Allegra Sloman's blog

I am holding myself and rocking back and forth in pain because, due to (deleted), by fiat we must dress up and so I am wearing a bra AND pantyhose AND a skirt AND… blecch! MAKEUP. I mean, I’ll have it all rubbed off by noon, and not in a nice way, but I actually have black stuff on my eyes.

The apocalypse got delayed until today. Really, I think it was very nice of the apocalypse to hold off until a weekday. I get my game face Monday morning.

Big shout out to Tom and Peggy, who fed me two nights running and probably prevented me from jumping (typed humping, glad I caught that) in front of a train. Humping in front of a train could be just as bad for your health as jumping, quite frankly – what a world of different a consonant makes.

Watched Once More with Feeling so many times this weekend I feel like I could burst into song at any moment, not that there’s a man in this household who could stop me. (Or would. I mean, we burst into song all the time ANYWAY, it’s like living in a really bad sitcom with no musical director).

I had a GREAT IDEA for a community event, Buffy related, and now I am trying to come up with a venue. There’s gotta be someplace cheap I can rent that has a sound system and a damned big TV and DOESN’T serve alcohol. More details when I get a venue nailed down, and at least three other unindicted coconspirators together.

Katie and I role played job hunting yesterday on the back deck. I said, “Do you have a criminal record?” and she said, “Do I need one to work at Tim Horton’s?” which caused me to fling myself all over the back deck screaming with laughter. Okay, it didn’t happen exactly like that but it was still pretty funny.

Big shout out to Katie, who has been very easy to get along with of late and has made me laugh very very hard a number of times this weekend.

I actually played rhythm mandolin last night! We exhausted ALL the songs we know in D, and my fingers are singing a calloused song this morning.

PS I am wearing high heeled boots. Last time I wore these was to fetish night.

My parents are considering commissioning Tori to do a Gorey style portrait of our family. I am so happy about this I can scarcely squeak.

Happy birthday Tam Tam.

I sure hope all the people I know who are depressed right now get over it in a hurry. Including me.

Image is from my fOLks front yard.

Aussie scientists may have discovered, if not a vaccine for HIV/AIDS, then a way of dramatically stimulating the human immune system against the virus. This is extremely cool and happy news, so I wanted to share it. More details in the peer reviewed journals, I imagine. The reason I believe this story is true is that a) it was an accident and b) they say they retested it numerous times because they couldn’t believe the results either and didn’t want to punk the scientific community.

 

2019 says o well

Here’s another picture from the beach walk. Don’t know what happened to the pic of the cat and the Morrison Creek lamprey. Guess I didn’t hit a button properly.

Just finished watching a seriously strange and wondrous cultural artifact. Keith, for reasons best known to God, decided to pull out the 1933 Opus “42nd Street” and watch it. Like, first thing this morning, which was about 10:00. (Paul had gone off to work).

I realized I had slid onto an alternate plane of processed cheese when I heard 72 year old dialogue like “Anytime Annie? She only said no once, and that was because she didn’t hear the question!”

The movie itself is no great shakes, and Warner Baxter could have stood a thicker mustache (this line deleted) but what really pulled me were the two little pieces of “filler” at the end. Okay, picture that you’re on the Columbia football team and you just won the Rose Bowl and it’s 1933 and for publicity purposes you are being tossed on a bus, and pulled off the bus in Hollywood and thrown into a big pile of BUSBY BERKELEY STARLETS. Oh, da humanity. Then they all dogpile ya, with their fancy clothes on.

The other piece of entertainment was quite amusing. It showed a very raffinee party during which Harry Warner (the composer of the musical – 42nd Street) sang and played, and a whole bunch of his ‘guests’ sang and played. It was like an MTV video that was a) black and white b) didn’t have seven billion jumpcuts per second and c) didn’t take itself really seriously. Oh, and the woman who sounds like Betty Boop….. so wonderful.

Pic is of the path behind the fOlks’ place.

Did the tarot for both myself and Paul this morning…. Death came up as the first card for both of us. Hope he calls me once he gets to work. I worry about that guy.

There’s this wonderful story called Obstinate Uncle Otis. In it he disbelieves a whole bunch of things and they all disappear. He finally disbelieves that he exists and Poof~!

Anyway, that’s about where I am right now. I am cheerfully disbelieving everything in the hope it will go away.

Katie is off at the non bf’s; her previous plans got the parental “You’re old enough to make your own decisions but wow you sound like you’re going to get deleted and then deleted in a truck with a couple of deleted” seal of disapproval. For reasons best known to herself Katie decided that these wonderful plans, which don’t sound worse for having the details omitted, were probably not advancing her long term best interests and decided to chill with her non bf instead, which all things considered constitutes a large improvement. I mean, I actually like the kid, and he has a JOB.

Paul was off at circle last night in Poco; he says it was wonderful as always; I was glad to hear it.

Anyway, if anybody has GOOD news, please let me know.

Have you been enjoying the onslaught of mooses? It’s amazing what you get when you imagegoogle weird moose. I am now wondering what other quaint critters I can find.

I light a candle for John and Jackie Knill who were confirmed dead in Thailand. They were friends of a friend of mine; she ran into them in a coffee shop the day they left. We must love each other while we can.

I light a candle for Unca Dave, who blew through town this week and I didna get to see him. I light a candle for Paul, who is not having a good time these days. And for Keith, who went to Karate even though his mouth was still really sore from the dentist.

Be Thou mine, be Thou mine, welcome Sophia;

You are welcome any time

Be Thou mine, be Thou mine, enter Sophia;

You may enter any time.

Now I have a chorus and no song to go with it. Playing Mandolin sure has changed a lot of things in my brain.

Pampas grass from the fOlks’ yard.

It was about Hunter S Thompson but that web link is toast.

I’ve just smoked a ball of opium – no pain (no conversation either, but oh well)

note to anyone reading this. I smoked opium precisely once, ten years ago, and while I’m glad I did it for archival and educational purposes I have no interest in doing that again because candidly it was about the best I ever felt, and we all know how that goes

usual amount of pain from joints which never goes away and sometimes moves up the scale

sunburn

costochondritis

chest pain from humiliation or breakup <— mental, but it still fucking hurts

IBS flare up

migraine

gall bladder colic

broken shoulder

L5-S1 disc blowout

childbirth – LOTS OF PAIN