I made it through the wilderness

Internets, I recently wrote about my affinity for 80s night at the local watering hole. I stopped by last night to meet Gymnast for a drink, intending only to stay for a teensy bit before heading home at a reasonable hour to fulfill my role as a responsible worker bee.

Well, as usual, it ended up being more out of control than one would expect for a Monday night (80 cent drinks really do draw out an energetic crowd!). The place was packed, people were dancing and demonstrating their love for each other all over, lyrics were yelled and fists were pumped. Stella lodged firmly in paw, Panda!!!! enjoyed watching the shenanigans from the sidelines and casting judgment with Gymnast.

The poor bouncer really does have his work cut out for him on 80s night. This man deserves a raise! Two incidents he had to deal with were particularly noteworthy in my mind:

The bar has circular metal tables, each about 3 feet in diameter, suspended from a central metal pole that’s bolted to the ceiling. When patrons get overly “ambitious,” they tend to treat the suspension pole as a stripper pole and the tabletop as a stripper box. Last night, the DJ (a big fan of Roommate A, by the way) played “Like a Virgin” and the crowd erupted in a crazed frenzy. One girl launched up on one of the tables and began gyrating away, pressing her hands all over her body and whipping her hair around her face, like “Coyote Ugly” meets Sacramento. The bouncer leapt to her side and started to pull her down from the table, but she thought it was her adoring public grasping at her legs, egging her on and upping the ante. When she realized she was being pulled down off the table, she went limp and crumpled to the ground, her plastic cup of 80-cent vodka drink tossed into the air, splashing onto nearby revelers. That was how she got back at the bouncer!

Shortly after, one bar patron pulled his t-shirt off over his head and started popping and locking frenetically, at his posse’s urging. The bouncer approached and casually informed him that toplessness was completely verboten. Well, his friends had a very “clever” idea about how they should exact their revenge. One friend handed over her tank top, a pretty baby blue number with spaghetti straps, and shirtless boy squeezed his torso into it. Yes, a grown-up man wearing a tiny baby blue tank top – that’ll show the bouncer! Proud of their subversive behavior, the group cheered and shot smug glances at the bouncer.

Ah, another 80s night! I left at the height of the madness, knowing that I had to be responsible at The Corporation this morning. Gymnast sent me a text after I returned home, letting me know that, shortly after my exit, the DJ played “The Promise.” Sad. I miss everything!

You want to know how I lost my virginity? So do I.

When I take stock of the television landscape, I cringe a bit. Despite my admittedly strong addiction to craptacular reality-based television (see "Rock of Love," "The Search for the Next Pussycat Doll," "The Hills," etc.), I do appreciate well-wrought, thoughtful scripted television series as well.

When I look toward the fall and realize that my dearest "Veronica Mars" will not be returning, I get a wee depressed. If you never watched this gem of a show, I implore you to rent the Season One DVDs immediately, and I dare you to stop watching. Lil' Bro Panda!!!! introduced me to the series a few years ago and I spent two consecutive days watching the first season on my couch. I've since introduced the show to several friends who have also succumbed to the same fate.

Veronica, without you, my Tuesdays will feel hollow.

I'm sorry but I'm just thinking of the right words to say

Monday night at the local watering hole is 80s night, dedicated to off-the-shoulder t-shirts, new wave tunes and 80-cent drinks! Even better, you can usually count on the DJ playing one of my all-time favorite songs, "The Promise" by When In Rome. Panda!!!! LOVES!

Which one of you was Frankie Valli?

Last night we celebrated Blanca's birthday (yes, again!) at a lovely Vietnamese restaurant here in San Francisco. Our party was comprised of fifteen gay boys and one Cha Cha diva. As the hostess led us into the main dining room to our table, I noticed that a table of two ladies and one large queeney man were staring at us.

As we sat down, I turned to Mahogany Sparkle and asked why they were staring at us. We couldn't figure out why they were staring, but suddenly, the blonde lady approached our table and exclaimed, "We just saw your show! I'm sorry to disturb you, but could you sign our playbill?"

