on celebrities:

there's not a lot to be said for ann coulter, but the woman's legs are right up there with rupaul's in terms of overall quality.

it's taken me 24 years and numerous viewings of will ferrell's snl routine, but I've finally realized how funny robert goulet is.

am I the only person who thinks that demi and ashton make a positively adorable couple?

the only celebrity whom I believe should actually have a reality show: phyllis diller. even if all she did was play bridge in every episode, I'd rather watch her than hulk hogan any day.

ongoing drama: did NOT find any bookshelves yesterday, although a great meal at the cheesecake factory was had.

more of same: probably a good thing that we didn't find any, because I had to go out and spend $360 ($280 after rebates) on a new monitor tonight after the old one died. okay, so I didn't HAVE to get a flat screen. but damn it looks good.

tomorrow is officially the last day I'm a resident of 4109. worked like a trojan (one of mom's expressions) for hours today to get the place cleaned out and still am not quite finished. looks like I'll be celebrating the 4th in the empty apartment with the vacuum cleaner.

speaking of the holiday, I almost drove off the road last night when I was startled by a neighbor's giant uncle sam figurine on the roof of his/her porch. menacing.

boyohboy, do I need to take a shower.

went to sheetz for a sandwich and fries after work, a not uncommon activity for me. what WAS uncommon, however, was waiting for thirty minutes for my food. my past several experiences at the revered establishment have not been up to par. I've written a scathing e-mail to the company. grr.

going to durham today to look for bookshelves. it's becoming too hard to convince myself that the cardboard boxes on the living room floor are working as a decorating scheme/storage system.

my neighborhood has an ice cream truck AND an avon lady. I knew there was something edward scissorhands-esque about this place.

I'm reading a most enjoyable book, boogaloo on second avenue by mark kurlansky. unwanted side effects of reading said book are eating too much rich pastry and confusing the hell out of everyone by peppering my conversation with even more yiddish than before.

schluffy time.

well, I'm back online now in the new digs. what with the hellish experience of moving and all I haven't had much time to update. but the house is looking better than I could have imagined. scores of people have been in and out, installing things and repairing little flaws that we've found (so far just a crack in the window moulding and a bubble in the foyer floor, nothing big). I'll have to take some photos and post them as soon as all the boxes are unpacked and everything put away--probably sometime in october.

and yes, I got my dyson. it's all that they say and more. justin mentioned that the design reminds him of the proton packs in ghostbusters. although I'm glad I don't have to strap it to my back, it's not a bad comparison.

the security system was installed by adt today. burglars beware. it's nice to have, especially since I'm not accustomed to living up here yet. it's creepy. no sirens, no traffic noise, no drive-thru speaker at taco bell. and dark! I think I might actually have seen a star the other night. hard to believe all this is ten minutes from downtown. well, with all the recent residential and business development it could be a limited time only deal, but hopefully it'll last a while. seriously, though, a new house's foundation gets poured every week. literally.

speaking of development, demolition of the old carolina circle mall has begun. I am so upset that I didn't try going in and exploring it first. can you imagine a better prospect for urban exploration than a derelict two-story shopping mall that once had a ice skating rink in the center? it's a wet dream. I may try poking my head in yet, although I might cover it with a hard hat first.

almost time for work. that hasn't changed.

so this morning justin called the attorneys and found out our final closing costs on the house. we had initially been quoted about $1400.00.

$396.

so I'm getting my dyson vacuum now.

sorry that I haven't been as punctual with the updates as usual lately, but the bulk of my time has been consumed with packing boxes and doing other move related things. I haven't gotten an ulcer yet, but give me time.

