NDG and I were just reflecting on how one kind compliment can change the course of a day. We crossed paths with a girl whose dress we admired here at the studio, and I told her we liked it. She had just hung up her phone and we supposed that maybe she just got dumped or found out a friend was losing a limb and was devastated until we told her we enjoyed her orange frock.
I wasn't having a particularly rough day, but having Amanda Foreman, the author of Georgiana: The Duchess of Devonshire, tell me this morning that I asked the best questions of her entire book tour was a definite mood elevator. I liked it even more when she asked me what I did besides this and knew immediately - and without asking - that I was a writer and that this job isn't the end all of my creative explorations.
Last night the girls and I took in a Mortified stage reading. I'm hooked. I loved it. Next month's event is already on my calendar. I wasn't religious to a journal or diary nor do I have the balls necessary to do such a public speaking event whilst a snapshot of my awkwardest stage is projected large enough for a room of hundreds to see. But boy do I enjoy listening to others' stories. (Not that I couldn't imagine looking at a picture of me and a certain high school crush while reading my schoolgirl poetry detailing a love so unrequited it could best be described in the lyrics of "Obsession" by Animotion.)
What else, what else.
I ran around my apartment all crazy like yesterday morning on a hunt for my keys only to realize I had left them in the lock the night before. GENIUS. (This is why when I post pictures of my apt I will not be showing the exteriors of the building nor in any way identify its location.)
The morning before I woke up cradling a pillow and rocking it like it was a baby. I'm guessing in my dreams it was. That same day I would find out that a friend back home was expecting and that my newest nephew is making life tough on my sister.
Mad Men. Dear Jon Hamm. I am trying. Ever since our awkward elevator exchange when I vowed to watch your series. It's up for a crazy number of Emmys this wkend. So I got the dvds on Netflix. I gotta say, I'm not sure what's wrong with me, but I'm really working hard to get through them. Maybe my mind is currently too scattered to focus on anything deeper than the new edition of 90210. It's highly possible. I will say that each episode I'm looking forward to the last 10 minutes or so when Don Draper exposes his true asshole-ness. I've heard nothing but good things about Season 2, so I'm anxiously awaiting catching up.
Grey's Anatomy comes back next week. Eh. We'll see how that goes. I'm definitely more excited for Pushing Daisies on Oct 1 and whenever How I Met Your Mother comes back.
I saw "The Lucky Ones" the other night. I like it. It's a different Rachel McAdams than I'm used to, but once I got used to it I liked her again. The movie starts kinda slow but I definitely enjoyed where it went. I was briefly taken out of it tho when, during their road trip, they go through St Louis. There's something that clutches my heart when I see the view of the Arch and downtown from westbound 40. They lost me tho when they were supposed to be driving west and instead they were on the service road in Chesterfield Valley (hello Lowe's and SONIC! (I've eaten there!) heading EAST. Quelle domage!
Actually, that happens a lot in movies, but it never ceases to annoy me when I actually am aware of the geography being assaulted. It happened with the Paris references in the Da Vinci Code and in Knocked Up at the end where they were supposedly driving to the east side but were in fact on the PCH headed for Malibu. At least I can understand that being used for beauty shot purposes.
I get to do the junket next week, and won't bring up the inaccuracies. It's my second junket with Rachel, which in my head makes us friends.
Alright I've gotta get to work. I'm excited about the weekend. I have a little Judd Apatow/Raining Jane action slated for tomorrow night. Then Saturday it's MGMT, Spoon and Beck - backed by an orchestra - which will be conducted by HIS DAD. How awesome does that sound? I'm super stoked. Then Sunday I'm going to cheer on a couple pals in the Long Beach Triathalon. After all, those who don't run cheer on those who do.
In case you were wondering...I want this bike:
It's Chinese. It's called "Flying Pigeon." And when I say I want it, it means I'm going to buy it unless I don't enjoy my test drive. And the one I'm gonna get has a basket on the front for grocery shopping purposes. And it's a girl version. (The one in the photograph is for boys.)
The end.
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