Saturday, May 28, 2005
Life in the Fast Lane
Before I begin describing my day in Quincy, you all have to promise to not be jealous. It will be difficult, but it will help you to grow as people. Sort of like the time your mom wouldn't buy you the Hypercolor shirt you wanted. But without the crying in Chess King.
I rose at ten to the sound of my parents watching Matlock reruns at top volume in the living room. A tiny dog immediately jumped on my bed and began licking my face, causing me to briefly wonder if my face wash is poisonous. (It is not.) I had some two-month-old Fruit Loops for breakfast (tasted the same) and went for a quick run. Then it was time to shower and dress in my most 1940s-style clothes for a lunch engagement with my grandmother. Tragically, I lacked both a bowler and spats.
For a woman who recently murdered a reptile in cold blood (no pun intended), grandmother was in pretty good shape. We covered a number of her favorite topics, from what it was like to be a secretary at the courthouse in the 1940s to the things that are wrong with everyone she knows. The menu was ham sandwiches and bacon crackers.
After that, a jaunt to the park to play tennis with my sister. I managed to lose fairly badly, despite the fact that she is tiny and has a knee problem. Then we lay out on the lawn and read the back issues of Entertainment Weekly that have been accumulating at my parents' house. Tragically, the Spring Movie Preview is no more exhilerating in late May.
Still to come? Dinner from Quincy's newest sandwich restaurant! And I'm kind of hoping to rent some painfully unfunny theatrical vehicle for a middle-aged comedian. Again, remember your jealousy pledge.
Before I begin describing my day in Quincy, you all have to promise to not be jealous. It will be difficult, but it will help you to grow as people. Sort of like the time your mom wouldn't buy you the Hypercolor shirt you wanted. But without the crying in Chess King.
I rose at ten to the sound of my parents watching Matlock reruns at top volume in the living room. A tiny dog immediately jumped on my bed and began licking my face, causing me to briefly wonder if my face wash is poisonous. (It is not.) I had some two-month-old Fruit Loops for breakfast (tasted the same) and went for a quick run. Then it was time to shower and dress in my most 1940s-style clothes for a lunch engagement with my grandmother. Tragically, I lacked both a bowler and spats.
For a woman who recently murdered a reptile in cold blood (no pun intended), grandmother was in pretty good shape. We covered a number of her favorite topics, from what it was like to be a secretary at the courthouse in the 1940s to the things that are wrong with everyone she knows. The menu was ham sandwiches and bacon crackers.
After that, a jaunt to the park to play tennis with my sister. I managed to lose fairly badly, despite the fact that she is tiny and has a knee problem. Then we lay out on the lawn and read the back issues of Entertainment Weekly that have been accumulating at my parents' house. Tragically, the Spring Movie Preview is no more exhilerating in late May.
Still to come? Dinner from Quincy's newest sandwich restaurant! And I'm kind of hoping to rent some painfully unfunny theatrical vehicle for a middle-aged comedian. Again, remember your jealousy pledge.
