8.31.01

My favorite parts of Stephen King’s On Writing:

On writing seminars:

“It seems to occur to few of the attendees that if you have a feeling you just can’t describe, you might just be, I don’t know, kind of like, my sense of it is, maybe in the wrong fucking class.”

On becoming a cub sports reporter:

“I told Mr. Gould that I didn’t know much about sports. Gould said, ‘These are games people understand when they’re watching them drunk in bars. You’ll learn if you try.’”

10:01 a.m.

8.30.01

Ladies night excerpts:

Lady 1: So he said he wasn’t gonna date her anymore because she wasn’t a good lay. So I said, “I’m curious, what’s a bad lay from a guy’s viewpoint?” And he goes (spreads legs, adopts blank look).

Lady 2: So it’s not that she wasn’t a good lay, it’s just that “lay” was her only trick.

Lady 3: The Dissected Frog.

Lady 1: Did you guys hear that Mr. Rogers isn’t doing shows anymore?

Lady 2: Yeah. That sucks.

Lady 3: I have a signed picture of Mr. Rogers.

Lady 1: No way.

Lady 3: Mmm hmm. My dad met him once.

Lady 4: Wouldn’t it be rad to get Mr. Rogers to sign your panties or something?

Lady 5: I wonder if he’d do it.

(Pensive silence.)

Lady 1: He’s kind of boastful. We’re going around introducing ourselves, and he’s saying the exact same thing to every person. I heard it like 30 times. That’s OK if you’ve known someone a couple years, you expect to hear their stories again. But I barely know him. When you’ve known a person a few years you know all their stories, and when they meet someone new you can kind of settle into doing your own thing while they talk. But this guy I just met, and I’m hearing the same thing over and over and over. Then, I started getting sarcastic about it, like filling in responses for him, and he didn’t get it.

All: Ohhh nooooo.

11 a.m.

8.30.01

Last Friday was Julie’s birthday. She wanted to go see “The Vagina Monologues,” so we got tickets. For a few hours we listened appreciatively as three women reenacted interviews with hundreds of women talking about their vaginas. When the lights came up, I was entirely too aware that everyone around me had genitalia. Then we went home.

12:05 a.m.

8.28.01

Overheard: Somebody done somebody wrong.

Characters: Two teenage girls on the bus.

Girl 1: You got to call her.

Girl 2: Well, she say she saw her leave with some man.

Girl 1: Call her.

Girl 2: If she didn’t see up close, how she know it was Amid?

Girl 1: Uh-uh! You got to call her.

3:16 p.m.

8.27.01

The guys over at The Morning News just published a very brief interview with me (bottom right corner, second column).

11:01 a.m.

Went backpacking this weekend, and cursed my lack of penis.

Me: Are you peeing again?

Him: Yep, and I don’t even need to.

Me: Damn you.

Him: I’m just doing it because the convenience overwhelms me.

Me: Bastard.

10:49 a.m.