one week from today i’ll turn 31. i can no longer hide from it. today, while spending three hours in the dental chair getting a root canal, i couldn’t help but think: this is the beginning of the end– is this really what i have to look forward to? what’s next a broken hip, arthritis and constipation? what crap, no pun intended.
for no other reason than sim being indian. really, that’s all it takes for sedaris, because as he said “it would be cool to say your DA is from india”. if it’s good enough for sedaris, it’s good enough for me!
as usual, he was brilliant last night. this is the third time i’ve seen him, and it just gets better each time. when my planned date flaked on me, i asked my dearest marjorie to go. since she decided to break my heart by getting married and moving to utah county i don’t see her often. it was a joyful occasion, celebrated with wine and dinner at red rock.
luckily, we were able to arrive quite a bit before the show, giving us the opportunity to speak with him for a few minutes as he signed my book. as i often am when star struck, i could not form complete sentences, rather drooling over my talented hero. marj took over when she realized it was entirely possible i was going to jump into his arms rather than speak. she saved the moment of silence by pointing out he signed a cock–what she meant was a rooster on the front of his audio cd’s. we laughed, and at that point i was able to once again speak.
he drew a picture of marj puking on my book, fitting as she is knocked up. when she told him so, instead of offering congratulations he immediately asked her last name. interesting.
during his reading i nearly peed my pants multiple times, and frankly urine is how i determine a comedic success. also, by the end of the evening my stomach hurt from laughing so hard–that i’ll consider a workout!
flowers, my least favorite co-worker today, pointed out my pants remind him of star trek. since i’ve never actually seen an entire episode, i had to google it to prove just how wrong he was.
but, he wasn’t.
i try and walk the one-eyed pug nightly. i pretend it’s not exercise and actually an opportunity for daisy to shit in other people’s yards. the length of our walks depends entirely upon whether or not i remember my ipod. (might be easier if i had three like orrin hatch.) completely opposite of what ‘normal’ logic might suggest, bringing along music shortens the walks. despite every attempt not to sing along i can’t stop myself, after long stares from fellow walkers i immediately turn around and walk home in shame.
after yesterdays humiliating rendition of a paul anka song, i’ve decided to revamp the ‘pod before letting it out of the house again. so, today we took a long leisurely walk and i paid attention to my surroundings, giving me the chance to see a man in front of me literally stop and smell the roses. you know, i don’t think i’ve ever noticed someone doing that–in fact i’ve never even noticed the rosebush the many times i’ve walked my neighborhood.
maybe, just maybe, next time i will.
