Yes, indeedie! I went to the Bahamas for 4 days with my beau. It was actually Chad's idea. And he took care of most of the planning. When I told a girlfriend of mine how much he was involved in this process she said, "Stop talking, you're making me wet." Guys who plan make girls horny. It's a fact.

We had a minor drama the night before we left when we discovered I would need my passport to get into the country. And I could not find it to save my life. And I need to mention that this is all going down at about 2 AM. We had to leave for the airport at 6 AM. Yes, that IS 4 hours! So I went a-looking. And then Chad went a-looking. I was pretty certain that we wouldn't find it. I imagined having to tell all our friends that we didn't go because I'm a sham of a human and my life is a mess. And to make it worse I'm sure Chad wouldn't have gotten mad at me. He would have done something nice like made his apartment into a fake beach or something. Something wonderful that would have made me feel even worse about being a complete dodo. Chad was positive we would find it. He kept saying, "It has to be here! No one just throws away a passport." I didn't respond. I was thinking, "You don't know me very well. I am indeed the type of person to throw a passport away." But alas, Chad found it! At 4:15 AM. Exactly where I thought it was - in a blue stationery box. Only it was under 5 other boxes and tax returns from the 90s and a few wig catalogs. We caught a sweet 1 hour of sleep and then Bahamas! Yay!

The Bahamas was fun and beautiful. The people were insanely nice. The food was wonderful and fresh. And not super expensive. We are a lot conch, a local shellfish. Our cab driver told us we were nation building. Of course we had no idea what he was talking about. Apparently, conch is thought to help in fertility. So Chad and I laughed uncomfortably and prayed the conch we ate was a super dud. I guess I'm lucky I'm a virgin.

Chad has this bad habit of sort of injuring me accidentally. I still have a bruise on my leg from an injury I incurred in June! Chad was carrying my offstage and ran me right into a table. I literally couldn't breathe for about 5 minutes. On this trip I was injured a few times. I would say the most boneheaded (on Chad's part not mine) was when we were playing tennis and I went to get a ball and Chad decided to practice his serve (accidentally) at the back of my head. Yes, it hurt. But it also scared the holy shit out of me. And when I get scared I am a real high class bitch. I am mean and nasty as hell. As Chad was thrilled to learn. I know I am selling this character flaw of Chad's out hardcore but after the passport story he comes off as a saint. And I need to even things out a little.

On our first night we saw a Junkanoo Parade with little kids. It was pretty adorable and cool. A little kid standing next to us was adorable at first, chatting and playing with us. Then he quickly turned evil when he threatened to "take me down." Chad dubbed him the Bahamian Troy. The parade was adorable. A ton of little kids dressed in native costumes, dancing it up. They have a 'can't beat 'em, join 'em' attitude towards hurricanes down there. So there were several groups dressed up as hurricanes. The storm not the drink.

We also took a day to rent a motor scooter, which was a true treat. I suggested we wear helmets, even though we looked like dorks. And Chad agreed. Altho he told me later that I looked like a retard adventurer. As we were driving through town I spotted another couple on a motor scooter without helmets. Just as I was referring to them as danger junkies, they flipped over the front of their scooter. They were fine, thank goodness. But it was creepy. I didn't know I was a freelance witch. I wish I had some of those powers at the blackjack table.

Here are some highlights and lowlights from the trip!

HIGHLIGHTS

• Motor scooter
• Nighttime rides on the motor scooter
• Rum drinks made with fresh fruit right in front of us.
• 8 conch fritters for $2
• Drinking on our balcony
• Junkanoo festival
• Kalik beer
• Old man who gave us $20
• Cheap ciggies!
• Bahamian Troy

LOWLIGHTS

• Passport debacle. Eeeek.
• Losing a LOT of $ gambling. It is really addictive. I thought it was so rude we didn't win.
• Children horsing around in the hot tub while their low class parents counted their tattoos. Come on! It is a hot tub and for adults ONLY. Don't children have enough fun? Why do they need to go to the Bahamas?
• The airplane pilot going back to New York thought he was really cute. He kept saying, "Are you SURE you want to go back to NYC? It's 12 degrees outside!" I wanted to slap him. Of COURSE no one wanted to go home. But we had to - the JACK ASS!
• Losing to Chad at gin rummy. Chad is annoyingly good at everything.
• Chad injuring me.
• Bahamian Troy

I relish seeing fat Denise waddle behind the rows of copiers so she can ask Jesse if the email server is still down. (It was!) I loved it when Nancy told me, "I don't know what you're talking about...our couriers only go to Manhattan!" (I didn't know what I was talking about!) And I glowed with holiday cheer when a bespeckled Asian man told me, "Oh you ordered it online. Ut oh." (Ut-oh indeed!) Merry Christmas Fed-Ex Kinkos. And thank you for being a calm of retardation in this crazy hectic world.

