet full box of non-spermicidal condoms with gluestick all over the opening.
This would be after the realization that I'd have to pay postage to send the box to the company and declare my dissatisfaction.
Which is why I found myself in my office, furtively gluesticking the top of an open, yet full box of condoms, hoping to god no one would come in and see what I was doing.
Brian used to tell all these stories about what walmarts would take back, so I figured this would be a cinch. Except, here's a word of advice: if you're gluesticking a box of condoms, don't use the purple Colorations brand, 'cause it just plain won't stick.
And I was planning to use that store credit to buy catfood, too.
There go my chances at this year's Spinsterlympics, I guess.

I come from Chino, where the asphalt sprouts.

(I'm still mad at myself for not using that as the title for my O.C.fest.)
The Mountain Goats are playing at the Warhol this Friday, and I'm just so mad I'm missing this.
Here's a quick list of other bands I've missed, that I really really really want to see someday:

1. The Shins: Driving to this show was when Buddy's thermostat-thing futzed out in Shelbyville. Nate had a great slightly fictionalized account of this on his website, but preliminary Google-ness isn't bringing anything up.
2. Morrissey: Do we need to mention the Ill-Fated Morrissy show? Do we?
3. Belle & Sebastian were playing Columbus one night, and I could have driven to see them, but I had a paper or exam or something the next day and decided to be a responsible little librarian-in-training instead. Stupid me.

Billboard Oct 22

• Billboard is now doing the same thing Publishers Weekly, where it has 2 covers and the first one is an ad masquerading as a magazine cover.
• Personally, I think it's sad that Thalia couldn't get on the cover, so she went the ad route instead.
• She'll show that Eric Clapton!
• OK, I'm pretty much over They Might Be Giants, but: knitted! KNITTED!
• So cute.
• They remind me of that video with the muppet-type puppets. Tiff knows what I'm talking about.
• And that reminds me of the State sketch where they eat Muppet.
• "I need someone to teach me about near and far!"
• They're making jukeboxes now with slots to scan a credit card.
• I guess now I have no choice but to save all my quarters for laundry.
• Even though, since I did 3 huge loads last night, I'll be able to hold out until Thanksgiving, and then 'til Christmas and can do it at home.
• Such a chicken or the egg:
• Do I hate doing laundry b/c I've got so many clothes and always wait til the last possible minute to schlep to the laundromat,
• or do I have so many clothes so I only have to worry about laundry once a month or so?
• MTV goes Canadian, again.
• Hot damn on a biscuit, Greg Dulli is a sexy bitch.
• Oh, and he's got a new album out or something, should be good.
• Rod Stewart irritates me.
• Here's a quick list of things about Rod Stewart that don't annoy me:
• jokes involving "If you think I'm sexy"
• "Maggie May" and covers of Maggie May
• a few assorted other Faces gems
• But this standards shit has got to go.
• And I'm not just saying that b/c the horrible "station" we played at Kinko's had them in serious rotation.
• I swear, that thing had like 50 songs that they'd just play over and over again.
• Sometimes, I'm in Denny's or something, and I'll recognize a song, then I'll recognize the next, and realize that they've got the same stupid station playing.
• I hate that.
• In Mexico, there are Dulce de Leche Kisses.
• and Mango and Tamarind Jolly Ranchers.
• How can I get my hands on these!?
• This is the best Soulful (TM) picture I've ever seen: sepia-toned, heavy glasses, downcast eyes, cord blazer, hand over one eye, wedding band prominently displayed.
• Was this taken by his daughter in her 9th grade photography class or something? Yeesh.
• Secretly Canadian is all over this thing.
• Cat Steven makes an appearance on the new Dolly Parton album. This is quite possibly the best thing I've heard in awhile.
• ooooooooooo, review of the new Silver Jews.
• and a review of the new Jordan Knight single, too.
• HEE
• "I've always wanted to marry Elton John," says Barry Manilow.

Hey, I got links now. You have to scroll way far down to see 'em, since I've been all about the ginormous pictures lately.
I know I've forgotten people and things. Use the comments field to remind me, s'il vous plait.
And do I really need to say that it's not an insult if I've forgotten to link you, I'm just dumb?

reason #612 on the Why Tiff Kicks Ass List

She's reading the entire Babysitters Club series and recapping them for our blog-reading pleasure.
***
Just for fun, here's a picture of Stuart in a hat, because I am 12.

