Archive for July, 2006

Sun Valley

This is a great festival.

Sun Valley is bea-UT-iful.  As soon as I rolled up, and saw the mountains, I felt all of the stress drain out of me.  I love mountains.  I have never before seen mountains like these.  Idaho mountains don’t really have trees.  The mountains are covered in small shrubs, which gives the appearance of them being nearly bald.  Not so much bald, as covered in green peach fuzz.  The mountains have a sort of adolescent thing about them.  They seem like teenage boys, all huge and adult sized, but still sort of sweet and vulnerable.  When I get home I’ll show you all some pictures of the weird mountains.

Sun Valley is for rich people.  REALLY rich people.  There is an atmosphere of affluence here unlike anywhere I have ever been.  The thing that is so strange is that I feel like there are only rich people here.  I don’t know where the normal folks are, there must be some around here somewhere- somebody has to work in all the boutiques.  Today in front of the grocery store I saw a Mercedes with some sort of weird fancy pure bred dog sitting in the front seat.  The very expensive dog was wearing a seat belt. 

The internet situation is bleak.  I am currently at the public library.  I’ll try to post as much as I can, but don’t hold your breath.



Tomorrow I am off to Idaho.  I have no idea what kind of internet service I will be dealing with in Sun Valley, but I suspect it will be tricky to post.  I need a laptop- bad.  The good news is that it looks like the schedule will be a lot more relaxed in Idaho than it was at Apple Hill.  Hopefully, I will be able to spare the time to waste on whatever rusty-old-public-library-dial-up-computer-from-the-dawn-of-time I can locate.  I’ll do my best to post on location. 

On a totally different subject…..

I got an email from the woman who adopted Trixie today.  Apparently Trixie has made friends with the male cat and the two of them hang out all day together. And get this- they sleep together. This is mind blowing on so many levels.  I never EVER would have guessed that Trixie would be such a champ after her big transition.  I have been waiting to get the email from Alicia telling me that Trixie murdered the dog and burned down the house, but it hasn’t come.  Apparently, Trixie is happy.  This fills my heart with joy and also makes me a little sad.

I can’t believe she got over me so quickly. 

I’m not quite done with this drama.  I’m not as ready to move on.  I mean, I know that things were not perfect between us and we had been drifting apart for a long time, but……dang.  After I dumped Trixie, I sort of expected her to send me long winded poetry, or call me all desperate after a night of too much to drink.  I guess that technically I’m the one who broke it off between us, but I never expected her to just move on as if our relationship meant absolutely nothing.

That’s just cold, Trixie.  How about a little respect for the love that we shared?

I’ll never get oooh-virrrrr yooou, getting ooooh-viiiirrrrrr meeeeee.


Img_2168Please say a little prayer for this pair of shoes.  Currently they are suffering from extreme and debilitating stinkyness.  As you can see, they are semi-sandals, meant to be worn without socks. I love these shoes so much that I have worn them (more or less) every warm day since I bought them two years ago.   The combination of no socks, enclosed toes, and summertime heat have created an odor that I (or anyone near me) can ignore no longer.   Throughout the day today I have been scrubbing and Febrezing.  I won’t know until morning if my beloveds can be saved.Tomorrow I leave for Sun Valley, Idaho- summer home of Demi Moore, Tom Hanks, and John Kerry.  I am afraid that I will meet Tom Hanks, he will smell my feet, and refuse to be my new BFF.   

I don’t think I can bear to lose another friend because of stinky feet.


Sophie’s Dinner Choice

If you had to choose, for the rest of your life, would you pick alcohol or cheese? 

A life without alcohol.  A life without cheese.


How about chocolate or cheese?

Salt or sugar?


Now I’m not going to be able to sleep tonight.


It is pretty lonely at home without Trixie.  Every time I walk through the door I am a little sad when she isn’t there to greet me for a belly rub.  I have also come to realize that Trixie represented a good excuse to talk to myself all day long.  Without Trixie, I am simply a kook, babbling alone.  I miss her. 

