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for everything else ...
08/31/2006 = 07:04 AM

"I didn't know much about the local citizens. But I knew about American sailors, and I knew I'd better get out of there."

— Glenn Ford 1916-2006, Gilda

Gilda is one of my favorites, but so too is The Blackboard Jungle. I'm sad.

"Be a smart shopper," my mother taught me.

I don't remember if she taught me that before or after she taught me, "Mickey Mantle was so cute, but he really was a sucker for a curve ball."

With her advice (about shopping, not about laying off the curve balls) in mind, I have expended a mere two vacation days: today and tomorrow. Including the weekend and Labor Day, that's five days off. Smart shopping.

More smart shopping:

Ensemble for brother's wedding: $123.90 including shipping (paid for by the estate of my late aunt).

Cute sparkly shoes to match ensemble: $12.75 (paid for with Mad Money)

Making a sweeping grand entrance in the living room: silly

Said entrance causing That Man of Mine to gasp audibly in genuine admiration: priceless

***

Can't Wait to Get to Heaven by Fannie Flagg: $25.95 retail, but borrowed from aforementioned smart-shopping mom

Kleenex™-brand facial tissues, family-size box: $1.29 plus tax.

Knowing that, yet again, another writer has trumped an idea I had for a novel, and done a far better job with it than I would've: frustrating

Knowing that Tot Whooten looks just like one of those snow monkeys on the Discovery Channel, eye makeup and all: priceless

Pink Floyd's Pulse on PBS: free, thanks to the almighty pledge drive

Me, watching Pink Floyd on the same station that brings me Nova, Antiques Roadshow, and Great Performances: old

Encore, including Comfortably Numb: priceless

Listening to encore, including singing along with Wish You Were Here, and substituting the words "So you think you can tell Heaven from Hell" with "So you think you can tell Kevin from Kell": back to silly

***

People who do mean things to you and apologize to everyone but you: idiots

Knowing these same people also believe in karma and, as such, they will, eventually, be royally fucked, no kiss punished: satisfying

***

Catching up on Cute Overload at 7:40 am, with earphones on so as not to wake That Man: free

Laughing out loud at this and waking him up anyway: priceless

Tomorrow is Cavort Day.

This is one of the few holidays in Golfwidowism, so I intend to make the most of it. Anyone who asks me to answer business emails, to return business calls, to just give them a few minutes of my time to answer some brief questions, or to help him to find a shirt in the vast halls and caverns of our one-bedroom condominium, is going to be told, sweetly, "I'm very sorry, but that's against my religion."

The festivities will not include dancing, because I am a spectacularly bad dancer and don't particularly enjoy it anyway.

However, there will be napping.

I am an awesome napper. I could nap with the best of them on Fox and win a contract, is what I'm saying. Simon Cowell thinks I'm such a great napper, he wants to sleep with me. That's not a euphemism for sex, it's his way of saying, "I'm exhausted with being talentless, yet judgmental all the time. Teach me your napping secrets, O Wise One."

My biggest problem with my awesome napping prowess is that it's kind of hard to fall asleep to the thundering applause and cheers for my performance.

You only think you could compete against me. I snore a little, but — here is the kicker — I don't drool at all. So kiss your Olympic dreams goodbye.

I haven't got a lot else scheduled for Cavort Day, but I will be having a nice lunch at 3:00 PM eastern time, which is yesterdayish if you're in New Zealand.

Outside if the weather permits, indoors with a quilt and a comfy seat by the window if not, so if anyone wants to "have lunch" with me, synchronize your watches. Tomorrow. 3 pm eastern. So if you're in California, it should be right around Real Lunchtime.

"Time is an illusion. Lunchtime, doubly so."

— Douglas Adams 1952-2001, The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy

I'm making my infamous peanut butter and strawberry preserves sandwich on Portuguese bread, with a side of carrot sticks and a glass of milk. Unless it rains, in which case I'll be having beef bologna on rye bread with deli-style mustard, side of onion soup and a glass of Sesame Street apple juice. (Rainy-day comfort food, brought to you by the woman who taught me to lay off the curve balls. And before you complain that there wasn't Sesame Street apple juice when I was a kid, let me just tell you that the original rainy day menu included Seneca apple juice, which is the same company, just without the picture of Big Bird on the label.)

Tags: Glenn Ford, Cavort Day

drinking: coffee (about 20¢ including coffee, filters, water, and soy milk)
listening to: Kino, All You See (from the album Picture: $16.98)
not having to go to work for five days: purr-iceless