The Right To Terminate This Conversation.

Just got back from Seattle. I won't tell you how nice it is to be back. Suffice to say I rarely wake up to my alarm, but when I do I'm almost never struck with a desire to go right back to sleep, but this morning I was. Luckily I had the magical world of Harry Potter to coax me onto the Hogwarts Express (Urine smelling red line).

I got my hair did first thing on Saturday. Followed that with some thrifting, shopping, panty buying, exercise, and the worst lunch I've had in a long time. It was all but a prelude to the wonderment and enchantment of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. Wonderful movie! Terrible Name! Dreadful theater! A mountain troll cleaning the floors! Followed by an arduous walk back up Capitol Hill. Since it would be hard to top Harry Potter we scarcely tried.

Sunday was obviously a mess. First a trip to of all things the Farmers Market where I was forced to buy some rather tasty cheese. I say forced because they look at you a certain way there that dissipates once you have a bag in your hand. Organic shields if you will. And then, THEN, I went to the regular grocery store (God my vacations are starting to sound like other people's ordinary lives) where I managed quite well until I discovered they were trying to trick me with two types of plastic bags, and that one of the baggers was a local celebrity. We have a lot of local celebrities in Seattle.

Monday I fared a little better even though I spent an hour and a half of it with Anonymous D in the Department of Licensing. I needed to secure my Washington State driving privilege which is a simple matter, but one you must wait dreadfully long for. A nice walk through the new downtown Seattle Public Library which seems "cramped" and "confused" despite the artificial "openness" and "space". But quite nice regardless. A spot of shopping where the shopkeeper put on the most annoying display of what the fuck. Almost spent as much time ringing up my Ann Demeulemeester shirt as the DMV did calling #113. Quaint little bar with confused music selection, but serves up some fine sushi nonetheless just around the corner from my place. A bit of hate crime came my way when an addled crack head kept screaming "freak" and "faggot" at me. Well not necessarily just me, but most people. I was hardly the gayest looking thing walking up the street so I just brushed it off.

I simply had to be one of the 4 million people that tuned in to the Victoria Beckham Coming To America Special Television Hour Show. It was faboo! She is simply adorable, and the show completely changed my view of her. And no, I can't even believe I'm serious.

Used book store, more grocery madness, freaky ass lines at the airport, clear air turbulence, and many many people who should not be breeding. I actually saw a shirt about thoughtless breeding up in Seattle. I'm going to pick up when I go back. In two weeks.

Needless to say, and I do feel bad about this, I have not paid close attention to ball. Just enough to know that my girls are doing fairly alright. They've knocked the Red Sox division lead down to the single digits, and I just get weak thinking about the Yankees hot on anyone's ass. I will not comment on Gary Sheffield's latest round of smack talking until I hear it for myself. Derek looks like he could use a nap. We have that in common.