Actually, I'm looking for a good pic for my Poster Boy bag, to be started sometime in January.

I keep taking everything to be a sign.

12:30 AM or so, Saturday night:

Have you seen Elizabethtown yet? I just saw it, um, and I wanted to talk to you about it. Uh, you probably didn't expect me to call; you can call back if you want, but it's OK if you don't. I just wanted to know what you thought of the movie. My number's changed: it's 8--no, it's 555-867-5309. Um, I'll be around tomorrow night.

Why? Why, why, WHY did I do this!?
Fucking Cameron Crowe. Like Campbell Scott in Singles and Lloyd Dobler aren't enough, now you and your weird movie have me calling my xboyfriend, in a weekend where I was feeling strange and aloof and sort of homesick anyway.
The last time I saw Andy was almost exactly a year ago, and a strange conversation indeed. There have been tiny, short emails since then.
Don't get me wrong. We didn't have the World's Worst Conversation or anything, or even a particularly awkward one, I don't think. Except, you know, I no longer have the strong lovey-dovey feelings, but the same irritants and the same reactions are still around. There were times when I really regretted my call, especially since he hadn't even seen the damn movie. And closure a year later may be nice for some, but sometimes if you open things up to close them again, you wonder why you needed to in the first place.
***
And now, a little something about condoms.
Did you know that they still bother making them without spermicide? I didn't. So I guess I need to buy another box, unless someone would like to do some trading. I really don't want to shell out more $$, plus, I hate the thought of wasting a whole box. 'Cause I like that XTra No Baby Sorta-Guarantee.
This morning, I was scrutinizing the box (because, yeah, on the bottom, they're going to be like, Ha ha! We're the right ones, after all. Because I've bought Nelson condoms), I noticed that they have a satisfaction guarantee. And I think, Hey! I'm unsatisfied!
But does being stupid and not reading the box b/c you've already spotted one patron and don't want to press your luck really count as a lack of satisfaction, or is it just stupidity?
Please use the comments field to come up with other ways in which one could be unsatisfied with a box of condoms, so I can get a refund and not waste a box. The best one gets a completely uncondom-related prize. Maybe a hat.

and I can take it or leave it each time

Because this is the sort of girl I am, I used to blame babyboomer-obsessives--not the actual boomers, mind you—for accelerating nostalgia. We watched them miss things, on screens, in print. In college, in high school, we began missing things too, sometimes things we hadn’t even been alive for.
This fall marks 10 years since my last first day of high school. I like the way that sounds better than, “In May, it’ll be 10 years since my graduation.” It’s been a good near-decade, full of mornings when I don’t walk out of the house silently cursing my mom for wanting me to “have a good day” out loud.
Jesus, this is maudlin. And you’re not even seeing the version the computer ate.
Nostalgia’s a funny thing.
What brought all this on? 2 things: the zine workshop thing I’m planning for Teen Read Week, and a sentence from Rob Thomas’ book, Rats Saw God.
On Novelist (my favorite-est database, after those Library of Congress ones I nerded out over last time), Patrick Jones goes so far as to call this the best YA novel ever. All I know is, if I were a boy and I read this in 1996, when it came out, Rats Saw God would be my Girl.
Here’s the sentence:

I thought about Doug playing in an MTV all-star softball game, rounding third and trying to take out Bo Jackson at home plate.

This line is such a simple, throwaway joke, tossed off for an audience that gets it, most likely ignored by audiences that don’t. It ties the story to a time and place, in a way that even the Cobain mourning scene doesn’t.
Does MTV even do Rock’N’Jock anymore?
***
I want examples of zines at the workshop, and I’m mostly using my old collection. The moving gnomes have taken most of them, hoping (I guess) to turn Southern Fried Darling, Sourpuss, a couple random Cometbuses, and so many others into profit. Here’s what I’ve got left: blue-stocking revolt #1, altocumulus undulates #1, and Swing Set Girl #3, from years later and the other end of Pennsylvania. This is in addition to the black binder with “The Official Bernadette the Squirrel Archives” silver paint markered on the front, which also houses the Waste Another Year Archives and my one-shots.
I threw away my diaries (or journals, or gournals if you’re feeling Paul Ruddish) only a couple years after high school. I’m kind of glad I did. I don’t think I ever need that much of a reminder of how lonely I was, how much I hated everything. People that keep their diaries remember their secrets; because I kept my zines, I feel like I remember everything else, plus almost like a distillation of those secrets.
And they’re a lot funnier. I love that, that we could all be so sad, or so pissed off and/or righteous, and then so silly.
***
And the next time I decide to read a YA novel published in the mid-90s while going through old zines? Kick me in the head, someone, please. Kick me in the head, and then take away my copy of No Alternative.

