Note from SxSW, 2005:
Say you go to bed drunk. What are the odds you’ll be woken by real, live jackhammers?
Tag: observations
Propinquity
Notes I took on a napkin two years ago in a New York City park:
Waiting for Andrew
-Woman polishes her shoes with a tissue
-Rottweiler drinking from his owner’s water bottle
-Large man listens to his iPod; his pant cuffs pull up to reveal his ankles with each step.
-People, strangers, sit closer here.
God Bless America, Please
When we travel internationally, my favorite part of coming home is customs. I look at the U.S. citizens’ line, and I’m always amazed at how similar it looks to the non-citizens’ line. Americans have roots all over the world, but we’ve found a home together here.
Like every big nation, we have problems, but we also have some vast cultural differences to bridge. Here’s to our shared freedoms, our gorgeous country, and our communal struggle to figure things out.
Happy Independence Day, fellow Americans. I like you guys.
Open Letter
Dear Woman Who Just Left This Bathroom Stall,
What the holy hell happened in here? My brain is racing through the possibilities. Did you splay starfish-style against the walls of the stall and misfire from above? Did you decide to practice a little yoga while you had some down time?
Only moments ago, we made eye contact as you passed; I noted your cute shoes. And now here I stand, preparing to wipe one-half-gallon of your urine off my toilet seat.
How was this spatter pattern physically possible? Did you stand over the seat under the misimpression that you have a penis? Clearly you do not have a penis. Territorial drunk men with prostate issues have better aim than you.
If you continue to do this, leave filthy messes for complete strangers despite being in your late thirties, eventually someone will point it out. I hope they will point it out by slamming open the stall, grabbing you by the scruff of your neck, and pushing your nose up to the toilet seat, while shouting, “No! NO! Baaaad stranger! Baaaaaad!”
In the meantime, I’ll be here with half a roll of toilet paper wrapped around my hand, mopping up a grown woman’s pee-pee.
Sincerely,
Margaret Mason
Yes Hans, I Totally Do
In the lobby of the Felix Meritis in Amsterdam:
“There are no trusted wireless networks here, do you want to join HANSNET?”
The Coolest Thing You Could Say
You arrive at the Las Vegas airport with a group of exhausted, hung-over bachelorettes. You sleepwalk through check in, and slouch together at the gate in indoor sunglasses and smoke-stale tank tops. There is a collective sigh.
“Fuck. I have so much blogging to catch up on.”
Hank Has Jetlag
Little burbling baby? The only people in Amsterdam who are awake and happy at 3:30 a.m. are high or cavorting with prostitutes. Go to bed, kid.
Advice
We head back to Amsterdam Tuesday. On our last visit I was oblivious to my new state of pregnancy, which made me very moody (you may recall the Midget Busker Incident). I’m hoping the entire city won’t seem so vaguely uncomfortable this time around. Of course, this time we’ll have a baby with us, so perhaps that’s wishful thinking. Speaking of which, comments on taking international flights with infants and “Amsterdam with a baby” ideas would be much appreciated.
You Don’t Want to See Those Results
Me: Oh man, have you seen that You Tube video with the little kid who’s freaking out because he thinks his baby sister is hurt?
Ev: No.
Me: It’s so hilarious and sweet. You have to see it.
Ev: (walks over to desktop)
Me: OK, how will we find it? Search for like, “baby” and “blood.”
Ev: (furrows brow, fingers poised over keyboard)
Me: My bad. Better add in “not funny.”
Campari Bottle Light Fixture
We had Mother’s Day brunch at Barndiva in Healdsburg where I spotted these fantastic Campari-bottle light fixtures. A friend of mine used empty Campari bottles as bud vases for big white lilies at her wedding, and I’ve seen them used to hold swizzle sticks or long fireplace matches. This light fixture takes the prize. I love beautifully designed objects with a sense of humor.
Mighty Girl 