We were all somewhat perplexed, but Pork Chop rose to the occasion and offered to sign the ladies' "Jersey Boys" playbill. In fact, he claimed to be the lead in the play - the Frankie Valli character!

I could barely contain my laughter as the blonde Jersey girl and the red-headed Walnut Creek resident posed for pictutres with our table and very appreciatively approached each of my friends, asking for an autograph. Meanwhile, their big queeney friend looked skeptical and we thought he would reveal their error, but they didn't seem to realize they had mistaken a gaggle of gays for the cast of the "Jersey Boys."

Do you want fries with that?

Panda!!!! met Wang and her husband for a lovely lunch at a new EYE-talian restaurant near Union Square. It was one of those restaurants that wants so desperately to be the next, hip SF joint. Come for happy hour! We have fancy chandeliers! The outside patio is inviting on those three sunny days during the year!

Truth be told, the place was very nice and very tastefully decorated. It was clear that management had put much thought into the aesthetics. And Panda!!!! can certainly appreciate that.

I ordered the grass-fed burger with guanciale and stracchino, with a side of polenta fries. Fancy! Well, Internets, I learned today that "guanciale" is Italian for "bacon" and "stracchino" is a type of cheese. YAY! Bacon cheeseburger! Why didn't the menu just say that?

Les new maths

If it's Blanca's birthday and she's rushing to Tubesteak at 30 mph, while Panda!!!! decides to head home on paw at 5 mph, will a speeding train make it to its destination on time despite the appearance of Chubster on the railroad tracks?

Happy birthday BLANCA!!!

Millard Fillmore?

Gleemonex turned me on to this here game that has brought back a torrent of painful memories. First of all, I recalled a measley 26 of our fair nation's 43 leaders. Sixty percent. D-

Internets, when I was in high school, I enrolled in a US History AP course - a class that spanned my junior and senior years and culminated in my worst grade ever.

Our instructor, Mr. Dienger, frequently admonished me, and on several occasions, kicked me out of the classroom. Other things I remember from this class:

"Panda!!!!, peel yourself off the ceiling!"
"Panda!!!!, move desks to sit next to the large and crazy twins, one of whom has a femullet."
"Kill the Kroener!"
"NM the Third, are you eavesdropping on our conversation? Because you're giggling when we're telling secret stories!"
"I'm too sexy for my shirt ... NOT!"
"Do you wear tank tops because your head is too large to fit into normal shirts?"
"Marilyn Monroe feels good."

She works hard for the money

Like any other jobby, Panda!!!!'s workflow at The Corporation ebbs and flows. Well, right now it's high tide! Despite (because of?) my little Sandy Eggo getaway, I feel like work has heat up to a new level. Big projects are all coming to a head in the next three weeks, and i'm feeling a bit overwhelmed. A tad stressed. A smidge in over my head.

No matter, I'm sure I'll recover. Fortunately, I have a mint flavored It's-It waiting for me in the freezer.

Run for the border

Internets, for whatever reason, approximately 80 percent of my meals during the last week have had a Mexican flair to them. I've had enchiladas, nachos, burritos, chicken pipian, chicken mole... The list goes on.
Olé!

Send this smile over to you

Right now, Kitten keeps sending me messages from the Smashing Pumpkins concert and I am jealous. Originally, I didn't want to attend the show, but now that the event is here, I wish I were there, belting out the soundtrack to my high school days at the top of my lungs.

"Disarm" was particularly mesmerizing and powerful for me during my adolescence. I remember playing this song over and over again and subjecting my friends and family to an endless loop of Billy Corgan's voice and with symphonic backing. Listening to it years later, I still love it.

My little baby's all growns up

My pal Wang has been sharing my bloggie with some of her friends, one of which decided that I should post these pictures of an itty-bitty newborn babe. I'm complying because it's totes cute.

To the red, to the black

Panda!!!! is incredibly lucky to have the Swerve, a group of gal-pals whose enduring friendship began more than a decade ago, in a brightly-lit pool at a liberal arts college in nowheresville, CT. Through our common experiences as members of the same university swim team, we have bonded through thrillingly close races, traumatic early morning runs in Florida, mountainous breakfast feasts and marathon boozey dance parties, fueled by Madonna and Prince.

