I hope by now you've all read about the debacle that my realtor has been (detailed here). I mean, I thought we did a really good job with the pictures, and if I do say so myself, the water drip was a stroke of genius. But I still think she's getting the best of us. I was sitting in work on Wednesday when one of my colleagues showed me a realty web page he ran across, saying "Isn't this your apartment?" It was indeed my apartment, though at first the banner across the top that said "Open House Sunday 1 - 3" confused me for a bit, since I certainly knew nothing about that. She actually ended up calling and telling us (officially) on Saturday afternoon, 23 hours before the open house. Had another entertaining conversation with her, in which she said something like "I don't appreciate being admonished on the way I do my job." I always kind of figured that was all part of being admonished.

Went with Allison to a porno salon the other day, led by the ineffable Porno Jim. Jim is an incredibly intelligent and silver-tongued gentleman who is out to lead a revolution in the porn industry. I honestly I don't believe I've ever met anyone who could talk so passionately and convincingly about their area of interest as I heard Jim that night. The night involved about a dozen or so people at Jim's place (which he shares with his charming girlfriend Dicey (sp?)), to watch some porn clips and listen to Jim give his expert opinion on why he thought some were better than others. It was kind of put together like a presentation, created with PornoPoint. Afterwards, there was a discussion session with the group, led by Jim. I can't say that it led me to look at porn in a different way, but it definitely led me to look at porn. And in the end, isn't that what's important?

Went bowling at Bowlmore Lanes last night. It was horrible. The company was wonderful (me with half a dozen pretty girls at a bowling alley. Doesn't get much better than that as far as I'm concerned. Except possibly this), but I was scarcely able to enjoy it bowling, as I was, like a chump. I recognize that it's a poor workman who blames his tools, but it was totally the fault of the lane. And the lane return put a huge gouge in my ball. And I was so flustered as I was leaving that I ended up wearing my bowling shoes out, and I don't even know what that's going to have done to their ability to slide on the lanes.

On the upside, afterwards I was brought to a bar not far from my place that was kind of awesome. I >heart< Franciskaner on tap.

What else. . . Oh. It looks like I'm going to be taking part in Galapagos' Amateur Burlesque Competition. It's the first Monday in May. Come, and cheer me on. I'll be the hairy chick carrying a parasol.