I'm scared. Hold me Alito.

Hmm.. So there's another head on the choppping block. I mean, nominee in the house. Judge Samual Alito Jr. (already being referred to as 'Scalito'.. gosh those Democrats are witty..) and his pretty little family accepted the nomination this morning.

Bush is getting some oppositiong from the Democrats on this one (now Ginsburg is the only women, there are no Hispanic members, it looks more like a whites only golf game than an accurate representation of the nation..) but hey, at least Bush is used to getting it from the Dems. It was like a parallel universe last month when the Republicans started eating their young.

So I suppose this is the "business as usual" attitude we're supposed to run with. Yeah, so one of our top aides has been indicted for sinking ships with his loose lips, but today.. today we've got a treat for you. A new nominee! Though that wiley Paula Zahn did point out that at this point in past administrations double nominations and double failures have been the de facto result.

Ooo.. poor Bush. Cheney will hold his hand under the table.

Days Away

I've been in another world since Friday. Bryan arrived Friday afternoon, and I can't believe that he's already gone. I'm sure that weekend was the shortest weekend I've ever lived in my life.

It was so nice to be part of a couple again, part of 'us' again. So nice to have somebody to wake up to, somebody to have breakfast with and laugh with and watch the news with.. We didn't do much of anything except eat and sleep, but it was perfect.

We went out Sunday night to Culina with a group of friends, ate and laughed and drank and got the biggest bill ever! *laughing* It was a wonderful night, everyone had a good time I'm sure. Thank you to everyone who came, I can always count on you to be there when it's important.

Hopefully I'll be out to Washington around the end of November for American Thanksgiving - it seems like so far away. My house feels empty without Bryan already.

Oh Delhi

Bombings in Delhi killed 59 people. Family and friends were not among them, though my sister was at Sarojini a few hours before. When will this be enough? And on a lighter note.. now where will we shop? We laugh to keep from crying, or something like that.

Emily Haines is a Very Talented Keyboardist

I couldn't have said it better.

Will Scooter Take the Cake?

In a come from behind move that everyone pretends they saw coming, it looks like "Special" Prosecuter (and possible next Supreme Court Nominee) Patrick Fitzgerald will be issuing an indictment against Scooter Libby. (Another possible Supreme Court Nominee.) Carl Rove may be feeling a little left out right now, seeing as how he's been hogging all that attention lately. But he may be banking on that Supreme Court Nomination if he loses his job as Senior Advisor - so maybe being out of the spotlight isn't such a bad thing. Maybe he's having tea with Miers.

My bet? Fitzgerald gets an extention to further investigate Carl Rove, and Scooter Libby is indicted based of the fact his real name is Louis and he goes by Scooter. Oh, and Cheney rides off into the sunset with Harriet Miers.

Poor Little Snowcone Miers

This would have been so much more exciting had it happened tomorrow. And so much more effective.

Mr. Bush has agreed to withdraw his nomination of Harriet Miers to the Supreme Court ("though reluctantly") in a "quit while we're ahead-ish" move. There was no way she was going to get through a confirmation hearing and garner enough votes to be confirmed by the senate - poor lady. Hopefully she'll go back to not being a real judge and just remember this as that dark period "when I was nominated for the Supreme Court". Bryan suggests maybe the Whitehouse gardener should now be nominated - would it be un-PC to state at least he'd probably by bilingual?

As mentioned, it would have been more Barnum and Bush style to have this happen tomorrow, in conjunction with the will they/ won't they All Indictment All the Time Friday. But maybe it would have been too much. Who knows. Maybe we could have had Judith Miller, Dick Cheney and Harriet Miers all singing the prison barbershop blues together by accident. Or would that actually be an accident?

Oh Harriet. Run away home. And I never even actually heard you speak.

Mugshot Smugshot

Hell, it's just an indictment. All the cool people want them. Carl, Scooter, Dick.. Don't you feel left out? Well.. you won't for long.

At least, that seems to be the general consensus from those waiting on the courthouse steps. (Literally). The grand jury convened to examine the Valerie Plame/Judith Miller pudding fight is coming up on its best before date - this Friday. So we're all waiting with bated breath (sort of) to see exactly who's up next on the spin doctors lazy suzanne, to smile in mugshots like a dentist. Either that, or investigators ask for another 6 months to investigate and we keep getting that gallant but mislead "continuing investigation" answer from Mr. McClellan in front of the blue sheets. Kind of a killjoy, Scott.

Marginally, it's detracting from the fact that poor Harriet doesn't have a snowcone's chance in hell of getting through any kind of confirmation hearing, all things considered: she can't even fill out 12 questions with enough aplomb to satisfy the current judges. Is this the way it was supposed to happen? Bush suggests somebody he knows isn't going to cut it, and, oh well, might as well go for his secret second choice, and everyone agrees to get it out of the way?

Oooo. Maybe the girl with the conspiracy theories in my poli-sci class is rubbing off. Or is she?

Saturday Snaps

Some pictures from Saturday, hanging out with Ian.
Yes, we're live and in color (sorta).

And God Blessed Goodwill

My new lamp! It's not a great picture, but the base is this 1940's depression ceramic, the most fabulous greenish blue (sometimes called aqua) that I just love. It was among the other fantastic lamps (I'm joking, there were a number of brown velvet ones with deer on them) that were on display at my new favorite shop. I'll post a picture of my smashing new 17$ chair later. The lampshade totally negates my junk finding street cred -I bought it at Urban Outfitters. Boo.. Hiss.. Yay for my new lamp!

