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One Thing I Learned Today
Thursday
 
Schwingin'
Liam and I are learning to swing dance. Last night was our first class. It's very enjoyable, although sometimes they go at such a slow pace you wonder how *any* of the participants could possibly still not have it down. They repeat the "rock-step, tri-ple-step, tri-ple-step" mantra so many times I heard it in my sleep. Then the instructors tell us to try it on our own and you realize that half the people are still rocking back and forth stiffly, looking disturbingly like Steve Martin in "The Jerk" when he's trying to dance like his adopted black family.

And of course, as with every dance class, they make you change partners. All "followers" had to move to the right in our big learning circle. On my right was a string of slightly creepy older men with clammy hands. I couldn't help but wonder about their motives for being in the class. Of course, to Liam's left stood all of the cute 20-something girls in the room. I really lucked out there.

Wednesday
 
BLAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
BLAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

That's what I think of the Edinburgh job scene.

Anyone else notice the Governator's sudden turnaround in his stance on gay marriage?! Can't say I wasn't happy about his (suspicious, aptly-timed) change of heart, as I'm sure the rest of the 'We're here, we're queer, rah rah rah' crowd must be...but only because it's a kick in the balls for Dubya and his fucking 'constitutional amendment' high horse. Even that is only a kick in the balls because Arnie not ONLY has political naivety, but also jurisdiction of one of the most powerful voting states, as well as the media eye. Oh well, one more state. I can't believe he got elected there in the first place. Who ever heard of a homophobic ex-bodybuilder trying to run a state that contains San Francisco?? Check out the campaign for gay marriage rights here. And sign the Million for Marriage petition, if you are so inclined.
 
Peter Jackson is nothing like Alfred Hitchcock...
...says me. For as we all know, boys and girls, old Hitch never got a single Oscar. So the resemblance stops somewhere around the belly and does not extend to the "little man".

Of course, no-one has ever really compared Peter Jackson to Alfred Hitchcock apart from me, a couple of weeks ago in a caption on a picture on this weblog, but I still thought it worth pointing out.
 
Raging Grannies
Monica, a Raging Granny who is not Meg's gran. Protest groups don't come much cooler than this. The Raging Grannies of Seattle must have taken some inspiration from Jenny Joseph's poem Warning!. Their logo is even a purple-clad old lady. I like their style.

Their website has a contact for them here in Rochester. If I fitted the criteria I'd join up, but when you consider that I'd have to have a sex change, learn to sing, have a child to supply me with grandchildren and wait thirty years in the meantime it looks as if I wouldn't be their ideal recruit. Besides, purple just doesn't suit my complexion.

Of course, the perfect candidate would be Meg's gran, Juanita. She's a kick-ass lady, she can sing up a storm, and I bet she looks cracking in purple. Meg, what do you say?