Still in Utica, not sure why

Well, ok, it's because they want to take me to the gay bar gay bar.

Which is where my old goth nite has ended up, only now, my cronies are the DJs, and... well... they'll play "Waltz in Black" with no fear of what it does to the dance floor. (And already requested copies of hahathor's holiday mix to add to their insanity.) Although they confessed to resorting to "Bananaphone" to get people to leave.... and is it really a Gay Bar if the last song of the night is anything but "It's Raining Men"? Seriously.

This is the same gay bar that would reliably serve us when we were in high school, because they didn't want to turn away underaged "gay" kids from one of the area's few accepting environments. Unlike all the other places that reliably failed to check ID, they didn't water down their drinks.

Of course, the result is that even now I too easily pass for a lesbian.

(Uh, I'm not. Jerk.)

Speaking of how much I lust after dudes: Only my nephew zinged me with a Clooney gift. My sister-in-law nearly kept a straight face when she remarked "So, you broke up with Trent?"

(Nah, that's probably a life commitment at this point. I'll be making those postcards when I'm in assisted living. And all the "not obsessed" people are still going to want a copy.)

Now I have two (2!) copies of Solaris I'm never going to watch. Along with The Thin Red Line, which I might watch, and One Fine Day, which I'd watch with Mom, except that her DVD player doesn't work. She didn't know because she never uses it, for fear of being stranded in the blackness between duelling remotes.

Still in Utica, not sure why

Well, ok, it's because they want to take me to the gay bar gay bar.

Which is where my old goth nite has ended up, only now, my cronies are the DJs, and... well... they'll play "Waltz in Black" with no fear of what it does to the dance floor. (And already requested copies of hahathor's holiday mix to add to their insanity.) Although they confessed to resorting to "Bananaphone" to get people to leave.... and is it really a Gay Bar if the last song of the night is anything but "It's Raining Men"? Seriously.

This is the same gay bar that would reliably serve us when we were in high school, because they didn't want to turn away underaged "gay" kids from one of the area's few accepting environments. Unlike all the other places that reliably failed to check ID, they didn't water down their drinks.

Of course, the result is that even now I too easily pass for a lesbian.

(Uh, I'm not. Jerk.)

Speaking of how much I lust after dudes: Only my nephew zinged me with a Clooney gift. My sister-in-law nearly kept a straight face when she remarked "So, you broke up with Trent?"

(Nah, that's probably a life commitment at this point. I'll be making those postcards when I'm in assisted living. And all the "not obsessed" people are still going to want a copy.)

Now I have two (2!) copies of Solaris I'm never going to watch. Along with The Thin Red Line, which I might watch, and One Fine Day, which I'd watch with Mom, except that her DVD player doesn't work. She didn't know because she never uses it, for fear of being stranded in the blackness between duelling remotes.