Yesterday, it was nice out (until about 3pm when the humidity made everything totally shitty) and we needed bananas and blueberries and booze so I walked down to Whole Foods. I was pretty hanged from Melissa’s Booty Call (I’m not getting into that today other than to say that boys on bikes who call our group of girls out for no reason at all had better be prepared to be SMACKED DOWN) and having the Hangzieties on an epic scale, so I thought to myself, “Self, let’s do some calming, frilly, browsing at Anthropologie. Let’s touch all the appliquéd cardigans and fondle glass bed knobs. Let’s unfold folded things. Let’s.”

On my way inside, I noticed a tall blonde woman dressed like a mall detective (and, okay, I’ll say it - a power lesbian) follow me inside. Then I kind of lost track of her because the Anthropologie smell hit me full force and I sneezed all over a stack of silk shirtdresses. When I looked up, she was standing nearby pretending to admire some aprons.

Look, I worked in retail for ten years. I am not proud of this, I’m just saying I know what security guards look like and they look like that. What I don’t get was why I had been targeted on my way in? Was it my iced tea? Was my iced tea suspicious? Was it my tote bag? It’s not like I was wandering around Anthropolgie “dropping” my bag and then “dropping” piles of jeans onto “the floor”. I was just looking around. I wasn’t wearing a coat on a hot day or sunglasses inside. I wasn’t drunk. WTF?

I was so mad. SOOO MAD. I decided to do a few laps around the store to make sure I wasn’t being paranoid but no, at every turn, every new display, the power lesbian/mall detective was on my tail.

And here’s the part where I got really pissed. Even though I knew, I KNEW I should have asked to speak to a manager and gently let her know that her new security person was making a customer, THIS customer (yes, I wasn’t going to buy anything that day but I was planning on it, in the future - the future where I make enough money to afford two hundred dollar underwear), very uncomfortable and I was insulted and would probably never be back in again - I didn’t say anything.

I left and went to Whole Foods. I am a gigantic doormat. It’s very disappointing. So I think I should go back today and with my camera. Don’t you all agree?

Crissy - That was great! I read it to Dane. I think I’m on the same track as you, veganwise. Twice a day and then chicken happens. You feel me?

Matt Davis - I see what you’re driving at. Fisher family story? Is that it? I should do that? All ur ideas are belong to me. Thank you.

Megan - Those people are insane. On the serious. And I love my new/your old top. It might make my arms look a little fat(ter) but whatever. Fat arms are my new bicycle.

Justin - I want that Toaster toaster but I also want this. And then it’s a present for Dane, too.

Chris - It’s in one of these goddamn boxes! I’ll find it.

Keri - Cousin! I miss you! I hate talking on the phone. Email me please. Or I’ll email you.

Sallie Mae Student Loan Service Center - You should probably just chalk this one up to experience. Sorry.

Nothing to worry about - just a lot of self doubt combined with the move and money’s a little tight and the DOG WILL NOT STOP PACING OMG THE PACING and some deadlines I blew a little because I was too tired to think straight.

Anyway, lucky for me I have Ferik Penrickson to kick me in the ass when I need it (he doesn’t so much kick me in the ass as he gently uses our safe word - Piers Anthony - and then explains why I am babbling incoherently for 400 words) and so this interview managed to come out all right.

I’ll be all fine next week, I promise. I just need a few days where I don’t think about everything all the time. I would also like some ice cream.

What I’m saying is I’m sorry I haven’t been responding to comments or emails (sorry Melissa!) or blogging much. Give me a few days. And a few cocktails. And some nachos. And some GODDAMN CHEESE.

That is all.

Enjoy this internet. Kiala is most likely going to kill me for it.

~dane

Oh internet, we moved!!!! No longer must we wake up to the sight of the depressed, cigarette chewing Poor staring into our windows (and souls) day in and day out. I cannot tell you how happy this makes us. Although, we never got to stand out on our tiny fake balcony and flip The Poor the big shiny bird like we had planned but whatever and fuck them anyway because we have a real balcony now and the Poor are not allowed on it unless they would like to clean it in exchange for a sandwich or a Mickey’s Big Mouth.

And yes, Dane fell off the vagon about a week ago and he has been pussying out on telling the internet about it super busy with some big deadline thing that has to do with Nike? Or HP? I don’t really know what he does but I do know there’s a lot of type type typing on the computer and then we get a paycheck. It’s kind of just like what I do on the computer only instead of money I get the POWER and the GLORY. Sometimes I get recognized at nearby area mexican restaurants. Anyway, same same, right?

On our first night at the new place we came home after several celebratory pitchers of margarooties with Megan and Justin and immediately, because we are responsible pet owners who care about the health and mental well being of our animals, let ZZ out of her cage kennel and took her out to pee. Which she did. On the rug. In the foyer. In front of the security camera of our new apartment building.

God. And Dane almost had an embolism about it because he is tired and this is his first dog and whenever she does something she shouldn’t - like poop in the hallway or eat a whole kid - he panics.
Luckily for the both of us, and for our marriage, our new building is about 150% populated with gay dog owners who recently moved here from New York - the most unflappable, capable and funny of the gay dog owning specimen. The one who helped us was named Lucas and he misses New York SO MUCH. He was incredibly helpful (especially considering how incoherent and tequila-y I was) and ran up to his apartment to get us paper towels and Nature’s Miracle and then helped us clean up the pee.

