Silk shirts on my chest show what a flirt, Halle Berry blew a kiss at the Barbara Streisand concert

I feel like Jimmy Stewart but with a lost day instead of a lost weekend. I'm definitely glad I took yesterday off, but my timing is off and now I feel today is Tuesday. Which isn't necessarily a bad thing.

Last night I went back to therapy and it was mostly a catch-up session without much down-and-dirty. Then I hung out with De___ where we watched part of the movie "Slam" and then....don't laugh, because I have a good excuse....the premiere of the new season of "The Real World". Now, for the most part, I hate these shows. But sometimes they're great guilty pleasures the same way soap operas are. And I must admire the producers who edit 5 months of material into a 6 hour miniseries that's usually a coherent narrative and sometimes entertaining. But anyway, I watched because it's Real World: Chicago and I love seeing my (honorary) city in movies and on TV. And I'm also watching to see if I know any of the folks in the background. Last night the two queer characters took a cab ride through my neighborhood, and there were two scenes of bizarre window displays which came from a store literally 50 steps away from my apartment. I'm so easily amused. I'm also watching to see if I can catch glimpses of any of the protestors outside their gentrified apartment. My favorite parts of last night: the constant background of the Currency Exchange sign near the apartment and the one character talking about never experiencing an "interracial living experience". Wha? As my friend said, has she ever watched ANY episode of the show?
( I'm rather long-winded today )

Six times and it's still not old

At the copier I briefly engaged in banter with the private attorney who shares our office. I said something regarding the Sun-Times headline declaring "U.S. Traitor Won't Face Death", and she replied to my comment by saying dryly, "well, Ray, how buddhist of you." Which was startling since I don't talk to this person often and we know virtually nothing about each other at all. Funny how things seem to float to the surface anyway, and get picked up on in casual conversation and interactions.

Apparantly yesterday morning it was snowing a bit. I don't remember that, but my livejournal says so, so it must be true. That's what happens when I post early in the morning. But now it's REALLY snowing. In the middle of a snow globe snowing. And despite me being in Chicago for more than 6 years now, I still haven't got used to it. It still seems magical. (I feel like Kate Hudson playing Drew Barrymore when I say that word.)

The snow is quite beautiful. Those large flakes that seem to drift in 360 angles all at once. Horrible for driving in, so I'm sorry for those folks. But I'm actually looking forward to the train ride home itself.

You can be sure,
Some will owe to get high,
You may hurt till you cry
You may die... (you may die)
Keep on trying
Till it's summer, in the city
Till it's summer, in the city

Lately I've been loving this 'song'. Too bad it's really only a vignette.

oh my.

I stumbled upon a most wondrous site with numerous pics of tranny cocks. Don't click here if you're at work. Though I guess that didn't stop me. And I don't even have an office. I'm such an exhibitionist. Or more accurately, REALLY quick on the alt-tab draw.

But back to the topic of porn.....this past weekend I ordered some more movies from my favorite cheap online porn provider. Bringing me the best in silly-plot, hetero, quasi-erotic movies for my entertainment. Now if only I could find the gay equivalent. Any suggestions welcome. Though in this order I am getting a Paul Thomas flick, and he seems to be quite the favorite among folks, namely the Good Vibrations staff. My previous favorite trashy hetero porn director is Michael Raven. I'm such a fcking nerd, even when it comes to non-academic matters, I know. But I'm certainly not a connossieur by any means. I would never make any recommendations to anyone because I have very little expertise in the field. I have an interest in the reading the book History of X by Luke Ford, even though he's supposedly the Andrew Sullivan of the porn industry. Or something like that.

My collection is rather embarassing -- not because I'm ashamed to own porn, but because I'm ashamed that I don't invest time and money in owning good porn. But for the most part I'd rather spend the money on another guilty pleasure like a video game, because I'd get more hours of enjoyment out of it.