We're now spread across three countries in four time zones, but we manage to have real-time conversations on topics ranging from blood doping in professional sports, frightening academic endeavors with unkind professors, superhuman triathlon triumphs, impending parenthood, touchy-feely co-workers, theories about "Lost", the bleak state of the American educational system, confusing punctuation rules, Rihanna videos, global efforts to bring organizational structure to the internets, and most importantly, what we've eaten for lunch.

More than helping me get out of my Corporation-assigned cube on a daily basis, the Swerve offers unwavering support, sound advice, an eager audience for my frustrations and above all else, the opportunity to chuckle.

Family dining, indeed

Before leaving Sandy Eggo, Kitten, Lil' Sis Panda!!!! and I got together for a last meal. Our destination? The local branch of Hooters!

Neither Kitten nor I had ever been to a Hooters before (Lil' Sis Panda!!!! had been to three), so we weren't sure what to expect. I remember that the chain was ridiculously promoting itself as "family dining" at some point, so I thought there would be some sense of wholesomeness to it. At the least, I expected some pretty good fried food.

Well, it didn't seem like a place where any family should gather. No matter who you are, and what your sexual leanings are, you cannot help but stare at the Hooters girls' boobs and bums. All around us were tables of single, dodgy men - and even one group of little leaguers - who were staring vacantly at the boxing match on tv or "slyly" touching the waitresses as they passed by. One patron even had his waitress pose so that he could capture her image on his cell phone.

Our waitress, Shawnee, was really peppy and friendly. She patiently entertained my dumb questions ("Is posing for pictures in your job description?" "What are the hoola-hoops for?") and I think she was relieved that we clearly weren't interested in ogling her goodies.

Overall, the restaurant was sort of depressing. The tables were dirty and the food was well below par. Panda!!!! will probably stay away from other Hooters locations.

Please don't stop the music

Our adventures in the South are drawing to a close, and while I've had fun in Sandy Eggo, I think I'm ready to return home and - dare I say it - to the jobby.

After last week's 'round-the-clock madness, I'm eager to see the results of our hard work when I return to the office tomorrow. And I suspect I have a butt-load of work waiting for me when I get back.

Kitten and I are leisurely lounging in our hotel, getting ready to depart and have a final meal with Lil' Sis Panda!!!! when she gets done with work. Yesterday, she took us on an eating extravaganza, starting at a restaurant where the unbelievably ginormous portions were served in porcelain troughs. We followed this brunch excess up with a decadent dessert from a very fine bakery. And that's about all Panda!!!! ate yesterday.

Another highlight of our last 24 hours in Sandy Eggo was a trip to the Zoo, where I got to visit some of my brethren (pictured). According to the whispering lady who narrated our visit to the Panda House, loud noises may induce panda miscarriages, so I kept shushing all the screaming kids around me.

And after visiting the Zoo wildlife, Kitten and I dance, dance, danced all night - with other sorts of wildlife. And most importantly, the DJ played a very hot remix of "Please Don't Stop the Remix" by girl of the moment, Rihanna. It was one of those remixes where you think the song is over, but then it resumes and all the revelers cheer and jump and dance and pump their fists and look like fools.

'Twas fun, but I think Panda!!!!'s chiropractor is going to be upset when Panda!!!! returns to SF less bendable than when he left.

Lamda Sigma Delta

Internets, I think Sandy Eggo is one big frat party. I thought the thirst for Abercrombie and AE t-shirts had died, but maybe that's true only in SF, where Mission Hipster fashions reign supreme.

Here, it seems that the uniform remains AF t-shirt or tank, paired with camouflage cargo shorts and Havaianas. Of course, there's nothing wrong with this look; it's simply surprising to see so much of it. Everywhere.

In my panda mind, there are benefits (benefit) and drawbacks to frat Sandy Eggo:

Benefits
+ The clean-cut, worked-out look

Drawbacks
- Homogeneity
- Overly drunk folks
- Inappropriate grabbing (maybe that belongs in the other category?)
- Bar fights
- Macho male posturing
- Baseball cap ubiquity
- "Theme" nights (see country line dancing at Mo's)
- Lots of blue drinks
- Sweatiness
- The Macarena

This is the true story...

