Mar
07
2007
How To Break Things And Influence People
The second quickest way to ruin your relationship with a person you love is to get them to teach you to drive. The quickest is to get them to teach you to drive stick.
The second quickest way to ruin your relationship with a person you love is to get them to teach you to drive. The quickest is to get them to teach you to drive stick.
"Hey Hol, did you know that both 'indexes' and 'indices' are correct?"
"Uh, yes. Actually, I think I did know that."
"Well, don't you think that's kind of unfair?"
"Unfair? What do you mean, unfair?"
"Well, say you use 'indices' in conversation. Then people know that you know a little something, right?"
"Right."
In the hallway of my apartment building, where roughly thirty or forty people live, there is a large marble table.
(I do not mean, incidentally, that thirty or forty people live in the hallway of my apartment building, rather in the building itself, though I assume you're smart enough to figure that out for yourselves, and also, come on, think about it, how would thirty or forty people live in a hallway? I mean, that would be kind of awkward when someone needed to get undressed. Even for San Francisco.)
So the movie was fairly enjoyable, providing you were willing to suspend disbelief entirely, overlook several large plot flaws and loopholes, and admit to yourself that you were basically watching the poor man's Adaptation combined with the Cliff's Notes to Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, but what I really loved about Stranger Than Fiction---aside from the fact that it landed in my mailbox with minimum effort on my part, thanks to whichever handsome geek invented Netflix---was Maggie Gyllenhaal's hair.
Here are some things that normal people like and I don't: Most soups, Ben Affleck, American Idol, sushi, that guy with the long hair from Lost, Jolly Ranchers, Desperate Housewives, Chex mix, the movie "What Women Want," watermelon, watermelon-flavored things, grape-flavored things (but not grapes), and Las Vegas.
Until around 9:34pm this evening, I thought (foolishly) that this had been the best part of my day:
And then, during a commercial break in Grey's Anatomy, I discovered this. And just like that, my new spring coat---despite costing only $35 at H&M and also, I am quite sure, being the color of heaven itself---became the second best part of my day. How wrong I was before 9:34pm! How ill-informed!
Did I ever tell you about the time I met Dexter Holland from the Offspring and gave him my number in a bar? It was the Met Bar to be exact, which explains why Dexter Holland was there. God knows what I was doing in the Met Bar, but there I was.
Not that I wish to insinuate that I am constantly being hit on---indeed, it happens infrequently, so infrequently, in fact, that perhaps I should be offended---but I have been propositioned so wholly inappopriately twice in the last 24 hours that I am beginning to suspect a Public Service Announcement has been distributed, with a picture of me and a plea to please FLIRT BADLY WITH THIS GIRL IN SUDDEN AND UNCOMFORTABLE SITUATIONS.
