heaven and hell
05.24.03 @ 11:53 p.m.
Hurrah! I've just come back from oh, nearly two hours of bumming around Barnes and Noble with Martha and Amy. I bought one of the issues of Star Wars Insider (ahem, yeah, I'm a geek) that I didn't get when my subsciption lapsed. Return of the Jedi 20th anniversary, yo. Yeah, I just said 'yo.' I must be stopped before I sin against the English language again.
Okay, I'm so in Martha-emulation mode, I'm afraid. I really freaked her out tonight. She said "I feel sorry for Joe Strummer having died before he met me--the person all his songs are clearly addressed to." This came after declaring "Train In Vain" not only the best song in the history of the universe, but the best thing in the history of sound. I chose the noncommital "hmm" rather than agreeing or disagreeing. But I also said something about building to the moment they meet in the afterlife. The thing that freaked her out was a comment along the lines of "He's probably watching you--he's in the car now!" Silly me. I should have known better than to say something I knew would freak her out. This was when we went to Winco in the middle of the night to buy rice (for the big celebration thing that Martha's family is throwing tomorrow) and we joked about stoners with munchies severe enough to warrant the purchase of bulk foods. I remarked that it was dangerous for them to be driving forklifts around in the middle of the night--the stoners have impaired reaction times! Oh, the humanity.
Anyway. Most of the evening consisted of me reading and commenting on a huge, inch-thick Italian issue of Marie Claire. I understood some of it, but mostly I was alternately confused and horrified. Martha read British music magazines. Amy read some SciFi thing. I think I probably snubbed Amy a bit. Martha and I were showing each other bits from our magazines. Ooh, Martha's issue of Q had a 'last word' section done by Homer Simpson, and it featured Homer with the animated Who (does anyone else find it odd/amusing that they animated the Who to look like they did in the seventies rather than how they look now?) and Amy's weird magazine had an ad for rock music checks, including Who checks. I would totally get those. Because I am obsessive. Muahaha.
I love seeing Martha. Amy probably also felt snubbed because without being conscious of it, I walked with Martha toward her car rather than toward Amy's truck. Honestly, I hate driving with Amy. Doesn't matter how goddamn hot it is, she keeps the cab of her truck baking hot. I cannot stand it. Martha's car guarantees good music and reasonable temperature. And conversation with someone with whom I have things in common.
What annoys me is the way things get missed or mixed up. Martha kind of likes Sid Vicious. I actually like the music of the Sex Pistols. And yet, I get a Frank Zappa postcard and Martha gets the Sex Pistols one. Zappa shares a birthday with me and I think he's somewhat cool, but I don't actually like the music of the Mothers. But I suppose I could see how she could get confused. I'll never get anywhere if I persist in seeing both sides of a situation, will I? Sometimes I feel bad for being so critical, but not often. I suppose when I vent a little, I get a hint of guilt in the aftermath of relief.
Tonight's SNL featured the Weekend Update appearance of "Avril". We all love that one for the lines: "I don't know who David Baow-y is or the Sex Pie-stahls." Also: "I'm wearin' a boy's tank top!" One of the great parts of being home is that SNL is followed by really old episodes of ER. Last summer I got to see the Ewan McGregor episode by staying up too late one saturday night.
My mom seems really psyched about me furnishing the house. She keeps trying to foist all our antiques off on me, though. Apparently the dresser in the back room (which I intend to take) belonged to my great grandmother. My mom turns to me in the middle of this afternoon: "Do you want these blue plates?" Wait, aren't they, like, antiques? They're the kind of fancy ones. "Well, I can't give you what we use everyday, these are just too nice to throw out." Same thing with an old oak table. She wants to see if she can get it fixed and pawn it off on me. She almost bought a couch today. Add on to these sudden gifts of antique furniture and flatware her declaration that I should take what I can get--meaning plastic lawn chairs. We hardly have a lawn, I protest. Mom indicates I should use them as indoor furniture. Thank you, I'll pass.
Previously
fuck it @ 08.01.05
fanciful imaginary sea voyages to come @ 07.20.05
*dies* @ 07.19.05
more ootp @ 07.17.05
harry potter: driving our children into devil worship @ 07.17.05