salt shaker

This window popped up while I was searching Crate and Barrel's site, so I filled in the title instead of that search window--jerks. I need a new salt shaker b/c my plastic Hello Kitty one leaped off the kitchen table the other day and broke. As my mom would say, Be careful! It's only plastic!
Also, I'd like to say that I had nothing to do with the salt shaker's untimely demise. Nothing at all, tra la la.
Billboard, October 15.

• I like these, but they don't really work with anything else I have. They're too modern, especially if I ever get around to that orange paint job and perhaps a cabinet re-do.
• As if Ricky Martin isn't 2000 enough on his own, he's got a faux-hawk in this picture. I'm really hoping this is an old picture, and he doesn't think this is still hip.
• These match the other cannisters I use that aren't my cool Kromex ones, but they're boring, too.
• This is a boring issue so far, so I think I'll just write about my search for a new salt shaker.
• I'm on the Williams-Sonoma site right now.
• I want!
• Would make an awesome purse.
• Remember those plastic McDonald's buckets? I carried one of those as a purse for a time in high school. I think it was the ghost.
• I'm a sucker for glow-in-the-dark shit, what can I say?
• Oh, Library of Congress American Memory Project, how do I love thee?
• Let me count the ways...
• Seriously, so super fun and full of random history--my favorite kind!
• I love these guys, but there's no fuckin' way I'm spending $75 on a salt shaker.
• 
• That picture's from www.loc.gov, too. I did a search for ladies' hankies (or something like it), and some great shit, including this one.
• She's actually in a database of convicted murderesses.
• How does a 6th grader not know what an astrologer is!?
• Sorry, random weird reference moment.
• I wonder if Martha has a salt shaker for me...
• I heart Martha so much!
• Too bad her Apprentice kinda sucks.
• Actually, it's mostly just been boring when I've watched.
• Or maybe it's that stripey scarf going on at the same time distracting me.
• There's a band called The Greenhornes touring with the White Stripes.
• Who's a greenhorn?
• What's a greenhorn?
• The AOL top song is "My Humps".
• I swear, that fucking song is STALKING me.
• Stalking, I tell you.
• I blame Stacey, myself.
• and I didn't realize it was the Black Eyed Peas, who I always thought of as deeper than that.
• Without, of course, actually ever listening to them.
• Everything I know about them, incidentally, I learned through osmosis from living in Philadelphia.
• Damn, now I've got Humps in my head.
• Hate.
• I like this a lot, but who are we kidding?
• We all know I'm so much more the paper-towel-as-napkin sort.
• This is the most amazing band PR sentence I've heard in a while: "The three Hume brothers who form Evermore grew up in a New Zealand farmhouse so isolated that their only musical esxposure was their parents' '60s record collection."
• And they're cute, too!
• Now to find out what records their parents actually owned, before I try to, you know, actually listen to them.
• Let's see what my best friend Target has for me by way of a salt shaker...
• Wolfmother is not the name of an Australian band. It is the name of a Japanese band.
• And then, on the next page? 1/2 ad for Jet.
• I hate Jet.
• They're not even remotely attractive, either, so I really don't understand their popularity.
• Target is boring so far, but I still have hope.
• Ugly is the new AMAZING.
• Seriously, I want that.
• How kickass would that be in a 70s orange kitchen!?
• Can I say it?
• kitsch-en!
• hee
• What's that other place, that isn't Crate and Barrel or William-Sonoma?
• Oh, Pottery Barn!
• I wonder what they have...
• Still on Target's site, though.
• This Danger Doom Cartoon Network album sounds promising.
• Oh, like I'm not going to be all over a song called "Space Ho's", where, according to Billboard, "MF Doom challenges Space Ghost for his talk-show throne."
• These are adorable, but how do they stand up?
• And they're web only, so I can't go in and look at them, either.
• Grrr
• Well, this magazine thinks Liz Phair's new album is "more repectable than" the last one, which is a good thing, right?
• Also says it's kinda boring.
• I just wanna hear the new version of "Can't Get Out of What I'm Into", which was one of my faves from the Girlysounds Tapes.
• Not that I can listen to them anymore or anything.
• I really need to find someone with them on cd.
• Anybody?
• Bueller?
• Pixies DVD: "Offstage footage is scarce, but includes amusing clips of the band touring Disneyland and eating Thanksgiving dinner together."
• I'd like to see that.
• Probably wouldn't top my soul mate and the rest of Belle & Sebastian covering "The Kids Are Alright", though.
• It is, after all, my very favorite Who song.
• And what will play at the party if I ever get married.
• Individual pumpkin soup tureens! I need!
• AW.
• Will Fred Flare solve my problem, or just make me want more random useless crap than I already do?
• PLUSH MILK!!!!!
• Or perhaps both.
• These are so pretty. I look at them all the time, but if there's one thing I really don't need, it's more plates.
• Maybe they'll be another cute shaker at www.sanrio.com?
• eeeeeeeeeeee!
• But, regrettably, not what I'm looking for.
• Even if I am always looking for cute potmitts.
• I know, I know: I'm weird.
• Shut up, okay?
• Let's try Kawaii's site, kay?
• This is probably my favorite store, ever.
• Everytime I go home, Lara and I go here and spend, like, hours, calling across the store to each other and giggling. It's the perfect place for that.
• Mom also buys me lots of presents from here, because she knows I'm insane.
• And, as a special bonus, there's a picture of the owner with Michael Stipe on their home page--YAY!
• 
• I just had to share that. So cute!
• This is really cute, too.
• Caaaaaaaaaaaara, what's the brand of that weird toothpick man you bought me? I bet he's got a fun saltshakery friend.
• Paul Frank for Andy Warhol!?
• No one ever tells me anything.
• OK, a google of "orange toothpick man" is getting me shit.
• Time for home!

