|
yes ma'am, they sure are 2002-02-13 Number One: Moulin Rouge got a nomination?! Moulin Rouge?! I am incredulous. I loathed that movie; I was Thrilled when Nicole Kidman's character died. If that movie wins best picture, then there is something very wrong in the world. Or something that is More wrong than the scads of things already wrong in the world. Something like that. Yeah. Number Two: I am so envious of Partyjesus. He has a new belt buckle, which, if I understand correctly, is a real [dead] scorpion, encased in resin. Where can I find one? Yes, I would be shamelessly copying him, but he lives in Chicago and would not need to be notified. This morning when I got up to go to the gym, Francisco got up too. I assumed he was going to use our treadmill, and didn't pay much attention to him when I was getting ready to go. When I was almost ready, I heard him open the front door. I saw that he was dressed to go out of the house and asked him where he was going. He said, "To the gym with you. I re-joined. Surprise!" That made me very happy. It's not like we socialize together when we're at the gym, but it makes going to the gym better in almost every way. I did my upper-body weightlifting, and he did�whatever he did. The Testosteronies were plentiful, again, and Francisco was surprised to see how many more people were at the gym since the last time he'd been there. It gave me the opportunity to say the words, the golden words, "I Told you! Didn't I tell you?!" Ah� In a few minutes I will be departing work, and I'm going to go to a leather repair place on my way home, to try and get Francisco's briefcase repaired. One of the handles is broken and really both handles need replacing. This is an academic-style briefcase--it is wide and opens at the top. It does not open all the way like ransom-money briefcases. I gave it to him for his birthday about 6 or 7 years ago, I guess. He loves that briefcase. A few days after we bought it, one of the cats barfed on it, thus marking it for life. Poor Francisco, he was very depressed that day. He got over it. I get a lot of calls at work that are wrong numbers. Most of the time people are calling a doctor's office, which must be just one digit off from my phone number, but earlier today I had a woman call who sweetly asked me if her contact lenses were ready. I told her she must have the wrong number, and she then sweetly asked me what the correct number is. Um. I sweetly told her I didn't know, and she hung up. But I'm a terrible person because when she first called I briefly entertained the idea of telling her the contact lenses were ready and she could pick them up at any time. That's all I have to say today, and if you loved Moulin Rouge and think I'm a cretin for hating it, don't bother to email me about it, because you will never change my mind. Just gripe to others about my perceived lack of taste and throw stones at my diary page on your monitor. No, not like that. You throw like a girl. Put your whole body into it. Good! That's much better--I think you're getting the hang of it. Love, E
come over some time & see me - 2011-02-25 |
design by simplify