I enjoy spending so much more time with justin, naturally. under his good influence I've actually been getting up at the previously unheard of hour of 1 p.m. yowza.

a new link on the left so that everyone can keep abreast of what laura's up to.

also, a new system. my guestbook will stand--and feel free to take advantage of it--but in case anyone wants to comment on a single entry (and by that I mean you, shana, since no one else cares about me enough to comment on my blog), just click on the wee plus sign at the end of said entry.

and it's off to do a little shopping.

oh, and: upstairs neighbor? not dead. such a disappointment.

we had the final nor'easter walk through on friday and went back today to measure for blinds. so I took and posted quite a few interior pictures in the gallery. some are serious, others I took some pseudo-artistic liberties with. take a look.

back in gso after a nice weekend in wv. I love visiting my parents, but it always makes me emotional. being back in my old house reminds me of how much simpler my life used to be, and how much ambition I had. and even though I know it's melodramatic, I find myself thinking that my family is disappointed in me, and that I don't deserve all the support they've given me over the years. I know the former isn't true; the latter may be. I'm just hard on myself--I've always been my own harshest critic.

moving day is drawing nigh. craziness. so is the rilo kiley show. happiness!

my latest product endorsement: cool mint moisture shave by kiss my face. you'll never apply a razor to anything else again.

time to shower so I can have hair UNlike alfalfa's. wow, I'm an anachronism.

P.S. speaking of anachronisms, this website is fuh-nee.

it's official: I have become a disgustingly conspicuous consumer. I just ate over $6 worth of smoked salmon in one sitting. actually, one standing--I was too much of a pig to even leave the kitchen counter.

I've become concerned that my upstairs neighbor is dead. he just moved in last week; I saw him once and said hello sometime last wednesday. but I haven't seen him since. his blinds are never opened. but what really triggers my suspicion is that his car clearly hasn't been moved since we spoke. some tree or other released a hurricane of seed pod things last week, and the ones on his bmw remain undisturbed by wind or wiper. did he go out of town in another car? strange thing to do right after a long distance move (bless him, he's from new jersey). I hate to think that I'm sharing my building with a corpse.

I'm still angry with myself for not dragging my ass out of bed and watching the burlington building implosion on monday. the first major implosion here since 1971 and I sleep through it. if you feel my pain, wfmy has some nice video.

in response to justin's entry: amen to that!

sorry about the lack of updates to the nor'easter gallery, but until recently most of the work has taken place on the interior; the exterior completion just sorta exploded. but check out the new pic (author's note: webshots is being a big ol bitch as of publication, but keep checking back)--as you can see, we almost have a finished product. just need to get the trees, bushes, and major appliances and we're set! got a great deal on the insurance, too. a month and counting until the move...I get tired just thinking about it.

it's a few days late, but:

five things i learned at the greek festival in w-s on sunday:

1) at times, greek folk music sounds suspiciously like prog rock. I mean, you KNOW goblin must have toyed with a bazouki at some point.
2) cheap white wine tastes much better when you call it retsina.
3) you can get nesting dolls painted to look like pretty much anything. space shuttles, the beatles, and most importantly...nuns.
4) compared to other ethnicities, there seems to be a startlingly high number of muscular men under 5'10" who can claim greek heritage. just my type...gives "greek love" even more happy connotations.
5) greek coffee goooooooooooood.

so yeah, the greek festival pretty much kicked ass.

due to inclement weather I drove cedric to work today--such a good car! it's a shame I don't use him more often, but what a petrol guzzler. and in 'phelia I have the added perk of knowing that I can take 25 mph curves at 50 without even squealing the tires. not that I'd, ahem, know anything about that.

another misheard lyrics experience: in robert palmer's "simply irresistible," one hears the line "that kind of love is mythical." for me it was once "her cannelloni's mythical." I wish it really was. I love the idea of mythical cannelloni. can't you just picture fauns and satyrs dining on pasta while unicorns graze nearby and lutes play in the background? I know I can.

haw haw.

According to the "Which Big Lebowski character are you?" quiz:

Why don't you check it out? Or we cut off your Johnson!

some literature, for a change.

I firmly believe that less than one percent of the world's population understands the true nature of homosexuality. as far as widely published writers go, I'd narrow that to less than one-tenth of a percent. and yes, I am including ACTUAL homosexuals in this number.