Let me tell you something about first class. The people will have a revolution and it will begin in first class. I felt horrible about being in first class - until I started to really enjoy it. And by enjoy it I mean drinking the free wine.

The flight attendants treat everyone in first class as if they are mildly retarded. You just get a little more attention than you actually need. I had my coat on my chair and the male attendant said in a such a loud and clear voice I wondered if he thought I was non-English speaking, "I'll hang that up for you." And then he whisked it away. A month ago I flew Delta coach to Los Angeles and the screen on my window was broken and the sun was blazingly bright. When I told the attendant, she grabbed a blanket to throw over it. She didn't even break off a piece of tape to help hang it. I could have been bleeding from the eyes and this woman wouldn't have cared at all.

But over in first class, Brian DUMPS a glass of red wine on the floor. Dumps it. And the stewardess is 100% fine with it. His punishment is she flirts with him a little. Brian really talked a big game in Chicago. He said he was going to refer to the flight attendants only as 'nurse.' But he didn't! What a wuss!

The funny thing about first class - they can tell when you are a visitor and not a regular member of the elite. Even though Brian and I were treated well, it felt a little like when you are a kid and you SAY you are invisible and all the adults begrudgingly say, "yeah yeah yeah - you're invisible." They were like, sure you're in first class but you're not first class.

Seeing Troy was a delight. That kid is soooooo keyed up when I see him it defies reality. He woke me up on Thursday morning by screaming, "You're missing the best day ever." Then taking a flying leap at me pee filled bladder. Unlike other times mentioned in this journal, I was able to avoid peeing my pants. Truly something to give thanks for.

Troy is a full boat riot. We were all drinking and telling stories when he whispered to me, "Auntie, tell that story that I love. " I had no idea what he meant. "You know, the one about your mother." Still no clue. "You know, about how she died."

Thanksgiving. Clarke style.

"You'd be gorgeous if you had a big fat ass and some titties."

I stayed with my lovely and gorgeous pal Susan. She's a dream. Girls are wildly different than boys. For example, we sleep in the same bed when we visit.. And there is no weird discussion of whether we have to do head to foot or some homophobic (borderline homoerotic) nonsense like that. Girls are also way ok with touching each other in a non-sexual yet 100% sexual way. Like Susan is obsessed with my boobs. She had me staying in her bed so she felt it was her right to play with me boobs.. And it is. Like minor whore rent. Boob fondling is a good way to remain youthful and vibrant. And a Democrat way longer than one should. I would be typing an email out on my laptop and I would have to chastise Susan for playing with my boob too much.

I can't decide if I absolutely hate LA or if it is just OK. I enjoy the people and the weather can't be beat. The apartments are big and airy and bursting with light. And I adored writing outside in a coffee shop smoking ciggies. That was a teeny slice of perfect. But LA just doesn't feel like anything. I don't get a sense that the city has a personality. I think every tattooed waitress and chubby Asian indie-rock nerd is a step in the right direction. LA feels like New York, if you totally flattened it with a rolling pin and took out a lot of the interesting parts.

The driving is a living purgatory. Not only is everything so fucking far away complete gridlock greets you at every turn. And people aren't really carpoolers in LA. Just a lot of single people in cars. I saw more than one bus with fewer than 5 people in it. At one point in my trip, I was totally turned around and my friend, Peter called from NYC to offer my a ticket to Dolly Parton's show. I obviously had to politely decline but at that moment - stuck in traffic, totally late and annoyed I screamed into the phone, "This place is so uncivilized." And that says a lot. I'm a girl who pees her pants.

