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rue-madame's Diaryland Diary


Grumbling and stumbling

I know itís boring to complain about the weather, but good lord, itís so oppressive right now. Heat I can handle; humidity--or as I like to call it, stupidity--is unbearable. Itís a miracle Iíve accomplished anything at all. Iíll take the dry heat of LA or the 60 degree year-round fog of SF over sticky East Coast soup any day. I say, bring on fall and winter!*

Yesterday I was so parched when I came home from work that I drank a giant glass of water, then followed that with an icy cold Coca Cola. I havenít been 100% caffeinated in a long time, and you know what? That can of Coke fucked me up for 3 solid hours. I was cracked out of my gourd and by the time my favorite dance program came on, I was a spaz dancing alongside the contestants.

I squealed when they showed some of the dancers ďfreestyliníĒ and TA said, ďThank god youíre not gay. Youíd be such an obnoxious queen.Ē Heís probably right.

My picks are still hanging in there, of course. They are all great dancers with solid training. Most of the people eliminated last night had little to no technique, no surprise there. Thereís no way you can advance in dance without technique, and I suppose that philosophy pretty much applies to any pursuit worth getting involved in. They donít call them building blocks for nothing.

This weekend we are invited to a ďcookoutĒóthis is what East Coast people called a barbeque. The event is hosted by the same folks who invited us last year, they of the ďthrow frozen burgers directly onto hot grillĒ fame, the same people whose spread included supermarket mayonnaise-laced goo masquerading as ďsalad.Ē I am bringing my world famous black-and-white-and-yellow-why canít we all get along? dip because I like to share, but mostly, I just want to be able to eat something that doesnít freak me the fuck out.

As if that were not proof enough of my ridiculous snobbery, these nice people have a pool. An ABOVE GROUND pool.

This is NOT a pool!

Iím sorry, but if it isnít IN the ground and you canít swim a few laps or dive in off the side, it is not a pool. It is merely a cold soaking tub. Why would I take a bath at a party? Gentry has cautioned me to steer clear of the doughboy which is most certainly teeming with bacteria (bad for the recovering foot wound) and polio.

The good news is that Iíve been urged by my rheumatologist to slather on tons of sunscreen and stay out of the sun. One of the drugs that Iím taking causes photo sensitivity and she doesnít want anything to happen to me while sheís out the country for two weeks. So Iíve got an out. I canít be in the sun or in the pool for extended periods of time, doctorís orders.


* I prefer those collections anyway. Have you seen this?

4:13 p.m. - 2005-08-04



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