 Friday Fluff |
|
The president is in town today. We saw the motorcade go by. We watched his speech. It was terrible. Barf. ::: In other important news, I've enjoyed spotting fun guest stars on the season one Party of Five DVDs! Among them? Cari Shayne, the first Karen on General Hospital, playing a friend of Julia's. Christa Miller, Dr. Cox's baby's mama on Scrubs, playing a waitress at the bar where Julia worked, along with Nicole Sullivan from Mad TV. That bar was chock full of familiar faces! The scary guard from The Green Mile was some kind of bartender or roadie or something, and he would give Julia speeches fraught with worldly wisdom from a head sporting a greasy ponytail. And Peter Dobson, forever known by my tender eighth grade heart as Dominic from Sing, was her boss, with whom she contemplated fornicating before she was busted for being fifteen, beyond the shadow of a doubt. (Okay, I cannot say that someone is fifteen without singing part of that terrible show's theme song in my head and be unfortunately reminded of how it starred Greg from Felicity and the guy from Two Guys and a Girl who is now dating Alanis Morrissette.) And of course, Pixley. Julia continues to grate with her bratty "GOD, Char!", "GOD, Bai!", and "GOD, Claud!" exclamations and her horrifying hair and wardrobe stylings, but I am definitely feeling the Charlie Salinger love, despite his semi-mullet. When he confronts the drunk driver and cries that it's his fault and asks how he is supposed to get rid of that, and the man cries back that it's HIS fault, and says to Charlie, "YOU'RE THE HERO IN THIS STORY, SON!" -- well, forget it. These things are what got me loving this show in the first place. (That's one of my top three favorite episodes, along with Charlie and Kirsten's first nonwedding and the one when they stage the intervention for Bailey when he becomes a stinky drunk.) Anyway, first season. During the pilot commentary, Scott Wolf calls Matthew Fox "Matty." LOVE. ::: I went shopping yesterday after work for various parties and weddings I'm attending in the next few weeks, and it was such an unmitigated disaster of one ill-fitting nightmare dress after another that I felt when getting into my car that I should whip out the proverbial mini-tape recorder and announce, à la Lloyd Dobler, "That was a mistake." Of course, since it started to rain soon thereafter, I wanted to continue my imaginary recorded monologue and say, "The rain on my car is a baptism," but instead I went home, opened a can of Pringles, and watched Bowling for Columbine. I watched Good Morning America this morning, and of course, in backing up the whole section of the movie about how we are inundated with fear-inducing messages constantly, every single news headline was about something horrifying and threatening. So, if you're going to the beach this weekend ... watch out for the RIPTIDES because they are trying to KILL YOU. ::: Tonight I'm going to some kind of writing seminar that my mother guilted me into and then I'm going to a cocktail party for which I have no cocktail dress. This weekend, I have absolutely got to reserve the Paris hotel once and for all, get out into the soggy morass that is my yard after two weeks of solid rain and no mowing or weeding, wash all the towels covered in wet, muddy dog (i.e. every towel I own), and possibly even clean my baseboards, which are starting to turn so black that they're scaring me. ::: I just went shopping again on my lunch break, and once again, hell. I really regret the day my bosoms began to blossom. I do not know how women with truly large breasts buy clothes. I truly do not. Mine are a C/D, and I mean, I am here to tell you that NOTHING FITS. Cute dresses, cute tops? Forget about it. Just forget it. They are not designed to accommodate, say, A BRA. Even a strapless bra! So women of the world are now expected to go braless? What? No. So I scrounge around for dresses with actual straps or sleeves under which I can sport a bra, but they are few and far between and butt-ugly to boot. It's all very distressing. Tomorrow, I am going to have to resort to the mall, and if there is any worse way to spend the first rain-free Saturday in weeks on end, I cannot begin to wager what it is. I hate that all of the strapless dresses are so low cut in the back that my strapless bra shows, and if anyone thinks that I am going to wear one of these just so I can go strapless and backless, they are woefully mistaken. ::: I think I'm going to bail out on work early today in order to mentally prepare myself to write soulfully tonight, whatever the hell that means. I'm going to try to swing by to see Toni where she'll be at the nearby art hop on the way. I am really not in the mood to write soulfully. I'd much rather do the entire art hop and then flit to the cocktail party. But it seemed really important to my mom for me to go, so I'm going. Because sometimes we do things we don't feel like doing to make our moms happy. God knows she does that all the time for me. If I find myself getting annoyed tonight, I'll think of how she showed up yesterday afternoon to plant begonias in my front bed just because she thought I needed some color.
About this time in ...
© Copyright 2004 elb |
|
