03.01.06

My Japanese step-cousin is in town for the month. I haven't seen her in oh shit years? decades? I don't know. I am looking forward to seeing her again. Strangely enough, a few of my male acquaintances have betrayed an interest in meeting her. Gee. I wonder why.

Mater called last night. Seems that Miyume wants to go to a thrift store (but not like the Very Christian Thrift Store that I frequent--that's too raw), and she wants to get her belly button pierced.

I ran off the names of two appropriate second-hand shops in Hawthorne. And I've thought of some others, somewhat more offbeat. As far as the belly piercing, I already have someone in mind. It was nice to be able to reassure Mater that the piercer is a friend, and a professional.

Being the go-to woman for these sorts of activities makes me feel oddly proud. Or juvenile. Hell, I don't know.

A DJ friend who had a close encounter with his pet iguana (severed tendons in his foot! damn!) is emerging from his month-long hospital/multiple surgeries/recuperation hiatus. He'll be spinning at the Holocene on Sunday, March 5th. If you're around, come check it out.

Last night I got to geekin' hard. In the process I discovered an Italian singer/songwriter. How goofy do I feel for not experiencing Paolo Conte before? And how annoying to discover him through an advert by a multi-national soft drink behemoth with a distinctive, swoopy logo on a red background with an enticing, feminine shape to its glass bottling? I'm listening to the Best of Paolo Conte right now. Mmmmmmmm.

That's it. Quiet life. That's lovely. Go. Be fabulous.

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