Kitten and I have been touring the Sandy Eggo homo scene today. We have bumped into our fair share of "celebs" today - yay!

First, we saw Rachel and Veronica from MTV's "Real World/Road Rules, blah blah blah." I guess we also saw someone from "Big Brother" - a show I've never watched, but Kitten insisted that we saw someone from Season 1. Someone hairy and ... hairy.

Finally, we saw Ricky, from "My So Called Life" dancing and dancing. I think he's on some other show these days, buy he'll forever be sidekick to Claire Danes and AJ Langer in my book!

When life gives you lemons

While Kitten is visiting the litter box, I thought I'd share with the Internets what happened when he ordered a lemonade earlier today. Our waiter brought him a beverage that tasted like ... dirty water. It turns out that he had assembled the "lemonade" by squeezing the juice of half a lemon into a pint glass, adding some water and non-alcoholic triple sec. Ick.

Bow-chicka-wow-wow

Upon reading my little bloggie, Same Brain sent me this photo of a panda watching panda porn. Guess she thinks I'm a little pervy in my tv usage.

The eggo's not quite sandy

Roommate A woke me up this morning and asked if we were spending our Sandy Eggo vacation blogging and watching MTV in our hotel room. While that would be a lovely vacation, we have managed to get out into the community, thanks to Lil' Sis Panda!!!! and Guido.

Guido was kind enough to collect Kitten and me from the hotel and take us out on the town. He took us to the top of a different, less chic hotel, where we had a spectacular view of the city, but the crowd was rather ... lackluster. In Guido's words, "It's an older crowd," and it was.

We then hit the local homo hotspots, which were fun, but not as hot as I'd have hoped. Maybe it was Panda!!!!'s still-sleep-deprived brain, but for whatever reason, I faded quickly and had to return to our hotel and review my night, a la yelp.com.

But I guess the reason my little vacay isn't picture-perfect is because the soleil hasn't been cooperating. It can't seem to fight through the mean clouds. Sad. Time to eat!

Lez fantasia

While I'm waiting for Kitten to lick himself clean, I thought I'd reminisce a bit...

One night not too long ago, Roommates A and J, Lucy Ricardo and I were talking about Margaret Cho's brilliant song, "My Puss"Beetle, recently returned from an eye-opening trip to Thailand, was regaling us with a tale of a woman he encountered with very talented genitalia. It seems she could forcibly eject a banana from ... down there!

So, as an ode to Beetle's story and to the Margaret Cho song, we made up the following lyric:

"Your puss: shoot banana
My puss: Princess Diana"

Sandy Eggo and the order of the sexy hotel

Kitten and I are in Sandy Eggo! We woke up at the butt-crack of dawn, hopped on a PACKED airplane (once again, I was squished by a big girl) and arrived early this morning!

Lil' Sis Panda!!!! picked us up and took us to a lovely breakfast that mirrored our ethnicities (see "Chino-Latino"). It was nice seeing Lil Sis Panda!!!!, but she had to go work at the beisebol stadium. We shall meet up again later tonight.

Since we couldn't check into our sexy of sexiest hotels, Kitten and I went to see the new "Harry Potter" flick. Panda!!!! was somewhat underwhelmed, but still enjoyed the moving pictures.

Internets, I'm thrilled to be in Sandy Eggo - and away from work. Yippee!!!

It's like I have ESPN or something

In between un-packing and packing, I caught up on "Big Love" - a show that I heart, heart, HEART! The show has a remarkably strong cast, and I'm particularly fond of Ginnifer Goodwin, Tina Majorino and Chloe Sevigny.

But, I've been very impressed with Amanda Seyfried. She first emerged on my radar as Karen, the ditzy, big-boobed "plastic" on "Mean Girls." I watched her in an interview about the role and deduced that she was pretty vapid in real-life, so the "acting" must not have been much of a stretch for her.

