Nyotaimori

for the last week i’ve been house-sitting at the larson’s where i had a sushi party, went swimming in the freezing cold pool, got quite sunburned, and the dog ate away more of the door. sigh. but as i’ve been there and not at my own house i’ve fallen a bit behind on picture uploading. so this morning i put up pictures from the sushi party, painting my bedroom, and my brother’s roommate’s new puppy.

winner: kentucky

1st runner up: california

2nd runner up: georgia

3rd runner up: ohio

4th runner up: florida

tonight was the miss usa pageant. an event which i find to be both fantastic and dreaded. fantastic because you’re betting on beauty queens and calling them horrific names and dreaded because, well, have you seen a beauty queen lately? did she have all her ribs or her original breasts? no. she really didn’t. honey, eat some pure lard. please.

this year was a great triumph for marina. a triumph at least in terms of winning. but it was her method of winning which caused great doubt to be cast on the overall success. first of all she had a spreadsheet. but more importantly, she had an intern who helped create the spreadsheet. no one else had a lackey. hell, i don’t even have a job. and jason IS an intern, so you can see how he would have some issues with the subservient labor-ness of it all.

on the other hand, i had 4 in the top 5 to marina’s 5 out of 5, so i’m not really complaining. obviously all those hours of not having a job and surfing missusa.com really paid off. erica, interestingly had the same 4 as me. but she wasn’t physically present at christine’s so it didn’t count. suck it, erica, just suck it.

of course, the most important prize in my win was not making erica suck it, but being given jolie’s left-over seseame beef. jolie, you are my hero. i only could have been happier if i’d been in pajamas, instead of a bridesmaid’s dress, like carolyn. oh carolyn, ye of the wise, wise dressing. i performed stunt driving when i left as i desperately tried to undo my bra and rip it off. because i have all my ribs still and that underwire was crushing them. cursed dress-up clothing.

ilka called kentucky as the winner at the very beginning but foolishly hadn’t managed to put her on his list, so he had to berate himself all evening. matt kept hoping that new york would make a comeback. i’m sure if she had just pulled her weave out of the way and pushed the play button she could have hyper-drived right out of her paused bottom 36 position. jason managed to rank his last 2 choices in the right order and so technically did sort of win, but happily we went with the most winners in the top 5 approach this time and i graciously re-accepted the tiara which was already nestled in my upswept ‘do.

at the end, i finally remembered that i brought my camera and we made ilka take pictures of us. he gamely snapped away as we attempted to stop laughing at our mimicry of the final, super tense, moment of miss usa 2006 where california pulled kentucky into this strangly erotic position and held her there. she probably knew she wasn’t going to win and wanted to cop a feel while she had the chance. more power to you, california. respect.

and peace out.

on our trip to monterey, erica and i discovered that we were both harboring a secret desire for lingerie. “garter belts,” we shrieked at each other in glee, “i must have one!”

for me this desire was brought on by 1) recently reading Micah, the newest Laurell K. Hamilton book about Anita Blake (vampire executioner and necromancer), and 2) wearing thigh high panty hose to an interview and wishing i had something sexy to hold them up with. this interview, mind, was on a high school campus which basically meant that i was shivering with ill-disguised desire the entire time. just think about how much more involved my fantasy life could be if i was wearing a garter belt.

i don’t know why erica wants one. hopefully her fantasy life does not involve her kindergarteners.

today we went to a boutique in berkeley where isabelle, a crazy accented foreigner, determined erica’s bra size and pushed her breasts around. i hid in a corner trying in vain to cling to the garter belt fantasy, which was hard in the face of the possibility of a stranger touching my chest.

but this is the age of the internet, not aquarius. and i will get a garter belt, i will, i will.

our trip to monterey started out innocently enough this morning with me being 20 minutes late to pick people up. by the end of the night, however, we were pretending to be tiny cock mountain climbers in need of baked beans for the campout.

how did we get to such delinquency, you might ask. well, i think it started when i suggested people should go fishing for fudge in my cleavage. from there it was a logical progression to the fetish of being little tiny people having sex and exploring the body of your lover in minute detail.

you might start out at the toes, being all, ‘you’re so big. and i’m so wee. i’m just going to start here with this little tiny toe and move my way over to the big toe. then i’ll have to take a break for a bit because i’ll be a little tuckered out.’

after the break, you’d start up again, but you’d only get to the knee before you needed to set up camp and pitch the tent. at which point, it might become incumbent upon you to call up top, ‘can you send a can of beans down here?’ in a tiny little tinny voice. to assuage the hunger of being such a small sexual explorer only a fourth of the way up the body. and also to be a little bit of a brokeback mountain referencer.

today was a good day. a day of sunshine spent looking at fishes, otters, and octopi. i pet starfish and bat rays. the bat rays were kind of fuzzy even, so that was satisfying. there was lunch and dinner, a bookstore and fudge. and much driving with silliness by all four parties involved. and now there’s some pictures too.

i learned many fun facts this evening of debauchery. fun tidbits which i will now share here.

1. the make-out room makes really strong drinks. like seriously crazy strong. i had one rum and coke and was pretty damn drunk. admittedly i had only eaten one bagel today. but still. erica fared no better, but also hadn’t eaten.

2. matt peed on the street again. but not tonight.

3. talking about oral sex in front of your parents is ok if you’re a stand-up comedian. i decided to try it when i got home.

me: so mom, the other day this guy was licking out my pussy…

mom: must have gotten a hairball.

me: (pause) well, i do try to keep it nicely groomed, so i don’t know…

mom: well, i know her fur is very soft, but moo cow is still a cat.

me: uh, i think we’ve got our pussy wires crossed here.

4. if you have an angora rabbit DO NOT, under any circumstances, harvest its fur, make it into yarn, and create hats. this is just not something i’m prepared to accept. i put up with a lot of weird behavior from my friends, but if you give me a rabbit hat, i’m holding back my hair weave and spitting in your mouth.

5. the last sentence in #4 might make more sense if you watched ‘flavor of love’ on VH1. i haven’t watched it. erica and matt can do some truly *interesting* impressions from it though.

**no cats or rabbits were harmed in the making of this blog**