It is also hard to escape showbiz in LA. Which sounds like a lame complaint from someone who's middle name is showbiz. But it is annoying. In my 4 days, I encountered a waiter who had opened up for Andrew Dice Clay in Vegas and a waitress who actually strung the following series of words together -

"I'm still working on my childrens' album. An elementary school in Ohio is going to sing one of my songs at a Christmas pageant. It's called "The Snowman and the Ice" - Oh! I's funny. It's really funny. Really funny.

There are not a lot of absolutes in life. One is "The Snowman and the Ice" is not funny.

The food in LA is fun. I love love love In and Out Burger. I tried to eat there every day to little success. I ate there once. But I did discover TACO BELL! I know TACO BELL is a chain readily available nationally. But I have to tell you. It is fucking delicious. It's so cheesy and greasy and tastes so much like food I almost believe it is food! I used to say that if I were homeless I would eat a lot of egg and cheese sandwiches but now I think I would eat a lot of TACO BELL. I can't imagine a better value for your money. Man, I am getting all excited thinking about it again. And I can't even come close to getting it right now because I am on a goddamn plane! Unless they opened a store on a cloud. That would be dreamy. It is pretty clear I took a Benedryl and I am losing steam and energy.

Oh! I forgot. I was there doing a show and Ali G came to the show. And we made out.* He was very gracious and said he enjoyed the show. Whoa! He has great taste in shows.

Mildly related rants or observations:

• "I Robot" is playing on the TV screens (I'm typing on my flight back.) This movie looks shittier than a diarrhea factory. I don't have sound 'cause I am I-rocking it out. Will Smith acting across bad animation. Hey! That's Tom Brady's girlfriend! I hope clothes don't look like that in the future. I get drowned out in metallics.
• Delta is disgusting. They must use their planes as a homeless shelter, because it sure smells like one in here. PU and yuck. AND I had to pay for my own damned food. It was full-on ghetto.
• I sat next to a Catholic priest on the way to LA. Something about seeing a priest makes.me feel like I did something wrong. Also when I drive at night and I see a cop I immediately feel like I should be arrested. I have no idea why.
• I saw Nelly in LA. He is short. But hot.
• Please go see this movie Tarnation. Then you can email me about it. It's beautiful and sad and it was all made for less than a Marc Jacobs denim skirt. It is divine, if you have a fondness for the depressing and gay as I do.

Nephew: Troy asked me, does auntie have a new boyfriend?
Nephew: and i said yeah
Nephew: he said well i have to talk to her about this
MissFlyKitten: HE DID?
MissFlyKitten: ha ha ha ha
Nephew: yes he really did
Nephew: i found that to be SUPER funny
MissFlyKitten: Um yeah!
Nephew: he said you better not bring him home
MissFlyKitten: Why cant I bring him home?
Nephew: well just as good
Nephew: BECAUSE
Nephew: because he doesn't want you to
MissFlyKitten: Ask WHY
Nephew: where are you gonna sleep?
MissFlyKitten: tell him he can stay outside
Nephew: HOW DARE YOU
Nephew: screaming....
Nephew: you are so mean auntie
MissFlyKitten: TELL HIM I AM TEASING!
MissFlyKitten: WHY DID U TELL HIM THAT
MissFlyKitten: i was kidding

He was very upset with me. So I had to call him and tell him I peed in my pants.

My Dad likes to have lunch at an old folks recreation center. The food is good and it is only $3 per plate. So my Dad wins twice: he is the youngest person there and he only spends $3 to eat and feel like a hero. The waitress told my Dad I was pretty and she asked if I was married, and my Dad said I was single. "Ahhh...pretty and smart."

They had a Halloween event which meant that 1 out of every 6 old people was in a costume. Someone dressed as the grim reaper. None of the old people were offended though, maybe they thought it was better to get to know a friendly grim reaper.

We sat with an old man named Warren who told me about how is daughter lives in China. He could never go there because he doesn't understand the people. Apparently, they drink heat water and add Tang to it. And that is breakfast. "No wonder their eyes are slanted," said Warren.

What was most interesting about that statement is that I was sitting with my father, his Filipino wife and their 2 kids.