Because getting out of town was so hectic I left my apartment a bit messy.  One of the most depressing things about returning home was the realization that although Trixie has moved to Batavia, her hair is still all over my apartment.  Today I started thoroughly cleaning.   Since I am seldom motivated to really clean (I am an expert at the 30 minute superficial wipe down), it is quite a chore when I finally get down to business.  I don’t know how normal people clean, but I seem to need to pull everything apart and then reassemble.  My apartment currently looks like a bomb exploded in here which is a bit worrisome considering I am leaving again on Saturday morning and I am working quite a bit in the next two days.  Oh well.  Operation Vacuum Cat Hair moves valiantly forward.

Speaking of hair, I got a hair cut today- just a trim to remove all of the frizzy split ends.  I have been rocking the long hair all year.  My normal guy costs almost seventy dollars after tip, and the last time I got a cut not one person noticed.  My hair is long, curly, and layered.  It is pretty hard to screw my hair up since it contains no straight lines.  I seriously considered cutting my own hair this morning, but thankfully I came to my senses before I took a pair of dull office scissors to my tresses.  I decided on a compromise between a self butchering, and my overpriced regular gay guy, Angel (pronounced Anhel).  I went to Supercuts.  You’re not going to believe this, but a hair cut at Supercuts is eleven dollars and fifty cents.  I tipped the gal $3.50, and got out of there for an even $15.  Maybe I am smoking crack, but I think my hair looks perfectly nice, certainly better than when I walked into Supercuts.  Until I decide it’s time to get a dramatically shorter hair-do, Supercuts is the place for me.

$11.50, people.

Happy Birthday, You Old Bag!


There are few people in the world more fantastic than Elise.  Elise has a positive energy unlike anyone else on earth.  Part of the reason I love Apple Hill is that it provides me an annual opportunity to laugh my ass off for two weeks with Elise.

Elise is the violinist in the Apple Hill Chamber Players, and she and I attended Oberlin together.  Our birthdays are four days apart (mine was on Saturday) and every summer at Apple Hill we celebrate by referring to one another as "You Old BAG!"  This year she kept threatening to present me with an actual old bag for my birthday, but the remote nature of Apple Hill means there is not much opportunity for thrift store shopping. 

My birthday fell on the day of the three hour (no intermission) end-of-session concert.  One of the greatest miracles of Apple Hill is that rather than wanting to kill myself during this potentially mind numbing concert, each year I am riveted.  Riveted .  This year I was especially entertained because as each group came out (there were 17 groups) they taped a letter to the wall of the barn/concert hall.  By the end of the concert, the barn looked like this:



Today Elise turns 31.  Remember Elise, 31 is a prime number.  Prime number = prime of life. 

Happy Birthday, You Old Bag!   I love you, man.

The Devil Shops at TJ Maxx

On our day off from coaching at Apple Hill, Aurie, Elise, Sally, Iris, and I went to a matinee showing of The Devil Wears Prada.  So much fun.  The theater was next door to a TJ Maxx, and with our appetite for clothing whetted by the movie, we all agreed that a little shopping was in order. 

Most of the people who read this website know me, and most people who know me will agree that I am not a particularly fashion conscious person.  I wear concert black, or jeans and a t-shirt.   My penchant for comfortable clogs is well documented.  I seldom wear any makeup beyond lipstick and some eyeliner, and I wish I was joking when I tell you I get my hair cut an average of twice a year.  I’m pretty much oblivious to fashion- but I’m also pretty much always comfortable.

Which is why I cannot believe I now own the following items:



My only defense is that I was utterly intoxicated by the pretty clothing in the movie.   I shopped under the influence of influence. 

Go see The Devil Wears Prada, but when you do, be warned: after the movie you will have to learn how to walk in stilettos. 

Good luck.