We need to do something nice for him so help me, internet, and give me your suggestions as to what would be the perfect thank you gift for the gay dog owning Nature’s Miracle wielding New York SO MUCH missing Lucas?

I may have had fourteen margaritas prior to this outing. Megan may have had fifteen which actually is NOT why she ended up gunning her car onto the grass and then back onto the raceway. That happened because she is awesome.

Justin took these pictures - I think while driving his car at speeds upwards of one million miles per hour. He’s like the paparazzi. Or magic.

UPDATE: The extended version is up (same link). Whee!

I interviewed Stuff White People Like author, Christian Lander, last week and although it was pretty awkward what with my insistence on asking him “funny” questions and then not really listening to the answers because I was too busy trying to write them down without using my broken pinky - he was very gracious and I managed to get a good interview out of it. You can read the abbreviated version here on The Mercury’s new and improved website where you can now leave comments on my articles! And on other people’s too, I suppose, but this is my blog and it’s about me. Just like everything else in the world.

The day after our interview I looked at Christian’s website and I am just saying that the post that day was this.

Coincidence? You tell me.

I received this offer in my email today from a Dr. Henry Martins.

Dr Henry Martins
to undisclosed-re.

Good tidings to you as you read.
Please permit me to write you irrespective of the fact we have not met before. I
got your contact through network online hence
I decided to write you. I would be very interested in offering you a part-time
paying job in which you could earn up to $7,000 a month as extra income.
opening an account would have been my best choice if I was not working on a
deadline that must meet a 24 hour turn around time, other options are not on my
side due to time, money, and requirements. This is why I am offering a part
time opportunity to someone responsible who can supply prompt assistant and
service.
JOB DESCRIPTION:
Work as my payment assistant in charge of collecting and processing the payments
from the associates.
1. Receive payment (inform of money orders/checks) from my Clients/Associates.
2. Cash the Payments at your Bank
3. Deduct 10%, which will be your percentage/pay on Payment processed.
4. You will then forward the balance via Western Union Money Transfer
according to my instruction.
REQUIREMENT:
18 years or older.
Responsible, Reliable and Trustworthy Available to work a minimum 3-4 hours per
week.Able to check and respond to emails often.
Easy telephone access.
IS THIS LEGAL? YES
It is very legal, Doing this job is 100% safe and legal. I would be glad if
you accept my proposal for an opportunity to make up 10% of each transaction
completed. Please reply via email with complete information as requested:
A. NAME,==============
B. STREET ADDRESS (NOT P.O BOX),=================
C. CITY:===============================
D. STATE:=============================
E. ZIP CODE============================
F. COUNTRY============================
G. MOBILE NUMBER, ====================
H. AGE, ===============================
I. SEX, ==================================
J. OCCUPATION============================
K. E MAIL==================================
All replies should be sent to drhenrymartinss@gmail.com
Regards,
Dr Henry Martins

“Ability to check and respond to emails often”? OMG YES.

“Is this legal? Yes!” So reassuring!

You had me at Western Union Money Transfer, Dr Martins.

If you all will excuse me, I’m going to go change my Myspace headline to include my SSN and birthdate.

Last night, Superfan Erica met me at my apartment (she was so prompt!) and we took a cab over to the Crowbar on Mississippi Ave to meet Melissa Lion.

It was really, really hot and we were all sweaty but whatever, the Crowbar has margaritas - wait for it - ON TAP.

Were they good? Not particularly….but they came out of a tap and ever since reading MFK Fisher’s story about red and white wine spigots in the bathroom of a Dijon hotel room, I have been dying to drink something non beer-y from a faucet.

Anyway, I was totally retarded downsy and shy the way I am and Superfan Erica was so funny and pretty and confident and brave (she cuts her own hair). Actually, she reminded me more than a little bit of Alison Hallett. I think we should get them together. And take pictures. What.

Melissa met us there a few minutes later and she looked so great in her summer dress and not sweaty the way I was all sweaty. And she met Superfan for the first time..

Superfan: Not really comfortable with being called Superfan

We then proceeded to make Erica show us the entire contents of her ginormous bag. You see, Erica is 25 years old, smart, pretty and SINGLE (hear that internet? SINGLE) and so Melissa and I are compelled to live vicariously through her adventures. Some of Superfan’s overnight necessities…

Michael Cunningham book: Note…NOT The Hours

You never know when you might have to jam

Fresh tee shirt: For freshness. Like I said.

I WOULD NEVER THINK TO BRING A PHONE CHARGER - BRILLIANT

Thank God we met her. Otherwise, I’d still be watching DVR’d episodes of The Hills over and over again in an effort to recapture my youth. Oh! Speaking of The Hills, we also saw Brody Jenner later that night…

Brody Jenner(ish) and the redheaded Zach Galifinakis…or a leprechaun.

Anyway, we went to The Ambassador and then wandered around Sandy Blvd until we accidentally found Chopsticks. We also did some kind of newscast with Superfan Erica while on Sandy. Melissa should be posting that video soon enough.

Chopsticks was the way it always is. Hot, smoky, weird crowd. I decided it would be a good idea to sing Lose Yourself by Eminem. I do not make good choices. But Erica sang Ludacris’ Stand Up and it was so good. SO GOOD.

I think I’m her Superfan now. Superfan Kiala.

I’m afraid I wasn’t much fun last night. I’ve got a lot of writing to do in the next few days and it’s my own fault and I can do it, but I’m a little…um…stifled because of it. I don’t manage stress well.

I ate some shrimp today. Sorry.