Nyquil Dreams and Diphenhydramine Wishes

So yes, it's official, I'm sick again, and last night I had a hefty dose of Nyquil before falling asleep. I'm going to assume that the Nyquil was responsible for the crazy that followed but who really knows?

My dream started out with my being a bridesmaid for one of my Indian girlfriends who is already married. Not only was I wearing a poofy lavender satin gown, but my hair was done up in a style best described as "Epileptic Bouffant on PCP". Said horrendo hairstyle was also collapsing so I was running around trying desperately to pin it back in place when I ran into the new James Bond, Daniel Craig, sequestered in a closet watching all his own movies on DVD. This I found to be totally hilarious, so of course he became irate and then we started making out. Buh??? I don't even think the man is attractive (although yes ok, that shot of him in his swim trunks in Casino Royale is indeed tasty and delicious. From the neck down anyway.) So once I escaped his clutches I managed to catch a train (that was really a boat) with one of the girls who was in my sorority in college, some college kid, and a nice little lady who works at my company in our New Jersey office. I then hopped off the boat-train with my colleague in time to catch my best friend's sister driving around looking for my best friend. By this time my bridesmaid dress was gone and we were all running around in our underwear, which was ok because we had new dresses (this time in black satin - presumably my brain was starting to shake off the Nyquil) waiting for us. Except we still had to wear the purple veils that came with the original dresses.

I'm not sure if I should never take Nyquil again or take it every night from now on.

Curiouser and Curiouser

So, back from Boston safely and the client visit went ok. A couple of hiccups which our customer care department helped me work through relatively quickly. One completely weird thing is that I was flying back on the last flight out on Wednesday night, and the flight was pretty empty. I really thought the guy sitting on the other side of the plane was one of my friend's boyfriends, but I wasn't positive since I've only seen him a few times. So in addition to being unsure it was him, I was also pretty tired so I didn't say anything to him. I emailed my friend the next day and it turns out it WAS him. Freaky small world, yeah?

I cannot believe we are sitting here waiting for another blizzard. I want to cry but I know I have to conserve my energy to clear the driveway tomorrow.

I'm still crushing on my boy and he still seems to like me too. Unfortunately I had a dream that he turned into this guy:



Remember? Mel from the 70's sitcom "Alice"? Yeah. In my dream I had to pretend I was ok with this metamorphosis but dear Lord was I happy when I woke up. The boy is cute like a button and Mel is...not.

I suspect I might be catching another cold which would make this the craziest cold season ever for me - I rarely catch more than one cold a year. I am sucking down Airborne and Zicam hoping for the best.

I was thinking what would happen to CNN and the other 24-hr news schmoes if the Anna Nicole Smith story were proceeding at its usual surreal pace, AND there was another new break in the JonBenet Ramsey case AND Britney Spears busted out of rehab and got her labia pierced. Would Wolf Blitzer's head spontaneously combust?

Mixed Emotions

A list of emotions (in no particular order)

• Resignation: I have to fly out to Boston tomorrow to help a client with an installation. Thankfully it's a short trip and I'll be back late Wednesday night. Hopefully everything goes well. I also remembered late today that I would only need a carry-on bag and had no quart size Ziploc bags for any possible liquid thing I might need to take with, necessitating a quick trip to Walgreen's trying to find bags and hygiene products in 3 oz size or less. Sigh.
• Confusion: Why am I supposed to care that Britney Spears shaved her head?
  
• Gratitude: It didn't seem so cold out today and next week is supposed to warm up nicely (i.e. constant double-digit temperatures). The snowblower came out twice last week and I am so sick of dirty slushy white piles and cold.
  
• Discomfort: My back hurts. Getting older and falling apart is starting to suck.
  
• Happiness: I am crushing on a boy (well, a man) who seems to like me in return. Cute? Yes. Sweet? Yes. And that just describes me - he brings even more to the party.
• Fear: See happiness. Wondering and waiting to see what happens.
• Contentment: curling up on the couch with my two favorite kitties is still one of the best feelings ever.
  

