For My Beloved Grandmother

My grandmother requested that I write about more than Maximo, and as she’s 25% of my audience, I must obey her commands.

I’m bumming around Seattle these days. I got here last Wednesday and finally got to shave my legs. That was a big moment on my trip. I can’t quite figure out why, but something about Oregon caused me to stop shaving my legs. But I knew Mackenzie would kick me out on my ass if I tried to pull that shit round here, so back to shaving!

In other news, I pulled my back out a bit on Friday. That put a damper on the weekend, but it did provide and excuse to drink all weekend. It wasn’t too bad, not spasming or anything, but it hurt and I didn’t want to it get worse, so we stayed in for much of the weekend. Mackie and I went shopping on Saturday and I got some cardigans because it’s cold and wet in Seattle. Go figure. I overheard a great bit of conversation while hanging around the store:

Woman 1: Wait, is he black or white?
Woman 2: No, he’s British.
Woman 1: Ok.

Because British is an acceptable answer to that question.

That night we stayed in again and watched Flight of the Concords, Dirty Dancing and St. Elmo’s Fire. Which started me on a bit of an Andrew McCarthy kick. I’ve renamed the cat Blane in anticipation of the day I watch Pretty in Pink. I think I might cut my hair short and sew two dresses together for the occasion. I watched Mannequin and some crappy movie about him inheriting a church in England tonight. He pulled off a terrible southern accent for that one and I’m still not sure if he was supposed to have some sort of mental handicap or if I’m just attributing some Forrest Gump characteristics because of the accent. And after watching these movies I will cry myself to sleep tonight wishing I had been born early enough to better experience his 80's glory.

This morning we went to brunch with Mackie’s work friends and their boyfriends/husbands. I was the seventh wheel, but it wasn’t bad because I got a mimosa.

I ordered some books today in a fit of weakness. Russell Brand’s new book looks amazing and who could pass up a title like “My Booky Wook?” I also read an excerpt and he tosses around some fairly big words, so my vocabulary also stands to benefit. The other book is a feminist revaluation of Gone with the Wind that thankfully someone else wrote, saving me the time and energy.

I’ve updated my resume and I’m going to start looking for work soon. I’m going to look in both Seattle and Portland. Because if I live in Oregon, I won’t have to shave my legs.