At the eleventh hour I've decided to head to Denver for the holiday weekend -- soak up some suburbia, veg with the parentals and see some good friends. It'll be hard to cram everything into three days...but the alternative of staying here with the Wonder Cat with not much planned seemed seriously lame. Actually looking forward to that Olive Garden hospitaliano.

On another note, a shout out to my H5 home girl who headed back to the East Coast yesterday -- safe travels. Good luck on your journey, sista friend. I'll try and send out good vibes your way for some tranquility (i.e., hoping things chill the heck out with EVERYONE) and prosperity (i.e., hoping you make a buttload of money) while you get settled.

How many times has this happened to you: You're sitting there, eating a banana, and suddenly you realize that not only are you eating a nutritious piece of fruit, but also a prime spot of advertising real estate?

If you said never, then welcome to my club. And yet, the other day, right on my banana was a tiny little sticker that said "See Garfield: The Movie!".

Advertising on bananas? Really people? We've run out of media outlets and now we're pushing messages and ads onto fruit? I need some Remax-sponsored green tea to deal with this...

Open Letter to the Group of Men at the Gas Station This Weekend Wearing Nothing But Electric Blue Hot Pants and Platform Boots:

Gentlemen:

Sorry for the staring and gawking. I forgot it was Pride this weekend and as diverse as my neighborhood is, you threw me a bit. The body glitter didn't help either. It's not often one sees a trio of 7 foot tall men with chiseled abs walking around in hot pants. Many could argue it's not often enough.

Anyhoo -- hope you all had a fabulous day and found somewhere to have dinner. I disagree with your intital choice of Subway and hope you found someplace nicer to go.

How amazing is Stephen Merritt?

He's pretty darned amazing. Picked up the new Magnetic Fields CD this weekend and have fallen for them all over again. Really, anything that features songs like "I Don't Really Love You Anymore," and "I Wish I Had An Evil Twin" is an instant hit with me.

For some nice reading material, The Onion has a kick-ass interview here with Mr. Merritt.

Blissful, blissful Saturday. The sun is shining, it's warm and summer-y and I've got lemon sherbert, so all is well with the world.

I experienced a pomogranate mimosa for the first time this morning at brunch. Deeee-lish. Made me feel like I was drinking something healthy, with the added benefit of alcohol in the morning.

Headed to Portland tomorrow for a business trip, so sit tight kids while I'm away from blogging land for a few days...

Theme for this evening is change. I'm thinking of moving into a new place, and just got back from viewing some potential options. Most were smaller than I envisioned. A lot smaller. Which isn't bad, it's just...different. I'm sitting here trying to picture all of my furniture in a new environment, and then wondering if I might have to get rid of some things.

But. So. Hmmmm. Just contemplating potential changes in life and my environment. Very perplexed now. Change is hard. I think there's a reason I've not moved in eight years...this is really taxing my brain tonight.

Oh Morrissey, you're just having a tough time these days, aren't you pal?

First people are all up in a wad about your recent remarks about President Bush. Now they go and cancel Lollapalooza?

Well I still believe in you, old friend. Sure I haven't bought your new album yet (or the last one before that) although when I walked through a record store recently and they put the new one on, I got all nostalgic and excited and angsty.

Hang in there.

Okay, phew. I'm done with my open letter writing for a while now -- due in part to the adorable turquoise handbag I found to make up for my frustration. It's all better now....

I've been very zen all weekend and have even started a new knitting project -- yes, it's another scarf and no I'm not ready to move on to any projects that involve anything more complicated than a straight line. It's really the only productive thing I can do in this heat -- I feel like a giant lump of inactivity.

All in all, the weekend tally:

Adorable Handbag Count: 1
Infomercials watched: 400 +
Naps taken: 2
Cleaning, organizing or other productive activity performed: 0

Open Letter To the Buyer For The "Women's World" Department Of My Local Department Store:

Dear Sir or Madam,

Okay, I'll admit it. I'm fat. I don't like admitting that very often, and I don't like writing about it to Buyers for my Local Department Store, but after my shopping experience yesterday I have to ask, what gives?