I was waiting in line for a beer and a guy struck up a conversation with me. He was mid-40s, a normal professional guy. He probably had a job as a Marketing Manager for the Outback Steakhouse corporate offices. Something hard to explain and ripe with Happy Hours. He told me that boxing and wrestling were boring. He only watched NASCAR and UFC because "people can die." I'm sure he loves watching the Iraq war. He leaned in real close and said, "Not to get political, but some pussy-assed liberals have tried to ban Ultimate Fighting." I love that politics involves the words 'pussy, ass and ultimate fighting' for this Jersey Joe.

The fight wasn't as violent as I thought it would be. I thought someone's face might snap off. In a way I was dissappointed. I did enjoy heckling the fighters. I managed to silence a whole section when I yelled, "I've had GYN exams more interesting than this." Not an easy thing to do - shut up a gaggle of UFC fans. And they were earnest as hell - one fellow yelled, "Pin him with extreme dominance." So cute, in a horrible way.

After the fights we went to a casino. A place where drivers ed teachers go to die. I'm not anti-gambling. I'm anti-gambling when people aren't forced to dress up in Native American garb and serve Jack and cokes. Casinos are depressing as hell. Everyone looks dead. And it is even worse when you are tripping on drugs. Which we were.

I always thought that taking hallucinating drugs would expose some part of my inner soul. Apparently my soul had an affinity for Southwestern colors done neon style. I was like, what the fuck? My essence is bright pinks, oranges and blues sparkling in my mind. My best trip is when I saw a waterfall of colors that turned into Chinese characters which then turned into ghost faces. Other people I was with were discovering truths about the universe. I was having a Dance Fever party in my mind.

I bought a Red Sox hat to show my support. Now, I live in NYC. And at the beginning of the series people would joke with me about the hat. By the end of the series people - including friends - were yelling at me and refusing to sell me things like pizza. Which I love. I had to watch the final game in my apartment because I fear Yankees fans. Altho Red Sox fans are much more insane. They make some of the most politically incorrect t-shirts on the planet including "Gay-Rod" and, if you can believe it, "Jeter has AIDS." Boston is a city with class. Boston also looted and burned cars when the Sox won... I guess they aren't used to winning. They seek to destroy regardless.

I like to think that Boston is the kind of city that beats its women no matter whether they win or lose.

Come on, Sox! Get it together. Stop this damn ass sucking!

I am sure he is a nice guy - but I don't think Derek Jeter is that hot. I don't! He looks like he would be boring in bed.

So a couple of weeks ago my sister, her boyfriend and my 6 year-old nephew took a trip to Disneyworld in Orlando, Florida. We were between hurricanes, so we didn't have to worry about palm trees or signs for Disney falling on us.

Orlando is maybe the fattest place in the world. People there are addicted to buffets and all you can eat joints. In 4 days there we ate 3 different all you can eat places. And the only reason we didn't make it 4 nights in a row is my nephew fell asleep before we made it to the restaurant so we had to go back to the hotel and order in. I am GREAT when I am offered unlimited food. The night of the crab legs I was a minor rock star. I went up 4 times. I probably ate no less than 20 crab legs. My sister was horrified. But I was to be outdone. There was a middle aged man - beefy but not a true-blue porker - who arrived before us and stayed after we had left. He went up to the bar no less than 7 times while I was there. I wanted to give him a hug. He was the true hero because he's the type of guy that will make an establishment rethink the whole "all-you-can-eat" thing. It's hard to get braver than that.

I will admit. I am sort of obsessed with how obese America is. I mean people really just can't stop eating. I think I'm so obsessed with it because I eat like a fat person. But I'm not fat. I am not bragging and I know I don't deserve such a gift. To be able to gorge myself on a regular basis and still remain pretty slender. But I am. You are going to have to deal with that. Besides I have other problems in my life, I am super duper broke and I have a stepmother who is crazier than a donkey punch and the only woman on the planet I willingly call a 'cunt.'

Waitresses in Orlando are a delightful oddity. You need to give up on a lot of life to decide, "Yes, I will live in Orlando and I will be an Orlando waitress." It's the equivalent of porn for people with bridge work and constant bunions.

But what about Disney you say? Ahhh....that is coming soon. But as a little preview I will let you know my nephew shit his pants 3 times...at Epcot.

