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September 09, 2003
Don't Give Dogs...
oh goodness, I'm in a confession mood tonight.
but I promised I wouldn't write about anything in particular that happened over the last week, out of respect for the kind, loving, and terribly shy soul who asked me to refrain.
no matter that I'm failing to find much inspiration from anything else that happens from day-to-day. Hmm...let's see....
...the overflowing toilet in the ladies' room at work was pretty gross, but not noteworthy. unless you remember that I just got this job after being out of work for 9 months, so that I have a job, overflowing toilet and all, is pretty damned noteworthy--the poopy floor? not so much.
...the designers at the fitting on Friday 'needed' to draw on the muslin samples more often than what has become 'normal' - why is it that changes only happen near the naughty bits? I'm always being prodded in the gusset. but not enough for it to be worth my while.
...my friend frank finally finished Buttleman. and the premiere was, apparently, a smashing success. I only wish I could have attended. . . I suppose I'll have to wait 'til it shows up in Chicago. Or on IFC (an addiction, now, that fills my Tivo with independent goodness). or on DVD, when I buy it.
...saw Le Divorce. Finally, a modern-day Merchant/Ivory that I can enjoy. A fine, fine effort. Very weird to see Glen Close seeming to play Christine Froula, if Christine went the Fiction route, rather than Academe. okay, if that made no sense, it's only because I couldn't find a photo of the two women to show you the uncanny similarities.
...realized that I tend to find a vague corresponding celebrity for everyone I meet and then I can't shake the correspondence when I see movies. My brother has always looked like a combo of the guy from the Lemonheads and Matt Damon, which made "The Talented Mr Ripley" very creepy. Believe it or not, my mother resembled Candace Bergen enough where my college beau and his cronies called her "Murphy" when they came over for dinner, or visited me in hospital....I worried mom might get that awful stringy neck thing she had going on - thankfully, my family ages more gracefully than the Bergens.
...can't get 70s Love Groove out of my head. That's right, I listen to Janet Jackson. Ms. Jackson, to you-all. I'm fit to tizzify with the sexy silly song buzzin' my skull. I'd ask for tips on how to free the music, but I think I like how this makes me feel - makes me walk like I got an audience.
whoo, talk about a list of nonsequitors. and somewhat boring ones at that. I'm givin the man a call - I'm sure there's SOMETHING we did that he wouldn't mind sharing with a couple hundred strangers...
...okay, I can write about one thing we did this weekend - Salsa dancin' in Chicago. Boy, can my man cut a rug! I loved that the place was so crowded, you can't feel self-conscious about not knowing all the steps - and, ladies, if you make brief eye contact with any gentleman in the room, he'll step up and give you a dance lesson just as soon as the next song starts. I picked up several new steps....at least, I think they're steps - my spanish isn't so good, and their english vocab (much better than my spanish) was more centered around their pre-med/pre-law coursework than on the dance. eh, good thing you can learn to dance without having to speak a word - just follow their lead, step carefully, and smile!
Posted by Heather at September 9, 2003 10:43 PM
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