DISPATCH FROM THE DINGHY

Next stop on this dinghy of life?  AMERICAN IDOL SEASON NINE AUDITIONS THURSDAY JUNE 18th IN HOTLANTA, GA.  I KNEW I moved here for a reason.

dinghy over'n'out.

amy  

Dinghleberry

I got in a fight with B this morning which is still "To Be Continued." He is playing a game of entrapment and I just don't want to follow his rules. I thought to myself, "I wish Amy was here to mediate" but then I realized she has long-since boarded the dinghy of life. If only she were here, we could settle this once and for all. She would be fair and equitable and would have strong conviction that Branden should release me from his exploitation and return my "30 Rock" and "ANTM: Cycle 1" DVDS.

The fight made me think about my life and whether the dinky was the right choice. Perhaps I should have joined Amy through that long canal. Maybe things would be better for everyone that way.

Another thing that disturbed me was the fact that Natalie did not make the cut on "So You Think You Can Dance." She wasn't even asked to dance for her life. I thought again about Amy and how she transformed from God's girl to a true Patron Saint of acceptable promiscuity and divine movement. I hope the dinghy realizes how lucky it is.

As for you B, I'll see you in court. Dinky court. Where the conductor is regal and sophisticated and immune to your trickery.

Ding Ding goes the Dinghy

So, I made it.  I actually took a plane, not a dinghy--sorry to disappoint, but you know, one day ONE day, I'll take that voyage the right way. 

But, yes, I made it, despite being bitched out by the curbside check-in representative for my 81lb bag, which, by the way, I named "big papa" as an homage to my fave Real Housewife of Atlanta.  Sneering, he told me that instead of charging me 14 billion dollars for it being too heavy AND too big, he would only charge me for the heavy portion, a modest 7 billion dollar fee--on the condition, of course, that "I never, ever, EVER travel with that bag again." 

Then just when I thought I had survived, dbag mc-check-in bitched me out AGAIN, when not knowing the protocol, I failed to tip him (WHEN WAS I SUPPOSED TO LEARN THESE RULES?).  "I just saved you 7 billion dollars, ma'am, and you're just gonna walk away?"  Six dollars later, I was on my way.  And to think this all could have been avoided had I opted for the damn dinghy.

Everything was okay, though, when having landed in Atl and loaded up "big papa" into big mama's (she's actually quite trim) car, we stopped at a gas station where everyone in view was barefoot.  For some reason, that got me pumped about this next chapter.

Dinghy dong, I'm home.

Amy

Dispatch from the Dinky

Amy is gone--well, okay, she's not actually in Athens yet, I think--but already my life doesn't feel the same. I can't drink coffee anymore, because Amy's gone. (Not that Amy actually drank a lot of coffee or anything, but you know, it's something different in my life.) Every time I hear music, it makes me sad because Amy is gone. Watching SYTYCD is that much harder and more poignant, because Amy is gone and you know what? Amy... Amy could dance. God, this dinky never felt so cold.