Well it's something.
Fortunately I don't have any new tales of drunkenness with which to regale you. In fact, keeping busy has left me a very dull girl. No one wants to read about grading papers and getting the biannual smog check.
You may, however, be interested in learning that on Friday, on my way to The Hammer's Sundance Summer Shorts, I saw Paul Reiser standing in line to buy a movie ticket for Batman Returns in Westwood. He was staring at the floral print collapsible chair I was carrying. Then, just a few moments ago, some friends and I were having yogurt at The Big Chill in West LA when in walks Rhea Pearlman with her son. I think my friend sees her too and raise my eyebrows to exchange what I assume is a knowing, 'hey, there's Rhea Pearlman' look. She hadn't noticed. Not wanting to cheat my yogurt partners out of a celebrity siting, I discreetly start the 'don't look now, but. . . ' whisper, which is of course even silly to mention. They're going to look. Now.
In other news, I'm thinking about getting my shit together soon. I'm really motivated to do it, only I've yet to determine the antecedent of 'it'. Usually summertime is a time for getting inspired to do 500 things, making a list, doing about 27 of them, and finally being satisfied with catching up my photo albums, cleaning my office, and updating my renter's insurance policy. This year is different somehow. I'm still getting some niggling errands done (note smog check) and enjoying the long, guilt and homework free evenings, but I'm not inspired to do anything special. I didn't even make a Summer 2005 To-Do list. I had it on my list a few weeks ago, but I never got around to it. If anyone sees my edge lying around, please Fed Ex it immediately. I'll reimburse you. One of my favorite qualities about myself is my continual belief that good things are on the brink of happening. I will get around to those essays. I will have a sex life. I will decide what I want to be when I grow up. I don't know how long I can last without this illusion.
You may, however, be interested in learning that on Friday, on my way to The Hammer's Sundance Summer Shorts, I saw Paul Reiser standing in line to buy a movie ticket for Batman Returns in Westwood. He was staring at the floral print collapsible chair I was carrying. Then, just a few moments ago, some friends and I were having yogurt at The Big Chill in West LA when in walks Rhea Pearlman with her son. I think my friend sees her too and raise my eyebrows to exchange what I assume is a knowing, 'hey, there's Rhea Pearlman' look. She hadn't noticed. Not wanting to cheat my yogurt partners out of a celebrity siting, I discreetly start the 'don't look now, but. . . ' whisper, which is of course even silly to mention. They're going to look. Now.
In other news, I'm thinking about getting my shit together soon. I'm really motivated to do it, only I've yet to determine the antecedent of 'it'. Usually summertime is a time for getting inspired to do 500 things, making a list, doing about 27 of them, and finally being satisfied with catching up my photo albums, cleaning my office, and updating my renter's insurance policy. This year is different somehow. I'm still getting some niggling errands done (note smog check) and enjoying the long, guilt and homework free evenings, but I'm not inspired to do anything special. I didn't even make a Summer 2005 To-Do list. I had it on my list a few weeks ago, but I never got around to it. If anyone sees my edge lying around, please Fed Ex it immediately. I'll reimburse you. One of my favorite qualities about myself is my continual belief that good things are on the brink of happening. I will get around to those essays. I will have a sex life. I will decide what I want to be when I grow up. I don't know how long I can last without this illusion.
posted by kelly at 10:17 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home