Who are you?

The obsession with 'Sex And The City' is rearing it's designer head again. The movie version opens this weekend and it will be interesting to see the demographics of who'll be attending. Women and gay men alike have such affinity with the show that they love to figure out which they are; Miranda, Charlotte, Samantha, or Carrie. It's the next version of 'Six Degrees Of Kevin Bacon'. Parlor games for the bored at work. I myself find me a Carrie wanting to be Samantha. Let me tell you a story. (photo's from socialitlife)

To attend this wedding this weekend has been an expense and a half, cash and energy. In the caribbean, I would have to look amazing and needed perfect shoes to compliment the seersucker (Sista Sal keeps saying c*cksucker, not completely wrong) blue and white number I have. I found them in DSW, little woven leather slip ons, brown. Size 10. Damn. Off on the broom I blow to the next two DSW's and a mall, nada. What to do? Back to the first store, stuff my 11's into them to guage the pain. As long as I limit my flailing around the dancefloor to a minimum I shouldn't suffer to badly, they just looked too good. Back on the broom. Home. Workout. Still in the gym shorts, shirtless with the mp3, thin socks and the new shoes I go to the road to scrape the soles so I don't end up ass over tea kettle. People driving by were quite perplexed, as was my buddy Steve who I called to tell me how 'gay' this scenario. We do this often, he's in Indiana and up to his chin in corn. Steve was especially amused with me not hanging up correctly and him getting two more minutes of me shuffling my feet. I am Carrie Bradshaw. At least I was in her shoes.

Don't forget your 'Rabbit Rabbits' sunday morning. I imagine when I wake up after the wedding my first word is going to be 'Owww'.

Are you shitting me?

Post offices are not my favorite places to visit. They always develop into a very needy codependency that I don't like to encounter. "You need this form, stand over there." "Sir I'm on break soon if you can't fill in the form timely...". And usually there's about as much warmth at Post Office on the west coast as there is at the DMV. My old post office was housed in some crazy building with turrets (towers not swear words) and had the worst counter attendants and post master brought in from another dimension. There is no possible way that those people are human. No way. Enough civil service bashing (sorry Bruce P)

I say that, until today. I was mailing out bday cards and gifts and wanted to use the automated postage scale machine thingy. There was quite the line for the counters, I smiled as I made my way to the machine's area adjacent to the lobby. A woman was loading packages into it like it was a Friday afternoon in Santa's north pole workshop before an "Elf Gone Wild Weekend" happy hour was about to start. She leaves and jams the chute with her last one. No biggy I think, I'll do my postage here and counter drop the rest. Chutes and Ladders!!! The Universe is jammed up. The credit card processing won't work. I informed the patron behind me of this. He just thought I had lousy credit and tried it himself. Scowling, I made my way to Hands Across The Post Office. Doubting Thomas followed moments behind, shaking his head and avoiding eye contact. The line moved better than I thought and not before long I was being called to a clerk. I gave him my out going cards, bought stamps and he began weighing the packages. "By the way, the self automated package machine is out of order. So you should know," I said very nicely. The clerk raised his head, looked me in the eye and said, "Job Security," with the wryest smile you've ever seen. Humor. At the post office. Humor. At the post office. I pert near peed. Something between an exhale and laugh and a cough came out of my chest and the clerk smiled greater. At the end of the transaction I pulled my amex from my fold of cash and handed it over. He then commented how he had a similar wallet and produced and wallet made of cardboard and duct tape. I told him the color was fetching and the style trendy. He was pleased with this transaction. Business over I wished him a good day, and left.

It's not uncommon to find characters in Los Angeles. People regularly exercise at the park on a tightrope, or leave gyms with juggling pins. Sometimes you can even catch the nice man in the matadors outfit riding his bicycle with the basket of silk flowers on the handle bar through Calabasas, and I won't even start about The Cat Lady (I'll tell you another time). But to find a character, in civil service at the post office, with great timing...........are you shitting me?

Post no bills.

Payback's a bitch I've heard, and I've heard Elton John say "The Bitch Is Back." Whodda thunk that little ol' sincere Tone Loc would be the victim of Posting? I'm demure, mature and a sir, why would I be office-faced. Confuse Me? I'll elaborate.

