A Farewell to Arms or Who the Hell Are You?!

sadly, today i had to bid farewell to the bidet.

also, in theory, to annie, who failed to show up today to actually say good-bye to me in person. and this after our conversation yesterday that went as so:

(after a lunch where annie asked me questions and then interrupted my answers to talk to random strangers traipsing across the grass who were apparently more interesting than me. and now you know why annie and i are friends.)

annie: okay, i have to run to a meeting (said while looking to the sky, to the ground, anywhere but at me directly).

me: okay. will i see you again before i go? (reaching out to her physically with my hands and emotionally with my eyes to try to capture the moment)

annie: yeah, i'll see you tomorrow. high five.

*slapping of hands*

me: okay, see you, chump (looking wistfully over my shoulder at her as she disappeared into a building).

and just like that, i never saw her again. yes, it was yesterday, so how do i know i'll never see her again. did i put a hit out on her life? no, my friends, that is too time consuming. plus, if i'm going to murder someone, i want to get my hands dirty.

i mean, the thing with annie is that her memory is that of a goldfish. and not just any goldfish, but a radioactive goldfish that never had a chance because its brain is half pudding (J-E-L-L-O!) and therefore remembers significantly less than other goldfish:

yes, annie is constantly probing me (not like that, play doh boy) for "topeka gossip" even though she doesn't remember anyone from topeka. in fact, i'm not even sure she remembers where topeka is located on a map:

so, the likelihood that she will remember that we're good friends is slim to none. she's probably already forgotten my name. which is sad because i kinda like her. we get along well, and she's sort of an alcoholic, which makes me feel like less of a lush. but, these things happen, and i have to let her go.

so, let's raise our glasses to the bidet. i mean, to annie:

(to annie)

Act I or How I Quit My Day Job

okay, i am finally concluding, as debbie and becky already have, that inextricably linking our three blogs is problematic. i am forced to write, even if i have nothing to say or don't feel like it. it's like a throw back to college. or high school. or middle school. elementary school was alright. beautiful building and all:



but since we can't all be randolph raiders forever, it's time to grow up and talk about grown up things.

i've decided to write a screenplay. i don't know yet what the screenplay will be about, and as far as i know i have no idea how to write a screenplay, but how difficult can it be? i mean, if gigli can be a movie, i can write a movie. plus, we all know that i like to write parts for people, such as:

you: you're thinking of writing a screenplay i hear.

me: yes, that's right. who told you?

you: you did, just now. via blog.

me: wow, word travels fast around here....

as you can see, i'm well on my way. i already know how to break up lines by who is saying them. also, i can do stage directions.

(erin enters from the front room and sits gingerly on the couch, feet up on the glass-topped coffee table. she pulls out the laptop and opens it. mara enters and brings her a drink.)

i've got it! i'll write a screenplay about a girl who starts a blog and how that sets off this whole crazy series of blog-related events and then something happens and it's resolved. brilliant!

wait, no, that other thing. boring.

hm.... maybe instead of writing a screenplay, i will use my witch-like powers to make people do my bidding by writing about it. (example: mara just brought me a drink because i wrote that she would. only, she actually brought it before i wrote that, which is how i knew to write it.). okay, let's try it out....

(annie hsu shakes her head slowly and thinks to herself, erin has finally lost it. i should send her a present. or possibly go visit her. or get her a job at my company.)

now, we just have to wait and see if that worked.....

doo be doo...

dum de dum....

la de da...

zippity do dah?

it's taking too long for annie to do my bidding, which makes me think that MAYBE this isn't working. or, maybe it is and she's just really slow (like in a condescending, wink, wink, pat her head kind of way.) i guess it's on to plan b.

i'll let you know when i figure out what plan b is. better yet, you devise plan b and fill me in later. right now, it's time for buffy.