The Little Sister Bites
Phew! I'm exausted! It just took me an hour to get back into this blog. This is really testing my fortitude for diary healing.
I'm rethinking going to the movies just because I can. I went tonight for some diversion. I ate a peanut butter and fruit spread sandwich with an iced decaf to go (from therefrigerator at home), on the way. Leaving barely enough time to go straight there. So I dashed into the library to pick up the audio book I had ordered, then raced into the Food Hole (our local independent Kimberton Whole Foods) to exchange some goats milk yogurt that had not reached yogurt status, for some good old Seven Stars cow yogurt, and a stand of celery (looking robust and crisp), and arrived at the Colonial Theater just in time. I didn't even get my customary parking spot on the street -had to go to the lot out back, but still I made it.
I should have been tipped off when I got to the concession stand to get the next course of my evening meal, and Scott said "I didn't have you figured for this movie", as he reached for my signature snow caps. "no snow caps tonight...I need another vegetable to compliment my sandwich -pop corn please" I lamely told him that I had heard something about this movie and I wanted to see for my self.
I went up to the balcony to sit with my mother, and by that I mean to sit in the seat that sports her name, mentioning that we gave it to the theater so that she could dip in from eternity at any time and check out the earthly entertainment scene.
Well not only did the movie fail to launch in the catagory of earthly entertainment but, to go along with my being embarrassed for the actors and myself for being there, I stretched my discomfort a half a mile further (not being one to under do) and realized that once again my innocent little pea sized sense of the world had failed to alert me when I selected this upper level vantage point for my mother, that people go up there to be alone, with a date -not just for the thrill of being in the balcony (like I do). So not only is someone else usually sitting in or too close to the seat I'm headed for but I am either the only single up there or on the occasion that I go with a woman friend, could be mistaken for bing on a date myself.
All this is to alert you, and I'm sure most of you already know this, that Strangers With Candy is Amy Sedaris taking flagrant advantage of her hilarious brother's good name to get into my personal space, and I want my evening back. Heck, I toyed with the idea of rearranging the sewing room. The only way to erase my error in judgment would be to take on the sewing room now, at 30 minutes past midnight, and in the morning pretend that nothing else had happened happened, I'd have to make something up about how that glorious arbor of celery and an unopened tub of yogurt ended up in my fridge and how come there were wierd little popcorn skins stuck in my back teeth?
There is an ant with a see-through posterior section canvassing the keys as I type. I know him from the other day. He looks like he's going up to the balcony as he traverses each row of letters from bottom to top over and over again. Is he mocking me or just another seeker trying to round out his work day? Maybe I'll take him to the beach with me tomorrow -we both could use a refund.
I'm rethinking going to the movies just because I can. I went tonight for some diversion. I ate a peanut butter and fruit spread sandwich with an iced decaf to go (from therefrigerator at home), on the way. Leaving barely enough time to go straight there. So I dashed into the library to pick up the audio book I had ordered, then raced into the Food Hole (our local independent Kimberton Whole Foods) to exchange some goats milk yogurt that had not reached yogurt status, for some good old Seven Stars cow yogurt, and a stand of celery (looking robust and crisp), and arrived at the Colonial Theater just in time. I didn't even get my customary parking spot on the street -had to go to the lot out back, but still I made it.
I should have been tipped off when I got to the concession stand to get the next course of my evening meal, and Scott said "I didn't have you figured for this movie", as he reached for my signature snow caps. "no snow caps tonight...I need another vegetable to compliment my sandwich -pop corn please" I lamely told him that I had heard something about this movie and I wanted to see for my self.
I went up to the balcony to sit with my mother, and by that I mean to sit in the seat that sports her name, mentioning that we gave it to the theater so that she could dip in from eternity at any time and check out the earthly entertainment scene.
Well not only did the movie fail to launch in the catagory of earthly entertainment but, to go along with my being embarrassed for the actors and myself for being there, I stretched my discomfort a half a mile further (not being one to under do) and realized that once again my innocent little pea sized sense of the world had failed to alert me when I selected this upper level vantage point for my mother, that people go up there to be alone, with a date -not just for the thrill of being in the balcony (like I do). So not only is someone else usually sitting in or too close to the seat I'm headed for but I am either the only single up there or on the occasion that I go with a woman friend, could be mistaken for bing on a date myself.
All this is to alert you, and I'm sure most of you already know this, that Strangers With Candy is Amy Sedaris taking flagrant advantage of her hilarious brother's good name to get into my personal space, and I want my evening back. Heck, I toyed with the idea of rearranging the sewing room. The only way to erase my error in judgment would be to take on the sewing room now, at 30 minutes past midnight, and in the morning pretend that nothing else had happened happened, I'd have to make something up about how that glorious arbor of celery and an unopened tub of yogurt ended up in my fridge and how come there were wierd little popcorn skins stuck in my back teeth?
There is an ant with a see-through posterior section canvassing the keys as I type. I know him from the other day. He looks like he's going up to the balcony as he traverses each row of letters from bottom to top over and over again. Is he mocking me or just another seeker trying to round out his work day? Maybe I'll take him to the beach with me tomorrow -we both could use a refund.
posted by cara graver at 8:59 PM
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