What's with the elastic waist Mom Pants, the denim romper dresses, the Hawaiian print blouses, the "Best Nana Ever!" sweatshirts and the boxy, shapeless Real Estate Agent jackets? Do you assume that everyone over a size 12 checks their fashion sense at the door and gives up entirely? Also, is everyone over a size 12 70 years old and colorblind?

Believe me, if I could take my business elsewhere I would -- in a heartbeat, but it seems that Banana Republic, J. Crew, Abercrombie and The Gap don't want my business since they all seem to be selling exclusively to sizes 12 and under.

All I'm asking for is some well-made alternatives to Grandma-wear. Given the non-stop media coverage about this country's obesity crisis, I can't imagine I'm alone on this one. Surely there are other -- I'll say it again -- FAT women like me who haven't given up on looking chic, professional, hip and dare I even say SEXY?

Gentle Buyer for My Local Department Store, please take a lesson from stores such as Lane Bryant and Torrid who understand that while I'm not a size two, I'm still not a candidate for Mom Pants.

Until then, my "Women's World" sized behind will have to take her business elsewhere.

So I am home again, thankfully, and back with the world's most snuggly kitty EVER. Away from the humidity and the wife beater shirts and the bleating frogs, which I have tracked down here.Those little suckers are LOUD.

Can safely say I have no desire to return to Florida anytime in the next, say 100 years or so.

So this is Florida. Phhhhht. Swear to God, Hank Hill is next door to me right now yakking away loudly in the hallway to Boomhauer. The accent is dead-on. Sounds like they are right outside my door. Everyone here seems to wear baggy wife beater shirts.

Also outside my room, right in the 'crik outside, there are dozens, if not hundreds of frogs -- how can I say this -- BLEATING outside of the hotel room. It sounds like sheep having very loud sex. Very loud, angry sheep sex. I was very freaked out my first night here and almost attacked my room service lady about the noise ("WHAT THE HELL IS THAT SOUND? ARE WE NEAR A POWER PLANT OR SOMETHING??").

My air conditioner makes this weird sound when it powers down that is exactly like a typewriter. I hallucinated that my laptop was typing me messages in the middle of the night. This. Cannot. Be. Good.

Welcome to Florida -- State Motto: The State Where People Come To Die.

Hmm. Last day at home before I head to Orlando for four days of sun, relaxation, beach time and fruity drinks. No wait. That's not right. I meant to say, four days in Orlando at the convention center with frumpy clothes and sore feet and gritted teeth and the constant reminder to myself WERE YOU NOT GOING TO GET IN SHAPE FOR THIS THE LAST TIME??? WHAT HAPPENED TO THE GREAT PROFESSIONAL CLOTHES YOU WERE GOING TO BUY TOO, HUH???

Still, a trip's a trip even if its for work and it really is nice to see people that you don't see very often. Thomas the Wonder Cat has seen the big black box come out that means Mommy Is Going On A Trip and he's already acting weird. Tiny walnut-sized brain and yet 90 percent of it seems dedicated to anxiety over being left alone. Siiiiiigh.

Phew. Spirits slightly higher than yesterday, which can't be too difficult a task. Totally ideal morning, in which I slept in, read the Sunday New York Times leftover from last weekend, got some tidying done and then spent a good four hours watching more Dawson's Creek with Stacy while eating brie and French bread with a good Merlot.

Really, does it get better than that? Well, sure. I could have spent the day lounging with my amazing, brilliant (imaginary) boyfriend discussing politics and literature, or walking through the streets of London soaking up art and tea...but a girl has to start slow and I think as long as brie, friends and Dawson is involved it's all good.

Worst. Day. Ever. Work sucked in so many different ways today. I'm exhausted emotionally and physically. Want to crawl into a hole and never come out. I feel about an inch high.

Feel myself falling asleep and its 9:04 on a Friday night. Just watched the Reagan funeral for two straight hours on C-SPAN, which seemed about right for my state of mind. Seeing Nancy start to cry and collapse over the casket -- with Ron and Patty and doughy Michael running up and hovering over her -- all while cameras clicked by the dozens in the background...Somehow I feel dirty and invasive for watching it.