Blog Dump

Hello sports fans, long time no blog, yes I know. It's been a long few weeks, which included:

• What felt like the longest business trip in the history of mankind (11 days total), a symphony of enforced sitting overlaid with boredom interspersed with mild hints of interest and irritation, all of which was conveniently joined midstream by
• A superfun cold whose remnants I am still regularly evicting from my nose. Luckily there was a Target next to my hotel and I could crawl over there and get one of every cold medicine I could find. Zicam tastes like metallic cherryass but I do think it helped me shake off the fun faster. I was feeling mostly human again by the time I came back home, which was also just in time for
• the most disappointing Super Bowl in recent history. Hexy Rexy showed up instead of Sexy Rexy. I said it when he got hired and I'm saying it again now - Ron Turner is not a good offensive coordinator. The Colts controlled the clock masterfully and thanks to the regular 3-and-out Bears offense (or if we were super lucky, interception/fumble-and-out) the defense was worn out by halftime and couldn't have been expected to defend a pork roast from an Orthodox Jew. Aside from the bitter aftertaste of having to hand Peyton Manning his Super Bowl ring, I remain mostly philosophical about this season and am optimistic about next year. Heck, no one saw the Super Bowl coming this year, so Lovie Smith and the gang did pretty all right.
  

Other tidbits and fun facts:

• This business trip also included a mandatory weekend stay to get to know your colleagues better. We had the choice of a day trip to the Livermore wine country (southwest - or wast it southeast? of San Ramon, CA) or a tour of San Francisco. Having been to SF several times I chose the wine country tour which was mostly fun. Real estate development is so rampant in California, that the local governments and folk really have to fight to preserve any land they can for the wineries. Really very surreal to drive by subdivisions of houses that are butt-up next to grapevines. There was a lot of wine tasting and I brought home a nice Pinot Noir from Tenuta Vineyards. (No relation to Judy Tenuta as far as I know)
• There's a possibility I may get to go to Montreal next month for work, if mgmt gives the ok and I can get an expedited passport in time.
• I completed my first experiment in cable knitting (a reversible cable-knit scarf) and it looks pretty good if I do say so. I'm still not wanting to try a sweater though.
• I am so sick of snow.
• Upon my return to the arctic chills of Chicago, my face dried up faster than my ladybits after seeing Kevin Federline's Super Bowl commercial. I need a better moisturizer. And to not see Kevin Federline ever again.
  

Blog Soup

Ok since I haven't blogged in a while, here is a mishmosh of stuff.

BEARS GO TO THE SUPER BOWL, BABY!!!!! WOOOOOO!!! The Bears are in the Super Bowl for the first time since I was a FRESHMAN IN HIGH SCHOOL. *does booty dance*. I think we might be able to beat the Colts if our defense and Sexy Rexy do as well as they did today against the Saints. Dome teams are notoriously bad in the post-season in open stadiums, which the Colts are and Dolphin Stadium is. So here's hoping we can stuff Peyton Manning and his hokey Sprint commercials in the can. And a bit of history-making, with Lovie Smith coaching the Bears and Tony Dungy coaching the Colts, this Super Bowl is the first one with ANY African-American head coaches, much less two of them going head to head. And the guys are best friends. Should be a good show.

I'm leaving Tuesday for the annual company conference and sales kickoff. Sigh. This time they are keeping us over a weekend for some casual teambuilding opportunity, and I have to stay an extra two days afterwards for a training course. So that's 11 days I have to be gone. At this point I just want to get it over with. I will miss my little kitties horribly.

I got this tin of dark chocolate-covered Altoids on Saturday. I thought they'd be weird but they're quite good.

As tagged by John of the Sarchasm
A - Available/Single or Taken? Single
B - Best Friend? Deb
C - Cake or pie? Cake.
D - Drink Of Choice? water or diet coke
E – Essential Item You Use Everyday? my teeth
F - Favourite Color? blue. Not public bathroom turquoise blue though.
G - Gummy Bears Or Worms? Gummy bears.
H - Hometown? North suburbs of Chicago
I - Indulgence? dark chocolate
J - January Or February? February - it's closer to spring
K - Kids & Their Names? No
L - Life Is Incomplete Without? a comfy pillow.
M - Marriage date? No
N - Number Of Siblings? zero
O - Oranges Or Apples? Fuji Apples
P - Phobias/Fears? Clowns are fuckers.
Q - Favourite Quote? That's like asking me to choose between shit and shit with corn. (Yes that's mine)
R - Reason to Smile? purring kitties and chocolate
S - Season? Spring or Fall? Fall, there's only 3.5 days of spring in Chicago.
T - Tag 3 or 4 people? Everyone I know has been tagged
U - Unknown Fact About Me? If I told you ingrates, it wouldn't be unknown.
V - Vegetable you don’t like? green peppers.
W - Worst Habit? I have none. I am awesome.
X - X-rays You’ve Had? just my sprained ankle.
Y - Your Favorite Food? Sushi
Z – Zodiac sign? Scorpio

Vacation Should Never End

I can't believe it's Friday already. I love being on vacation. Sleeping late, plus I've actually managed to be mildly productive and get rid of a ton of junk in my house. De-cluttering feels so amazingly good. However I've been careful not to go around the bend and turn into my mother who lines up her remote controls with razor precision on the coffee table.

