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May 05, 2004
A Little Shimmy With Your Toast?
On my way out of the mall, I saw this woman who looked as though she could've won first prize in the inaugural Liza Minelli Look-Alike Contest. No joke. She had the short black hair; the wide, frightening eyes; the flashy sequinned blouse and the cakey, over-done makeup. She and her friend were making their way past Cheryl & Co, and I could just swear she was gonna break out into some "Cabaret" showtunes. This woman was Liza, straight up and down.
Other than my weak-celebrity sighting, today was a pretty mixed-bag day. On the upswing, I got the chance to talk with the head news editor for "The New York Times." The New York friggin' Times. Can you believe that? God, I can't. He's really a sweet, small, little gay man (at least that's my conclusion) from Mississippi, and he was extremely interesting. Honestly, I don't want to really write for either a magazine or a newspaper unless it's as a regular columnist, but it was great to hear his perception on the business and current politics. I asked a few good questions, but this guy sitting next to me really blew us out of the water with everything he came up with. I wish I'd had more time to sit and think things through so I could make a good impression.
Downswing: My sister is now on crutches. Bear in mind, my sister is also a terrible hypochondriac, so this "accident" of hers has been severly embellished. She says she "twisted" her knee while in seventh-period gym class, and that she wasn't told to go to the nurse since it was the last period of the day. Instead of doing that, she supposedly hobbled herself all the way to the school bus, and then borrowed some crutches from her friend Natalie, our neighbor. The whole thing is very suspicious, which is why neither me or Marc have really given her any attention. When I suggested that she stay home so that I could take her to the doctor after my midterms, she refused. Right now she's "bravely" made her way up the steps to her room without any crutches at all.
My sister's so full of crap.
Downswing: The insurance company has made an assement on my car, saying that it's been completely totaled. The body shop isn't even going to fix it now, since it's supposed to be a waste of time.
Upswing: All of that bull basically means I will be getting a new (used, most likely) car in the next few weeks.
Downswing: Any additional car payments are going to set my parents back, because they were planning on getting a new car for my father sometime this year. And he really needs it. He's been driving the same itty-bitty sports car for almost thirteen years, and it's about ready to fall apart. And I'm not going to hold that against him.
Upswing: My back has finally stopped hurting! Woot! No more painkillers for me, baby.
Downswing: I no longer have an excuse not to exercise. I've been pretty much vegetating on the couch all week, and although I really didn't gain any weight (Go figure?), I really need to move my tub of lard ass. F'real.
Bahhh... Life's too complicated.
Today's Soundtrack: "Take Away," Missy Elliot featuring Tweet & Ginuwine
Best Part of the Day: N/A
posted at 8:06 p.m.