Political Light Show

After getting some feedback on an essay from my philosophy teacher, I headed to Poli Sci just a little late. Late enough to attempt to sneak in, and as I'm quietly closing the door, my backpack turns off all of the lights. Only me, I swear.

It's been a little...tense... in that class, as of late. The two girls in front of me (who have already stated to the class that they are immigrants, first last and always, then Canadian, if that makes any sense) have banded together to form this like, strange anti-Canadian, anti-American, conspiracy theory filled view that kinda makes all of us nervous. Including my proff., who keeps looking at her for consent every time he talks about the Middle East. But she's kinda crazy, and keeps huffing and puffing and rolling her eyes at anything anyone has to say.

I want to kick the back of her chair. Badly. And tell her to shave her pits. Badly. Am I a bad person? Next time she talks I'm just going to start ululating over her. Yup.

After the Race

Here are a couple more pictures from Washington that Bryan just sent - This is post race at this poor little Irish bar called Murphy's that all these raucuous army athletes descended upon. It was a heck of a lot of fun.

Bryan, Heidi, Guy and I.

Smile!

Looking WAY to cheery for drinking ice tea with no sugar.
Mike, Me, and Guy.

Now Playing..

I think this sounds pretty good - I'm not so up on the McCarthy-ism and the Red Witch Hunt, but I'm always up for new black and white films.

What's My Power Animal?

Went out to see "Thumbsucker" with Ian tonight. Really good. A little strange, kinda along the lines of "Napoleon Dynamite" - but a little more sad. Went for pitas after. A good night. Go see it, even though "Thumbsucker" kinda sounds a little... dirty. Yeeps.

So Sue Me.

Ok, so there really isn't any other place in the world where as far as I know, I have your undivided attention for my various rants, ravings and all round hysterical musings. Right. I'm not so morally divided that I won't continue to post just because I said I wouldn't - doing things that I thought I wouldn't is my specialty. (Cooking, cleaning, wearing salmon.) But there's just so much to talk about - God hating the Florida Keys and New Orleans and sending another hurricane, cops hating a 64 year old man and battering him like a hurricane, Valerie Plame vs. Carl Rove vs. Judith Miller in the greatest back yard barbeque cream corn wrestling fight in history, a silly man named Scooter Libby (really - doesn't it sound like a napkin brand? Or a type of pickles?), the Sunnis and the Shiites hitting the fan in the Middle East, earthquakes and armageddon - really, if the world is ending, I want to put my brand of spin on it. So here is comes. Poshlust 2.0 - live and uncensored. It'll be better than Bill O'Reilly and Andrea Mackris in the Carribbean.

A Bird..A Plane.. A Metaphor?

My Nifty New Buttons.

Fucking Adieu.

Is life actually like this? That everything is wonderful, then everything falls down around your ears, then you get really busy and want to become a hermit? That's where I am right now. Is it cyclical?

Midterms start tomorrow, end by next midweek. The International Film Festival is on, Feist is on Friday (and ahem.. we're on the guestlist) and then it's Thanksgiving? I'm trying to figure out how/when to get home for Christmas, I only have yogurt, butter, pumpkin pie and beer in my fridge (I keep forgetting to take chicken out, so as a result I have like, 10 tonnes of chicken in my freezer and never eat any protein -I'm a vegetarian by accidental brain malfunction).

This blog has turned into something I never wanted it to be - this horribly mundane collection of day to day things. Enough people read it that I'm forever afraid to say something honest lest I hurt one of them; I can never talk about my personal life for fear of a) laughter b)hurting somebody.. It's a joke. At least my personal and relationship problems are infinately more interesting than my negligable grocery shopping habits. Or I guess, I like to think so.

For the first time in a long time, I'm sick of people and their never ending litany of problems with me. I'm actually ready to become an acedmic hermit and never talk to anyone but Law and Order when they're not taking my hints. I'm so frustrated and tired, I'm probably going to get my period because I messed up and took my birth control in the wrong order and as a result will get my period twice (2 times) in a month. I've got zits from stress, I've effectively lost 2lbs from stress since returning from Washington, and my fridge, no matter how many tears I shed in it from the ammonia, still smells like rotting broccoli. I'm ready to fucking scream.

As a result, Poshlust Inc. is indefinately closed for business; and will reopen when a) there's a political coup b) I get thin and beautiful and tall and brunnett c) midterms are over or d) when I open a new, and hopefully more interesting blog somewhere far, far away.

The Pie Was Better.

Went and saw the new Cronenburg film "A History of Violence". I swear to god, I thought that that it might be a comedy at some points. It was.. awful. Everywhere I've looked it gets these glowing five star reviews, but everyone was hysterical in our theatre. It was incredibly graphic in terms of violence (which I usually don't mind, but it was just dumb), and they had some sex in there that I've never actually seen carried out on screen. (Seriously.. lots of crotch shots.) Overall - one of the worst movies that I have ever seen in my life. At least I was with Laura and Alejandro, and we brought a pumpkin pie. Anything is better with an illegal pumpkin pie.

Bustin' a Pose

Bryan and I at the D.C. International Dance festival in Dupont circle. Those Senegalese can really shake it.

The Guys

No, actually. Bryan and his best friend Guy at the Army Ten Miler on Sunday.
(Which actually turned out to be 11.3 miles due to a suspicious package and subsequent rerouting. Whoops.)

*click*

A very-secret-no-flash-quick-pic-blurry-photo of Andy Warhol's Andy Warhol. ;-)