I should be packing, but I’ll pretty much do anything other than pack. In fact, I haven’t even decided whether I’m a pack the night before a flight or the morning of a flight kind of person. I should probably set aside a chunk of time to decide. In the meantime, here’s the Evan Handler story. Click on the page images to enlarge.
I haven’t seen it yet but my profile of Evan Handler ran in yesterday’s Page Six Magazine. If you have access to the issue, please read it and let me know what I said. Just kidding, I remember what I said. Anyway, Evan Handler played/plays Harry, Charlotte’s husband, in Sex and the City, lest you are like, “wait, why do I know that name?” And here’s a tidbit/ factoid that didn’t make it into the story (because I didn’t put it in there) : When we went to take our seats at Hugo’s I asked him where he wanted to sit and he chose a seat in front of a bookshelf that had geodes displayed in it. “Ah, you’re keeping your back to the geodes! Very smart,” I said, because sometimes I say things like that. “What?” he asked. I repeated. “Oh! I thought you said I was keeping my back to the jew,” he explained. “Nope. Geodes, geodes,” I said like someone with geological tourettes. They were magnificent geodes, by the way. Sparkly and devout.
I was looking at this photo of Barbara Walters this morning thinking the flower thing on her lapel looks awfully familiar. Then I realized where I’ve seen it. On my computer! It looks just like the puff of smoke icon on a Mac which shows up when you remove an icon from the dock.
Okay, that wasn’t even funny. It’s like I’m not even trying!
I've decided to take my life in my hamds and blog from the elliptical machine. Not only is it probably inteerfering with my workoit but its also intefering with my ability to type om this small keypad. This sentence took m$e thiryt miniutes. Not realluy. Okay, I give up. Score one for the startrac. I hate you vile machine.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry
So I go to get ice the other day and I can’t help but notice this strange little ice protuberance extending straight up from one of the ice cubes. It defies physics, or my I-didn’t-actually-take-physics-I-took-chemistry sense of physics. Speaking of taking chemistry though, or just math in general, last night someone joked that they “changed pi” and I actually said “they did?!?!” A hearty laugh was had at my expense and I didn’t have the energy to explain that of course I didn’t really think pi had changed, I just thought maybe some sort of official decision was made about where to cut pi off. That doesn’t really make sense though. But then Avogadro’s number came up and an old college friend whom I hadn’t seen in awhile said that it was 6.02 times ten to the negative twenty fourth and I said that actually it was negative twenty third. None of us went home and had sex that night. Incidentally, I used to fight all trappings of nerdiness when I was younger and yet as an adult I enjoy brief bouts of nerdistry. But while we all remembered once knowing about Avogadro’s number, none of us really remembered what a mole was exactly.
But back to the ice. Isn’t it weird?
I turned the horny cube on its side to try to better capture it. It didn’t work so well but you can sort of make it out.
First we were hanging out in my parents’ room in the house I grew up in but I worried we’d be bothering my parents so I suggested we go to my room. On the way there I passed my mom and said, “Just hanging out with my presidential friend.” Later Obama asked me for money and then took out a little notepad with tons of scribbling on it. I asked what the money was for and he said it was for Christmas—apparently he had to buy gifts. I said I was surprised, I expected he would say he needed it for the campaign. Then we laughed.
Completely unrelated, doesn’t “The Preakness” sound like some kind of disease?
Earlier we* were making preparations for an upcoming TV thing and I was asked if I’m going to show up to the taping camera ready or if I’ll need hair and makeup. I said that I was born camera ready but that I would need hair and makeup.
Then I saw the call sheet and it said “Full Hair/Makeup” so I think I will take advantage of this opportunity to request a perm and also that they make me look like a cat.
*By the way, I’m not lapsing into the royal we. There was actually another human being involved in this. His name is Ned and he’s invisible. He lives a pencil box on my desk and comes out when I am lonely, scared, or need a pencil.
If you don’t even have a pot to piss in then couldn’t you just use a restroom?
And let’s say all you have is a pot to piss in, wouldn’t it be better to still use the bathroom and save this pot for other things like making soup out of tin cans and newspapers, provided you could find those?
Unless “pot” in this case means toilet, like you don’t even have a toilet to piss in, in which case I would suggest using a Le Creuset 2 3/4 qt. soup pot. They come in an array of colors and according to the web site, “each pot is shaped to promote the natural circulation of the ingredients while simmering, so soups and stews cook evenly.” Imagine what it would do for your urine.
Also, you could toss your hay-pennies into this pot.
Dear Rain,
You are standing in the way of my going to the gym this morning. I suppose it’s not really your fault, you didn’t ask to be squeezed out of those clouds like so much liquid cloud snot, however I am angry at you because you are just doing your thing with no thought to how it might affect other people. In general, I find you to be selfish. And don’t give me that old song and dance about rainbows because frankly, I don’t care anymore. I’ve seen enough rainbows to last a lifetime. I’ve seen them in cheap kaleidoscopes, I’ve seen them shimmering on the edges of rotten meat, I’ve seen them on 3-2-1 Contact and I’ve memorized Roy G Biv.
Incidentally, have I lost you all with the rotten meat and the Roy G Biv? Because there was this show that I used to write jokes for and I recall writing a rotten meat/rainbow one and the person reading had never seen a rotten meat rainbow. He only ate fresh filet mignon. I’m making that up.
But back to you, rain. Oh, are you falling even harder now? That’s real nice. I hope you evaporate and die.
love,
Alison
that I’m already a fan of the Denise Richards reality show. Memorial Day Weekend can’t come soon enough! Unless maybe I’m just a fan of the commercials? I just hope the show lives up to the commercials because they’ve set the bar ridiculously high/low.
Speaking of commercials, am I the only one who thinks the chemistry.com commercials are kind of ruthless? The ones where they show a passive-aggressive couple making promises to each other, promises like “I promise not to tell anyone that you pluck the hair in between your eyebrows,” “I promise not to tell anyone that your family is insane,” “I promise not to tell anyone that you wet the bed on a regular basis,” “I promise not to tell anyone about your DUI’s,” “I promise not to tell anyone that it took you three tries to pass the bar and by that point not even your close friends thought you would pass it,” “I promise not to tell anyone that you have a speech impediment and also, you’re tone deaf.” “I promise not to tell anyone that the way you sneeze bugs me,” etc. Maybe I’m just too sensitive? On behalf of strangers?