I was taking, what I thought was a great picture of MSG security underneath the cloudy lights of the Empire State Building when I was swarmed by police. Apparently I was photographing an entrance/exit point of the convention and that is a big terrorist no-no. I'm sure most terrorists have a pig-tails, a pink I-Pod and listen to Neutral Milk Hotel, so I was clearly suspect. The low level cops were kind of embarrassed and gave me these looks that seemed to imply "You seem nice and un-terrorist-like, maybe we could have a coffee." And I gave back a look that said, "Are you fucking kidding me? And no thanks on the coffee." The low-levels (as I now like to call them) called over the big cheese. He was strait out of Central Casting, with a Great Santini haircut and a face that has never been broken by a smile or laughter. And he made me go through all of my pictures on my camera and I had to delete all the ones I had taken that night. I also had a bunch of pictures of the Del Close Marathon (at UCB!) taken at approximately 4 am. So all the pictures were of drunk guys wasted with weed and wrestling or me in an Uncle Sam hat and a Kimono. And he looked through all of those too. What a pineapple. The highlight of the exchanged was when he said, "If you take more pictures we will confiscate your camera, miss." He called me 'miss' instead of 'ma'am.' Yes, he thought I was young enough to be a 'miss!'

So I couldn't post a picture of a group of Republicans that had t-shirts on that said "CRAP" - Citizens Really Against Protesters. Protesting protestors. The irony leaves me sleepy.

Then I was privy to a political debate between a mid-30s male delegate in full on khaki and a 18 year-old filthy punk rock girl. The debate was as follows:

GIRL: Fuck you
GUY: Fuck you, you don't even work.
GIRL: I'm smart so I don't work. You're stupid so you work.
GUY: I hope you go to school some day.
GIRL: I hope you graduate 3rd grade. Why are you walking away, you pussy?
GUY: You're a pussy.
GIRL: You fucking pussy. What a fucking pussy. PUSSY! Fucking pussy.

The feminist movement is alive and well in NYC.

The taunt of 'pussy' was still ringing in my ears when I watched a guy almost get mowed down by a Mac truck. He paused long enough to tell me, "You're one bad-mama-jama." Apparently I was in a Gordon Parks movie and no one told me.

But I am exhausted. And I hope that counts.

Marched in the protest today. I managed to sweat more than any female of Irish descent should be allowed to. The only Irish that sweat that much are usually named Kennedy. There were the usual chants, but I took particular glee is yelling, "Fox News Sucks" and "Shame on you."

It was truly hot as fuck and it took us 1.5 hours to march from 26th Street to 34th Street. Someone also set a cart on fire OR the cart caught on fire (conflicting reports) in the middle of thousands of people. Did nothing to curb the heat or the general "Do the Right Thing" feeling that we all could die if one asshole was amongst us. But the NY Fire Department got a nice round of applause for putting it out. I was secretly applauding their sex scandal.

I loved loved loved the signs people made for the rally. My absolute favorite (which I might have to put in a t-shirt) was "Bush is a shithead." So concise and direct. I also loved the desperation and sincerity behind "WORST PRESIDENT EVER!!!" My brother had a sign that read "I want my country back...please." Which is very my brother. He is mad as hell and would vote for handful of vomit over Bush. But he always adds the please. 'Cause he's classy! A handful of people had Nader signs and I wanted to slap them out of their hands. Voting for Nader would be like peeing on a delicious cake. Just about the stupidest thing you could do.

The best part of the rally is all these thousands of people are there united in a common ideology. It was truly amazing and inspiring. But even in a group of thousands of well-meaning people - we all had an unspoken understanding: all of the hippies were really annoying. But without hippies we wouldn't have had the rally. So life truly is as complex as an everything bagel.

PS The upcoming Christmas movie, "The Polar Express" looks like someone animated a turd and gave it the voice of Tom Hanks.

PPS Bob Costas's Olympic coverage is dignified and hot. I love that shortie smartie.

Below is a picture of my sock monkey. He likes to jerk off. He is also a rapist. This is a picture of him molesting me from behind. He is such a nasty sock monkey.

If you are a stalker - good for you! I have just made your life a lot easier. This site has photos, shows I am in, an email address, and my thoughts. So to all stalkers and potential stalkers:

YOU ARE WELCOME.

Oh yes, and all entries on this journal from now on will be when I am butt ass wasted and listening to Usher or Maroon 5.