*Mostly the cheeks and jowls. David was disappointed no one ate the snout and Jason wanted to eat one of the big, sticky uppy teeth. The ears are better served to the dogs.
**6 subjects marked 1-9. A lower mark is better. If you don’t fail, you can have a pass, high pass, credit, or distinction.)

Hah! I crack myself up.

You are teh awesomest!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

But.

Lyss and I each got balloons for our birthday. Impressively, they are a little deflated, but still floating as high as ever. About 3 or 4 days ago, Chaitali discovered the use of one as a toy. the ribbon comes down just to the height where she can reach it and try to eat it if she’s standing on her hind legs. So, she’s been trying to catch the balloon, and over time she ends up chasing it into the area where the ceiling is too high for her to get to it, and then she starts meowing like her paw is caught in something. It is so funny, both to watch her try and eat the ribbon, and to watch her stare after the balloon plaintively while crying about it.

My mom was in labor for at least 36 hours. It was probably longer, but she wanted to take a shower, so she wouldn’t admit she was in labor at first. She went into labor on Valentine’s day because I like to be as much of a pain as possible. When she got to the hospital, they gave her an alcohol drip (no really, that was standard procedure in the late 70s. I wonder if they thought babies would want to stay in the womb if they could get wasted there. Maybe the doctors yelled through the belly, “You better enjoy this; you won’t get anymore of this sweet stuff for 21 years!”) My mom was pissed; she’s always gotten hungover pretty easily, and she thought she should at least be able to enjoy the alcohol if she was going to pay for it later.

Eventually, it became apparent that I am more stubborn than my mom. So, I was born via cesarian section. I was the prettiest baby in the NICU, which may, possibly, have been due to the fact that the rest of the babies were born earlier and were sicker. I had to stay in the NICU for a while, until I learned to remember to breathe while eating (not at the exact same time, natch)

Then I went home to my parents’ house, with the folk-rock band as roommates, and the drum kit in the garage (the only instrument the band would let me and my best friend Daniel play on, because they figured we’d do less damage there)and there my life began. . . .

On Thursday, , , and I went to see a bunch of bands and bits of bands cover The Magnetic Fields’ 69 Love Songs. By far, Rachel Flotard kicked the most ass, just by talking. Also, the interplay between her and Ben Hooker (her being pissed off that he wasn’t playing with whisks like he said he was going to, him offering up the beginnings of a story about her going to The Emerald Queen Casino to see Foreigner, her threatening to tell an equally embarrassing story about him, him swiftly starting the next song . . . )was hilarious. Tullycraft was wicked cool. They started out a little off, but then they became awesome. When they had the entire audience singing along to Yeah Oh Yeah and it rocked my socks without triggering feminist guilt, then I knew they were (umm, I need more synonyms here) good. Lesli Wood was adorable with a powerhouse voice. She and her sister had nice harmonies going on.

I should probably mention that I’ve been sick all week, but I’m pretending that I haven’t been because acknowledging illness would just get in my way.

Today, or last night or whatever, , , and I went to the Seattle Lesbian and Gay Chorus “Family Happens” concert. It was pretty good. The “Co-Dependent Medley” and “Bohemian Rhapsody” renditions were excellent. Then we went to Dilletante’s so I
could eat while and I chatted until was falling asleep.

But the best part of the night was when we were on our way out of the concert and an older lady (probably in her 60s) told me that I was the sexiest woman there. Hee. That made my night.