Vaguely Urban

How I Found My Long Lost Gay

Couple months back, an All-Attorney email came round from one of the IT guys up in our San Francisco office. Clint Taylor. 

Now Clint Taylor is the very name of one of my old buddies from college.  Well, not the very name, but the very first name, with an equally common last name. 

The reason I left the first name intact is that College Friend Clint taught me two very important things.  The first was how to be a Grade A fag hag.  Or more accurately, he provided me with sufficient opportunity to practice my haggery that I inevitably reached the pinnacle of fruit fly-dom.  It's still one of my most useful skills.

The second thing I learned from Clint Taylor is that, when your name is Clint, it is important to print it in block letters.  To write it in script is to invite confusion that your name is something that homos traditionally eschew:

I lost touch with Clint when I moved to New York (we had no Facebook in those days), so it was with fledgling hope in my heart that I replied to the IT Clint Taylor's email, saying I knew that his name wasn't the least common name ever, but was he perchance the Clint Taylor I knew from UCLA circa 1996?  Well, it's times like this that my singular first name is quite handy, because the answer came back immediately:

"Did you used to drive a Volvo?" Hell YES I used to drive a Volvo.  I'd found my Will Truman!  Clint Taylor!

I replied:
"Do you take care to write your name in block letters?"

Seconds later, my phone rang, and I was joyously reunited with my long lost gay.  I'll never lose him again! 

Friday Flotsam XV

Very sporting of you all to not point out my erroneous "XIV" last week.  Or maybe your Roman Numeraling Skills are just as crappy as mine.  Which puts just that much more pressure on me to get it together and be a Shining Example unto you. So this week I think I got it right.

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Is there anything funnier than when somebody pronounces "annals" as "anals"?  I mean, that's gotta go down in the anals of history as one of the funniest things ever.

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I decided my legal arguments would have increased oomph if I used more-contemporaneous analogies in my briefs.  "Plaintiff's exorbitant request for  damages is as laughable as Criss Angel's accent."  "Plaintiff's reliance on the Lindaugh case is misplaced.  Lindaugh has as much relevance to the instant case as does Winona Ryder to any casting decision since A Scanner Darkly."  And so forth.

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Apologies to Winona Ryder for the cheap shot.  That was mean.  Also I just IMDb'd her and I see she will be in the new Star Trek movie.  Plaintiff wins!  Also I made up the word "Lindaugh" by just type type typing away.  Don't go cite-checking it for God's sake.

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This weekend, the Magnum is going down. 

Or, as Eia put it, "Let's P.I. that bitch."  Took me a bit to figure out the reference.

   

Nancy Silverton Was There; Mario Batali Was Not

This web site was originally supposed to be kind of about Los Angeles.  Things quickly devolved into profanity and boob pictures, but back in the day it was at least ostensibly about the city I live in, the city of angels.

In a nod to the days before all the posts were about lots of booze and one small mutt, I wanted to tell you about a nifty little novelty that has popped up on The L.A. Restaurant Scene.

To celebrate Dave's new job, I made a resbian at Osteria Mozza, which is still pretty much reigning as the rad restaurant of the moment.  It was very delicious, and the space was beautiful.  But the part that was worth remarking upon was the doggie bag layaway.

Being a dainty flower, I was unable to finish my entree.  When I asked them to pack it for the road, they did, but instead of bringing a box or a molded foil swan, I got a small, stylish square of cardboard.

Claim check!  This way, I could collect my remaining ravioli on my way out at the end of the evening, rather than have them clutter the experience during dessert, cheese, coffee, and other requisite delicate flower courses.

It was pretty rad.

Friday Flotsam IVX

My masthead is restored to it's original splendor!  Many thanks to my awesome web designer. 

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I have never seen a single second of a single episode of The Hills.  I'm very ok with that.

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My friend Elizabeth from college didn't have a middle name until she was 16.  On the morning of her 16th birthday, her mom came into her room and told her that she had Elizabeth's birthday present, and it was a new middle name, and the middle name was Anna.  Elizabeth, re-telling this story in college, conveyed as sense of delight about the experience.  She adored the name from the start, and adored even more that her mom had thought about what would be a good name for her daughter.  Elizabeth's family was rather wealthy, lest you think that the gift was a sad attempt to cover for necessity.  I love this story, but it makes me think about how most of us are born with our names, and they are a part of us since before our memories begin.  We don't question them and most of us don't change them.  I mean, what if Elizabeth had hated the name Anna?  I guess plenty of women change their last name when they get married.  So that's kind of like a wedding present name.  As long as the new name is an upgrade, anyway.

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Speaking of milestones (flotsam segue!), today is Dave's last day at his firm.  He will be unemployed for precisely two days until Monday, when he starts his new gig, where he will hob nob with Hollywood royalty and maybe even stand at a urinal next to Will Ferrell or similar.  Certainly the holiday party will be better.  Dave kicked ass to score this job, and will kick ass at the job as well.  But wish him luck anyway, if you please!

