Hi Cheeseheads:
It's rainy this evening and i just had Chinese food in Studio City with my friend Lydia, the 89-year-old pianist. I like going to dinner with her because she lives in Laurel Canyon, and I always dream that I am going to live there one day. Laurel Canyon is heaven: sweet green air and genuine quiet, in the middle of Hollywood. And so close to the Valley. I love the Valley more all the time, you see, and I'm not certain why.
Yesterday my mom told me a great story that made me feel so close to her. Last week she was in Savannah, Georgia, where my dad was getting some award or something. (I think they give out an award for Most Baby Face once a year [um, yeah], and he won!) So anyway, she and my dad and someone were waiting for a bus to the Most Baby Face awards, and it was really cold, so she ran down the street into some seedy little bar, where there were three people, and said to the bartender, can you give me a drink to go? It's so cold! He said, sure, but I'm gonna have to put it in a plastic cup! So he made her the strongest bourbon and soda in Savannah and poured it into a plastic cup, and she ran all the way back to the busstop with the drink. And then everyone drank it.
I love how she used the cold as a total excuse to drink bourbon.
She said her next hobby is going to be single-malt scotch.
Anyway, big fat "ups" to Jim for his lovely comment. And, J. Go: Where can I get Nueske's bacon here? I eat it at my mom's and it's incredible but I don't know where to get it in L.A.
So, by the way, I have to amend the last post. I tied for first place with the lovely and brainy Bonnie in the epic four-hour Trivial Pursuit game, from which I am still not recovered. I slept all day today, literally, and am still completely useless and about to pass out.
It's a lot less depressing to sleep all day when it's raining. It feels like the thing to do.
I watched "Barbershop" last night. I have a crush on Ice Cube now. He is so cute. The movie was pretty good, although I fast forwarded through the comic bits where these two retarded thugs are trying to break into an ATM machine. The scenes in the barbershop are beautifully constructed 10-way conversations on everything from "the difference between a woman with a big ass and a big-ass woman" to "OJ did it." The whole thing is a tribute to the American Mom and Pop, which, as I have said before, is the backbone, the heart and the soul of the American economy. I was so exhausted yesterday that at the end of the movie, I started crying, muttering to my dog about the sacred, endangered institution of the American Mom and Pop.
It feels really good to cry at the end of movies that aren't sad, just because you feel like it. I realized this was OK when my friend told me he started crying during the Spice Girls movie. My editor Joe cries like that all the time, especially at anything girl-power related, he says. He finds girl-power terribly moving. I do too.
In fact, I am so fascinated by what makes people cry that I want to know: what was the last thing that made you cry? Tell me in the comments. You don't have to use your name if you're shy. And you don't have to tell me some personal sad story.
sweet dreams.
xoxo
kate
It's rainy this evening and i just had Chinese food in Studio City with my friend Lydia, the 89-year-old pianist. I like going to dinner with her because she lives in Laurel Canyon, and I always dream that I am going to live there one day. Laurel Canyon is heaven: sweet green air and genuine quiet, in the middle of Hollywood. And so close to the Valley. I love the Valley more all the time, you see, and I'm not certain why.
Yesterday my mom told me a great story that made me feel so close to her. Last week she was in Savannah, Georgia, where my dad was getting some award or something. (I think they give out an award for Most Baby Face once a year [um, yeah], and he won!) So anyway, she and my dad and someone were waiting for a bus to the Most Baby Face awards, and it was really cold, so she ran down the street into some seedy little bar, where there were three people, and said to the bartender, can you give me a drink to go? It's so cold! He said, sure, but I'm gonna have to put it in a plastic cup! So he made her the strongest bourbon and soda in Savannah and poured it into a plastic cup, and she ran all the way back to the busstop with the drink. And then everyone drank it.
I love how she used the cold as a total excuse to drink bourbon.
She said her next hobby is going to be single-malt scotch.
Anyway, big fat "ups" to Jim for his lovely comment. And, J. Go: Where can I get Nueske's bacon here? I eat it at my mom's and it's incredible but I don't know where to get it in L.A.
So, by the way, I have to amend the last post. I tied for first place with the lovely and brainy Bonnie in the epic four-hour Trivial Pursuit game, from which I am still not recovered. I slept all day today, literally, and am still completely useless and about to pass out.
It's a lot less depressing to sleep all day when it's raining. It feels like the thing to do.
I watched "Barbershop" last night. I have a crush on Ice Cube now. He is so cute. The movie was pretty good, although I fast forwarded through the comic bits where these two retarded thugs are trying to break into an ATM machine. The scenes in the barbershop are beautifully constructed 10-way conversations on everything from "the difference between a woman with a big ass and a big-ass woman" to "OJ did it." The whole thing is a tribute to the American Mom and Pop, which, as I have said before, is the backbone, the heart and the soul of the American economy. I was so exhausted yesterday that at the end of the movie, I started crying, muttering to my dog about the sacred, endangered institution of the American Mom and Pop.
It feels really good to cry at the end of movies that aren't sad, just because you feel like it. I realized this was OK when my friend told me he started crying during the Spice Girls movie. My editor Joe cries like that all the time, especially at anything girl-power related, he says. He finds girl-power terribly moving. I do too.
In fact, I am so fascinated by what makes people cry that I want to know: what was the last thing that made you cry? Tell me in the comments. You don't have to use your name if you're shy. And you don't have to tell me some personal sad story.
sweet dreams.
xoxo
kate
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