Please lord get me some cable.

Have I mentioned ever that we still have no cable at our house (we've only been here for three months) and that all we watch are old episodes of Sex and the City?

I have officially determined that I have watched too much S&tC. I was in the kitchen ruminating about my personal life and made a comment which doesn't bear repeating here in this semi-public forum and Eliz was like, "wow. You just made up a title for an episode of Sex and the City. I think you need to take a break from watching for a while." Indeed.

But you know what? I tried last weekend to get cable. I stayed home for 4 hours of my Sunday eating breakfast and explaining the former points of Entourage to my friend that was over (yes, we moved on to a new tv show), only to have the cable man come and inform me that we had to get a written letter from our building owner in order to install the cable as it would be a three hour process that would entail no less than:
--Installing a box on the telephone pole across the street from our house
--Installing a box on our house
--Dropping a line across the street and to our house
--Drilling holes into our house

Oh, and they would require one of those bucket truck deals to get the work done. Why does everything here have to be so hard? Would anyone else like to come babysit my house while I wait again for the cable man? I hate Comcast. I hate Comcast more than any entity in the whole wide world, including Kraft, and that is saying a lot, b/c they, for my company, are rather the enemy, no doubt.

So, in conclusion, and connecting two completely random and unrelated topics, I went to the Bat Mitzvah of a "cousin" (third cousin, 8 times removed or something of that nature) this weekend up in Marin county. I took Mikey B with me so that I could have someone to keep me entertained. Do you know what these kids do these day? They do the dance to Crank That by Soulja Boy. Do you know that dance? I didn't either, but now I've seen it twice: once performed in Marin by a whole lot of really white, well-off, Jewish kids, and once on the Number 6 by a bunch of 7 year old hoodlums disembarking at Western Addition. They were jumping around like little Mexican jumping beans. And before you accuse me of making an off-color racist remark, the kids were NOT Mexican! I just really like the term Mexican jumping beans. Remember when you could buy those at like grocery store counters and stuff? What a novelty! So anyway, I don't know which group was more entertaining. But that song is terrible! And yet...so addicting.

Ok then. I think I am going to retire.