The name itself sort of funny. Just. FYI.

So, I just did a Facebook search for the (unusual) name written in the front of a used book, then found the person and started trying to figure out, based on their profile, why they would want to sell said book, and then stopped abruptly, because oh my God, I'm the woman alone in her apartment wearing popsicle-stained pajamas and stalking strangers in a triumphant melding of book resales and the Internet, and THAT IS CREEPY.

Sometimes you just Know.

I'm watching Nicholas Cage in the Criterion Collection Release (just kidding) of Knowing right now, and I'm less than ten minutes in.

So far the film has included a precocious child in the 1950s, the preparation of a time capsule, a marching band, a well-intentioned but clueless teacher, the precocious child (possibly an orphan?) found in the school basement after something terrible was done to/by her resulting in blood, endless scrolling numbers, images that appear to be satellite photos of the entire world or something, a precocious child in the present day, a pet rabbit with an excellent-looking hutch, an over-sized telescope, the rings of Saturn, a child's conversion to vegetarianism and a parent's over-the-top protestations to same, antlers, two tigers gettin' all playful with each other on the Discovery channel, a house that is supposed to be "quirky" but is really just somewhere Nicholas Cage's character could clearly not afford given what appears to be his current station in life, Nicholas Cage's character drinking a glass of red wine with a bit too much gusto, Nicholas Cage's character grilling hot dogs, and last but CERTAINLY not least, Nicholas Cage's both bewildering and beguiling forehead.

This will be the greatest cinematic experience of my life, obvz.

Selective Memory

Me: Man, I really don't remember anything about our graduate school graduation.

Friend: That's because you stayed home to watch the season finale of The Office.

Reality Television Scares Me To DEATH.

New York update to come. Pinkie swear.

Too soon?

Sarah: farrah fawcett was a BABE

me: I KNOW

I feel bad for her

because this [Michael Jackson's death] will steal her thunder

media-wise

which is what I'm sure she cared about on her deathbed

Sarah: total babe

yeah, like when mother theresa died right after princess diana no one really cared.

me: you know, though, if any good comes out of this tragedy, it's that I'll no longer confuse farrah fawcett and goldie hawn

Sarah: is it innapropriate to write that on my facebook right now?

me: hahaha

I don't care if you do

Sarah: this morning when i heard the news i was like 'i loved her in On Golden Pond!'

me: hahahahhahaah

Sarah: and then i was informed that that was jane fonda

THEY LOOK THE SAME

me: yeah, I worried all day about HOW KURT RUSSELL WAS TAKING IT. I'm probz gonna blog this whole dialog

Sarah: HAHHAHAAAAAAA

yeah, please do

The disclaimer, of course, is that OBVIOUSLY her death is properly tragic, &c. And other than the abstract "he died and that's sad" (with a side order of sorrow about how he probably felt very, very alone), I don't have strong feelings about Michael Jackson's death. This is odd, given that I have strong feelings about basically everything else in the known universe. Huh.

31

Tonight I sat around with my parents, brother, and future sister-in-law, listening to a tape we recorded for my grandmother when I was a little girl. We were a ridiculous, lovely family back then (and we still are), and so the tape included such highlights as my use of the word "unpredictable" at the age of 3, my fretting over forgetting to make a card for my uncle's birthday, an all-family rendition of "Children of the Heavenly Father," a refusal to recite a poem blamed on my imaginary friend, and a recounting of the plot of The Great Mouse Detective.

We moved on to dinner afterward. My family's long since given up trying to find a restaurant that serves "Lauren food." I'm a notoriously picky eater -- I'm better than I once was, when I went off to college with a roster of maybe five foods I enjoyed eating. I settled on pesto pasta, which I usually like, but what arrived at the table wasn't something I enjoyed. I finally passed a forkful over to my mom.

"Taste this and tell me why I don't like it."

She chewed slowly. "Too much basil." Exactly right.

Just an ordinary night, spent celebrating a 31st wedding anniversary with my family. Nothing too special. But when I think about how lucky I am to have them, it knocks the wind out of me.

How I Roll.

So, on the one hand, I'm crazy (by DSM-IV standards [this is another example of how humor makes it okay, so let's just run with it]). On the other hand, I'm just really weird. I'm a nerd and a total spaz and I live alone, which means my apartment just gets RIDICULOUS most of the time. I talk out loud to myself constantly, which isn't so very out of the ordinary, but right now, I've decided I'm really into the word "discourage," so I'm saying that in different sorts of voices, and then cracking myself up. I'll also be making a plan in my head, and then the voice that's NOT in my head gets involved. I was thinking about my errands the other day, and thought to myself, "I should go to the library and THEN the pharmacy so I won't have to carry all my books there." And then I said, out loud, all supportive and proud of myself, "Ohhhh, that's a good point!"

Then there's the sleep-eating, which meant that this morning I woke up in a puddle of Caffeine-Free Pepsi. Then there's the part where I usually make dinner at oh, say, 11:30, then often fall asleep with dishes in my bed. Then there's the fact that I like to give myself Tank Girl-esque hair before bed so that when I wake up in the morning, I can giggle at how ridiculous I look and try to snap myself out of the maudlin before it hits, like so:



You can print that and frame it if you want. It's SUPER pretty.

Then there is the part where I like to make a fort out of pillows and blankets, and then get inside of it, and then listen to Stockard Channing reading Ramona Forever. I may or may not be doing that right now. You decide.