I also have a Billboard list in the wings.

Oh, I'm so obsessed, it's not even funny. I love things that make me laugh out loud like a crazy person at the reference desk.

Things I don't love:
October is shaping up to be crazy for me. Teen Read Week, other work shit, Fall Festival, Humor, craziness! Plus, I have to work Halloween weekend (in addition to having a program EVERY OTHER weekend this month), which is lame.
And I've caught myself a cold. So Sunday, I was all about the sick hermitting and the sleeping, because it's not like I could take any time off, what with class visits and readers clubs and Teen Read Week and such.
At 9AM, I am awoken by drums. Do I now have an irritating neighbor with a drum kit? No, b/c then loud, loudspeakered music begins. Is there some sort of church function? No, unless "Whomp! There it is!" is now Christian pop.
It's the finish line for the half-marathon festivities.
Sound travels incredibly well downtown at 9AM on a Sunday morning.
And it's not like I don't already think running is stupid, unless you're about to miss a bus or need to escape something bad.

I saw a punkrock show in a car garage.

October 8, 2005. Billboard Magazine.

• Nikki Sixx sez, “We’re here to destroy the world.” You know, if he had done a better job the first time around, he could just be here to relax.
  
• But the world is where I keep my stuff!
  
• Sorry, I got the live-action Tick DVDs out of the library last weekend, and they made me miss the cartoon. So there will be references.
  
• Good ol’ crazy Fiona Apple. I can’t wait to see what she does next: she’s always good for a wacked-out awards show moment.
  
• I thought Tom Petty was anti-Clear Channel? Or is he just anti high cd prices? I’m so confused by this giant 2 page ad about him from Clear Channel.
  
• This is one of the strangest things about Billboard: there are always these giant “thank you” or “congratulations” ads. Feels like a goddam high school yearbook.
  
• ”Ringo—I always wish I could have gotten to know you better. Have a great summer!—Steve M.”
  
