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I’ve been in three different time zones in the last two days. It’s now 10pm Denver time, 11pm Chicago time, midnight in New York, and I just got back from the gym where I put in my jogging time. I ate at the airport because I knew that the only place near the hotel was […]

Ah, yes: America’s children shouldn’t be educated, they should be entertained. “I’d rather them not do it at all,” he added. “You’ve got a show watched by millions of children. Do children need to have gay marriage thrust in their faces as an issue? Why can’t we just entertain them?” It reminds me about the

I’m getting on a plane to Denver later today, but I’ve got a couple hours of office time… So, just a couple of things. For those who haven’t seen “Sideways,” do. It’s a great movie. I tend to bitch about movies that give me two random people who are supposed to be falling in love

They wouldn’t give me a late checkout time, so I had to rebook my flight, which, honestly, is a way better state of affairs. I really just want to be home for awhile. Do some laundry. I might even be able to get out and go jogging while the laundry’s running. I’m a bit exhausted.

I’m in love with that guy at the front desk. We keep beaming at each other. Granted, he’s paid to beam, but hot damn. I keep trying to think up ways to take him home with me… Anyhow, as regulars have likely noticed, blogging has stalled out. We’re packed into meeting blocks all week. It’s

Bleary-eyed and functioning on about five hours of sleep, which isn’t too bad. Had dinner in Brooklyn last night with Brendan, which I was nervous as all hell about for a number of reasons. He’s the first person who’s “known” me through the blog first, and met up with me offline. In fact, this turned

Insane. Insane. I don’t know how anything manages to fly around here. Miracles. All of it. I’m out of here in 45 minutes, fucktards.

Sucks. Sucks. Sucks. I’ll elaborate later. Just frickin’ sucks. This is just incredibly stupid. I should be sleeping NOW. I will sleep. Turn off brain. No more thinking. I promise. Fuck. Some days, I amuse myself with my utter inability to get my shit together. Some day, I will be a supah ninjah. Until then,

Or, not. You never know. I’m going to bed. It’s a Tylenol PM night.

I’ve talked before about being the oldest child of a couple of burger flippers, but I haven’t really talked about what it was like, socially, to be the daughter of fast-food employees; however much I enjoyed my time in the restaurants, the kids at school, the people we knew socially, didn’t really see it as