hypocrite

Despite my whining to the contrary, I voted on Tuesday like a good American (or bad American, depending on your interpretation). I'm kinda glad I did, too, because there was some really lame anti-abortion proposition on the ballot and it almost passed. Good thing almost doesn't count. The only thing I'm pretty vehement about when it comes to politics is the whole pro-choice thing. In a past life, I was probably burning bras.

I voted. Yay. I walked 14 blocks to get there, and then decided to walk halfway back across town to go to my favorite Chinese place to grab a fat bowl of chicken wonton soup. The place was packed, which made me happy, and if the tranquil movie score music and killer food for low, low prices weren't enough, they now employ a bevy of beautiful young Asian women who barely speak English, replacing the grouchy white dude who used to have the dinner shift. Thusly, the place will heretofore be known as Heaven on Earth, even though the men's room is one of the most frightening and aromatic bathrooms in town.

The rest of the week involved treating occupational stress with a rum 'n' coke a day. Three belated birthday gifts--a bootlegged copy of Sky High from my sister and Sonic Youth's Murray Street on vinyl and a gift certificate to the best Italian restaurant in town from my coworkers--were great pickmeups.

Tonight, I saw that MirrorMask was playing at the local arthouse movie theater, so I busted out of work early to go see it. It was good. The story was kinda shaky at times, and it was kinda obvious that Neil Gaiman and Dave McKean were still feeling out the whole making a movie thing, but considering that they only had $4 million to make an effects-heavy film, I think they did a good job. There were enough moments to make it worth the money, and it was cool to see Dave McKean's artwork come to life. The sphinxes and the Bobs ruled.

And of course, there was Lost, which was really intense this week. It definitely came back with a bang after an aggregious three-week lay off. I mean, seriously, three fucking weeks? And the week after next, the night before the most holy day of Thanksgiving, Lost will be pre-empted again for a fucking Kenny Chesney concert. Are you serious? I mean, I guess that's a big travel day and stuff, and since I'll probably be traveling myself, I can't complain. It's just...ugh.

Speaking of travel, though, I'll have to miss Lost this coming Wednesday, because I'm going to Seattle so that I may, among other things, interview one of my favorite bands in-person. I've been listening to Mudhoney forever, but still, I have no idea what the hell I'm going to talk to them about. I'm hoping divine inspiration takes hold of me in the next couple days. But I really want this one to go well. I'm not going to half-ass it. I even started doing research for it weeks ago. I'm that stoked. Still, I'm going to miss sitting on my couch watching Lost on Wednesday night, nursing a pint of Guinness, for all the obvious reasons.


Happy Thanksgiving, Evie.