Monthly Archives: October 2008

Embarrassment in bulk

It was all his fault, really.

David Sedaris’s, I mean.  He brought it up, and after he said it, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. And that is what led to my undoing.

I attended his reading at Macky Auditorium in Boulder last night as part of a birthday present from my mom.  I love, LOVE David Sedaris and have everything he’s ever published.  I troll NewYorker.com for his most recent contributions, and when I imagine my future books, my hope is that he will deign to write an endorsement for me.  Something along the lines of “Davis’s work is literary gold!” Or, “She’s just like me, only not a gay man.  And funnier!”  Or even “There’s only room enough for one of us.  And Davis gets to stay.”

Don’t worry – my anti-hallicinatory pipe dream medication is being mailed to me shortly.

Clearly, I am a big Sedaris fan.

Last night I bought his new book – in hardcover – and lovingly clutched it to my chest throughout his reading. 

He read a story about undecided voters that cracked me up, a story about Nicaraguan-style French (note: I’m aware that this is not an actual style of French and you should probably be aware of that too.  Don’t go around telling people that this blog made you stupid.  If this blog makes anyone feel stupid, it is most certainly me.) that resulted in his naming a rabbit “Screened-in Patio” and entries from his diary that made me howl.

My personal favorite, though, was a story that involved Costco.   Costco, that shining city on the hill, full of all good things that come in boxes of two- four- and eight-hundred.  It was Costco beginning and end.  Costco and David Sedaris.  I was in heaven.

Heaven lasted about an hour and 45 minutes.  And, naturally, when he said he would be signing books after the show, I ran downstairs as fast as my tiny legs could carry me.  I johnnied right over to the line and was pleased to see that I was third.  THIRD in line.  Behind only two other people, and in front of millions!  SCORE! 

My feeling of euphoria quickly turned to panic, however, when I realized that I had just two people to figure out what witty and dazzling thing I was going to say in order to cement an international friendship and muse/mentor situation with my all-time favorite writer.  Just. Two. People.

“Do I say what a huge fan I am?  No, that’s lame.  Be funny!”

“Should I tell a joke?  No, jokes aren’t actually funny.  Be authentically funny!”

“Should I just be mysterious and aloof seeming?  That’s cool.  And rude.  Be nice!”

I cycled through a variety of behaviors and quips for a few minutes until I decided upon the always-safe motto, best for prisoners of war and Victorian-era children: only speak when spoken to. 

And then it was my turn.  David Sedaris beckoned me up to the table, and as I slid my new copy of When You Are Engulfed In Flames across the folding table to him, he looked me in the eye and spoke in that magical, elifin voice.

“Hello!”

“Um, hi!” I said, my face flushing a not-so-delicate shade of hot pink to match my pashima scarf.

“And you are…?”

“Hilary.  With just one L.”

“H-I-L-A-R-Y,” he spelled out, making an H that looked more like an M.  If David Sedaris wanted to call me Milary, that was cool with me.

“So, Hilary, what do you do?”

“I have a corporate job that sucks my soul…I mean, I’m in marketing…but not really…” I trailed off, already feeling completely, titanically awkard.

“That’s nice,” he said, as he drew something mysterious in my book. “Soo…” he said.

“Sooo…” I replied. 

And then I panicked.  David Sedaris was waiting for me to pick up the conversational slack, and I was just standing there, blushing, repeating him!

So I said the first thing that came to mind.  Which was not, sadly, “I love your work!” or “It’s nice out tonight!” or even the incredibly lame (but true) “I like your tie!”

Instead, I said “I love Costco, too!”

Yes, I decided to regale David Sedaris with my love for buying things in bulk. 

Have you tried the beef jerky on aisle three?  I hear it’s delicious today.

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Filed under My World, Woe To Me

Weekend Recap: In which I turned 24

Also in which:

– My sweet boyfriend, The Mister, took me to the Symphony for some Mozart, Williams, and Brahams.  Very thoughtful, very sweet, very pretty. And then, said boyfriend took me to a late night dinner (which is my very favorite kind) at the Oxford Hotel.  Very retro, very ’30s, very us.  Thanks for the birthday surprise, my goodly sir!

 

 

– Chach and I had coffee, took pictures of dogs dressed for Halloween, sniffed everything at the spice shop, and saw (and loved!) a movie that is too embarrassing to admit to seeing, even here on the Internet.  Sorry Internet!

– My cousin Connor was confirmed on my birthday morning.  He confirmed his belief in the lovely core Lutheran tenets of peace, grace, and love.  And thusly, also, by proxy, he has confirmed his belief in the other important Lutheran tenets: Jell-O, Vacation Bible School, tic-tac-toe on the back of the “I Prayed Today!” slips, and really really really strong coffee.

– Our future president Barack gave a rousing speech at my beloved alma mater CSU, on my favorite place on campus – The Oval – on my actual birthday day.  

Happy Birthday to ME!  More on this later.

– I had a lovely birthday dinner with the fam, followed by my customary birthday cake: funfetti.  Never gets old.  Nor will I ever get too old for funfetti.  

It’s a mutually beneficial relationship we have, that sprinkle cake and I.

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Filed under Family, Friends, Gentlemen Friends, My World

I can see clearly now

“How’s the whole contacts thing goin’ for you Hil?”

“Uh, well, I tried again and I cried again.  So, like any reasonable adult, I’ve decided to just quit trying. Until I’m a candidate for Lasik, I’m just going to get cute glasses and call it a day.

After all, every time I try my face gets so red and swollen that I looked like I’ve been punched in the face.”

