Well, the good news is that today we all got an unexpected half-day from Sophie! Hooray! For that very reason, I am now at home, sipping mint juleps and eating bon-bons. Okay, that�s a lie. I�m sipping water and eating a piece of toast, but as opposed to working, that�s just fine by me.
The bad news? Actually, there isn�t really any �bad� news. I didn�t sleep too well last night, because I had these bizarre dreams about paratroopers falling from the sky, and me getting kidnapped by Denzel Washington and Dennis Hopper (?), and then there was this whole weird bit about a baby and I was accused of some kind of crime, and Helen Mirren was smuggling diamonds�I have no idea where the fuck that all came from, but it has all the makings of a Hollywood smash hit! Look what tremendous casting my dreams have!
So the other day I received an email from my long-lost friend Rachel, which was very cool. I think the last time I saw her was New Year�s Eve, 2001, so it was kind of a blast from the past. What makes it a little supernatural, though, is that the night before -- as I was nodding off to my star-studded, action-packed sleep -- I started thinking of Rachel and her visit that fateful New Year�s Eve. We went to a bar to hang out, but it was full of greasy old people, so we went to a different bar, and it was full of greasy young people, and finally we just went to an all-night restaurant. I mean, do we know how to party, or what?
Anyway, what truly makes this occurrence serendipitous and a touch surreal is that this isn�t the first time it�s happened. In fact, before the tail end of 2001, I hadn�t seen Rachel for nearly two years! But, on Thanksgiving, after sating myself with turkey and potatoes and that jiggling red stuff (INTESTINES!)(just kidding -- I mean cranberry sauce), my thoughts turned unaccountably toward Rachel and her fabled exploits. I began regaling KillerWorkout with tales of what I like to call Rachel�s Greatest Hits.
For example? The time three stupid underage kids tried to get her to buy cigarettes for them. They gave her their money, so she bought a candy bar and went to a movie. And I�m sorry, but that�s what you deserve when you blindly give your money to a strange woman with a chip on her shoulder. I told him about the time that Rachel got into a fight with her roommate, and exacted a creative (and downright hilarious) revenge by fashioning 13 tiny nooses and hanging the girl�s Beanie Baby collection from the ceiling of their dorm room.
There a dozen more stories just like those that I could tell, because Rachel is That Girl. In any case, it wasn�t but the very next day when my phone rang and a familiar voice -- one I hadn�t heard in about two years -- sounded in my ear. So you see, there�s a wacky precedent for this, and I�m at a loss to explain it. Perhaps it�s just coincidence (although I�ve established before that I don�t really believe in coincidences), but I find it quite intriguing.
I haven�t had a chance to write her back yet, but when I do, I�ll be sure to fill you all in on what that crazy girl�s been doing with herself. In the meantime, have a happy Fourth of July, all y�all that celebrate it! And for those that don�t, have a happy (belated) Canada Day, and a happy (prompt) Palio � Corsa di cavalli (whatever the heck that is -- it�s on my calendar, but there�s no explanation or whatever).
Someone Got Here By Searching For: �dumped for someone else� I�m Reading: The new Entertainment Weekly. And Listening To: One hell of a screaming match happening in one of the neighboring apartment buildings. That shit always makes me nervous for some reason.