And, it has a super fun Museum of the American Cocktail.

Ok. This? Mr. Jane must see. You guys rock as tour guides.

I miss y'all beyond the reasonable point that you should miss people you've never met. I just don't get much down time at work. By the time I get home it's walk the dogs, workout and bed. I read a good bit, but never post. Stuff I'd post about is past before I get a chance. For instance, It's Eddy not Eddie (Something earlier about Mary Baker, my step family is of the Eddys). And, people asking if your boobs are real or fake? Have that convo at least 3 times a month.

Have that convo at least 3 times a month.

With who? And does it bother you?

I am sushied up and happy. Well, sated. But no drunken bon. So not all happy.

Off to peek at some more S1 Deadwood before bed.

Have that convo at least 3 times a month.

Yeah, well, you're sort of a special case in that regard.

::sigh::

When are we going to get you out to San Francisco, anyway?

Those bookcases are awesome, beth. I have been out-bookcased, I admit it.

Yay for home-on-her-own-couch JZ!

I'd call or email and politely decline attending the reception. I like my weddings more fun and less spendy, to borrow a phrase.

Daisy! So good to see you here, I was just wondering where you'd gotten to. Sorry the work is keeping you away, but it's good to hear you're happy there.

With who? And does it bother you?

Sometimes random people, sometimes people I kind of know. People who've known me forever know I've had them since round about the 5th grade (not as big, but they've been there). When I started my job (it was all women at the time) it was office gossip until someone asked.

It doesn't bother me anymore. I guess I'd rather someone ask than have it be gossip. Also, real vs. fake is the least trouble they cause. Guys you used to be friends with trying to cop a feel, being cast in the role of slut, finding appropriate clothing that neither reveals too much nor makes you look like you're wearing a mumu or have a uniboob, those are bigger issues for me.

When are we going to get you out to San Francisco, anyway?

You know, in January I have 2 weeks vacation. Mardi gras will take a weekend, but after that we may go. My friend Sarah loves San Francisco, and I've promised to go with her.

Guys you used to be friends with trying to cop a feel, being cast in the role of slut, finding appropriate clothing that neither reveals too much nor makes you look like you're wearing a mumu or have a uniboob, those are bigger issues for me.

Ahah. Mine aren't that big, at least not to me. I used to be more concerned with how they look in clothing, but fuck it. I'm too tired to deal with that these days. Some of my clothes are tight, some these days plunge (but never at work), and I deal with it as a dare to the world at large, more than anything else.

No one's taken it to my face, really--the woman who asked was looking at me in workout clothes, and high-necked to boot. I was just wearing what genes gave me at that point, plus a great sports bra.

You know, in January I have 2 weeks vacation. Mardi gras will take a weekend, but after that we may go. My friend Sarah loves San Francisco, and I've promised to go with her.

Sweet! You two show up, and I'll treat you right. I owe you for missing the NOLA F2F.

Plus you can play with the baby.

Yay, Zmayhem baby!

Sarah actually requires that any guy she dates must like San Francisco. It's a thing with her.

ION. It rained! The whole bar poured out into the parking lot to play in the rain. We're all three. Parched, dehydrated toddlers we are.

Also. I have the neediest little dog on the planet.

I was very excited to check my calendar and realize I'd be seeing you this month.

It's all true! For those who like to keep track of these things, I arrive at San Jose airport at 11:15 on 21 August, and leave on the 23rd at 9:08.