…and what do I have to show for it?
I’m busy at work and will be busy after work for the next three days, and do not foresee time to write a post worthy of this blog and of you, my dear reader. So I am writing this word vomit very quickly, to try and sate your appetite for my prose as best I can, although I anticipate that this brief taste will merely incraese your ravenous hunger for the lexical wisdom you so desire. Anywho.
On Saturday I only had 3 drinks (2 beers, one mixed drink, if you’re curious), but I somehow ended up more drunk than I’ve been in a long time. I barely remember the bus ride home, although morning-after phone inspection revealed that I texted approximately every person I know during the commute. One text message included a marriage proposal.
I bought a sweet pair of aviators on Friday, and immediately stepped on them.
I met a San Francisco writer at a party on Friday, one who I respect and have read and who I casually follow, but I didn’t want to be the weird, creepy fan, so I pretended I didn’t know him, and asked him, “So what is it exactly that you do? Ohh you’re a writer? Have you published anything? How charming!”
My sunburn from Tahoe last weekend has started peeling. Peeling is a huge aesthetic bummer, but it actually has great entertainment value. What does it say about me/humans that I/we can derive so much pleasure from pulling off our own skin?
In a conversation on a hike with friends yesterday, I realized (well, I’ve realized this before, but this conversation really hammered home the point) that I have seen basically no movies in my entire life. If you feel so inclined, please comment on this post with the #1 movie that you would say I absolutely can’t die without watching. And, if I keep on peeling my skin off at my current rate, my death is imminent–so please comment sooner rather than later.
A more coherent post will follow, I swear.
-Kate
8 responses so far ↓
margaret // July 13, 2009 at 5:54 pm |
just flippin through “when we posted” from feb-mar-apr….*sigh*
in direct response to this post, i will note that i derive absolutely no pleasure from peeling off my own skin. if your observations really do extend to humanity in general as you suggest, i worry about the implications this has for my own already-tenuous feelings of connection to the human race.
here’s to more consideration for your paranoid misanthrope demographic in future posts!
breezy // July 13, 2009 at 10:54 pm |
that connection is hanging by a real thin thread mags, a reaaaal thin thread. you DON’T like to peel your skin!?!?!?!?!
also, re: having seen movies. I suffer the same fate kate, the same fate. A plea for help, wise readers
Jamie // July 13, 2009 at 10:58 pm |
Dudes. First of all my skin? Can’t get enough of it. Scabs, hangnails, peel, bring it on. But it’s mine, my body, I called it. Secondly, movies are great, you should go see them.
ko // July 14, 2009 at 6:50 am |
Sleepaway Camp. You shouldn’t die without seeing it.
Kate // July 14, 2009 at 11:21 am |
thank you, ko, for being the only person so far to leave a helpful and/or relevant comment.
Suzi // July 14, 2009 at 8:02 pm |
OK, maybe the skin peeling thing is genetic, because I love it too. That translucent, papery
peel. How far will it go? As for the movies…
my list toggles between the traditional and classic (Casablanca! African Queen! Now I need to think of a movie that doesn’t have Humphrey Bogart in it, because this isn’t about him. Babette’s Feast. ) and the movie I saw most recently because it’s the only one I can remember (Up).
Jacob // July 15, 2009 at 12:36 pm |
Saw IV
Cory // July 17, 2009 at 6:42 am |
I’m calling your bluff Kate.
I distinctly remember watching Glitter with you, and at least a few J-Lo classics.
For the record, the only thing better than peeling skin is popping zits.