I Have Been Places

Whoa, have I been places! Places other than here, apparently, which is something I think about as I lie awake at night cataloging my broken promises. "Write blog. E-mail Lucy. Lunch with Gabriela. Call pharmacy. Book Philly hotel. Cat sitter." What would happen if I just did everything when I first had the impulse? I'd not only be accomplished, but I'd have much room for other accomplishment, so I suppose my procrasination really just ensures that I stay humble.

I am back from Florida. Yay! Boo! We were delayed by supposed weather (it's 2005! can weather really cause delays?), and couldn't get home on Sunday, as planned. This meant that we were stuck (stupid word, considering the following three words) in Amelia Island with our fabulous hosts for an extra day. I would have rolled gleefully in the news like a pig in shit, but had procrastinated on a few dwindling scholarly responsibilities for weeks, and faced some serious deadlines. Deadlines which wouldn't budge with sympathy for my Floridian plight. So, I squirreled away in the guest room at our luxe AI digs and did schoolwork 'til I was done. So good of me! And so sorry I felt for me as my companions frollicked in the sun!

The wedding was nice. So good to see a beloved become bethrothed, and I am feeling quite indie-proud to report that it was indie-star-studded. Studded with indie studs. Or other variations on the theme. Indie studs and ridiculous, bloodthirsty mosquitoes, which danced a joyous jig when my pasty gams appeared at the aisle. Good lurd. I swatted at one bug, mid-suck, with my pretty wedding program, and watched a smear of bug guts and my freshly-drawn blood scatter over the page. Ew. Say it with me: "Ew."

Have we discussed Deep Throat? (How's that for a segue?) I think not, really. Have I mentioned that I felt wistful with the news, like I had just discovered an invite to my surprise party? That's precisely how I felt - Deep Throat was one of the great secrets of contemporary life in the U.S. Sort of like the Bermuda Triangle or Area 51 or the Dubya reelection. Now the secret is no more, and will never be again. I want to watch "All the President's Men" (one of my all-time faves) again, to see if it looks different to me, much like I expect "The Sixth Sense" would look now that I know the punchline.

I'm off to a veritable tour of the east this weekend. To Boston, to Connecticut, to NYC, to Philly we go! So many cities, so little time.

In other news, I am officially, unabashedly obsessed with the new Sleater-Kinney record. Those of you who know and love me knew about and loved my disinterest in S-K. Not no mo'. No sir. This record, I daresay, smacks of Important Record. Sincerely. It's brilliant, in such a life- and belief-affirming way. A friend accused me of being Sub Popped, but I totally disagree. I am completely swoony about this record, and require you to purchase and enjoy. One note: enjoy it via your headphones and/or iPod - it sounds better there.

Other astute observations which I will neglect to mention next time include:
Michael Jackson - who cares?
Katie Holmes - Ew.
Dick Cheney on GTMO - Duh.
G8 and dropped debt - For real?
Britney and Kevin: Chaotic - TGITivo
Downing Street Memo - hello?
Nuggets and Dust - Great American Novelist?
Amashama - please clone.