On a sad note, a friend's mother lost her battle with breast cancer right before Christmas. My friend's been so amazing and strong through it all. It really makes me admire her more, and it brings home the fact that life is too short to keep saying "oh I'll get in touch with so-and-so sometime - I don't have time today." So one of my new resolutions will be to stay in better touch with my friends. Friends are too valuable to be put on the back burners of my life.

Tonight I'll be seeing my best friend and one of our other friends for dinner. Knowing us, we will eat way too much. So be it, that's what vacation's about. I have a feeling I'll lose my appetite in January while looking forward to both the Bears flubbing the playoffs and my 11-day trip for work at the end of the month. Sigh.

Toodles!

Kibbles and Bits

I cannot WAIT for vacation!!! I'm off starting the 21st through end of year. Twelve glorious blissful days off. Apart from the requisite get-togethers with family and friends, my main mission for this time is to have a serious junk-ditching festival. It is amazing the amount of junk I have amassed since moving into this house 3 years ago. I will start the New Year with a clean junk-free house. I anticipate the feeling of accomplishment will be much like that of taking a good dump.

The Bears, much to my surprise and pleasure, performed quite well on Monday night. Wonders will never cease. Now, if Grossman goes back to his usual crazy next week, I will have to cut a bitch.

What the hell is with Sylvester Stallone? I guess I gotta give the man kudos for giving Rocky and Rambo another shot but that's not even what bothers me. I can't find a good recent picture of his face right now, but it looks like he fell out the Botox tree and hit every single branch on the way down. His plastic surgeon should be beaten to within an inch of his/her soulless life.

My office Christmas party was last weekend and largely uneventful. Of course, since there was no one to impress, my hair and makeup turned out fantastic. I'm afraid about wearing that shirt out in public again - the whole night I felt like my breasts were about to take a header. Effective for some situations perhaps, but none of those situations would happen at an office Christmas party.

My Twee!!!

Why Do I Hate My Cat?

In the grand tradition of pet owners who love to annoy their pets, and stuffonmycat.com...


"What the -- bitch, you have got to be kidding me."


"I have had JUST about enough of this shit."

When Did Family Guy Start to Suck???

I just sat through an episode that didn't even get one tiny smile out of me. I just stuck around to the end to see if Tom Brady was really the voice. He's got kind of a weird voice.

Musin' on a Sunday Afternoon

I've heard a good amount of grumbling in the last week that the Chicago Bears have to be the most reviled 9-2 (10-2 as of today) team in the NFL. And it's true. But it's true for a good reason. The Bears don't play like a 10-2 team. The defense plays like a 12-0 team. The offense plays like they got stuck in the movie Groundhog Day - every single week they forget they have a running game that actually works and instead dial up stupid big bomb passes. Rex Grossman makes bad decisions on the field. Ron Turner makes bad decisions in the booth. And Lovie Smith should have reeled all their stupid asses in a long time ago. The defense deserves an offense that will do something productive and give them the time they need to rest in between possessions. But instead they're stuck with...Groundhog Day.

I'm nearly done with holiday shopping. Yesterday I made a small road trip to procure some gifts that I hope people will really like - can't discuss details here in case one or three of my giftees is reading. I was coming back down 94 on my way to another mall and saw a car consumed in flames. Horrible. I'm hoping the passengers got out before it caught fire. The mall was filled with the normal crazy of the holidays, compounded by the fact that the parking lots were kind of a mess thanks to the snowquake on Friday. I really don't understand how these teenage girls stay so thin when they walk SO SLOWLY - unless they burn all their calories talking "OMG did you hear what he said about her? And then she went and told him off and you would NOT believe what he went and did..." Ugh. I know I'm getting old but I really cannot remember acting like such a self-centered ass at that age.

Yesterday I also managed to put up my tree! I haven't put on the ornaments yet, but the pre-lit glory is up and operational, so that's progress for me. Along with a puddle of puke containing artifical pine needles since my cat Guinness INSISTED on sampling the branches - no matter how often those branches have made him puke in the past.

I have the requisite office holiday party this coming Saturday and it doesn't look as though the weather will give me an out like it did last year. Oh well, at least we're having it at a Brazilian churrascaria type restaurant so the food should be good.