• Who wants to hazard a guess as to which Steve (or Steven, or Stephen) M would write such a note to Ringo? It’ll be a fun game.
  
• My only friends are grown-up nerds like Gore Vidal.
  
• Oh, this Petty ad is actually 3 pages.
  
• Ginormous is my new favorite word.
  
• Fiona’s sheer dark purple shirt is cute. I’m loving how everywhere dark purple is this fall.
  
• Aw, Franz Ferdinand. So cute, and so deeply gay.
  
• ”Nickelback frontman [complete w/icky picture] is pleased with the diversity of the hit band’s new album.”
  
• Um, I’m going to go back to staring at Franz Ferdinand some more.
  
• mmm, smoothy smooth
  
• Everyone must read And Then He Ate My Boy Entrancers. There’s a bit where Georgia has borrowed her father’s brandnew razor to shave her legs. For the next few pages, during her descriptions of her father cutting his face to shreds with his now-no-longer-brandnew razor, she keeps interrupting with “mmm, smoothy smooth” and it’s real funny.
  
• boring, boring, boring
  
• Here’s an article called “After Kate Moss: Will Artists Know Better?”
  
• and no, I’m not going to go off about the Kate Moss thing
  
• Except to say this: I fucking dare you to find me a more coked-out man than John Galliano.
  
• And what’s all over Kate’s leg in this picture? It looks like she fell in some sandy mud last night, and didn’t wash that part of her thigh.
  
• You know, normally I’m pretty apathetic about Nascar. I really don’t care about the zoomy and the bright colors. But when you start letting Scott Stapp be a part of your sport, that’s when you invite the Jessy hate.
  
• Even if the fan of the week a couple weeks ago was a YA librarian, which is pretty damn cool.
  
• Heineken is funding some sort of urban renewal project, turning abandoned warehouses and such into music venues, recording studios, etc. That’s pretty cool.
  
• I don’t see PBR doing any of that shit.
  
• Aw, The Grey Album shoutout. Cute li’l DJ Danger Mouse.
  
• Oh, they’re talking about university venues like, I saw Lauren Hill at OSU’s stadium-thing, not like, I saw Low in a classroom. Oops.
  
• Good show, though. Dean Wareham Boy was there, and I was too busy staring at his ass to notice that the girl in front of him, in the kickass KoolAid shirt, was my friend Meleah.
  
• True story!
  
• I wonder what Meleah’s doing now…Last I heard, she was in Montana.
  
• Also funny: just about everytime I go back home, I see DWB. This isn’t hard, since he lives in Squirrel Hill (Tiff looked up his address one day, but I don’t know if he’s still in that apt) and I spend a lot of time in Squirrel Hill, between the Cage, Jerry’s, and running errands with Mom. He always gives me this look, like, Don’t I know you from somewhere?
  
• And I always want to respond, I look familiar because my friend was stalking you for a good part of the 2000-2001 school year.
  
• But I don’t, because then we look crazy.
  
• Which we’re not.
  
• Right?
  
• I’m not going to read the rest of this article about TV shows and new music, b/c they mentioned Six Feet Under, and we all know what happened and how upset I got the last time Six Feet Under was mentioned in this magazine.
  
• I really need that new Franz Ferdinand record.
  
• Santa? You out there?
  
• How ‘bout you, Chanukah Bubbe?
  
• Steve Earle has written a play.
  
• or Chara or Gwar I could sell you tomorrow
  
• Just bring me back my girlfriend.
  
• Ooo, there’s going to be a DualDisc for the Franz Ferdinand.
  
• That’s what I want.
  
• Whose mall Santa-esque lap should I prepare to sit on for this?
  
• Hey, Danny’s mentioned in here.
  
• Ahh, the never-ending source of entertainment that is My Morning Jacket pieces full of old news…
  
• Li’l Kim’s got Michael Jackson-itis, I think. Except instead of wanting to look like Bambi (at least, I hope that’s what Michael was going for, b/c it’s what he’s got), she looks like Black Barbie.
  
• Didn’t Black Barbie have a different name? What was it?
  
• Damn, that’s going to bother me now.
  
• Rolling Stones have gotten a song on “Days of Our Lives”. The way they phrased this news item, I originally thought the Stones themselves would be on the show. And that’s much, much cooler.
  
