{ metropolis devoured }
a tribute to my san francisco

3/4 oz scotch whiskey
3/4 oz local politics
1/4 oz public policy
1/4 oz disaster preparedness
1/2 oz alamo square

Shake over neighborhood dives & venues, strain into a chilled cocktail dress, garnish with a sprig of gov 2.0, and serve.

Thursday, July 31, 2008

Librarian refuses to remove children's book on gay marriage in CO...

A Colorado parent unprepared to deal with the modern realities of gay marriage and the availability of information to their child seeks solace in the conservative comfort of a local librarian, but instead of accomplishing their goal of getting an "inappropriate" children's book on the topic pulled from the shelves, gets their ass handed to them by a hip old librarian/writer/blogger who respectfully reminds the parent that gay couples pay taxes too. Hilarious and admirable. It wouldn't be so bad for schools to introduce similar material that normalizes same-sex marriage to young kids... after all, this ain't religion.

That was the longest and possibly run-on sentence ever.

Sunday, July 27, 2008

That's it. I'm hungry.

It's been more than a half a week since my oral surgery and I still can't eat solid food. I was prepared for the pain, I was prepared for the swelling, I was prepared for eventually dealing with stitches coming out... but no one told me I wouldn't be able to eat solid food by the end of the weekend. And frankly, I'm surprised. I bounce back fast my injuries.

Two years ago on my first day in Caracas, Venezuela, I slit my left hand open between my pinkie and ring fingers on a broken tequila glass (which, truth be told, I probably broke and kept dancing with). At 5am I was stitched up with thick black wire, wrapped up in gauze, and (still drunk) ushered out of the emergency room by my Venezuelan girlfriend. I think we went to eat arepas afterwards instead of going home. Judging by the amount of time we spent partying during my visit, I don't remember my hand injury derailing any fun.

Two days ago I managed a carnitas taco. Yesterday, a piece of juicy quesadilla and a quarter of a burrito. Then I accepted my bruised jaw for what it was, stopped forcing my teeth to touch, and returned to my diet of canned french onion soup with soggy croutons. Joy of all joys.

I'm so hungry. Surrounded by marinated steaks, magnificently crispy toast, and freshly baked cupcakes, I've had about enough. Teeth, give me back my life!

Thursday, July 24, 2008

Reporting live, from squirreltown...

So I've been on a bit of a blogging hiatus while a) mourning the move my best friend from college is about to make for grad school (two hours away, people... versus the three blocks we've been living from each other the past 4 years!) and b) recovering from a really nasty wisdom tooth extraction. Adults aren't meant for this. Where is my goddamn vicadin? I really can't wait to eat solid food again, and the smell of warm corn tortillas wafting in from the kitchen is making me near-livid. I would probably sell my soul for the ability to eat a grilled cheese sandwich right now, and for bacon? Your soul.

My face is lopsidedly swollen since two of the three offending teeth went without a fight, leaving their lone lower right brother to render me weak as a kitten with boatloads of pain. Now I am confined to a diet of liquids, and not even the fun kind of liquids, which makes me a very cranky individual.

Somebody get me a scotch and some bacon, quick, and I'll fake it till I make it.


Thursday, July 17, 2008

Looking for backpack-sized cocktail shakers...

Last night over cocktails at NOPA, where we observed a romantic May-December couple who really needed to get a room, one of my oldest girlfriends and I decided that in October, us two city girls will abandon our oversized leather bags and petite blazers and hit the Grand Canyon for a 5-6 day trek.

Will keep y'all posted.

Monday, July 14, 2008

"So I decided to... find out what exactly had transpired in his pants."

This article deserves to be shared widely not only for its sheer brilliance on the topic of ethnicly and culturally relevant medical/mental conditions, but also for its use of the phrase "so I decided to try and find out what exactly had transpired in his pants" in all seriousness. Please proceed to Harpers: "A mind dismembered: In search of the magical penis thieves" by Frank Bures. Yes, penis thieves. And yes, seriously, read it - it's long but entirely worth it.

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