2003-05-02|11:55 a.m.
My last dream before I awoke to this fine day was:
I was buying snacks for some event that I never got the chance to go to because I woke up. In my hands were some kettle chips, licorice and a Snapple and I was walking with my old friend Denise, who I haven�t seen since seventh grade, to the checkout counter at a drugstore. The cashier was Gwyneth Paltrow. For some reason, we knew each other, but being a famous actress and all, she acted all annoyed by my presence. I chatted a bit with her about how she�s been doing and where she�s been because I haven�t seen her in awhile-- all as she pulls my three items across the red laser and totals out my transaction. I vividly remember trying to pay with my credit card and then stopping and pulling out my ATM card instead (boring details aren�t just in here, let me tell ya). As she rings out my grade school friend, I tell her I am excited to see her playing Sylvia Plath in the new movie about the author, which is a big fat lie, because I�ve been complaining about it for a month now. But, I guess I am such a sucker for celebrities that I am willing to praise them despite of my true feelings. As we leave she almost seems annoyed that we talked to her. Then it all occurs suddenly to me that if she�s such a great actress then why in the hell was she just doing my job?
That�s not even worth analyzing, huh?
Hey, I don�t really watch TV, but I was wondering about two shows I hear a lot about. What are CSI and Gilmore Girls about? For some reason, I have this impression that CSI is like a Law and Order type show or some kind of crime show and Gilmore Girls is some wholesome (read in: boring to me) show about a girl coming of age, perhaps a show much like 7th Heaven or something. But, I have a feeling that I am totally wrong (a feeling I have often).
I think that I want to live in San Diego forever. The weather is perpetually perfect no matter what time of year it is. If that ever gets boring, I can just drive a couple hours to Big Bear and spend time with friends where it is either scorching hot or snowing.
I would want a small house here that was made in the 50�s and has only a couple rooms on a half and acre or acre lot full of grass. There�s this amazingly cute house I pass by when I drive to Abe�s house that I am in love with. It�s white and square and looks like it has two bedrooms. On the house, they�ve got a couple green porch lights which remind me of the green light on the porch of the house in the Great Gatsby. On the side of their house is a garden with about three rows of vegetables. I want that.
Props to my peeps:
I was thinking about all the brilliant people that I know. And it occurred to me that just about everyone that I like is much smarter than I am. This doesn�t bother me. I like that idea that I am lucky enough to be around and interact with a bunch of smarty pants all the time. It�s even apparent to me in diaryland. I know, just online: an aspiring comic author who lives in NYC (it takes total brains just to be able to pay for that, believe me), a computer/software programmer that lives in SF who is not only handsome but also has the brains to boot, a woman who lives in Colorado that knows all about herbs and non-traditional healing and has a wonderful sense of humor and compassion, a college girl who is learning to speak Russian and flies kites (how cool is that?), a beautiful and charming Canadian who is quite dexterous in craft making and shares my scholarly pursuit, a published poet and web artist who is always writing brilliant things about existentialism and such, a super cute girl who lives in LA and manages a store while also going to college and uses words like �ululating� that I am forced to look up, a woman with a Masters in English who reads more news than I thought could be humanly possible and is kind enough to share it with us, a girl who I believe lives in Chicago and says insightful and poetic things like, �one is that i decided that the reason i dodge worms on sidewalks after rainstorms is NOT that i'm kind-hearted and care�but because i have a big head and hate thinking of my body as a death machine in smurf village,� a girl in Texas who is quite talented at writing the dialogue of her life, a guy who will soon be famous in Hollywood (that�s exciting), a New Zealander that comes up with groundbreaking interpretations of Shakespeare�s plays, a hostess to a restaurant who has the most talented way of telling the most hilarious stories about her male roommates and work happenings, and last but certainly not least, my Georgian pal who makes magic with computers and is about as famous as you get on diaryland for telling amazingly funny stories. And those are just people I know online.
I am also friends with: a very talented filmmaker who will soon make super smart documentaries, an aspiring screen writer who is already working in Hollywood as an apprentice, a Jeopardy playing genius who will make the world�s best elementary school teacher, a PhD student studying political economy and can out drink anyone I know, a healer with a brain full of wisdom and hands full of love (ok, that�s corny, but not dishonest, either), a Harvard Law student who makes me wrack my brain about the patterns within or of life (don�t ask) and philosophy, the funniest writer of news and entertainment (and fake horoscopes) and because of that will soon be Editor in Chief of her college paper, a soon to be lung doctor, and many others that I�ve been blessed to know.
I don�t know why I felt compelled to do that. I just think about it all the time and thought that it needed to be brought out of my head and onto my diary here, I suppose.
Thanks.
this time last year