Then, she appeared as Lily Kane in "Veronica Mars" (RIP) and I thought she played a slight variation on her Karen character. Lily actually was a more dynamic character and I started to appreciate Amanda's talents a bit more.

Now, on "Big Love" I sort of find her mesmerizing. She's fantastic as the teenager who's caught between her polygamist family and her desire to fit into the rest of "normal" society.

Internets, I don't care whether Amanda's boobs can already tell it's raining in real life. She's pretty cool in my book.

Big girls, you are beautiful...

... except when one of you sits on either side of me in an itty-bitty airplane row! Really, how do I always get stuck betwixt the big girls? I myself am a big girl, so the arrangment doesn't really work for me.

Panda!!!! is home! The press check is dunzo, and I am very happy and tired. I'm looking forward to seeing the finished product, but right now I am excited to get unpacked and get to sleep - for more than 3 hours at a time!

I want my MTV

Stupid hotels in Commerce, CA! Why don't any of you have MTV? My withdrawal's so bad, I've got the shakes. Then again, it could be because my body is reacting negatively to my sleep "schedule." I miss Hilary.I think I'm going looney tunes.

You take my self, you take my self-control...

For me, the hardest part of this whole press check process is the utter loss of control over my life. My sleeping pattern is regulated by the whims of a monster printing press. My "free time" is dedicated to doing work I'd otherwise be doing in the office. My workouts consist of pacing back and forth, while scrutinizing sample forms that roll off the machine.

Worst of all, I have very little control over what I eat. Don't get me wrong - we've been eating very well. Our printer, understanding what a grueling and stressful process this is, tries to make it as comfortable as possible. The printing plant is stocked full of comfort snacks including candy bars, microwaveable mac & cheese, chips and a fruit or two. The printer also likes to take us to the nicest restaurants possible. Sometimes, this means the Thai restaurant in the nearby strip mall because we will be called back at any second. Other times, it means finding a steak house where we can gorge ourselves on medium-rare cow.

I am by no means a picky eater. And therein lies the problem. Tonight, we dined at the Palm, where we enjoyed a very heavy meal consisting of something saladesque, several cuts of beef, fried onion strings, kettle chips, crab cakes, creamed spinach and chocolate cake.

Internets, tonight I learned that I sort of love creamed spinach. And this, coupled with the fact that I have not exercised since Saturday, does not bode well for my upcoming weekend in a swimsuit. Panda!!!! is a fatty-boom-blatty.

Rollin' Rollin' Rollin'...

Well internets, it seems the printing gods are on our side again. After yesterday's challenges, the printing press doesn't seem to have any problems now (knock wood)!

How do I know this? Well, it's 8:20am and I've woken up for press checks three times in the past eight hours. This is good news - work is getting done, progress is being made.

This is also bad news - our fastest press check, at 4:00 this morning, took 30 minutes. The longest press check took nearly four hours. These variances help contribute to knocking my routine right out of whack and I am S-L-E-E-P-Y. My body ain't used to sleeping two hours at a time and having to concentrate at 2am.

All 7 and we'll watch them fall...

One of my oldest and dearest friends, Bullet Tosser, sent me a gchat asking who the author of Chiieew! was. She suspected it was mine, but wasn't certain - and ironically, had sent a post from said bloggie to her sister.

After revealing that Panda!!!! is the warped mind behind Chiieew!, she read with great interest and reminded me that we may have spent our youth choreographing moves to our favorite songs, all in an effort to pass the time at weekend-long swim meets, in the hours-long car rides to said meets and perhaps even during our daily swim practice sessions. Understanding that we were more interested in listening to "7" by Prince and "Self Control" by Laura Branigan, is it any wonder neither of us has been inducted in the U.S. Swimming Hall of Fame?

7 Lyrics

Celeb sighting: Tootsie

For some reason, our printing press decided to malfunction, which meant that we had several hours to wait until it got up and running today. After switching hotels and leaving the Babylonian gambling oasis of the Commerce Casino, we decided to head into more civilized territory and have lunch at the Ivy.

