web-goddess

This is one of the coolest things I’ve seen in a while: The Woman’s Day Outer Space Station. In 1978 the magazine published these instructions for building your own Star Wars-esque sci-fi playset. The pictures with the Kenner action figures are especially neat.

“Did Rumsfeld order the Code Red? You’re goddamn right he did.” That’s despicable. We’re supposed to be the good guys. We’re supposed to be the example for everybody else. Good guys don’t approve the torture and humiliate prisoners. Rumsfeld is not a good guy.

Wow. The Snook and I were channel-surfing tonight and came upon the end of Andrew Denton’s Enough Rope. He introduced the last guest as an Iraqi that had maintained on “online diary” throughout the invasion. We were both like, “No. Way.” But yes, Salam Pax himself is apparently in Sydney for a writer’s conference and popped in for an interview. He was chubby and well-spoken, and I was surprised to hear he’s gay. It was a really good interview in which he expressed dismay at the way things have happened but also hope for the future. Denton asked him flat out if he thought the Coalition should pull out, and the answer was a definitive “No.” Sadly, he also spoke optimistically about the governing council and his wishes for peace. A disclaimer before the show revealed that it had been taped before today’s tragic assassination. He’ll be participating in an online chat tomorrow though so hopefully we’ll get to hear his reaction.

Note: Denton seemed to be going out of his way to avoid saying the word “weblog”, which amused me. He kept saying “online website” and “diary”, despite the fact that the guy is known as the “Baghdad Blogger”. He must’ve thought the word was silly. (It kinda is.) Pax worked it in a couple times though.

Curvy women have more faithful partners. At last an advantage for the big girls!

Gay marriages go ahead in Massachusetts. I wish I’d known last July when we visited Boston that the State House we toured (complete with Sacred Cod) would be the scene of such momentous civil rights debate. Congratulations to all the loving couples finally getting legal recognition for their union, and to the Massachusetts Supreme Court for having the courage to make such a stand.

I’ve been thinking about cohabitation, and how my sister is thinking about moving in with her fiancé before they get married. I remember that she once told me that the real test of a relationship is being able to admit you poo. If you can discuss your bowels with a person, you know they’re a keeper. (That’s her theory, anyway.) Well, I think I’ve discovered another test: the application of panty hose. Guys see girls in stockings and think only of the sexy end result. They have no idea what kinds of calisthenics are necessary for the average woman to squeeze her thighs into those torture devices. Not only are they extremely slippery, they’re also fragile and expensive so you’re constantly worrying that you’re going to tear the damn things. All mystery is removed. If a guy can watch you spend ten minutes struggling with an undergarment and still tell you you look great afterwards (as the Snook did with me), you might as well get married.

Any other tests you can think of? I know for a lot of girls it’s letting the guy see them without any make-up (not a problem in my case). Informing a guy of your menstrual cycle can also be a pretty big step. In junior high I couldn’t even eat in front of a boy that I liked. (Again, not an issue nowadays.) What have been your big relationship milestones?

Got a baby? Trixie Tracker is now available from the folks that brought you The Trixie Update. I wonder if I could use it for my cat…

Thanks to everyone who supported me and donated this year. The hunger itself was pretty manageable, but I didn’t expect the massive headache that went along with it. My various food addictions are stronger than I thought! I made the mistake of having a big night out with my co-workers Friday night and then I stayed up way too late watching the royal wedding. Hangovers are hard to dispel without a good greasy fry-up (especially when your better half is eating one in front of you). Saturday night was the worst. Sunday morning I felt pretty good, actually, but by the time 3:00 rolled around I was literally drooling. We headed to Glebe and ended up at Cafe Otto, where my plan to eat spaghetti faded in the face of their massive hamburgers (complete with beetroot, bacon, and a fried egg). It was positively orgasmic. Anyway, the Snook helped me make a little film to document the whole Famine experience. I don’t know if it’s just lingering starvation euphoria but I think it’s the funniest thing ever. Enjoy!

PS – What’s up with me and the ‘thumbs-up’? I do it in every shot! I really had no idea. Do I do that all the time? It makes me look like an idiot!

Harry is hot.