I know that it's a grandiose statement, but I have come to the conclusion than jonathan kellerman may be the only author I've ever read who really has a grasp on homosexuality. in case you weren't aware, kellerman is a wildly successful and prolific mystery/crime writer known for the "alex delaware" novels. delaware is a psychologist who spends more time entangled in l.a. crime scenes than he does in his profession, much to the delight of kellerman's faithful readers. delaware is a confirmed hetero, but his best friend--an lapd detective named milo sturgis--is gay. alex and milo pool their resources, trap the bad guys, and crack the cases.

these books are not pulitzer material. kellerman has come under fire for poor character development, faulty logic, wild coincidences, etcetera. all the bugaboos that plague nearly every mystery writer, in other words. but the alex delaware novels are fantastically entertaining reads, and I enjoy them a great deal.

so back to my original point. what makes milo sturgis THE gay literary character? well, let's see. he isn't known for his fashion sense. he sure as hell wouldn't be caught dead clubbing. he doesn't idolize judy garland or burst randomly into selections from rent. most importantly, neither he nor his partner is tragically succumbing to AIDS.

it isn't just that kellerman has made milo's character non-stereotypical. it's that his sexual orientation just doesn't matter. milo's homosexuality might get mentioned once in an alex delaware novel, and in general that mention seems primarily to clue in the first time reader who has picked up a book in the middle of the series. milo is "cop." he's "friend." he's "human being." being "gay" isn't even near the top of the list. which is why jonathan kellerman is one of my personal heroes. his own life clearly doesn't revolve solely around identifying as a heterosexual; he recognizes the inherent sensibility of this and applies it to a homosexual character. and God bless him for it.

have I been reading alex delaware novels lately, then? nope. what I've been reading is john irving's a son of the circus. some of you may have heard me discuss my history with irving. how I hated garp and swore off him forever. how I finally deigned to read the hotel new hampshire and changed my tune, and how a widow for one year cemented my eternal love for the man.

a son of the circus is far too complex a novel to summarize--at 800 pages, that's not surprising. but from the first chapter I was hooked, and was tempted to deem the book my favorite irving yet. have you ever loved a book so much that you slow down toward the end, dreading its conclusion? that's what I did. but finally tonight I got to the epilogue. one of the main characters has recently discovered that a close friend (almost a son, really) is gay after knowing him for forty-odd years. so this character, an educated and worldly man, starts volunteering at an AIDS hospice "to understand him better."

huh?

oh, john irving. I think I may have to give you a rest for a while.

and speaking of depression, a heart wrenching piece of news for the old greensboro crew:

wild magnolia's is no more.

stupid people not paying their taxes. dammit.

I'm starting to forget what it was like to make it through a night without feeling depressed.

since I've promised no more cryptic one liners, I'll expound. my job. still like it okay, but hate how it restricts the rest of my life. so I should change to day shift. pros: more time with justin and the ability to go to school at night. cons: money, money, money. I worry that I won't even make enough to pay my bills--if I leave the company I definitely won't. and what of school? what should I study? nothing motivates me but bigger paychecks, and no degree (with the possible exception of computer science, and jeremy don't play dat) guarantees a better job.

for right now, it's a moot point. I can't afford to consider a change until we're settled in the house. so for right now, I stay depressed.

yeah, that's enough expounding.

the best word to describe life of late is bleh. but I think I know what could fix it. a party. I don't want to give one, nor do I want one given for me. just to be there. here's approximately how it should go:

9:30. I arrive with several others. Just a few have showed up so far, ten tops. Pleasantries had, drinks made.

10:00. I start to worry that the evening may be a dud, but someone interesting shows up with liquor and the news that more people are on the way. Within the hour, the stereo’s blasting and 30+ folks are milling around. A circle of pot smokers forms—I don’t partake of course, but take comfort in knowing that it’s there. Someone shows up that I don’t particularly like, but everyone else is friendly to him/her so I assume that I’m missing something.

11:00. Feeling buzzy, I get involved in a conversation with several people that I barely know in which philosophical and intellectual topics are bandied about. We discuss that we don’t see each other enough. Hugs are given and empty social promises are made—at some point within the next week pictures of said embraces will be developed and sent my way. Sidenote: historically at this point in the evening, I would have picked out a guy at the party as a potential make-out/hook-up partner and would increase my liquor intake to lower my inhibitions. As I’m very much spoken for these days, I decide who it would have been and hit the booze harder anyway.

