mimi smartypants
Seriously, though: what's with the penguins?

superfine system


Unlike some other attendees, I simply am unable to wax philosophical about sisterhood and such as a result of my Broad Summit experience. I get all deep-n’-meaningful when it suits me, but mostly about things like waffle fries and volume controls. I’ll sum up the weekend by saying that it was very relaxing and fun, and that my roommate could not have been cooler. We had serious slumber-party syndrome each night. (“Okay. Dude. Seriously. We should sleep now.”) There are some good photos here and here, not taken by me.

I had to leave earlier than most other summit-ers, and to avoid driving an unfamiliar car in an unfamiliar state to an unfamiliar airport, I decided to throw money at the problem and get a car service to take me back to my return flight. The driver was a nice enough sort, despite being a Chargers fan. But I had an amusing (to me) Countess de Lesseps moment after I finished a cell phone call with my mother and he commented on something I had said. Secretly I thought something like EXCUSE ME, DRIVER, REMEMBER YOUR PLACE. I wanted him to at least pretend he wasn’t listening! I got over myself in about two seconds but still, I had no idea I was capable of such a snooty aristocratic knee-jerk reaction. Too much invitation-only internet gathering went to my head! But now I am back here with my cans of Miller High Life, Target-brand shampoo, and very deliberate B-list-ness, so no worries.


1. Another round of lunch-hour volunteerism with all the little nerds at Nora’s school. I poked straws into milk cartons, helped open those impossible yogurt tubes, and fielded questions like, “Why do you wear so much black?” I am too goth for first grade, apparently. I also settled an argument about how many “g power” points a particular Bakugan had by pointing out that the toy in question was not a regular Bakugan but a Bakugan Trap, which do not have g-power points. Both boys just stared at me in admiration and I could almost see their eyeballs transform into heart shapes, like in the cartoons.

2. Saw Dinosaur Jr! And they were awesome! I confess to listening to more or less the whole show without earplugs. Irresponsible! But I took them out experimentally at one point and it was so much more exciting unfiltered, so I decided to LIVE DANGEROUSLY. It was nice to see Lou Barlow rock out instead of being his melancholy Folk Implosion/solo self. God I love Lou Barlow. I would like a Lou Barlow of my very own. I would pet him and give him lots of treats and exercise. By the way, this is a separate idea from Henry Rollins in a jar. I would like the Lou Barlow to be a bit larger, so he could sit in my lap and watch television. Plus I would not point and laugh at him the way I would the tiny Rollins.

3. Slacked on the couch while Nora knocked herself out making this horror comic.


Cover. Supposedly the wavy lines under the title are “to make it scarier.”


Here you can see the evil blob eating two people, one of whom looks decidedly bummed about his fate.


Didn’t Book Beast destroy houses too? What is with Nora and houses being destroyed?


Oh my god! Not dogs!

Wait, I almost forgot the very best part, the back cover!


She blurbed it! Nora explained to me that a book will sometimes tell you what it’s about on the back cover, so you can decide if you want to read it or not. I like this synopsis, it gives you plot details (evil blob eating things) and instructs you how to feel (have a scare!)

Later that day, Nora wanted to adapt her book into a film. Boy those movie rights were snapped up quick! I obliged by volunteering for puppet duty.

4. Rewatched the original “creepy child” movie, The Bad Seed.  This is a great movie for the 1950s melodrama, for the big “reveal” that blames the whole thing on genetics in a totally predictable “blood is destiny” twist, and for the horrifying child-hating post-credits bit. But my favorite thing this time around was the character names. Rhonda! Claude! Hortense! Quick, somebody name their baby “Hortense.” I dare you.

5. Gave up on medicating my crazy, obsessive-fur-licking, unable-to-be-alone cat. Rocko is noncompliant with his Prozac, which we received in poultry-flavored “treat” format. He will not eat it straight. If you mush it up in his food he just ignores the food. It is all very Cuckoo’s Nest around here. I suppose I could get it in pill form and just ram the meds down his throat each day, but he is already stressed and anxious and I am reluctant to add to that. Talk therapy has been useless but petting seems to help a little.

6. Had many dreams. The following are taken directly from my bedside notebook:

  1. I write a children’s book called Stuffed Full of Cow: A Barbecue Story.
  2. A big black horse is very rude to me.
  3. I go to a party at the house of Melanie Brown and it is full of breastfeeding mothers. Every time I go to the bathroom or to get another beer I am tripping over someone with a cloth thrown over her shoulder and an infant at her boob, and they are all very crabby at being interrupted because apparently the breastfeeding is not going all that well, and after a while I think, “Gee this party is no fun at all.”
  4. I am naked in a hotel room watching a television talk show and Reese Witherspoon is on explaining how she turned the shower stall in her guest bathroom into a giant kitty litter box. I am disgusted. [When I woke up I was even more disgusted that my brain gave sleep-time to Reese Witherspoon. I don’t think I could even pick her out of a crowd.]

—mimi smartypants said so.

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