Make it better

You know what I love? Clean sheets on a warm bed and a small animal curled up asleep next to my legs. It's a little slice of paradise, right there. Until, of course, the small animal wakes up and starts practicing his hunting skills on my feet, but hey, that won't happen for another three hours, and he's so cute right there, and he's keeping my legs warm. Actually, Charles did wake me up at three am, but he didn't get violent, so I just pushed him off the bed and went back to sleep. I think he got back on the bed, but he just sat there and totally didn't attack me. Let's hope this is the beginning of a new nightly pattern. The waking up I can tolerate--it's the unexpected pain that makes me cranky.

So I bought Joshua Radin's Unclear Sky EP on iTunes, because he has a duet with Ingrid Michaelson on it, and yesterday was new music Tuesday (uh, even though this came out last Tuesday--whatever! Last week was busy), and god knows I haven't given Apple enough of my money yet, but now I really want to go to the Hotel Cafe tour. But it's in Boston on a random Tuesday, and Jess, the only person I'd be able to drag with me, probably won't be able to go. Or won't be enticed enough by any of these folk rockers to blow off whatever she might have goin' on. I know she likes Ingrid, but probably not enough. Oh, well, we have our A Fine Frenzy tickets--that'll have to be good enough. And then Mike and I are going to see Margaret Cho in April. All paltry substitutes for the only band I really want to see. Joshua Radin also sounds better when he's singing with a girl. Alone, I'm...not as impressed. Stop whispering or something. And who is this girl who isn't Ingrid Michaelson singing with him? I really want to see her live. Ingrid, that is, not mystery woman. Maybe I'll just go alone. No. I totally won't.

The other day, Liz decided to give me a list of girls she approved of me dating. She got distracted, but the first two were La, a bartender at the only gay club in New Hampshire, and the girl at Bath & Body Works I have a stupid crush on. I was like, "Thanks, Liz--one's straight and the other has a girlfriend." Very helpful. Liz also started this other thing by telling me that someone told her I had a crush on some other girl at Bath & Body Works, which is a lie, but I found it so amusing that I told everyone else this story, and I have been referring to this girl as my girlfriend ever since. Anyway, last night Kaeli told me that someone told the girlfriend I had a new girlfriend, and she got all butthurt. Kaeli actually said butthurt! That was my favorite thing Carlos and I used to say about our wet blanket friends when they acted all wet-blankety. Also, I was like, "So...who is my new girlfriend?" And Kaeli said Keri said something about how I came into the store "with some chick," and I was like, "Christ, that happened at least a month ago." Keri is still hung up on the time I went into the store with Allison because she needed some black raspberry vanilla something or blah, blah, whatever, and I wanted to go to the mall because I needed a coat or something. I mean, Allison is a babe, but I told Keri she wasn't my girlfriend, Jesus. Oh the tangled gay web of Bath & Body Works! Meanwhile, I remain the only lesbian employed at that location.

Do you know what I wish for, sometimes, late at night? That some lady artist would do a cover of The Turtles' "Happy Together." I totally love that song (oh, shut up), but I think I'd enjoy it even more if a girl would sing it. Okay, so apparently some betches have redone "Happy Together," but I've never heard of any of them, and the 30-second iTunes clips I listened to were all hideous. I'm really not sure who, specifically, I'd want to sing this song for me, but... I still want to hear it done well by a girl.

I am still drooling over the new iPod classic with its fancy new interface and 160GB hard drive. Now that I've been ripping DVDs onto my iMac, I have used all but 3GB of space on my iPod's 80GB hard drive. However, just as I resisted buying the iPod video until my other iPod died, I will have to resist buying the iPod classic until this iPod dies. Maybe by then, the iPod touch will have a decent hard drive, and I can get one of those. They're also pretty drool-worthy.

Once upon a time, Erin asked me if I had any KT Tunstall in my iTunes library, and I was like, "No. I actually kind of can't stand her." What does that even mean? How is it possible to "kind of" not stand someone? I suppose that was my way of softening it or something, but this is the bald-ass truth: I can't stand KT Tunstall. She's not as bad as Colbie Caillat, my own personal scourge, but she's still pretty bad.

So I got two ultra-fab voicemails from Mike yesterday. The first: "Hey, I was just calling to say hi, because I was doing the dishes this morning, and I found some old meat in the sink, and it made me think of you, so...give me a call back!" The second: "Hey, you rancid slut, what're you doing? Working? Come over after work and bring beer!" As tempting as the latter message was, I did not go over to his house at 10:45 last night with a case of Bud Light. I didn't even call him back. Take that! But we're supposed to hang out tonight, so I think we can include a case of beer in this evening's activities. I also talked to Sarah last night, and she was like, "Are you still working at Bath & Body Works? How the hell do you do that?" (Except she didn't say "hell," because she's a good Catholic girl.) Oh, it isn't easy, my friend, and I sure do need a week off. From both jobs. To do other important things, like sleep, open a savings account, get an oil change, put the process of getting a passport into motion, do laundry, play with Charles, read the Iliad, watch Netflix flicks and Brandi Carlile youtube videos, and sleep. Oh my god, that sounds amazing. Okay, after the next catalog cycle ends, I am taking a vacation! Wee!