11:30. A good friend of mine is tipsy and bitter about a negative interaction with someone else there, whom he/she is avoiding. For half an hour we retreat to a corner. I sympathetically listen to his/her ranting until he/she begins to feel better, after which we chuckle and quietly ridicule the offending party while watching him/her across the room. Again in a good humor, we rejoin the fracas. The undesirable who arrived around 10:00 leaves and everyone proceeds to discuss their hatred for said person. I feel vindicated.

12:00. Power hour. At least one indie rock song prompts a drunken chorus that makes me think, “Damn! I’m glad I know these people.”

1:00-2:00. Two people get partially or completely naked, two mysteriously disappear and reappear, and word makes the rounds that there are at least two people there that no one knows at all. I make good natured sexual overtures to my straight guy friends who won’t be offended by it. Someone says something hilarious that I write down on scrap paper. The next day I’m still sure that it was funny, but have no idea what the scrawl on the paper says.

2:00. I see someone that I’d rather not, and drag the 11:30-12:00 friend on a drunken walk to the nearest convenience store/supermarket for something as an excuse to hide. When we get back in half an hour, said person is gone. Close call. During the interim, a crafty drunken partygoer has been cooking—some surprisingly good snacks, probably involving fresh baked goods.

2:30. Just as the evening seems on the verge of winding down, someone shows up that everyone knows and loves—he/she lives out of town now, but is visiting. The party gets a second wind. An hour of reminiscing and gossip during which one or two ninety-pound weaklings finally throw up, lie down, and trudge home.

3:30. People begin to trickle out.

4:00. Six or seven of us remain; we sit on the porch quietly talking—the stereo has been silenced—until the residents of the house have all gone to bed.

4:45. Three or four of us are hungry, and the most sober of the lot drives us all to a 24 hour eatery for breakfast.

6:00. Stumble into own apartment, unsure of how I got there. Fall into bed and asleep around dawn.

This doesn't have to be followed exactly; it's a flexible guideline. If anyone is willing to attempt to reproduce such an evening, let me know and I'll bring the hooch.

all of justin's hard work on children of eden really paid off; his performance was stellar. the show itself was marvelous, of course. I know it sounds selfish, but I'm glad that justin isn't involved in any more theater projects for the time being--seeing each other so little was getting stressful.

I'm a big fan of the new hot hot heat album, elevator. critics be damned, I say it's a stronger record than make up the breakdown--they've proven that there's more to the band than being just "catchy." although it's still a hell of a lot of fun.

the whip's really cracking at the office. replacements for poor performers are being trained at the moment. a meeting was had last week, the gist of which was basically, "brace yourselves, because a lot of you are on borrowed time." thankfully my quarterly review was solid and I shouldn't have any reason to worry, knock on wood.

I'm discovering that terry pratchett's a lot of fun. huzzah for audiobooks!

time for some snackage.

rants.

I'm getting really tired of people who think that their life experiences give them carte blanche to be bitchy to all humanity. you think the world's given you a raw deal? boo fucking hoo. grow up, get over it, and start showing a little decency and consideration for other people.

I'm also tired of being the one to go to for all the favors, the one who can rearrange his life for other people, the one who won't expect anything in return. news flash: I expect plenty in return. I don't begrudge any of my friends anything that I can give, but fair is fair. if that makes me selfish, selfish I am.

too many people have this image of me as a doormat. maybe ten years ago, but not now. try to walk all over me and you'll find me standing on your back wearing cleats.

(author's note: oddly enough, no events have prompted all this tonight. no one specific has made me angry, and nothing has happened today to tick me off. I guess I'm just hormonally pissy. that doesn't make me any less sincere.)

I know the whole point of the game is to come up with the best answer yourself, but just in case you ever need to resolve a dispute this is phenomenal.

by the way, did y'all know that pam grier is from winston-salem? just what I need, more evidence against the home team in the ongoing gso v. w-s coolness debate.

update: have just learned that jackée harry is too! but--sorry to disrespect the dead one and his loyal fans--the annoyingness that was howard cosell was also. which just about cancels both out.