I've read about the Ivy and it's star-studded patrons in the pages of US Weekly and People magazines, and it's for that very reason that I've never really wanted to eat there. But our vendor insisted that we go for the delicious foods and the LA experience.

Fortunately, I wasn't disappointed on either front. My meal was fantastic and everything that came from the kitchen looked divine. I especially liked the country cottage decor - very much not what I expected of an LA hotspot.

And, we got to see Dustin Hoffman! My first celeb sighting of this trip. I only wish it had been LC or Kristin or Audrina.

Wake me up, before you print print

I've just returned to my temporary home, the Commerce Casino, after spending over an hour at the printing plant. As I mentioned, the Corporation has me in Commerce, CA, where I am on "press check" for our Social Responsibility Report. Believe me, the irony of supporting a gambling establishment while working on corporate social responsibility is not lost on me!

Every few hours, I'm required to return to the printing plant to check the pages that are coming off the press. My job is mainly to check for typos and to make sure content changes haven't occurred. My colleagues are checking for color matching, ink density and other design elements, including photography. Really, my job seems easier to me, but then again, I don't have the expertise to understand why one black is better or worse than another.

We left for the plant this morning shortly before 4am, and I was a bit of a zombie upon arrival. But after starting to read the pages (and thanks to the stench of the nearby dog food factory), I totes perked up. It's surprising how alert you can be when you have to be. And it's a good thing, too, because I found some errors that caused us to re-do some of the pages, at no small expense to the Corporation. Although no one yelled "Stop the presses!" an alarm did sound as they brought the machine to a halt. Good job, Panda!!!!

So, now I'm relaxing a bit before returning to sleep. Returning through the hotel lobby and the main gaming floor, it was abundantly clear that some (most) of the casino patrons have not been to sleep at all. This place is weird.

Chariots of fire

Internets, this is the hotel I'm calling "home" right now. It's a monstrosity, but it can be explained by this quote from the website: "With a sweeping Assyrian/Babylonian-themed entry created by famed Flamingo Hotel and Rose Parade Float designer Raul Rodriquez..."

Midnight messiness

On Saturday night, Roommates A and J, Kitten and GarGar went to see John Waters introduce his classic film "Female Trouble" at Midnight Mass.

Roommate J posted a clip of the event on YouTube and I promised I'd feature it on Chiieew! So, here it is...

Scaredy Panda!!!!

Coming to Los Angeles without a car may not have been the smartest move. Last night, after meeting up with friends in West Hollywood, I had to make my way to the lovely city of Commerce to check into my hotel and get some sleep before the jobby part of my visit began.

Mapquest informed me that it would take about 30 minutes to make the journey, so my friend called a taxi to come pick me up around midnight. The dispatcher assured us that a cab would be over in 12 minutes. Well, 30 minutes later, a black SUV with tinted windows rolled up and asked if we had called a cab. I timidly replied that we had, and he declared that he was the cab driver, shaking his radio above his head as proof.

After about five minutes of assuring us that he was indeed a legitimate taxi driver, and that he just drove an unmarked car, I entered the backseat, still skeptical, but very tired and very eager to get to my hotel.

As we traveled along the freeway, the taxi driver noticed that one of his back wheels was making a strange sound. Was that metal on asphalt? He believed he had a flat tire. So, he pulled off the freeway, somewhere in East LA. I looked around and realized we were in quite an unsavory neighborhood. He pulled over, stopped the car and got out to look at his back tire.

At this point, many thoughts ran through my head and I began furiously texting my friend so that I could be in contact with someone (while trying to maintain my panda cool, so that the taxi driver wouldn't realize that I understood he was about to shoot me in the head). "What is he reaching for in the trunk?" "Is his partner going to jump out from that alley and attack me?" "Does he really have a flat tire? And if so, what if someone senses that we are helpless victims?" "Why the hell did I get into a 'taxi' without any proper taxi markings?"

The taxi driver drove a few more blocks and pulled into a gas station, where he called his brother to pick me up. While he tended to his tire, I kept frantically texting my friend, who wrote, "Should I call 911?"

Several minutes later, taxi driver's brother pulled up and I hopped into his car. Luckily, these "taxi"-driving hermanos were legit and he got me to my hotel safe and sound, but quite shaken up.