Bubbles (pictured in green) had come into the possession of many Post-Its (those little adhesive paper doo hickies for those of you just fresh from the bunker) and thought it would be amazingly funny to Post-It an old bosses office. P soon got involved as did Tiffany(pictured below in tan). Soon the scheming began and surveillance launched. Alas they failed. But the circle turned on itself with Bubbles and Tiffany thinking that P would enjoy it as a little "Welcome home from your Honeymoon, we've trashed your place" in their honor. So scheming began and surveillance launched. One well placed bribe to nymphomatic H & M store manager later, and we were in the front door. There were Post-Its on the fridge, on the wall, in the hall in the stall. There were Post-Its in freezer, the micro, the cookbooks, the glassware. On the floor, on the mirror making the image look much nearer. It was like an origami orgy when we were done. Mind you in many colors the rainbow of reminders went on. When the newlyweds returned from their nuptials they were not impressed. The foliage of yellow and pink and blue turned them red. It took a lot of time to restore order to their place, already recovering from the wrath of the wedding plans. Tempers peaked as some objects broke under the cleanup effort. Mind you this was not the goal. Humor was. And all were will participants.

My point is, and I do have one. I got Post-It'd by Bubbles Betrayal and P On Thee, my solid wing women on the west coast. They decided that my truck would look great as a noteparmadilla. And it did because my truck is beautiful, Flash. Unfortunately for them, my truck is filthy right now, always. The notes barely clung to the dirt but did look impressive on the parking lot at work. They attempted a good prank but failed due to sanitation. They even did this to me and then came to my station for dinner; smiling, drinking wine, laughing silently at me. Whores! I was leaving work to find my Flash looking as such clutter I had to laugh as I knew what was the flutter. Bubbles Betrayal. Can you believe that she would be indignant as to my desire for vengeance? She can Post-It out, but can she take it? Fortunately for Tiffany she stepped out of this act and will be spared.

A reminder, vengeance is best served cold. Write it down on.................................something.

Apartment for sale.

This is up there with Turkey Hill for sale. I wonder if Martha ever unloaded that bad boy? But I digress, here's your latest money burning advice from the horse's ass.

Hey, got an extra 46 mil lying about?Can't decide on buying a little island all your own or maybe a race of people. Buy a piece of history and own 776 Park Avenue, the former residence of Brooke Astor. This charming flat includes six terraces, fourteen rooms with four for maids. I certainly wouldn't balk at a tour. I'm imagining cat pee.

I wonder if the son inheirited it? The stories were always kind to how their relationship was.

Betty's Follies.

There's a woman in my old building that I trade emails with. There ain't nothing better than a senior with sass. Betty's very cool and is always on the move. This cartoon is not of her normal vernacular, and is bigtime funny. I wanted to share it with you all, just like an oatmeal raisin cookie recipe.

Cinco De Mayo. (Day-O)

The bananaboat song. Such great times. I remember many a karaoke nite in that gas station turned bar turned donut shoppe on the Boston Post Road in Yankee Key West (The CT Shoreline). It was called the Sol E Mar and may as well have been named Riff E Raff from the scum that populated it. But sunday nites everyone put down their needles and came to sing their hearts out. Nostalgic, aint it. Day-O was my show stopper followed up with my sweet duet of "Bad Bad Leroy Brown" with the Prancing Polish Prince.

Nostalgic today as two years have gone by since my first posting. Spatagram has made it two whole years. We graduated, just to be silly. Where does the time go? So when you are lifting those Corona's, chasing those Cabo's pause and reflect; Where would you be with out Silly? It is a silly question.

Excited.

Yes my dork is showing. It's opening day for "Iron Man" starring Robert Downey, Jr and I'm moist. I'm very excited. I'm even having trouble focusing on my projects...............for the day............what was I saying. Oh, yes. Focusing and excitement. My childhood addiction to comicbooks has brought me to this day. It has also brought my parents one less room in their beach compound. You heard me. Compound. Dork. Addiction. So I'm going to strap on my very best nonsexual date bro, Eric, and foray into the Marvel Comics latest film this weekend. I know it's got to be better than X3, anything is. Maybe even "Ishtar".

Compound. Dork. Addiction. Peaceout!

Rabbit, Rabbit.

For those concerned with my karmic well being be assured the first words out of my mouth this morning were indeed; Rabbit, rabbit. After last month's strange incantation of Monkey Monkey on April Fool's I was risking a lot on May Day. One month's folly shame on the wine, two month's? Shame on the monkey.

Can you imagine anything more odd to do on a day as such, protest treatment of immigrants in los angeles or skipping around a tall pole with ribbons? I'm not sure which is more boring but I'm determined to enjoy myself, I'm very intrigued and oh my this soup's delicious.

First comment on where the last tangent went wins a prize from the second shelf. You know you are curious.