the year that was: 2004

JANUARY: Met up with my brother in Palm Desert and communed with the naked mole rats. Came home and found that we had a new, “temporary” roommate in the form of an enormous tabby cat named Sneakers. Was introduced to my new favorite restaurant, a chic little boite called Café Fiore, home of the Milky Way martini. Became obsessed with Ron Jeremy thanks to “The Surreal Life”.

FEBRUARY: I got moved from paper claims to electronic claims, which pissed me off until I realized that I was getting a paper cut per week as opposed to a paper cut per hour. Saw two particularly depressing movies in a row (Monster and House of Sand and Fog); required medication. Sneakers became a permanent resident of the Happy Ranch after an adoption fell through and K and I realized how much we loved having a fat kitty roaming around the place like a fur-covered tank. Got hit on by an older man at the Hustler Superstore. Watched the Oscars; rejoiced over the Lord of the Rings sweep, even though my LOTR obsession had waned a bit.

MARCH: Daddy-O asked me to go see The Passion of the Christ as a favor; reluctantly complied. Had a minor meltdown over an unexpected fly in the ointment of my life. Bought myself a diamond ring. Went to Little Tokyo and got sunburned. Read eight books and saw four movies. Became obsessed with The Postal Service.

APRIL: I drove down to Corona to meet up with Daddy-O, who was there on business, and had a heart attack when people tried to get into my hotel room at 2AM. Spazzed out on my poor brother when he asked to borrow $500 and was sick at heart about it for days. Ripped one of my favorite skirts. Found out that my department was going to be closed down in about 2 years, and unless I wanted to move to Tennessee, Florida, Alabama, or Illinois, I was going to be job hunting. Got to see John Connolly again, which ruled muchly, especially when he said, “A familiar face! You’re [name very, very close to my real one], right?” The power went out in our neighborhood several times. Read ten books and saw three movies.

Man, in retrospect, aside from seeing my dad and John Connolly again, April really sucked. Screw you, April!

MAY: Got a jury duty notice. Got horribly drunk. Had a hysterical phone conversation with Spock. Became briefly obsessed with Weinerschnitzel. My brother came out for an event held by his university, and we hiked with a Nazi eighteen miles uphill in 250 degree heat to see…a rock. Was mildly placated by the mechanical horse outside Andersen’s Split Pea Soup. Read thirteen books and saw five movies. Discovered Tommy February6. Saw the worst movie of all time.

JUNE: Ran out of gas coming back from LAX. Overheard the neighbors upstairs having loud, raucous sex; was traumatized. Met up with Spock, who was in town for his niece’s graduation, and had a typically hysterical time. Bought new bedding and almost gave myself a hernia flipping the mattress. Injured my toe and was prescribed Vicodin; schemed to mildly injure other parts of my body as well. Read seven books and saw four movies.

JULY: Turned 33. K and I went to Vegas, where we stayed at the Golden Spike (aka the Shitty Stick), met up with our online friend KC, watched a man set his wang on fire, and got stinking drunk. I also got manhandled by a cop, though not in the fun way. I’m sure more happened, but I can’t remember because I lost all of my July entries (and many more) to that friggin' hacker. Eat a plate of dicks, hacker!

AUGUST: Got drunker than I have ever been in my life, left Georgia racing stripes on the side of K’s car, and woke up in the nastiest hotel room imaginable. Thanks to various people being complete and total asshats to my poor dear roommate, I was kept very busy constructing elaborate voodoo dolls; stock in straight pins went through the roof. Had my first date in over a year with a nice but somewhat annoying child psychologist. Fortunately, this was soon followed by my first date with G, and then by my second date with G. I knew he’d be a keeper when I laughed over a seagull crapping on his head at the Santa Barbara Pier and he didn’t get mad at me.

SEPTEMBER: K and I drove up to Sacramento to meet up with several online friends. Snacks were devoured, drinks were imbibed, dish was…er…dished. Not even a day after the party ended, our friend Jane gave birth to the beautiful Claudia. Went to G’s place for the first time and was awed by Mr. Trippy and the jungle room. Silent Hill 4 ate my soul. Went on a date with Otaku Boy and didn’t stop thinking about G the entire time, at which point I knew I was Officially Whipped and swore off dating anyone else. Bought a laptop. Read eight books and saw seven movies.

OCTOBER: B-kun came out for a visit, during which we had the best fucking ice cream in the history of the world, worshipped the swan shoes, destroyed the Malibu library’s bathroom, traipsed through Muir Woods, took a ride around Morro Bay, and sicced the Mormons on Ass Taco. G kicked my ass at Super Puzzle Fighter, bought me a drink served in a ceramic geisha, and just generally rocked my world. The ATM ate my card. Read ten books and saw six movies.

NOVEMBER: Despite my fervent prayers, my Kerry shirt, and the ballots of myself and just about everyone I know, Bush got four more years…dammit. G took me to Hollywood to see The Incredibles at the El Capitan Theater. Got pulled over for a rolling stop and, thanks to the power of my pro-police air freshener, drove away with a warning. Went to Santa Monica with G and rode the Ferris wheel. Hang Dog had a seizure at work, which was one of the most terrifying things I’ve ever seen, but fortunately he’s okay. Had a fun, albeit untraditional, Thanksgiving that consisted of KFC, a 40 of Smirnoff Ice, and a matinee of Sideways. Read ten books and saw five movies.

DECEMBER (and the very beginning of January): Got a nasty bladder infection. Went to the Getty with G. Had a pap smear, which hurt like the proverbial motherfucker. Went out with K and got drunk; fended off the advances of men by claiming I was on parole. K and I went to The Gig on Melrose Avenue to see a friend of hers perform. Spent Christmas weekend with G and did nothing but sleep, eat, and watch TV...bliss! He also gave me one of the best presents of my life in the form of a t-shirt that said "Evil monkey beaters shall get no yen from me, thank you very much." Read eight books and saw three movies. Cried when saying goodbye to V, one of my favorite coworkers, who moved to Florida. Spent New Year’s Eve with G and his friends, all of whom I liked immensely. Drank mass quantities of liquor and woke up on New Year’s Day with little felt socks covering every one of my teeth; vomited profusely and actually told the humming refrigerator to shut up because it was making my headache worse. Made a mushy comment to G and he said, “Aw, that’s just the roofies talking, honey.” He suggested we go to Little Tokyo on Sunday; astounded and delighted, I happily agreed. I bought $50 worth of stationery and magazines and $25 worth of junk food, including Matthew’s Best Hit TV Soda (the Japanese show featured in Lost in Translation), which had the most marvelous Peter Max-styled art on the bottle. We had lunch at a little ramen shop and then walked back to his car, hand in hand.