Internets, what would you have done? What should I have done? Getting in this car and traveling through East LA at 1am was probably not the brightest decision I've made in my short life...

LA LA Land

The corporation has required me to be in Los Angeles this week, conducting a press check for our Social Responsibility Report. I'll elaborate on this process later, but I wanted to record a few of my thoughts about LA so far.

I arrived yesterday evening and got the chance to spend time with a good friend of mine who used to live in SF. We did a tour through downtown LA (to pick up another friend's new car) and experienced the glamour of West Hollywood nightlife.

Past experience has left me with certain impressions of this city, and these last few hours have reinforced them.

* This city is ALL about entertainment - everywhere are billboards for movies, TV shows, celebrities. LA revolves around me as its customer.
* People here are strikingly beautiful, in a very conventional way. I've completely stopped eating carbs and am looking forward to working out.
* In LA you need a car. And a nice one.
* I prefer hot summer weather to cold, foggy SF nights.

Suggestion box

Last night Panda!!!! received his first complaint about Chiieew! I knew that blogging might prove irksome to friends and family, so I was prepared for the "feedback."

Well, it seems that Bill Paxton doesn't like his nickname, so I need to think of another one. Selives and I held a little brainstorming session and came up with "Mongoloid Tranny," "Corky," and "Oh Bla Dee." I'm going to ruminate on this a bit before declaring a new pseudonym for Bill Paxton.

S-A-T-U-R-D-A-Y-NIGHT!

Dear Internets,

I just returned from a lovely birthday party/dance extravaganza at Etiquette and Bootie. I met up with my friends Blanca, ChickenHawk, Selives, PorkChop and Bill Paxton at Etiquette and we were joined by Mahogany Sparkle, Mattress and Beetle, among others.

It was a lovely party and a lovely space. I think they all continued on to Selives and PorkChops' place - at Cha Cha's urging, but I randomly ran into Roommates A and J and GarGar, who were exiting the Stud and shared a cab home. Meanwhile, Kitten was apparently inside, dancing and dancing.

So, after a night of drinking and dancing, I am home, blogging and going to bed. But I love that I got to see all my friends tonight, even if it was unplanned.

Vive la France!

Aujourd'hui c'est le 14 juillet.

Allons, enfants de la Patrie,
Le jour de gloire est arrive,
Contre nous de la tyrannie
L'etendard sanglant est leve,
L'etendard sanglant est leve.

Entendez-vous, dans le campagnes,
Mugir ces feroces soldats?
Ils viennent jusque dans no bras,
Egorger nos fils, nos compagnes.

Aux armes, citoyens! Formez vos bataillons! Marchons! Marchons!
Qu'un sang impur abreuve nos sillons!

Voluntary lunchslaughter

Internets, I ned to get out into the community more. It's been several months since Roommate A began working at Project Open Hand, a local organization that provides nutrition services to seniors and people living with HIV/AIDS and other serious illnesses, and today a group of us volunteered at the Curry Senior Center, serving lunch to community seniors.

I arrived bright and (relatively) early (for a Saturday) and joined Roommates A and J, Kitten, Blanca and Bill Paxton to serve 120 meals of salmon (They called it salmon, but it was pretty white-looking to Panda!!!!), lentils, salad, vegetables, a nectarine and milk. Among us, Bill Paxton had the most waitressing experience, but somehow he managed to stay behind the scenes, on the plate assembly line.

Of course, my lovely friends and I made the event into our own little party! Some highlights:

* Blanca looking at a patron with a sea captain's cap and asking, "Is that for real?" - to which Bill Paxton replied "Yes, this is reality."
* When asked where Mahogany Sparkle was, Roommate J responded, "She's at home, being selfish."
* The fellow who tried to bite his nectarine, but instead tossed it over his shoulder and looked at his hand with puzzlement
* Bill Paxton smelling vodka on Blanca's breath
* Roommate J finding a 2-liter Mountain Dew bottle filled with whiskey under one of the tables
* The patron who asked Roommate A for some wine
* Blanca bristling at the hospital smell on Bill Paxton's newly-washed hands and Roommate J squeaking (yes, squeaking), "It means they're clean!"

