April 5, 2007 at 12:51 pm (Birmingham, Drop Everything And Read, Eat your veggies, Hooray for Hollywood, Raunchy Thursdays, family matters, oh so meta)
I spent the night at Birmingham’s in the Middle of Nowhere Town and decided not to stop at home on the way to work to feed the cat because the drive took me longer than I planned. I felt bad about that until I read another story about the poisoned animals all over the country, and now I think that starving the cat is actually an act of kindness.
I had a wonderful day yesterday playing hooky and going to the mall in Paramus with my mother. We stopped to have lunch at the California Pizza Kitchen around 2:00 and the place was packed. Who are these people that don’t have anywhere better to be in the middle of the afternoon? I want the kind of life where I can just hang around the mall, but I have a sneaking suspicion I may have to get pregnant to do it, since the normal person to little person ratio was 3:1 in the place.
I’m listening to “The Road” on CD in the car now (I reserved it at the library weeks before Oprah told us to.) It was a good choice, because when listening to a story about people who are so hungry they eat ash-covered snow and hunt dogs, you don’t mind so much that the assholes at Dunkin Donuts drive-thru in the Middle of Nowhere Town didn’t toast your bagel or even bother to defrost the fake egg and cheese substance filling the bagel or pause to put a package of ketchup or pepper in the bag.
One sign that spring is coming? Daffodils poking out of the ground. Another sign? Birmingham’s nose is spattered with a fresh coating of freckles.
One sign that spring still needs some work? My car was covered with a thin sheen of snow this morning.
You know that chocolate Jesus statue that made such a stir? Originally, it was going to show at the Roger Smith hotel, and I shot a movie there once. It was actually the film where Birmingham and I met, and it will never see the light of day because it was so bad. We shot at the hotel on August 14, the day of the blackout. The owners of the hotel blamed us for blowing the power until they realized that plugging in a steamer could not have caused an outtage across the entire Northeast.
I’m a vegetarian, and somehow that makes Birmingham think it’s okay to go around telling people that it makes him a vagiterian. Although no one appreciates clever uses of the English language as much as my literary parents, I sincerly hope that he doesn’t bring that up when we all go out for Easter Dinner this weekend.
4 Comments
