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Sunday, Jul. 21, 2002 / 4:42 p.m. ~Lustin' For Leapin' Leezards~ Oh man, they have LEEZARDS at Pet Smart! Loads of Leezards! Leapin' Leezards! They had some chameleons and some thingies and some other thingies, and yeah, I don't know what they're called, but in one terrarium they had a whole passel of them and they stank. Or the terrarium stank. I got right up close to look in, and yeah. Whew! I kind of want one, but mostly I don't. I think they belong in the wild. No offense to anyone who keeps a lizard as a pet, but I don't think I could do it right, the caring portion of the program. I could love it/him/her, but I couldn't, wouldn't want to care for one. Every time I go in that place I want to buy all kinds of stuff, but then I think N and G would just sniff it and walk away. I really want to get them some giant playscape thing, but they are SO expensive. Okay, I'm new to AOL Messenger, or Netscape AOL Messenger, or whatever the hell, but why is the little person icon in the tray walking? What the hell? No one sends me messages, why do I have it? Fuck it, I closed it. So, I come home from the Pet Wonderland, the Pet Smart, and I'm sweating in spite of myself, on account of it's like 25 Billion degrees in my car, and there's this big pickup truck parked in front of my apartment, well, in front of this building, and it's probably the biggest pickup truck I've ever seen, and there is some guy getting in or out, I can't tell, and he's white, which is odd, and I'm thinking who the hell is this guy, when I pull up past him, into a space that is already filled with oil which has leaked out of my car, and I see he has a Thrashers vanity plate on the front of this mammoth vehicle. I think, No, cannot be, but I roll up my windows and exit, bag of quat food in tow, small bag of canned food for the girls too, and I look at the front of the truck again, because it is right there, almost touching my car, and there it is, a Thrashers tag, plain as day, so I look up at the guy, and he is getting in, and he looks at me, but I'm hot and want to get inside, and believe it or not I am incredibly shy sometimes....... so I look away, don't say hello or anything. This is why I'm instantly misconstrued as a bitch. I'm shy. NO LIE! If you know me, maybe I won't be shy, not always, but with someone new, someone cute, yeah, and this guy was really cute. I came up and saw him pull away and he had a vanity plate on the back too, only it wasn't Thrashers, of course, it was a state tag, and it said, Socco, or something. And I thought, WHO THE HELL WAS THAT, and when will he be back?! Hey, it's not easy to find Thrashers fans around here. I know they exist, but where do they hide? So yeah, I've got a sticker on my bumper, but he had the plate. And I may have the plate too, in my closet with my other Thrashers paraphernalia that I keep there for what reason I'm not sure. I guess to have it out of the way, and to have it safe and dust free, or something. That's it. That's all I had. Just wanted to make a note of the LEEZARDS and how I kind of want one, but they're stinky. And yeah, Thrashers boy. Mmmm.... does he live here now? Oh, I told Mark I hate the Oxygen channel because of that stupid black bar at the bottom of the screen where they put little notes and shit, but he said "Rope" was on last night, right after I'd told him how much I love it, and how my parents were pals with Nate and Trudie Leopold (he of the infamous Leopold/Loeb murder) - yeah, I talk about some obscure movie, or not too obscure, and more than likely it will be on TV that night or the next - and so I was flipping around earlier today and there it was, again, so I watched the last half hour or so, annoyed as ever by that black bar where they put notes and shit, but I left it on, is my point. See, there always is a point. No matter how I get to it, it's there. Waiting. I left it on, and that Carrie Fisher interview show was on, and she was interviewing Melanie Griffith. So, I came home from the Leezard store (no, they're not lizards, Leezards is more fun to say, try it) and it was still on, and Carrie Fisher was sitting on her chair with a dress on and her legs bare, no shoes, and she had her legs curled under her on the chair, oh so casual like, and it was stupid. Hey, I shaved my legs today. Big deal. Yeah, it was a big deal. I mean that literally. Big deal! It was gross looking at this huge butterfly on my leg with hair growing out of it. My tattoos look so much better now, and if Moby and I have sex Tuesday night (I kid, you know I'm kidding, right?), well, then I won't be worried, like I was in my dream. But now I'm a sweaty mess. Fresh from a bath to shave my legs, then a shower to wash my hair, and now I'm a sweaty mess. But a clean sweaty mess. Big weekend. Online for about 80% of it. A movie. Food from the evil Taco Bell last night. Sue me. I'm sorry, it was there, and it was good and cheap. I can boycott them, but overall, and in the long run, what good would it do? Tonight? Well.... guess I'll watch my soap on tape, guess I'll flip around to see what else is on. And when the weather cools, some time in October, late September, I'll shop for fresh food at the Farmer's Market, once it's cool enough to leave this apartment without breaking into a sweat. Until then I imagine weekends will be mostly like this. Online. Reading stuff online. Posting stuff online. Watching TV. Eating what I can scavenge, or running out for something quick and cheap. I lead a glamorous life. I know. Cost of the War in Iraq
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