[shoves coat and purse in first, slides into booth]
Oooo, did you get nachos?
[crunches a nacho]
I don’t even like going to restaurants. Part of my myriad phobias is a restaurant phobia. But if I could go to one RN, I would. The last time I went to a restaurant was the day Kobe Bryant died. It was on the screen in the restaurant that he’d died and I gasped.
Are we that bad at talking to each other now that we need the TV on while we eat? I remember when I was a hostess, before cell phones, this one dad brought a transistor radio to dinner with this family. I assume there was some crucial sporting event that was more important than his family. That was 35 years ago and I still remember it. I wonder if he’s an old man now who wonders why his kids never visit.
He didn’t look up when I brought their water, so glued was he to his stupid radio.
Also, when I say, “I was a hostess,” I mean at a restaurant. I didn’t used to be a Twinkie. Or a Ho-Ho.
Anyway, how are you. I’m tryina think of anything actually of note has happened to me in the last few days. Really, no. I had been watching a show and ran out of episodes (oh my god, and as of this moment I can’t even remember what show I ran out of episodes with. I liked it, too, and was disappointed. And every time I run out of episodes on a show, I think, Well, I should just give up. I won’t find anything I like as much. And then I do).
Oh! I remember. Firefly Lane. I didn’t even like it very much, now that I say it out loud. It was stupid. It had that Kathryn Heimlich or whoever, the one with the big round face.
Anyway, then my TV told me to watch a Netflix show called Love. And you know how now they give you a preview while you’re mulling? It looked clever. So I said OK to the man. That is a line from When Harry Met Sally that probably only Fay is catching.
So, the female character in Love lives in Silverlake, as I did. Silverlake is a neighborhood in Los Angeles. She is a love addict, and I am. Or was. I feel like I just sort of grew out of it. Or can you be in remission?
Anyway. She fucks up all the time and you’re like, Oh my god, stop fucking up.
In general I am riveted by this show. And what do the trolls say? “Triggered”?
People are so mean to each other online. Remember when we used to be nice online and send each other pokes and IM each other on AOL at inopportune times and that was as far as it went?
So I watched a lot of Love, and I read people’s tarot cards, and I took a long walk in Forest’s cemetery. And that about sums it up.
Every time I go in that cemetery I look for kittens now.
And I don’t know if I’ve told you this, but Forest has a routine that is annoying and cute. Most of the day he’s either sleeping on my bed, with Iris, or he’s outside playing in the back with Milhous.
In the morning, though, as soon as I open this laptop, he jumps up here and gets on my lap between me and the keyboard. Oh, he LEANS on my wrists, and he PURRS, and he gets his dreamy look, and basically typing is a pain in my ARSE because there’s 10 pounds of cat on my hands. But he seems so happy and I hate to deprive him.
He’ll be 1 in March, Forest Lawn Gardens will. This is exciting because I can stop giving him kitten food and I can feed everyone the same thing, Iris’s $700 special food that they all like.
Also, and I hope this is not too controversial, but I’ve decided to just give him the same birthday I gave Lily when the shelter said she was born in March: March 11. They can share a birthday.
Lily will be 11 and Forest will be 1.
Oooo, and the other thing I did was watch the Woody Allen documentary on HBO. It’s in four parts and I saw part one, titled Woody Allen is a Monster and This Is a Very Balanced Documentary. On Facebook of June, I said I think Woody Allen is innocent, and I noted someone left the group, unfriended me and unfollowed me on Instagram all on that day.
Here’s what I have to say to that person, if they are still reading this blog: Fuck you.
Seriously, fuck you. I write a fekking blog for 15 years, I entertain you on social for almost that long, and I have one opinion you disagree with and you’re all, “Well, that’s it.”
Go. Go and fuck off. I probably had to read your shitty political posts for a decade, and never said a word. But go. Go.
I’d better go (hah) and get my work stuff started. I have a big thing to work on due today, and that’s actually pretty exciting because normally Mondays are slow because copy editing is the last step, and on Monday everyone is starting everything and what’s really fun for copy edit is Friday afternoon.
WE NEED THIS BY 5:00!! It’s 4:47!!!
But not today! Today someone started something last week, GAVE it to me last week, and said, “Can you get this back midafternoon Monday?” so I actually have something to do right away.
All right. I’ll talk to you later. Someone give me an idea for what I can blog about whilst I’m stuck here.