I know what you’re wondering: is this blog just going to be crap from now on? And the answer is: probably.
Let’s talk about about people who stop to talk to other people at the bottom of staircases and escalators, shall we? I want to kick them in their backs. They are interrupting the flow of humanity through public spaces. Can something be done? Something that doesn’t involve kicking? (My hamstrings are tight.) Please inform.
My sister has big things happening. I was happily assuming that the second novel of her two-book deal would be based on my life, but when I brought it up the other day she changed the topic almost immediately. Am I going to have to write my own damn memoir? Again, please inform.
I have watched this video 7645 times. My god, it’s exquisite.
Public service announcement: Isotoners are not ballet slippers. Your kid’s ballet teacher will not fall for it, so quit trying.
Many years ago, when visiting Boston, a travel-mate told me he wanted to see the USS Constitution. I heard: let’s go see the US Constitution. I had always assumed the Constitution lived in Washington, so I was confused, but also easily distracted by the promise of doughnuts on our outing. I had no interest in seeing the document (just as I have no interest in forts or ancient coins), but sometimes traveling with other people means compromise. As we wandered the city, I figured I should muster some fake excitement for the main event – you know, to make it seem like I really wanted to be there. I even pre-planned some enthusiastic remarks like, “Hey, that paper is super yellow!” And, “That sure is some old-timey writin’!” But it turned out we were going to see a big old boat – not the written, supreme law of the United States of America. I have no point here really. I just remembered this the other day, and here we are. I didn’t even get to utilize my supreme acting skills.
Every once and a while, 2.0 prepares dinner for me. One evening I returned from work to find a pot of beans and wieners on the stove.
movita: Thanks for making dinner! I haven’t had this in forever. So good!
2.0: You’re welcome. (pausing) Listen, don’t tell your parents, okay?
movita: Tell them what?
2.0: That we’re eating beans and wieners.
movita: Huh? Why?
2.0: Because beans and wieners are what poor people eat. They’ll think we’re poor.
movita: No they won’t! We ate them all the time when we were kids. Wait… was I poor?
2.0: Looks like it.
movita: That would explain the dog biscuits…