tired of the big so-so
I leave for DC today for my board meeting, and although I think it will be a boring-as-hell weekend I am excited about seeing some different scenery for a little while. Especially since it is doubtful whether I will take a big vacation this year, due to a general temporary microeconomic (ie, my own personal household) downturn and my lacking the mental energy to really sit down and budget and plan for such a thing. It is weird, we had such a frenzied travel spurt after living abroad: Egypt and India and multiple London trips and such, and then last year, except for work-related jaunts and the weekend in Brighton, was very home-based. I spent some time with Rough Guide Italy, dreaming, but I never managed to put anything together.
Anyway, this morning I dragged my little wheelie suitcase out of the storage room (although I have not put anything in it yet), and I made LT promise that he would get up early to make me an omelet before I leave for the airport, because I love the homemade omelet but I am hopeless at doing it myself, I never got the hang of the flippety flip and so my omelets are more like “flat scrambled eggs with stuff on top.”
And then I will be off in the Power Suit to look at spreadsheets and listen to people talk, and LT will start his Bachelor Weekend. It will probably involve lots of bourbon and Johnny Cash and a very minimal amount of wearing pants.
REJECTED TV SERIES
Road(kill) Rules: Five sorority girls and five hunky college guys spend three months scooping up dead animals along the interstates. They roadkill-scoop their way across America! They sleep in a camper van! They never, ever shower! See squabbles, maggots, trash-talking, bikinis and work gloves! And just maybe…love?
Vasectomy 2003: Medical shows are always very popular with certain demographics. An hour of guys in sweatpants putting icepacks to their groins is going to be great.
eXtremely Confrontational Jeopardy: “WHO IS ALEX DE TOCQUEVILLE? [snicker] Oh, you pathetic worm. Why don't you crawl back to your piss-streaked trailer home and continue raising your passel of idiot children. No, you didn't even get the century right. Get out of here with your $0.00 winnings before I kick you out.”
Cute Baby Animal News: I am sick of murder, war, weather, and sports, aren't you? Awww. Look at that.
Saved By The Bells, Bells, Bells, Bells, Bells: Wacky hijinks ensue when Edgar Allan Poe is resurrected, transported forward to our time, and enrolled in a Baltimore public high school. (Or maybe we should set in the the 1980s. Can't you just see E. A. Poe wearing a shirt that says RELAX or CHOOSE LIFE?)
Maury Povich Beatdown: Watch the moron “investigative journalist” cry big fat baby tears in the name of investigative journalism. He likes the hard-hitting reality stories.
Maury Povich Eating A Nice Turkey Sandwich: (The network executives had some issues.)
My So-Called Dentist: He is not a real dentist, but don't tell our contestants!
Tiny Henry Rollins In A Jar: Sitcom. Henry Rollins is shrunk to the size of a cricket and put in a jar by an adorable six-year-old girl with pigtails. She gives him a stick to climb on and another stick to bench press and she loves him very much. Every episode ends with a self-glorifying spoken word piece and a Macintosh product placement.
On the way to dinner + a bar last night I saw a combination dry cleaners and tanning salon at Racine and Altgeld. Really. Do they ever get equipment mixed up? And leave someone with a golden brown suitcoat and a starched ass?
Okay. I am going. Enjoy the dirty foreign book covers. I will see you when I return and we can have a less puny entry then.
—mimi smartypants remembers when Michael Stipe had hair.