Sir, Is Your Crotch Squirming, or Are You Just Happy To See Me?

Y'all, this is totally why I went to law school. To defend this guy.

I am SO fascinated by this; actually, I am fascinated by anyone committing some weird crime with an animal, like the guy who was convicted of horse buggery- and apparently, after he buggered the horse, they lay down together.

But this guy! Aren't you wondering how they caught him? Wouldn't you love to be the person who said, sir, your crotch is squirming?

And - wouldn't the geckos/lizards be rather the worse for wear after traveling from Australia to Germany in someone's underwear?

How big did this pocket have to be to fit 44 geckos and lizards?

And can you imagine being the person in charge of counting the things? after retrieving them, and they would smell-

Vun Gecko! Two Geckos! Tree Geckos! ha ha ha!

And these geckos are $2,800 each? Really? That's more than all the furniture in my house is worth and probably more than all of my personal belongings. I didn't know geckos were such a lucrative business.

He "set about poaching the animals in a premeditated way which would have had an effect on the colonies." Like- what? Geckos/lizards have colonies? Is there a non-premeditated way to poach geckos and stuff them in your trousers?

He apparently may collect the things but seems to have been charged with the Australian equivalent of "Possession of Geckos with intent to distribute."

My Brain Feels Like it is Full of Angry Hornets

Well, that is what Bar Prep feels like. The further along I go, the more I realise, I don't know anything, and the more I study, the further behind I feel. And then my brain hurts, unsurprisingly.

This has made me very Stressed.

One of the ways I know I am stressed, is that I turned down - not one, but TWO booty calls last week to - go to work.

Well, it was all like an LSAT emergency! And I got the LSAT signal where I was desperately needed, and I leapt into the Test-prep mobile and dashed off to save the day!

Yes, the LSAT-Mobile. The day was saved, in case you were wondering.

Ya, that's my brand of heroism there.

O and I totally forgot about this. Well, over Christmas, I was theoretically having a friend visiting from Mexico City, this chap I met in Rio but then he decamped for cleaner pastures (see the calembour? hee!) and then one day he wanted to go to Chattanooga and y'all know who lives in Chattanooga. So I thought I would hook him up with Trey.

Ma and Dad wanted to see Ruby Falls and the Aquarium. So we all went.

Trey decided to put in an appearance roaring drunk, in a Superman costume, in the middle of their very high class downtown.

I got kicked out of every bar I've been in, he said proudly, which did not impress anyone present. I was horrified and was very concerned that he was going to get arrested but he actually didn't. He was unimaginably obnoxious. We wanted very badly to pack him off and take him home but he refused and I refused to stand out and fight with him.

Well that is rather the nail in that coffin. I don't think Trey will ever change enough to be a responsible adult or a semi responsible adult, and I can't deal with it anymore so there. I vaguely had hopes occasionally- yes, despite all better judgment- that things would improve at some point- and it's not as though people are swarming up to ask for my hand, are they? And Trey had a lot of good qualities.

I just don't want to deal with all the baggage. But anyway it's not like any of the rest of us haven't acted up before while drunk. Speaking of which, two entirely sober girls nearly came to blows in bar prep today - - - and I ran outside and hid until it was over.

And things have been going along with New Friend. I like him. Wots and wots. Except yesterday we started talking about why I was still single. His theory is that my house is so badly kept that I drive men away.

Granted. I know I am not the best housekeeper in the world, but A) I have seen worse. B) I- you know something, when you walk into my house, you can immediately tell whose house it is. It is not one of these sterile Pottery-Barn furnished things. It has My Personality all over it. C) I am not- one of those midtown condo-living Beemer driving two dogs and hair gel in Piedmont park type guys. If that's what you're looking for, you're going to be disappointed anyway sooner or later. And I am not interested in dating anyone that shallow. I am not perfect, but I have many great qualities so there. And someday, I will have a bigger house I can keep cleaner, as in, I will have a house twice the size of the one I have now and actually live in the part the size of the one I have now and then have people visit in the rest of it. We will just have to cordon off the back. Also he is not All That to be Freaked out by this.

