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A Million Little Pieces, James Frey

A true account of a young man's 6-week stay in rehab. Engrossing and gut-wrenching - I can't put it down.

Check out:

I enjoyed the book, now I'm loving the website.


SOMEONE doesn't like having their picture taken when Cat is sitting on them.

Journal links:


Earthbound Disco Ball


Internet Persona
Mimi Smartypants

Miss Doxie
Mrs. Roboto
Peachy Keen
Perpetual Blonde
Pineapple Girl
Sarah Hepola
Scott Dierdorf
Subsequent Events
Uncle Bob


Sunday, January 30, 2005

Two random things about JB:

He has a habit of defacing our morning newspaper. I usually come across his, um, editorializing after he's left for work and I'm yawning over my coffee and flipping through the last section of the Times - suddenly, a photo of Bush will be staring me in the face with a Sharpie word balloon protruding from his lips. "I like it AIRTIGHT", our president might be saying.

If there's a photo that catches someone openmouthed, I often find a crudely drawn penis zooming in for a little hummer action. Any vaguely suggestive stances are visually transformed into an ode to homoerotic passion, including any and all college wrestling photos in the sports section. Dotted lines connect roving politician eyes with the breasts of nearby females. I don't even want to tell you what he added to a picture of a South American donkey that was in the world news section a few months ago.

This type of sophomoric humor, I've got to say, is right up my alley. I laugh until Coffee Mate sprays out my nose on those special mornings when there's a little something extra in the Seattle Times....or, perhaps, a hand amongst the sausages.

Thing the Second - JB is scared of pandas! It's true! There, I said it.


It's been a low-key sort of weekend, lots of rambling around doing this and that. We went to the Pacific Science Center IMAX theatre yesterday and saw this film, which both of us really liked. It's got jaw-droppingly incredible footage of fighter jets from all over the world doing war exercises over the Vegas desert. You should check it out! And if jets aren't up your alley, there's always Beavers, which is also totally awesome because hey - beavers!

After the movie we took the monorail down to the Westlake mall. The last time we'd taken one of the trains was last May, the day of the fire. Since then, they've both been shut down for months - the Red Train, the non-bursting-into-flames one, finally reopened in December. So I don't know if they are trying to advertise the fact that it's running again by making it more noticeable to passersby, or what, but the entire thing is sheathed in the sort of full-wrap vinyl junk you see on the sides of busses. It sucks because the windows are covered, totally obscuring the nice view of downtown Seattle you normally get. Instead of looking out at the buildings, you're forced to eyeball the people sitting across from you or count the gum wrappers on the floor or something. Lame.

JB was in a patient mood, so I dragged him through some Westlake shops, like the new (or new to me, anyway) store called Bubble Bath Specialties that only sells, you guessed it, bath-related items, including something called Jelly Bath that turns the water in your tub into this weird gloopy gel, which to my unending regret I did not buy; and Fireworks, the store with a million overpriced things I love to lust over, such as the silly-but-fabulous seatbelt purse. JB drew the line at Nine West, though, and steadfastly refused to even let me slow down and look in the window. The man has this thing against shoes, you'd think he was beaten with a kitten heel as a child.

We wandered around downtown a little, making a stop at a map store on First, because JB is constantly looking for nautical stuff that might give him hints about the locations of shipwrecks, because he's insane and wants to dive, like, hundreds of feet underwater to find these freaking ships, and we also stopped at the comic book shop in Pike Place, because, uhh...I like to sit on my ass and read comic books.

Neither of our hobbies are cheap, but at least mine does not include the EVER-PRESENT THREAT OF DEATH. I win!

Between the Market and stopping at Larry's on the way home, I had tons of lovely fruit for dinner - naval oranges that made my eyes roll back in my head, they were so sweet and good, some tasty red grapes (remember when you ate grapes as a kid and they had seeds in them? I don't care what kind of crazy genetic fuckery they're doing these days, seedless grapes RULE), and a container of luscious deep red strawberries. Yum.

Here's the thing about fruit, though. Fruit will make you poop. Fruit will make you poop a LOT. That's fiber for you - a little kick in the pants, ha ha, from Mother Nature.

Today was really more of the same, we stopped at the mall so I could pick up some stinky candles from the Stinky Candle Store (pineapple cilantro, which smells a lot better than it sounds) and we tooled around the Redmond REI. You wouldn't think those two activities could suck up half the day, and yet here it is almost 5 PM and really, that's all we've done. SUNRISE, SUNSET....SWIFTLY FLOW THE DAYS....

What, I can't sing a little Fiddler on the Roof here? God.

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