Three Dreams

Well, last night's REM activity was one for the record books.

In my first dream, I was in a house, looking out the back door. I saw these lumps on the ground and didn't know what they were. Turns out they were dead baby hippos. I looked further out and there were a bunch of dead adult hippos lying all over the lawn. Then the house was under siege by some law enforcement agency (police/FBI/Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles I don't know) because they thought a man in the house had been poisoning all the local hippos. You know, since hippos are local to.....anywhere near me.


(Hippos. From somewhere else)

Next up was a dream where I was having Mad Monkey Love with Brian Urlacher of the Bears. Now anyone who knows me knows that Urlacher is not really my type


(Brian Urlacher. Not my type.)

However, he is a fantastic football player which I suppose has some kind of redeeming qualities to my psyche.

Or it could have something to do with the fact that in my next dream I was on a tour bus with Jim from The Office.

Who totally IS my type except for I never got to ask him if he would like to pokey my hokey because I woke up.


(Jim. Apparently my type but inaccessible.)

So it might all mean that I'm never going to get a guy I consider to be "my type" but will have to settle for Mad Monkey Love with someone who has other redeeming characteristics? Or that I will have to move closer to where hippos are. I really don't know, I'm not good at this kind of thing.

Of Smells and Men

Well, I officially fell way too far behind in National Novel Writing Month. I had about 32,000 words but it's so awful, I have ditched it and am going to revisit it in the new year. I picked a really difficult way to tell the story (1st person from many different people) and it's just flushing itself down the toilet hard. So be it, I had a good - well, ok - time trying.

I'm watching the Bears get kicked lightly by the Patriots. Put it this way - Fox Sports just replayed a montage of the Bears oopsies to the Benny Hill theme music. And Tom Brady broke a Brian Urlacher tackle - which is pretty much like being able to escape an oncoming speeding building. Well, it's not over yet I guess. I didn't have much hope for this one anyway.

So I had a pretty good Thanksgiving - the usual eating to the point of gastrointestinal distress, hanging out with friends and family, sleeping in late (I am NOT one of those jackalopes willing to set foot near a retail establishment on Black Friday) I got to see my quasinephew Alex and heard the new funniest thing a 2.5 yr old kid has ever said. Evidently his dad came home from work one day and Alex ran to hug him, and after a moment pulled back and said "You smell, Daddy." I can't believe he's speaking in complete, totally truthful sentences.

I have the vast majority of my holiday shopping done. Woohoo! Plus about halfway through the handmade projects I've planned. However, I haven't gotten my tree up yet, and my house is a disaster area. I might need to wrap this up and go clean right now actually. I think that's what I will do. Check all yer asses later.

Of National Novel Writing Month and Other Paltry Excuses for Not Blogging

Yes I've been gone for MONTHS. Eons, if you will. All 4 of my fans have bitched me out over this. Maybe there's 6 of you. It shouldn't be that hard to lose count with such a teeny number, but there you go, I never said I was good with math. Or with fingers.

I can't really explain just what drained the blogging spirit from me. It could have something to do with that spoiled brat of a cousin that I referred to before, whom I welcomed into my house and whom my parents did everything they could for, only to discover that she was the It Girl of the Ungrateful Entitlement Generation. And I had to spend 7 days carting her ass around Disney World. Earth-shattering trauma, no. Festering thorn in my side, yes. Thankfully she has left my household for good.

Maybe I had an unconscious desire not to jinx the flow of politics in this country, that flow consisting of a heretofore undreamed-of deluge of GOP good old boys shooting themselves in both feet. No, my Karl Rove voodoo doll didn't QUITE produce a "Money's on the dresser, Chocolate" moment but a veritable Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade of page diddling, mistress beating, and Jack Abramoff-ing was satisfying nonetheless.

Currently, I find myself buried in swill of my own making, brought on by National Novel Writing Month (see link in title) A crazy-ass, unrealistic, psychotic exercise, whose main goal is to produce a 50,000 word rough draft of a novel in 30 days. It is particularly good for "one day" novel writers like myself (as in "one day I'll write a novel") as a means of getting the lead out of my ass and just writing. Quantity is the goal, not quality. My evil Inner Editor has been beaten soundly and taken to the hospital, although the dumb twat still calls me from there with the occasional admonition and snorts of scorn and ridicule.