So this irked me for a while. But to an extent he is telling the truth, but also I am thinking, remember what I was thinking at the beginning of the year?

(no, we read your blog, not your mind.)

There's such a thing as compromise and then there's desperation. If I turn into a totally different person for this purpose, I'm still not goign to get what I want and then not like who I am. I'd rather be disliked for who I am than liked for who I am not. So there.

What about "Robin?"

Well, we have discussed some aspects of this. "Robin" lives in Nashville, and I do not, and that seems unlikely to change for the foreseeable future. I have to be a little realistic. I do love "Robin" but, he is getting increasingly wishy-washy about moving etc, and he has also someone he is rather fooling with.

Why did you get involved with someone out of state anyway?

Well, it has been fun, and it continues to be fun, and that might have to be good enough for a while. I would like more, but might as well enjoy what there is. I rather hoped he would move but, that was, as he points out, a little silly on my part.

And certain people we know borrowed the minivan last week and managed to both break the key - the little plastic bit that holds the key on to the ring- and the driver's side mirror, and neglected to mention the latter to me. Then said person had the audacity! The AUDACITY! to accuse me of potential negligence if I had a gun.

Which they claimed they "thought it was like that." Yah, like I would lend you an extremely slow car with a broken mirror without notifying you of this first. Anyway, they agreed to fix it without any dramatics.

And I still do not have "Moby Dick" back from the Grouchy African, who seemed drunk the last time I went by to bug him about it- - -

O and the other day Spencer came by and wanted some money.

Spencer always wants money. One week he bugged me so much (while I was taking my Executive Nap) that I finallly just let him plant the bulbs and the flowers I bought in - October-- but I was afraid he would plant them all wrong and such.

How do you plant flowers wrong?

Not deep enough, not spaced enough, but I was waiting for warmer weather- But that's not the point! The point is that Spencer this time wanted $2 for his "rash."

I did not feel like giving Spencer money that day and tell him I have no cash, I haven't been to the bank. I think this is a legitimate excuse. Spencer should know about how white people are and having to go to the bank and such to get cash. I only give Spencer money occasionally when he asks because A) hello! I have no money and B) I don't want to be the Bank of Cruella with all withdrawals, no deposits. Like Spencer's personal ATM.

Spencer is probably more clever than this though and probably realises that if I didn't actually pull out my wallet to look in it, I probably have money and don't want to give it to him. He tries to bolster the evidence by showing me his rash.

I did not at all want to see his rash. This did not stop him from showing it to me. But I resisted the viewing of the rash and remained unconvinced.

O how unfortunate, I told him. Spencer does seem to be subject to a variety of "rashes" or so he claims in order to get money.

People do not often do this, but I am thinking the appropriate reaction to someone showing you their rash would be pity, yes? Just checking. It would be inappropriate, for example, to admire it and say, "What a simply MARVELOUS rash!"

So I am all stressed, what with LSAT emergencies, and car stupidity, and having to come up with appropriate comments on Spencer's rashes.

And you really aren't doing anything except for going to class.

SHHHH! no one has to know that.

Also, I just want to say this. I think it is really, really revolting when people are all perky early in the morning, that is to say anytime before 11. I do not think anyone should be able to hold a coherent conversation before then, and if you are all perky early in the morning, you should keep it to yourself as -good manners for those of us who have trouble getting coffee not in our noses.

Cruella Is Trapped In Bar Prep Land

So Yah, and I am all trapped in Bar Prep Land, and I wish I had some fun things to tell you about but I have forgotten most of them.

Oh, oh, Well I went to spend Christmas with "Robin" in Nashville.

"What do you want for Christmas?" asked "Robin."

"A Fur coat," I say. I begin to imagine how much better life would be if "Robin" gave me a Fur Coat. A lot, I conclude. A LOT. I would go around thrusting it in people's faces and say, see, look what "Robin" gave me! I TOLD you I was good at "that!" And I would name it after him and remember him forever.