After our strenuous volunteering, we lunched at the mall and celebrated Kitten's birthday, even though it's not his birthday.

But truly, it's been a while since I've been in my community and I really do think I need to volunteer more often. I probs will do this again.

Volumizer

This clip makes me think a lot of things...
1. How does she get her hair that big?
2. Will she ever surpass K.Cla as the leading American Idol?
3. Where are Ann and Nancy Wilson these days?
4. Why won't they play "Alone" at 80s night at BOC?
5. Shouldn't someone make a circuit remix of "Alone" for me to dance to?
6. Will I ever go to bed?

Procreation

A little research on my trusty internets will reveal that there is a grafitti "artist" in San Francisco with the tag "pandasex." I guess some people who actually get outside once in a while might realize this too. In any case, Roommate J insisted that I post the below picture on Chiieew! He writes, "It's for your BLOG!! This one says CHINA WHITE!"

And indeed it does.

Only emptiness remains...

Today Kitten keeps asking me to send him sad songs. And he keeps sending me sad song lyrics (they say so much!). Well, one song in particular came to mind and it made me giggle.

I remember being a young cub and taking this song so seriously. I thought it was so beautiful, so fraught with meaning. "But mom, it's about drug addiction! It's serious and beautiful and I am a very deep kid!"

INSPI(RED)

Some of my adoring fans have wondered, "Chiieew!? What the HAELL??" And for them, I present the inspiration behind my bloggie's title...

Internets, what do you think? Did Hooked on Phonics work for me?

McSteamy stories

My gym, despite being of the upper-crust variety, certainly has its share of whack-jobs. I've seen my fair share of looney behavior, but today I witnessed something a little ... different.

Imgaine my surprise, upon stepping into the steamroom, to see a gym patron performing ... jumping jacks! Yes, in the steamroom! Where it is steamy and hot!

There are many reasons why you'll never see me indulging in this type of behavior, including the following:

1. I don't want to make other steamroom users uncomfortable with the ... flopping.
2. It's a billion degrees in there already, the extra exertion would definitely push me over the edge.
3. I would probably slip on the slick floor and bash my head open on the tile steps.
4. It's about the size of two airplane bathrooms, not exactly enough space for calisthenics.
5. I don't do jumping jacks.

Not a cub ... not yet a panda

Since the age of 17, I've felt ... well, like a 17-year-old. Vaguely like an adult but with one foot stuck firmly in childhood. Even more than a decade later, I still feel like I have a lot of growing up to do - a feeling supported by how I spend my time. I watch "Laguna Beach" and "The Hills." Hilary Duff often blares from my iPod speakers. I giggle a lot.

Well, last night Kitten and I went to see The Klaxons perform at the Great American Music Hall and I was painfully reminded that I am not 17. Hell, I'm not even 25. I am an old panda who probably should have been hibernating at home instead of eagerly showing my hand stamp to bartenders so that I could order another Stella ... ella ... ella ... eh ... eh ... eh ...

Anyway, I'm old, but the show was funzo!

Here's the hott video for "Golden Skans"

ME! ME! ME!

This morning, inspired by my good friend Gleemonex, whose blog I read religiously, I decided to become a participant in the blogosphere. I'd resisted this temptation for a while now, thinking to myself, Who are these bloggers? How self-important, how narcissistic, how arrogant they are to think that their lives are of interest to other people. I certainly don't need to advertise my adventures and the minutiae of my tedious life.

But today I decided to stake claim to my own little corner of the internets, mostly so I have something to look back upon when my mind grows that much more feeble and more of my memory cells are decimated by the drink. So, this little bloggie is for moi, but I welcome others to peer into my insanity and post their thoughts as well...

I've taken the moniker "Panda!!!!" as a nod to my heritage ... and "Chiieew!" is how I suppose you spell the sound that baby pandas make when they sneeze. Welcome to my ramblings. Judge all you want - you know I do...

I'm too cute!

I'm a blogger!

Friends and family, beware...