It�s nice to know my body is still on my side. I just did something I knew NOT to do. See, change is for certain areas of life, new things are good when most of the senses are concerned. MOST, but not ALL. New things, in my experience, are rarely �good� when it comes to varying my breakfast routine. I should have known different butter would be bad butter. My usual banana, bagel, and coffee has gone horribly awry. I could tell the guys at the coffee shop were particularly annoyed with me today, and this was only confirmed when I arrived to work to find a bagel toasted in my bag. See, I ask for sliced, not toasted, with butter on the side. Not only was it already losing its toasty freshness (the reason I wait till I get to work to toast it), but there was NO butter in the bag! Bastard!

I didn�t think there was anything wrong with the butter in the fridge, so I tried to re-toast my bagel, then scraped a few shavings from this fridge butter onto my precious bagel, and walked with it back to my desk. It may be hard for me to continue at this point. I�m still quite traumatized. I�ll try... Okay, I sat down, and took a bite of my bagel. Immediately, I spit it out (good thing no one was around). And, stubborn bitch that I am, not knowing quite why my mouth refused to chew and swallow, I tried again, with a fresh bite. There it came, flying out of my mouth! And then I gagged. Nothing seemed too out of the ordinary, the butter looked like butter in the fridge. But bagels can�t be fooled. And neither could my mouth. Thank God for that, who knew what could have happened if I actually swallowed that shit? (Gee, never had that thought cross my mind before, tee hee)

Pixie, in all her friendly glory, came to the rescue immediately with a freshly toasted English Muffin with REAL butter glazing wetly in its nooks and crannies. Breakfast saved.

I saw Dragonfly last night, went with Bunny and Blondie, two very lovely and rambunctious ladies. I liked it. There were several points in the movie where it could have gone cheesy, could have been over the top or make me scoff (wait, there were a few of those, but then again, I�m a scoffer), but it saved itself with some original twists. I thought it came together nicely, and I�ll tell you, sick children can be fucking freaky. It�s just so wrong to be scared by something so innocent and ill that when it happens, you�re frightened on so many levels you get goose bumps.

I spoke with my boys in LA, and it turns out there�s going to be quite a party coming up. One with just me (love those intimate gatherings) and another with hundreds of our closest friends, right before their lovely lake-house (what they call it) gets demolished. I mentioned (casually of course) that I would love to initiate the destruction of said-house. It�s getting demolished anyway, so why won�t they let me just burn it down? Then again, I don�t really have much of a destructive streak, so perhaps I couldn�t do it. But I KNOW that I�d be able to add to the fire once it�s started.

Coincidence? When I got out of the movie, there was a message on my phone, the song �Burning down the House�, just the song, that�s it. Comedian swore up and down that it wasn�t him. And since I write my number on the bathroom walls in every bar in San Diego, it could have been anyone, really. So I chalk it up to destiny. That house is coming DOWN.

-Barbarella

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