• Now I wanna see Bowie on “Passions”.

So, apparently, it's Google and you can win stuff?
I'm such a sucker. Either that, or I'll do whatever Raj's blog tells me.

You’ve made it pretty clear what you like; it’s only fair to tell you now.

I was going to title this “heavy words are so lightly thrown,” but I thought that was a bit excessive, even for me.
I had a couple minor moments towards the end of last week that have, despite their tinyness, kinda stuck in my craw. Perhaps I should have said something at the time instead of, you know, blasting it all over the damn internet (with my vast, vast readership), but: tiny. And when they occurred, it wasn’t really the time/place to discuss.
That’s the problem with tiny moments that stick and irritate: they’re too small, the conversation goes past, or someone else is there so you can’t bring them up without looking petty, but then you’re thinking about them almost a week later, and kind of look like you’re holding a grudge.
Which I’m not, by the way.
Also, at the time, I figured, why bring down what was actually a pretty amazing week, what with crush action, free dinner from other, much more well-known (and deservedly so) YA librarians, and Humor the Speech Team Whale?

Moment I:
I’ve got this neighbor. Actually, I’ve got many friendly neighbors, but most of them don’t have a copy of Different Class for me to borrow. We were friends before he moved onto my block, with what seem like 10-15 other guys. Sometimes we see each other out, but mostly we hang out in my living room, talking about movies or records.
This kid is one of those boys who mentions his girlfriend A LOT. Which, you know, I understand that, for most people, the person they’re romantically involved in is the most important person in their lives. So lots of stories. Sometimes, though, it just serves to remind me of how different I am from a lot of the girls in this town. The first time I met this kid, the first time he mentioned his girlfriend, it was to express surprise that I knew about some band or another, because she didn’t. Other male friend I was with concurred, that his last girl had not known much about music either.
This boy has been known to mention his girl in the first sentence he says to near-strangers, as well. And I think we’re fairly good friends at this point.
So then why, the other day when I was sitting on my stoop, reading my mail, did this happen?
Boy pulls up, yells a greeting from across the street, we have a very short conversation while I notice that a girl (presumably his girlfriend) gets out of another car and they go up into his apartment. With no introductions.
Not only do I find it irritating to not be introduced to a friend’s significant other (which of us doesn’t merit the intro, anyway?), I can’t help but wonder what girl thinks. Now, I’m not the jealous sort at all, but, were I that kind of girl, and my boy greeted his cutegirlneighbor with familiarity but didn’t have me meet her, I would find it a little suspicious, whether the suspicion was merited or not (I don’t need to say that it isn’t, do I? Cause it’s not.)
Plus, it used to really piss me off when Andy would do that to me. And he kinda did it a lot, though he usually followed up with an apology: “Sorry, I forgot her name.”

Moment II:
We’re at the fauxdinerDenny’s. Melissa has gone on home. I’m left with Shane and his friend. Somewhere around here, there’s an argument about which end of Pennsylvania David Lynch went to school in.* Then, mostly out of nowhere, Shane brings up locally produced zombie comics and the boys that produce them. Specifically, how I know one of them. And I still can’t tell: was this name-dropping on my behalf, meant to impress our booth partner? Hell, if I can’t impress anyone on my own, Zombie Policy #2 is probably the last name I’ll drop. But, let’s face it, when’s the last time I went out of my way to impress someone? If just being my darling self doesn’t cut it, fuck ‘em.
Or was it gentle teasing that missed its mark?
And I don’t write about this because I want it to become a big thing. Quite the opposite. I’m not calling anybody out, including myself. No one needs to apologize, or defend themselves. This was a minor moment, that was weird. I wrote a blog post about it. This is where the story ends, folks.
Now, who wants to see a picture of Humor the Speech Team Whale drink coffee out of a non-penis-shaped straw?

*Which, and I know I said this at the time, but I think it bears repeating:
I went to film school in Pittsburgh, partially at the equipment co-op that was up-and-running by the time Lynch would have been there.
I was in the goddam Twin Peaks Club.
Had Lynch had anything to do with Pittsburgh, at any point, I think I would know.
Hey, it’s a wide state, with a big East-West rivalry. Philadelphia doesn’t count.