We Were Really Hummin'

[I'm awake at this ugly cow-milking hour for two reasons. First, I consumed 3/4 of a bottle of old dependable Clos du Bois Shiraz last night while having a mini-San Francisco movie marathon in my room. I chose Vertigo because, having watched Auntie Mame in the morning, I thought I'd stick with the late 1950s. However, the city's fabulous starring role in the Hitchcock classic made me want to watch something else S.F., so I popped in Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home. Throw in, say, Mulholland Drive and you pretty much have the range of my movie taste as expressed by my DVD collection.]

[Where was I? Oh, yeah: up before dawn. I've been noticing lately that consuming anything more than two alcoholic beverages of an evening results invariably in my waking up at about 3:00 in the morning. This has never been an issue in my fairly bibulous experience, so I thought at first that it must be that I'm still getting used to the comparative quiet of my new neighborhood, or that I'm just not yet used to Maison le Trou. However, I slept thru the night on Friday, when (uncharacteristically) I abstained, save for one overpriced vodka-cran Chris bought me at a drag-queen mega-event (don't ask) at the DeDeYoung Museum*.]

[MyGregory suggests that it's because that 3AM is when I get sober, and so wake up. I'm sure he's right.]

[Also waking me from the sleep to which there is no returning was a pretty bizarre dream involving Ann Coulter (wearing an uncharacteristic pink-striped Oxford-cloth shirt, pearls, and white slacks - real conservative attire for a change), my mother (I don't remember her outfit) and a chat in my parents' living room during which I made Ann laugh and seem quite civilized. I wish I could distill for you how the subject of Pat Benatar entered into the discussion. I didn't wake screaming from the dream as you might expect, but neither could I return with confidence to Morpheus's treacherous arms.]

[Instead, I brewed a pot of strong coffee (making my usual mess - anyone know where I can pick up some tea towels that won't clash with an Edward-Gorey/Rape-of-Danae-themed kitchen where paper towels are banned because using even one roll will cause the climate to collapse?), and hopped on the web. I know I should be doing my 100 crunches, especially after consuming a huge bowl of highly buttered popcorn (I don't need to be stoned to be a disgusting glutton), but sorry, no. I think I'm too caffeinated now to exercise.]

[Mmmmm, coffee. Buzzzzzzz...]

[*So named because the Queen of San Francisco spearheaded the museum's rebuild. But then you knew that.]

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