I will not deny that I am obsessed with AK-Prog-Blogs and read no fewer than three, along with the ADN and Juneau Empire RSS feeds. I have been guilty of posting really political stuff on blogs and comics, facebook and myspace, Tumblr and Twitter. Oh dear. But this is and will remain a personal and frivolous blog, no matter how happy or sad the political landscape may be.
That being said, I am really happy that, thanks to a facebook update from a friend on the hill, I am confident in saying that Grussendorf will NOT be replacing Senator Elton. I very nearly got into a heated debate on Facebook commenting on this friend's status. Some neo-con who works for Don Young (ick!) responded to my relief that he thought Grussendorf would have been a great option... I responded that I'd refrain from debating on Dani's comments, but I have to point out that the Valley didn't vote for him when he ran for Representative and downtown most certainly wouldn't vote for him, so appointing him seems like it wouldn't actually please anyone. Good thing the Senate Dems seemed to realize this.
Now, back to silly and unimportant things, like my life:
Last night I worked. It was boring. The only saving grace was Miss B coming in, but that didn't help much since she ended up playing cribbage with Mr. Contrary the whole evening before the debates began. Sometimes I have zero tolerance for Mr. Contrary's insistance on battling with every single person, whether they agree or not. Did you know that two liberal democrats who agree on most every issue could argue about those very issues? Well, Mr. Contrary will prove to you that this is true.
I have been wearing my contacts a lot lately, but that caused me to suffer an awful red and itchy eye by the end of the night. I was lucky that Miss B could give me a ride home so I could change into my glasses and watch some of Becoming Jane. I finished it this morning instead of getting ready to face the world earlier than usual. Jane Austen probably dying a virgin is kind of sad. And while we still suffer some double standards these days, dying a 41 year old virgin would be far more appalling than pre-marital sex while in college and one's early twenties. The comments triggered by this status update ranged from the hopeful to the downright dirty, even featuring a link to a late 1800's, um, sex machine. The link has now been removed, possibly Mr. Z looking out for the fact that my mom is my facebook friend, but it was something to behold. Doesn't look all that pleasant to me, I'll admit to being thankful for modern technology.
By the way, how was that for a segue? Corrective lenses to movie to sex toys? Whoa.
Still on that last topic, Mr. Contrary was sharing his amazement at brand names for sex toys. Miss D came to the Bergmann and put up a poster for a "Slumber Party" at the Rendezvous next week. And another friend told me that her "friend" died. All this talk reminds me of that one time in college when about 8 of us sorority sisters hopped in a couple cars and drove to the big giant Adult Shop (advertised in giant yellow letters) on Mission Street in Salem. I know that there were a number of girls who did not leave empty handed. I don't think the clerk had ever been so excited by a group of customers.
Now I have to start arguing that this isn't a sexy blog. If you know me, you know that I fail hard at sexy.
I have a bad habit of making too many plans with too many people in one night. Tonight is no different because I told Miss MO and Miss B that I would hang out with them tonight, but Miss MJ just texted about a bonfire. Miss MO won't go to the bonfire, but Miss B might, but I know that I could get both of them to just hang out. Maybe I should do dinner with Miss MO and bonfire with Miss B and Miss MJ... Man, maybe I should just quit being so ridiculously popular. Ha. Ha. That was a joke.
Oh, and one more bit about politics: Ted Stevens' conviction has been overturned. Now everyone in Alaska can be happy. The democrats and liberals have Mark Begich in office and everyone else has Uncle Ted's reputation untarnished, or at the very least, polished up to a really nice sheen again.