I'm going to bed. Let's get the day over with as soon as possible.

So tonight I'm blond again, thanks to some home coloring action and a desire to spruce things up for summer. Felt vaguely depressed while doing it -- I realize that coloring one's hair out of a box may disastrously impact my hipster street cred. It's just not something that the cool kids do; I should be at some hip salon being dismissed by a tattooed stylist who scowls at me and charges $200 for chunky highlights.

Okay, so I'm not cool. I'm blond though, and it only cost me $8. So eighth grade inferiority complex aside, I think I come out on top with this decision.

Clearly I'm going about this dating thing all wrong. I need to just hook my ass up with a Sugar Daddy -- which apparently this dating service can provide.

Possibly the creepiest thing I've seen in a long time.

Two random items/thoughts this morning:

1.) My houseguest/oldest wisest friend Jen packed up her ENORMOUS backpack and headed back home today. Sniff. So good to see her again and have more than just a rushed dinner together over the holidays. The importance of just hanging out and being with friends cannot be overemphasized. I forget that too often -- that it doesn't have to be some complicated elaborate swirl of activities...its just the quiet chill time that is often the best.

2.) Dahlings -- who among us doesn't want to be toting around their goodies in a Hermes Birkin bag? And yet who among us has a spare $8,000 laying around? Are you kidding? For a BAG? Check out this great site that offers adorable knockoffs for a mere $50. I feel its my civic duty to offer this resource to the Birkin-impaired.

Went and saw Super Size Me last night. What a terrific movie -- terrifying and hilarious at the same time. True to everything I've heard about it, it does indeed make you never want to eat fast food again. Ever.

You can check out Morgan Spurlock's blog here and the Website to the movie here if you're not able to scamper out immeadiately to the theatre.

Allow me to sum up the weekend in 3-word phrases:

PT Cruiser convertible.
Floating boat sushi.
Best Sheraton EVER.
Fabulous Skoah massages.
Lush shower gel.
Hon's Wonton soup.
Dill pickle chips.

Need I say more?

YAHOOO -- Onward this afternoon to the fantastic metropolis of Vancouver. Cannot wait to be walking around with the fashionistas on Robson and sitting down to a floating sushi dinner served on tiny boats.

Looking forward too to the thrill of driving there -- it's the simple things for a girl like me...a rental car in my command, floating dinners, goodies from Lush, you know, the basics.

Still have today to get through first, but soon enough it will all be good...counting down...

As trite as the phrase is, sometimes there really are things that restore your faith in humanity.

Thanks and good karmic vibes go out to the kind stranger who found a certain item of mine on the street and mailed it back to its proper owner.

It's National Spelling Bee time. In proof that I am indeed a enormogeek, I felt a tiny secret thrill when I saw that the kiddies were starting to assemble in our nation's capital for the 77th Annual Spelling Bee.

You can look up who is representing your state here and cheer them on. Go, Andrew Lokomaikaikeakua Kaleohano from Wenatchee, Washington, Go with your bad-ass spelling self!

Ahhhh, memories of sitting in my elementary school classroom practicing words with my friends Jenny and Virginia and Nathan and Leon, visions of spelling stardom welling up in my eyes. Send good vibes to these kids. Vibes that include lots of complicated, Latin-rooted origins that can be used in sentences.

The Internet never fails to amaze me. Today I was looking for some amusing sites about Dawson's Creek to help me on my newfound obsession and lo and behold --- here are a few gems to share with my public:

You can actually make a custom mix CD with the songs that are featured on Dawson's Creek here, in the event you can't possibly ever get enough of that Paula Cole song.

In addition to the bios of the stars, crew, etc. (which seems easy enough to find), you can find the HOME PAGES OF THE CHARACTERS, including Dawson's home page, Joey's home page, and Pacey's home page.

There is also a (rather extensive) personality test (it's under "Fun Things") to find how which character from Dawson's Creek you most resemble. I, not surprisingly, am Joey.