Grief

My foolishness occasionally knows no bounds... or perhaps it was the glass of Riesling I had before heading down to the homeowner's association meeting. Suffice it to say that I am now the Treasurer of the Allen Avenue Square South Condominium Community. The more my grief. I regretted it the moment I said I would do it.

But there were only 3 board members left and they needed five. Even with me there aren't as many as there ought to be. And they promised to make the meetings quarterly. Plus I'll be doing the accounting... it's not like I'll need a lot of training, right? And our property manager does almost all of the work, right? PLUS there are the other three people on the board. It's not like I'll be down fixing Mrs. Whitehead's sink in the middle of the day on Saturday, right?

Oh. My. God.

I got invited by a straight friend to go kick it down at Hooters but I decided to pass. I'm going to go to bed and get up and nourish my soul with some yoga.

I have been trying to find an I Heart Malfoy shirt all over the internet to no avail. Boo.

I am currently listening to Rufus Wainwright's new album Want Two. Some of the lyrics are awesome, but I have to say I really like the whole album. It took me a while to warm up to Want One, but I love Want Two. I love this song "Gay Messiah," and I don't think I ever understood it before, but on this album it makes so much sense. It's like a warning to Rick Santorum and Pat Robertson: Better pray for your sins / 'Cause the gay messiah's coming. And there is this wonderful grief-stricken song called "This Love Affair": Can't say that I'm cruising / Not that I don't like cruising / It's just that I'm bruising / From you. It's really quite lovely.