“You could get some Sarah Palin glasses!  Those are cute!”

“No, because then I’d actually want someone to punch me in the face.”

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All the mavericks in the house throw ya hands up!

“HA!  HA HA!  Who is getting the last laugh now?  Me, and also, me!  Because Tina Fey has reared her head on SNL too many times, and also, I am more badass than she is, so I’m going to shore up my images by being on this here SNL show, here, and I will prove to you that I am totally cooler than Barack Obama AND John McSame…McCain, I mean, and because I come from an energy producing state, I will rear my head here on SNL and in the general direction also of Russia.  Also, I love shooting things.  Has anybody seen my special needs child?  Have I pimped him out enough yet today?  You have?  Okay then! Go America!”

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Not Martha

Before we get too ahead of ourselves here, I would like to say that there is a web site called Not Martha somewhere (NotMartha.com perhaps?) and I am eternally sad that I wasn’t able to get that domain name.  Because really, if you’ve read this site ever at all, you’d know that Not Martha is pretty much my middle name, no matter how (incredibly) hard I try to be a domestic goddess.

Anyway, I have a new tale from the Not Martha files which so perfectly highlights what my mom affectionately calls my “Domestic Retardation”.  Retarded in the actual sense of the word: slow.  Not fast. Takes all day to fold napkins, simmers things in the crock pot for days, sets up for dinner parties weeks in advance because that’s how long it takes me to set the table.  That sort of thing.

Apparently, I am also a slow reader as well.  To wit:

I made some Amish Sugar Cookies last night (five dozen to be precise – two dozen of which should have been on their way to a certain someone down by the bay [a certain someone who is looking a little thinner lately, BT-Dub, and I don’t like it AT ALL] by now) (also, before you ask, I’m not sure what makes them Amish exactly.  I briefly thought about making them without the use of electricity or swear words, but then I had another thought which laughed in the face of that thought.  It laughed and then it said “No way in hell is THAT going to happen.  HA!”  And so I resorted back to my preferred baking M.O.: the oven and a healthy sprinkling of F-bombs when situationally appropriate.)
 
(Wow so much punctuation just happened there.  What’s going on? Where are we?)
 
Anyway, upon performing perfunctory perfection tests, ie, a little Quality Control, I realized a smallfunny thing:  my cookies needed a little more vanilla.  And by a little more, I do, in fact, mean, ANY vanilla at all in the whole mixture.  Because I had forgotten to put it in.  At all.  So.  There you have it.  No more cookies for me, no more cookies for Duncan, and a whole jar of slightly weird tasting cookies for the enjoyment and bemusement (“doesn’t she usually make good cookies?  What are these?  I think I’m going to be sick!  My head huuuuuuuuurts!”) of my cookie-loving coworkers.

 

So, so sad.  My great grandmother – she of the always full jar of beautiful, perfect spritzer cookies – is sighing deeply in her grave right now, muttering to herself, “What about all the times we baked together?”

Sorry, Nonie.  You were baking, I was eating.  Um, so what else is new?

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Filed under Family, Woe To Me

I am here for you…with my awesome haiku skillz…Keep reading, yes please!

So, as it turns out, LP is really good at haiku writing, too.  Real good.  Like, rice-eating, kimono-wearing, I Can’t Believe She’s Not Asian! good. 

LP, I know I’m pimping you out on the interweb – or geisha-ing you out, if we’re to be in keeping with our politically incorrect and completely insensitive, mixed-up Asia theme here – so let me know if you object, but I absolutely have to post our exchange from this morning.  It’s just that good.

Internet, what you need to know is this: LP is quasi-dating a man from afar, who is soon to be even a-farther when he moves to Vegas, then England.  She dreamt of him last night, and needs help interpreting what went down.  Even though what LP really needs is a blog.  Let’s all pressure her into it, shall we?

Here it is, LP’s dream about her quasi-dater and my analysis of it, ancient Japanese style.  Enjoy.

I had a bad dream

Now I am in a bad mood

A terrible start

 

I was with Mike Mark

He made out with someone else

We were at dinner

 

I just sat and watched

And I poked him on the leg

He kept making out

 

I finally left

And went to our hotel room

He followed me up

 

I tried to reason

And explain why that was bad

He thought it was fine

 

I was so confused

He was sorry, but not much

It never ended

 

I finally woke

No closure, disappointment

What does that dream mean?

 

_____________

 

I had one like this

He was dating another

And he told me so       

 

I was just so hurt

I woke with tears in my eyes

Thank God – just a dream!

 

My analysis:

You are falling for him – hard

Emotions are high

 

You fear he will leave

And your subconscious knows this

So it tries to warn

 

Your mind, it reasons

But your heart has passion, and

Dare I say…feelings?

 

You must weigh heart, mind

What makes sense in your life now?

You must do what’s right

 

Where will you end up?

With Mike Mark, so far away?

Or is your life here?

 

To gambling and sin!

To Burberry and brew pubs!

(Thank God – no ‘taters)

 

Only you can know

But I’m here for you always

Go Dunbar!  Snacks please?

 

 

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Filed under Gentlemen Friends, My World, Quotes

The spirit of Japan: Office Edition

No one is here today.  My office is empty.  I am hating this place more than usual.

And so, to adequately convey my pain and boredom, a series of office haikus for you:
 
My office is beige
My life is so sad and blue
I wish I weren’t here
 
Man* has left this place
My entertainment is gone
What shall I blog now?
 
I hunger for snacks
But the machine is empty
Just like my soul is
 
We’re having dinner
Alas, eight hours from now
I’d like fries with that

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Filed under Woe To Me, Work