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Because it’s been that kind of afternoon, and no one was expecting hail. Certainly not a lot of it.

Ready for some video? Okeedokee, kids:

Get more at NPR’s Exclusive First Listen, Under Great Northern Lights.

Beg for mercy:

Imagery, for funsies:

You’re welcome!

XO,

Skinny

CONFESSION: Spot the Maker’s! That wee bottle was critical in my speedy recovery from this miserable CRUD sickness I have only just now come out of (alive, praise Dolly), after 9 hellish days of being bedridden. God, I despise being sick. I despise being slowed down. Do y’all know how fast I go? FAST. It was unpretty, but we are moving forward. By now you may have heard that we (as in San Fran-fussy-cisco) had a whole hour of 300 MPH torrential downpour blues earlier today. Hayes Valley, the Van Ness Muni station, parts of the Mission flooded in some places up to three feet. There was some nonsense about a new pumping station, but come the bloody fuck on, people, if we can’t handle an hour of heavy rain then what on earth do we do when it rains steadily for days? CRY. DROWN. I would like to see how drowning rat hipsters handle that situation, I really do. Hm. Food for thought!

CURRENT OBSESSIONS:

• Reviewing fragrances and makeups here at FFAF again
• The perfect pair of brown (dark or mahogany) cowboy boots
• Making a delicious dish of scalloped potatoes from scratch
• Bourbon balls (you bitches know who you are)
• Horseback riding in some semi-regular capacity on the cheap
• Finishing a re-read of Ayn Rand’s Anthem, which started in the tub last night
• Trying to forgive myself for getting rid of a) an ashy purple velvet blazer and b) asymmetrical dresses, both from years ago, since they’re “back” – don’t you just fucking hate that?

DREAMY:

Scent: In keeping with today’s sartorial theme, I chose Heeley’s Cardinal for review. Look for notes of incense, cistus, grey amber, patchouli and vetiver. It does loom rather ominously both out of the decant and upon first application, and perhaps it’s because I’ve not spent much time in cathedrals thick with incense, but this is definitely less gothic and more…well, it’s sharp and like hearing the soprano-only section of what is obviously a richly tectured choral arrangement. It seems like folks enjoy this layered with other types of fragrances, but I’m having a little bit of difficulty imaging something that deserves to be punished by this. Sorry, Heeley! FAIL!

M simply says this smells “musty.”

Confession: I confess that I would like to share more self-defense tips with you. I am also very pleased to announce that I am taking the 3 hr. mini self-defense session next month. I can’t wait! Keep in mind these are techniques that are taught in the classes, but after my friend took the 3-day course, some of the good-to-know tips she shared that ANYONE can do without much training can be found below. Practice ‘em, cowgirls!

• ELBOW STRIKE: The assailant is behind your right shoulder. Reach forward with your right hand, then step back with your right foot, bringing your elbow up and striking the face or throat. Always keep your striking arm close  to your body, look at your target by turning your head only, as the strike follows through your whole body turns and you end up facing your assailant, ready for the next move. Practice on the left side also.
• EYE STRIKE: Keeping your thumb and fingers tightly together and your elbows in close to your body. The strike is quick and sharp, with the hands coming back immediately.
  
• HEEL PALM: (Stance) Feet shoulder width apart, dominant foot back, toes facing forward, knees bent, hands up, elbows in. Striking hand (dominant) stays in the center of your body and the strike comes straight from there, a quick upward movement to the assailant’s nose, coming back to ready position. Strike using the heel of the hand, fingers pulled back.
• KNEE TO GROIN: A classic. (M often wonders why women don’t knee men in the groin more often. Like, ALWAYS. She’s right. Motherfuckers deserve it, more often than not from what I hear from some of y’all, and God’s honest truth is I’d probably say that more if I were straight, so you can just take your goddamn man-hating dyke stereotypes and shove ‘em right up your ass!) Anyway, on to the knee-to-groin move: Striking leg back, hands up in protective position (elbows in, hands up, palms out). Using the top of the thigh, just a little above the knee to strike the testicles, bring the back leg up sharply and step through the target. You can also do this to the head of the assailant, with even greater stepping-through motion.

When: Saturday, Feb. 21st, 2009.

What: James Cured Jeans, black short-sleeved shirt and skull-and-crossbones scarf by H&M. Vintage leather gloves and fur coat, assorted studded leather belts and “ice” necklace-as-bracelet from local boutiques. Leather boots by Lamica. Keyhole pendant by Pennyroyal Silver.

Confession: Poor M is sick. It’s been a lazy gray day indoors, and we grazed on a mid afternoon spread of spicy hummus, pita bread, grapes, white cheddar popcorn and cava. Last night we stayed up late to watch The White Stripes on Conan, and woke up today only to venture out for a Trader Joe’s run and some coffee and pastries at Peaberry’s.

I was a little bit surprised at how bloody fragile Jack White was last night – why was he crying? It can’t possibly be due to the occasion. I wonder if it’s because it’s the first time he’s performed with Meg in one and a half years. I know they were paid to do it, but maybe he just didn’t know when they’d ever perform together again, or how it’d make him feel when they did. So emotional! (Some local gals might remember that lesbian party. I do!) Whatever. I have no idea and I’m probably thinking way too hard about it, but it was tendercome and it made me happy.

Here it is, in case you missed it (but be nice!):