Well, the car is in the shop. Ricky called and said it was the master cylinder. He also said something suspect. He said that I had about 80% on my front brakes, and 75% on the back. Hello? I just had the back ones done 7 days ago, I happen to know the front ones need to be done ASAP. What the fuck? Now, I'm not even sure I needed a master cylinder. Or brakes. What's a girl supposed to do in a situation where you don't know how to check this stuff yourself, you don't have time to spend dicking around with different opinions from different mechanics - and you need to have a safe car to schlep your kid around in? Fuck, Fuck, Fuck!!!

Other than the above referenced b.s. - it's been a rather nice day so far. I got up really early and took the car in. Walking down a normally busy thoroughfare, early on a Saturday morning is nice. No cars. Quiet, pretty neighborhood. I went over to the gardens to water my "mud" - 'cause that's all I can see growning. I know why nobody is there during the day. BEES! They're everywhere. Helping the flowers to grow. Gathering ingredients to make honey. Buzz, buzz, buzz. I watered, and got the heck out of there.

I have tomatoes! My Charlie Brown Christmas Tree bush has at least 3 tiny, green tomatoes on it. I knew it could produce - with a little fertilizer, a little water, and a lot of encouragement. I Can Farm!!!

I have to hit the showers now. I smell like - well, I don't want to get into what I smell like. But, I need a shower...


About 12 years ago, I stalked Harrison Ford.

Well, not an official "stalking" by today's standards. I didn't show up at the house wearing a wedding gown or anything. I worked at a store in West L.A. Lots of celebrities came in - Michael J. Fox, Peter Falk, Roy Firestone, Jimmy Smits (he's really, really, really tall), Dionne Warwick - and Harrison Ford... He was having something delivered, and filled out a form with a phone number on it. I couldn't help myself. I copied the number down, and the next morning, very early, I dialed it. I expected that it was going to be his business office, or answering service number. After all - he's Han Solo! The phone rang - once, twice, three times - and a very sleepy voiced Harrison Ford said "Hello?". I hung up! I felt so bad that I woke him up! Then, I just felt bad that I stalked him. I never called again, and I eventually lost the Post-It that his phone number was on, but I have my memories...


September 08, 2001

Buh Bye!
October 05, 2008

Be Afraid, People.... Really Afraid
September 01, 2008

One Last Bitchfest for the Road
August 24, 2008

Get the Popcorn Ready
July 17, 2008

I'm a Rich Ho-Bag
June 20, 2008

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