I totally read the Scarlett Johansson (I bet that will be the next “hot” baby name) interview in W too fast and thought that Woody Allen was directing “Mission Impossible: 3.” I actually had to Google “woody allen and mission impossible.” Well, it was fun imagining the possibilities of a Woody Allen action film. I was totally surprised that he would direct it, but so hungover and tired I completely went with it and imagined a lot of internal dialogue, and Tom Cruise being twitchy and inexplicably spending lots of time on the sidewalks of New York before having to control a tanker in Afghanistan by remote control and saving the world from destruction while having a very difficult lunch with his ex-wife or something. . I even was hoping that Dianne Wiess or Diane Keaton would have a cameo. But now, my dreams are shattered.
So, last night was my mom’s 50th birthday party, complete with DJ, songs by the Gap Band and the Hustle. My family—not accepting of the fact that my friends and I don’t dance at parties—forced Leo to do the Limbo and dragged me out to the dance floor to dance to 50 Cent “It’s Your Birthday” while everyone else watched and laughed. This is why I choose to live in another state.
Sadly, the transsexual man who took my job at company that rhymes with Snored (and just happens to be a past acquaintance of my mother, because my life would not be complete if there was not a constant six-degrees-of-separation to everything) didn’t make it to the party. Which would have been kind of awkward anyway as all of my friends at the party knew the whole story about “the transsexual who took my job”--and decided to open up to me nearly immediately (I blame it on my Oscar Wilde mouse pad) all about the woes of having “double the clothes” that he used to, how he styles his hair, the financial woes of trying to save up enough for “breast augmentation” and the difficulties of being a woman, and various other particulars that verged on too much TMI for mere cubicle walls. Not to mention the fact that he looked an awful lot like Jon Belushi and I could henceforth only picture him in a dress. I consider myself a very open-minded person, but is this really something you want to tell a total stranger on your first day of work? I mean, my co-workers of several years knew less about my personal and impersonal life than I learned about TWTMJ in under an hour. Perhaps this is a question for Ms. Manners?
But back to the party--a high point being when my cousin who is a police officer (and was mistaken for a stripper by some of the drunken guests) brought out the Breathalyzer and people lined up to take it. My mother was not driving anywhere, needless to say. Fun times, fun times! And I haven’t even been home for 48 hours.
Is this site not meanest thing ever? I love it!: www.gawker.com
I want my gossip! - 2005-08-17
Goodbye, BGT! - 2005-08-08
hell hath no fury like a awriting workshop - 2005-08-01
My Love Don't Cost a Thing - 2005-07-14
Kiss My Grits! - 2005-07-06
