I've even raped and killed a mountain panda in the hills of Shaanxi.

The Ballard Alehouse burgers approach Southern levels of tastiness.

Coolest thing ever?

Last night we went to Spice, which is so new it apparently doesn't exist. Anyway it's on 5th and Blanchard and it's a little yuppie (moreso because of the terrible music), but the fusion of Indian and Chinese with Nouvelle works really, really damn well. I mean, omfg.

And then as if I wasn't feeling full enough, Reg suggested ice cream for dessert. I got "The Last Straw" in a chocolate-dipped waffle cone, or should I say a waffle dipped chocolate cone. I only ate half of it. I was initially joking with reg that I only wanted a cone, with nothing in it, just a dry cone, and of course he made some sort of sexual innuendo about how I wanted something in it last night.

I was so fucking sleepy after all that food that I agreed to watch Matrix 3. It was just as confusing the first time, and I fell asleep after Neo lost his vision anyway.

Will anyone admit to liking Oasis?

Despite 30 years of living in Seattle, my boyfriend's mother has never had Pho, so she decided that would be her m-day dinner. Well, whatever. Reg and I are afficianandos so we explained everything to her, from the french coffee to the reason the place she picked was inauthentic. Also, bubble tea. Anyway it was nice, and afterwards we went to the B&N downtown so I could get my mom's present (I suck, but I am also poor) and then organic goods at the Ballard Market. I bought Brown Cow yogurt, which is made from all kinds of yummy stuff like maple syrup and full-fat milk with no hormones. Also, chocolate.

I watched the rest of Angels in America finally. It's six hours long, see, and Reg found it too overwrought to watch, so I kindly waited till he was otherwise occupied. It's hard to explain, really, just about a bunch of gay men with AIDS being able to see visions and ghosts, and their friends and other people they touch. Metaphorically. Read drsaddam's journal for more info.

Also finished Aztec and Middlesex. Both very good, although the latter is much better, one of those can't-put-down books. Former about an old Indian in 1540 or so, telling the Spanish about his life, over 1000 pages. Latter about a hermaphrodite and her/his geneology. Both of these books involved sister-fucking, but I would still recommend them.

I read Miss last night. So fucking good. Also started watching The Thin Man but my jaw started to ache again. Oh, stupid pain, you make me so boring.

And that Simpsons episode where the kids sing the Armour Hot Dogs song. And Lisa asks if the family knows any songs not from commercials, and they all start singing "I FEEL LIKE CHICKEN TONIGHT". Always cut from syndication so I hadn't seen it years.

Eat club tonight?
edit: at Cauelita's 8pm

I love the way Brits say "brocco-LIE". It's so cute.

I spent most of last night talking to xkissikx and scarlett723 on AIM before we had to go out. Convinced her to come to the People's Pub. Heather, not alyssa. Anyway. It was me and Reg and Steve and Cristin and Heather and Jeremy and Quent. It was too loud to talk a ton, but that didn't stop some people. It was nice. And then a couple ppl came back for some ATHF. I went to bed b/c my fucking jaw aches.

THE END

I am finally feeling better. I whipped that headache into shape and packed some more, then we had Pies (but no Pints) and then bought shit at Fred Meyer for the new place, and put it there (I inaguarated the toilet) and then went home and packed some more. Also there was a shower in there somewhere. I was beat and wanted to sleep. So I did.

The last dream I remember was some cop taking me on a secret Seattle route to avoid rush-hour traffic on I-5.

Anyway. I've been reading a bunch of stuff about how this generation is afraid to grow up. Whether it's emotional or financial fears. Which is utterly strange to me because a) I grew up in Louisiana and b) I went to Duke. Almost everyone I had a casual acquaintance with in either of these two categories is currently married if not having-been-married-for-years. Of course, I think of expensive private colleges as breeding grounds for upper-class snobs, and back home everyone is still expected to get married in college at the latest. My brother was 22, I mean.

But my closest friends weren't anywhere near marriage or expecting to get married when I graduated, and this seems to still be the case, so I always thought those people who were rushing into adulthood were freaks. On the other hand we did all have good decent jobs and probably could have bought houses if we wanted to. This was before the dot-com economy collapsed on itself, things are different now, but even then the mentality of not wanting "responsibility" was omnipresent. I had enough trouble taking care of a pair of gerbils.

The bride in one of the first post-college weddings I attended later slept with a friend of mine, which further led me to believe that these people weren't rushing to adulthood so much as running away from childhood. Fear of being alone, yadda yadda yadda. It's a lot harder to be alone at 21 than 28.