It has been interesting and sometimes even mildly gratifying to see how I can make myself move a story along if I try hard enough (granted, it moves in sporadic, brief, ugly bursts - rather like an unpredictable case of diarrhea). Conversely, it has been humbling to see what quantities and what depths of utter shit I have been able to produce so far. I have been able to keep pace for the most part (1,667 words per day in order to have 50,000 in 30 days) - you can see my progress in the little icon off to the right in the sidebar. To make things worse, I have stuck myself with a problematic, dark and mostly somber plot, which doesn't really suit my deadpan humor skillz at all. Although last night I DID manage to get in a dig about Meg Ryan and Sandra Bullock movies.

So I still may not be around much in the next month or so, with noveling and then holidaying right on the heels of that. But I do really really appreciate all six of you tuning in and giving me your support.

Toodles,
D

Just When I Thought I Saw All the Stupid in the World

So I'm leaving Target, and I see this woman park her pickup truck. She gets out of the truck and she's yarping on her cell phone as her daughters get out the other side. Great, so she was talking on her cell and driving with young children in the car. THEN, she starts to waltz toward the store - without even bothering to shut the door of the truck since she was STILL yapping on the phone. Her daughters had to call her back to shut her door. I'm so tired of all the dumbass in the world.

What Dreams May Come

So last night I dreamt that I was going to be deported. How that is possible and to where I would be deported, I don't know, seeing as how I was born in this country, but in the regime of George W. Bush my subconscious probably figured anything was possible. So I'm being deported, and a guy I haven't seen since I graduated college agreed to marry me to keep INS off my ass. He then proceeds to get pissy at me for taking him for granted. This is a marriage of convenience, I say, there IS NOTHING to take for granted. He sulks and indicates he wants the marriage to be a real marriage. I wake up. I don't know why these dreams happen to me.

Teddy Bears and Dick Cheney: The Evils of Stuffed Soulless Objects

So, Dick Cheney shot someone.

Other than that, things haven't been too exciting with me. Took my cousin shopping on Saturday and then over to meet my good Indian friends for dinner. Their kids are getting so big - makes me feel all the older.

I was in Target on Friday buying toys for said kiddies, and pondering which Pocket Polly sets to get for the little girls, when I hear a woman and her daughter behind me, apparently looking for a gift for another child. The little girl suggested a stuffed animal, and her mom positively SNAPPED something along the lines of "Don't be ridiculous. What if (the kid) has some kind of allergies? I don't know any mother that would appreciate that kind of present."

Am I seriously that behind the times that I just don't know about stuffed animals being considered as weapons of mass inflammation? What happened to getting nice squishy teddy bears as a gift? I freaking loved those things. When did stuffed animals become sinister and harmful? (And Teddy Ruxpin doesn't count.) Am I the only one who is horrified by the woman's reaction? I think what further rubbed me the wrong way is that, ok maybe stuffed animals are the work of Satan, but you don't have to respond to your child like s/he is a mentally impaired menace to society. I wish I weren't reminded so often that people suck.

My Super Bowl Commentary

This won't be lengthy as I have no stake in Super Bowl XL, just a few comments.

I don't really care who wins, but I do like Jerome Bettis, and Matt Hasselbeck is the brother-in-law of Elizabeth Hasselbeck, one of those vapid biddies who hosts The View on ABC. Not only can I not tolerate anyone who will work with Star Jones, but this particular vapid biddy spoke at the 2004 Republican National Convention. So I'm going to lean towards the Steelers.

What was with people booing Tom Brady for the coin toss? Sure I'm glad that for once in a bozillion years that the Patriots aren't in the Super Bowl, but come on, there's no need to boo the guy. It's not like he's Randy Moss.

Al Michaels = cheesedick.

Rolling Stones for the halftime show = safe choice, somewhat boring, better than Britney Spears wearing a sock on her arm or Janet Jackson Boobgate every single day of the year. I guess you gotta credit them dried-up pieces of leather for their sheer stamina to keep on keepin' on.

September 24, 2006 - the New Orleans Saints will be back in the Superdome!!! Whoohoooo!!!

My Weekend - Sushi, Chatty Cathies, and Getting Molested by a 2 yr old

So, the summary for this weekend.

My cousin has been itching to see the sights in downtown Chicago, so I finally had a weekend with enough time to devote the day to take her down there. We got on the train and hopped over to the Sears Tower. I don't think I'd been to the Skydeck in at least 20 years if not more. My cousin was properly shocked and awed by the view from there. It was a bit too cloudy to see really far, but we got to see enough. We're peering out at the Hancock and Navy Pier, when I feel tiny fingers on my inner thigh. Whaaa??? I look down for the owner of the fingers, get a little 2 yr old girl by the hand and say "I'm not your mom, hon!" She looks up at me, completely unfazed, lets go of my hand and goes to burrow in the correct set of legs ( I assume.) I wasn't even wearing the same color pants as her mother.