I think it might be Sisyphus'

I Google-image-searched "smushed by work" and this is the first image that came up.

Yep, that looks about right.

(On the plus side, I've gotten to observe the night janitor staff rally to unionize in the courtyard below my window.  Collective action for the people at work!  En Espanol!) 

Friday Flotsam the XIIIth

1.  If I were to be turned all one color?  Like how Violet Beauregard was turned blueberry blue - including her hair, her skin, her eyes?  If that were to happen to me, and I got to choose the monotone?  I would choose to be the color of Special K.  It's such a pleasingly golden brown color.  Who wouldn't want to have tawny fawny hair and skin?  I'd be like a lightly toasted albino.

2.  Hey-o!!! After more than two years of blogging my tits off, I managed to get tagged with my very first meme.  And it's a deliciously brief yet challenging one: Write your own memoir in six words.  Here's mine:

Rarely appropriate; usually, not a problem.

Tagged are: Melati, B32, The Spoon, Jessica, Routine Mom, and KT.  These are going to be freaking sweet.

3.  Oh, and I have no effing idea what is up with my banner.  Or lack thereof.  The result of my attempt upload a witty photo to my about page.  In better blog-housekeeping news, I think I successfully got vaguelyurban.com to re direct here.  Before, it required the www prefix.  Typepad giveth, and Typepad taketh away.

Jack Sprat Got Big And Fat

Here's what a normal Jack Russell Terrier looks like:

Here's what my auntie's Jack Russell looks like:

Minnie pup is such a loving little girl, and it's not her fault that she packs lots of bouncey ounceys.  My auntie's mama, who turns 90 this year, is incorrigible with her non-stop parade of treats and table scraps. 

And here we have a more peripheral view of Minnie's girth, as well as a nice rear view of Minnie's sister, Mugsy.

Plenty of junk in the trunk!  Seriously, have you ever seen a dog with a huge ol' butt?  I mean, she looks like one of those rap guys girlfriends. But cut a bitch a break - we've caught her in the middle of a full bore lizard hunt. 

Also, these two rollie pollies are visiting us from Canadia.  It's important to wear lots of layers in Winnipeg.

Ultimately, you'll forgive the 1:1 waist to hip ratio in exchange for the opportunity to snuggle up to a perfectly plumped living pillow in your reptile-free home.  

Infant-ry

Every other Wednesday, Ana comes to perform a little housekeeping magic on our pad.  She is a complete delight, and does a fabulous job.  Also she has a lot of power over us because she knows all the secret information that lurks in our hampers and nightstands and trashcans.

While I am mindful of that power, I still have to publically wonder whether Ana is deliberately making humorous homekeeping choices, or if she is just weird.  There are the usual things that privileged assholes jibe about their housekeepers - the Tupperware tucked in among the china; the sofa cushions replaced upside down.  That stuff isn't really noteworthy.  But other of Ana's choices are.  Any given Wednesday, I'll come home to something like this:

Those are Tic-Tac-sized plastic babies leftover from a shower I threw a couple months ago.  I have no idea where Ana dug them up.

Babies: Commence platoon formation! Hup!

Friday Flotsam XII

I once read that companies like to use blue in their packaging because Studies Show That Blue Packaging Sells.

Looking at my drugstore.com order, blue seems to work on my demographic.

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The following is a representative sample of the music I just tried to buy on iTunes but was unable to buy on iTunes because Dave isn't home and I was thwarted in my attempt to break into Dave's iTunes account.  I might add that spousal identity theft is the indicated course of action when husband guy goes off to eat fancy gourmet grilled cheese with his fabulous gay friend and leaves me home with a bowl of nonfat unsweetened yogurt.  There's nothing so dear to me as fancy gourmet grilled cheese and fabulous gays.  And, whatever, we're in a community property state.  More importantly, I deserved some compensatory iTunes and so had devised the following iRetribution:

Madonna feat Timberlake/aland - 4 Minutes
Morrissey - Sing Your Life
Hera - Feels So Good
Iggy Pop and Kate Pierson (from the days when there was no "feat") - Candy
The new REM album
David Cook's cover of Hello.  boy am I glad this site is anonymous.

But then iTunes started being a little bitch and refused to work.  My consolation is that I am watching Sixteen Candles and Jake Ryan is so distractingly dreamy and beauteous.  If I have a baby boy someday, I'm going to name him Jake Ryan.  Because I totally can.

*Updated to add*
I cracked the code and got into Dave's account.  MWAH HA HA.  But I wussed out and put in my own credit card.    When faced with putting my money when my mouth is, I went through with all of the above picks except they didn't have the Hera song and the REM album was way overpriced.

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And finally, some timely propaganda for my team.  GOOOOO BRUINS!
  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r9Ag_TLtDLU