I'm cranky. I've been living out of tightly packed suitcases for a week, my mail started forwarding last Friday so my bills are all over the place, both my netflix got lost, and UPS has been apparently been trying to deliver a signature-required pkg to my house all week (if that's from you, please call me). I have to spend another weekend night trapped inside re-packing all these clothes and kitchen supplies I had the nerve to use all week, and I'm having way too good a hair day to spend it inside. But, I'm finally moving tomorrow. I'm not even nervous anymore. If the toilets don't work, well fuck it, I'll just hold it until Wonderland opens. That reminds me...I'm out of Jack.
Well, anyway. Many, many years ago, when I worked in politics, and before this conversation was in any way relevant, I had a running bet with my friends about who would be come president first: a black man or a woman. I better dig through my boxes for my address book, because it looks like a few of those folks are getting a little closer to paying up soon.