Skygaping done, we went over to have lunch at Cheesecake Factory at the bottom of the Hancock, which my cousin also loved, and then did some shopping at Water Tower. My cousin actually ran into a girl there who was her best friend during kindergarten in Korea. The girl's living in Chicago now studying English. How crazy is that? Cuzz nearly had a heart attack.

Then, my aunt insisted that my cousin buy my mom a birthday present, which is no easy task. Mom is the worst person in the world to buy presents for. Anyone who thinks I'm the worst person to buy for should meet my freaking mom. Not only do clothes and jewelry not work for her, but she is one of 7 women in the world who has no interest in bath and body stuff or candles. Knitting or crocheting stuff for her in the last year has been my saving grace. We ended up not getting anything for her at WT, but came back home and checked out the local mall, where we got a bamboo plant in a ceramic dragon dish, and this (Japanese?) teeny tiny wooden scene thing encased in glass. Or something.

On the way back home on the Metra, my cousin and I were seized with private giggling and sympathy at the plight of a woman across the aisle, who had gotten caught in the throes of an Overly Friendly Talker. This poor little woman had gotten stuck in the same seats as a gentleman who would. not. shut. up. The beleaguered woman had to get on her cell phone to get a break from him. And when her call regrettably ended, of course the man just started talking again. I informed cousin that this is why she can't come to Chicago alone on the train. She was properly put off the idea for good. Evidently in Korea, Overly Friendly Talkers are non-existent, so she's quite startled when strangers talk to her at all.

Sunday was Mom's birthday, so I took my cousin and the p's over to Todai Seafood Buffet in Schaumburg which means all you can eat sushi. Gooooooood stuff. Sushi is really just an excuse for me to eat wasabi. Mom loved the lace scarf that I made her and the gifts from my cousin, plus the carrot cake that we made for her turned out pretty freaking yum. I'm getting old as I am just freaking exhausted right now. Trying to stay awake and knit and peek alternately at the Super Bowl and the 2nd Annual Animal Planet Puppy Bowl. I don't really get the purpose of the Puppy Bowl - it seems to be 3 straight hours of watching puppies play. But I can think of a lot worse ways to spend my time than watching puppies.

I'm putting paid to this post and inviting one of my kitties to sit on my lap instead of this machine. Toodles.

And You Thought America Was Repressed

So, I've been learning a few things about life in Korea from my new roomie, my cousin. One of the major things is that Koreans are VERY appearance-conscious. LK may make fun of me for having seen me in sneakers only once, but I'm a Price Mart piece of trash compared to the importance that Koreans seem to place on their images.

Women are extremely conscious of their weight - fat women are very rare in Korea. Men are also conscious of their weight although maybe not to the exact same extent. Plastic surgery is more common in Korea than in America. (although if the average American could afford it I'd be interested to see where the rates would skyrocket to - Pluto, or only Uranus. Hee hee, Uranus.) And Koreans LOVE their designer brand names. Ralph Lauren, Tommy Hilfiger, if it's an overpaid American designer, they want to wear it and wear them logos LARGE.

So this leads into tonight, when my cousin and I were watching Project Runway on Bravo, which we both love. It's really interesting to see what kinds of designs the contestants come up with, and of course any reality tv is a fine study in train wreck sociology. I made the comment that I would marry one of the men working for the show (he seems to be the majordomo of the show, Tim Gunn, for those of you who watch.) even though he may be gay. My cousin was quite surprised to find out that a large percentage of the men on the show were in fact gay. She's also been exposed to Queer Eye for the Straight Guy, which seems to have given her the impression that there are a LOT of gay men in America. She commented that she didn't think there were many gay men at all in Korea. I said "or maybe there are, but they just haven't told anyone." Because let's face it, where there are people, there are heterosexuals and homosexuals. Whether or not they can speak about it, and consequently how much their presence is recognized, is largely defined by their culture and environment. And I think it's likely that in Korea, people just don't speak about homosexuality much. Granted, my cousin is only 20, and I had encountered a lot less gay people at 20 than I have by the ripe old age of 34. But I very much doubt that she will encounter too many openly gay Korean men, just because it seems like the appearance-conscious culture over there is not amenable to them.

But honestly, where do they think they are getting all their beloved designer brand name clothes from? Straight men??? Have they SEEN the way straight men dress????