Monday weekend roundup

Oh crap! Where to even start?

I ran errands today, so I am, of course, running late. Birthday plans have also occupied a large portion of my time!

This weekend was a chill restful one in preparation for the partying to come.

On Friday I got off work early so I rode out to return a book to the library.

On my way home I decided to stop at Out of the Closet to see if I could find some treasure.

Having discussed bicycle bags only days before, when I saw this one, it nearly threw itself into my arms. At $9.00 I could not resist, so I snapped it up and only then did I realize the bag was adorned with a plaque which read - in a very fancy font - "Diaper Dude."

It had once been someone's very stylish diaper bag. As I was standing in the heart of West Hollywood, I could only imagine with amusement some fabulous father toting it around across his shoulders - natch.

I have since cut out the plaque.



On its maiden voyage, however, I wrecked myself pretty badly on my bike. I don't want to say how because it's embarrassing, but I've got a bruise in the shape of a chain ring on the back of my right calf. Had I not been wearing tough pants, I am sure I would have split the flesh open.

Friday night I tucked in early so I could be awake in time to receive the tow truck. Some little electronic has been secretly draining my car's battery, and though my transportation of choice is, naturally, my bicycle, the automobile occasionally comes in handy (Ride in the rain? Not so much...especially without fenders!).

Rode with Orlando in his truck all the way to Westlake. With a lifetime of experience under his belt, my AAA serviceman kept telling me that the GPS in his brain could outsmart MapQuest any day. I believed him. I'd hit the lovely pretty hard that morning, which made all of Orlando's anecdotes even more amusing. He told me about how his grandsons (All under the age of ten) puzzle over the "GPS in his brain," leaping into a frenzy whenever he deviates from the computer GPS, and still ends up in the right place.

In Westlake I engaged in a little consumer orgasmic release, purchasing items for my apartment. Though I grew up in the valley/Moorpark, the place was never my home. Waiting for my sister to come fetch me at the Disneyland-like Westlake Promenade I felt like a shipwrecked alien traversing a vast asphalt desert.

So much space devoted to the much despised automobile! You can hardly see the shops at the perimeter!



The valley and beyond is a very strange place. Time and space and streets unfurl into great distances, and the only people you see on bikes are day workers or men in florescent Spandex suits. Everyone's car is very shiny and very new, and generally of the luxury variety. Women drive around in SUVs cradling cups of Starbucks coffee, bustling from one store to another, swiping for comfort. My sister took me on just such a tour, and we went from one sprawling shopping center to the next, until we finally stopped for lunch, both of us famished from repeated misplacement of her car.



But that's not to say that out here in the city we are any better.



Saturday night included a brief bike ride, a walk across the street, friends, and a screening of Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas in bed. I'm done with beer for now - I sipped a whiskey and water for a nightcap instead. Delicious.

On Sunday I engaged in further acts of consumerism and was rewarded with the single most lovely piece of furniture in the world at St. Vincent de Paul's.

I could tell the piece had only just arrived at the warehouse. It was in practically new condition and priced at $189 a total steal. Hugely out of my $50 price range, I tried to convince myself that I liked another janky dresser more, but I kept returning to my first love. And when I saw another woman eying its contoured edge, I knew that if I did not buy it now, I would regret it for a very long time. So I made an offer, talked it down to $160, gave them my plastic, threw it in the wagon, and now it sits across from my bed.



I have been making sweet eyeball love to it all day and all night.

I realize that I am turning into my mother, and while I knew it was inevitable, I am not quite sure how I feel about it.