This fails to convince "Robin."

Well, If I'm going to buy you a fur coat, you have to buy me a diamond ring, he says. Apparently he is trying to think of something equally expensive and luxurious.

But you don't wear jewelry, I point out, you have frequently discoursed on not liking jewelry. I gave you a silver crucifix and you don't wear that!

That's because I don't want it to get lost, he says.

I can give this some credence, but not much. He had lost The Charlie Brown Christmas special by sticking it in the back of a dresser under some socks.

"I don't think men should wear fur," he then says.

I have a long argument against this which is too graphic even for me to discuss here.

O and we went to see the Nutcracker and we went to see Christmas lights. Robin lost 6 lbs, which I think is nice for him but I liked him anyway. He does look better, you can tell. But I am rather taken by his inner beauty. Also his outer beauty was not off putting so there.

Then we went to see the "Nutcracker" which was beautiful, and "Robin" announced his intent to give $1,000 to the Nashville Ballet. "O is that right," I say, "well then you can certainly buy me a fur coat."

"But that is doing good, to give money to the ballet," says "Robin."

"But it is doing MORE good, to buy me a fur coat," I say, "and also I would be ETERNALLY grateful. I would remember this FOREVER. Unlike the ballet people, who would be only moderately grateful and to them it's just another check."

This argument fails to convince "Robin." He is also somewhat off put when I tell him that I hope when I move, I can find a funeral home that is going out of business and buy all their furniture.

"I think you are going to have to get used to being single for a long time." he says.

"I LIKE that style of furniture, the conservative cherry-wood type things, and YOU have pieces like that." I point out.

"But they weren't around dead people," he observes.

I am not squicked out by dead things. I prefer used furniture, they are like, pre-antiques.

O and then Gerardo came to visit from Mexico and promptly decamped.

Anyhow and then I had a birthday and MTM and Rebecca got in a fight, and almost came to blows, which I felt was unnecessary.

Cruella, what else is going on? I heard you did something really bizarre for a "date."

Um. Yes. I actually did, this was somewhat inadvertent, but. What happened was he wanted to come over and I was in the process of making and canning soup, meaning chopping vegetables by the bucket and boiling turkey necks (that's Dee's fault for teaching me that turkey necks are edible and not just props for John Waters films) and such and then I enlisted his help in the chopping of the vegetables. . .

So for y'all's first encounter, you made him chop vegetables? Like a kitchen slave? That's weird.

Yes. I am rather aware of this. But it seems to have worked.

Also, isn't he considerably (somewhat) older than you are?

Yes, well. I think he's nice.

Nice meaning - - -

Well, in at least two ways is he nice: for one thing, instead of coming over and complaining about how awful my house looks, he actually cleaned the kitchen and the dining room, and then in the other way.

Other way meaning?

Red Bull Can. Literally.

O.

But I am a little concerned, because the other day I asked him what he was doing and he said he had just finished watching a good movie.

This rang alarm bells for me. My concept of what would be a "good" movie diverges wildly and widely from what most people think is a "good" movie.

"What movie?" I asked.

"Anaconda," he said, "it was a really good movie."

"But it's about a foam rubber snake that eats people!" I say.

"I really liked the plot!" he said.

"The plot is - - - wait, there's a foam rubber snake. And it eats people."

"Yes," he says.

I am very alarmed. "!" I am thinking, because suppose this chap is, well, Trey had many good qualities, but you know what I mean. And this chap is not as cute as Trey was when he was thinking hard. So I am not sure.

But who cares. This could be one of those MTM moments, where I need to stop being picky and weird. He's here, he's queer, he cleaned my kitchen, etc., and I'm complaining? Exactly.

Also, plenty of people have odd couple relationships without being gross or creepy like Pam and her husband who was old enough to have come over on the Mayflower. I get so disgusted when I see two gay guys and they are all a happy couple and high-powered and successful, and they have brunch mimosas with their adopted/surrogate babies and are all clean cut and such with their polo by Ralph Lauren duds, I just want to spit.