I wasn't initially going to show you, but then I suddenly thought about how awful it would be if some natural disaster befell me tonight and I never got to share with you my picture of The Longest Hair In The World, which was attached to the head of a girl walking in front of me in Yangon in Burma, and which I followed for several blocks in order to record in all its glory.
I'm incredibly unsporty. Think of the sportiest person you can picture, Tiger Woods, maybe, or Michael Jordan, and then multiply that by a hundred and then reverse it, and that's me. The only way I can get myself to the gym is if I join one that has Aveda products in the showers, and I'll only do that because there aren't any other people around whom I have to throw to or pass to or catch things from.
I've been meaning to tell you, Internet, that your Christmas shopping just isn't going to do itself. And I don't care if it's November, you need to get organized now. Why?
So last night, our doorbell rang and my sister Susie went to answer it. There were two little girls outside, maybe eight or nine, and one of them was wearing a light on her head. You know, kind of like the surgeons put on when they're going in to do open heart surgery, or maybe like you wear at night when you go camping, but only if you're the sort of person who owns a clip-on tie and several Celine Dion CDs and maybe also has NEW POCKET PROTRACTOR! written at the top of your Christmas list. Added in September and underlined twice.
At a loss for something to do today, my sister and I wandered into The Body Shop and started trying on all the testers. (Please, I'd like you to memorize this line and repeat it back to yourself the next time you find yourself thinking how exciting my life in Singapore must be.)
For the last few days, my parents have been in India. My dad had a business trip there, and my mother's mission was to prove how much she loved me by buying me multiple pairs of sparkly bejeweled shoes. I drew around my foot on a piece of paper before she left and then cut around it, so that she'd be able to place my stand-in "foot" inside each pair of shoes to see if they were going to fit properly.
Dear Sara,
This is probably strange, getting fan mail from a girl, but I just wanted to say "hi" and tell you that I think you're really great on the show. I can't believe you work with Johnny Galecki! What's he like? Seriously, I am so addicted to your show, 'cos I live in England and the TV isn't that great, and Roseanne is the best programme I've watched ever!
When I lived in Connecticut, and also San Diego, and also Charleston, a disturbing number of people would ask me whether we had Thanksgiving in England. And after I had stared at them incredulously for a few seconds to figure out whether or not they were joking (they never were), I would urge them to think about why we didn't have Thanksgiving in England, WHY THAT MIGHT NOT BE LIKELY, and I'd be met, invariably, with a blank stare.
