Judge: As the acts depicted in the video for Chingy's "Holidae Inn" bear no resemblance to anything to ever occur at an actual Holiday Inn location, I am dismissing this suit as without merit. Case closed.
Everyone (excepting the Holiday Inn suits) cheers. Chingy, Snoop Dog, and Ludacris embrace. A single tear rolls down Snoop's cheek. They all walk out arm-in-arm with the hot baliff.
"Six years of algebra just isn't enough!" she said.
I tried to explain that I really had already done my time and that I was just back to catch up on some English, but she wasn't having any of it. And then the new guidance counsellor whooshed me to her office and tried to talk to me about becoming a more spiritual student. Whaa?
That's right, Trot. Here he is with his lovely wife and a picture of one of their children.
Route 2 is a gorgeous corridor of leaves, ranging from green to every shade of red my hair has ever been. And what did I find in our shred of a backyard the other day but GRAPES! Not on the ground or anything, deliberately growing on a vine on a tiny trellis. How come my neighbors and I never talk about plants? Grapes!
Here's a site that tells you weekenders where to go.
But also, people should accept that I know more than them about this stuff. Cos I do.
And I thought they would have been supportive. Santa, you win again.
"But Lauren," you must be thinking, "you have the most comfortable mattress in existence!"
Yes, dear readers, but imagine what I'd be like if I didn't!
I had a most enlightening Thai meal with Yuval from WW. We talked about lovelling, spiciness, beers, and a handful of other things I that don't get nearly enough airtime. Not to mention the super super drunken noodles that Nine Taste produces. Mmmmmm....
Mussina, are you falling apart? I hope you do it on your own, as your name is too long to fit on my boys' jackets
If it is you, why not click the little e-mail me link over there -----> and send me something.
If it isn't you, you have an internet fanclub. Congratulations!
Your pal,
Lauren K
Secondly, Oh, Johnny!
You'll notice what picture isn't here. I formally apologize a hundred times for every occasion on which I have wanted two fielders to collide, no matter how important it was for them to miss the ball. It's going to be a hard habit to break, but I never want to see anything like that again. I sure hope everyone is OK.
Third, Sigh:
We'll miss you William Steig.
It seems like just yesterday I was excitedly showing someone your latest book and talking about how vibrant and lively a nonogenarian you were. Turns out it was the day before.
Fourth, VICTORY!:
Once again, you (The Red Sox) are all invited over for brunch. Not that you were ever uninvited, I just wanted to reiterate. Also, let me hug you. Also, underhanded pitching is ugly. Also, Derek Lowe, you rule.
Was there something else? I'm sure there was, but that's what you get for not being able to post when you think of it. Grrr. My new sweater smells like perfume, and I'm already sneezy. Not a good sign. And I left my most comfortable shoes in Acton. But none of this is important right now.
Blog-city, you have been broken a lot during the last 24 hours or so. I hope that it's over.
Also, he owes it all to WIFFLE BALL! Nixon, you can come over any time and I will drop it all to play wiffle ball with you. And then we can have brunch. Your nice wife can probably come too.
YAAAAAAAAAAY!!!!
In my baseball movie, should it ever come about, there will be no intentional walking.
The Yankees just won their game against the Twins. I don't know what to think. Some part of me always wants the Twins to win, eventhough I have no stake in anything Minnesota. Then again, I would really like the Red Sox to beat the Yankees in the playoffs. Then again, I would like the scratches in the side of my car to magically heal themselves. And I would really like to be a pilot.
But back to intentional BS walks... cruddy cruddy cruddy. I think there should be a monetary fine every time a team chooses to pitch around someone. Or the offensive player who was IW'ed gets two bases. Or a cake. One base is simply not enough. Or the other team gets to switch anyone they want into the next spot after their scary power hitter was walked. ANYONE THEY WANT. Meaning the guy on third, someone from the other team, me, or someone they have to bring back from the dead.
I take it back, there will be intentional walking in my baseball movie. There will be an hilarious (tee hee) scene where the Mexican farm players intentionally walk everyone on the All-Star team. And then the US guys will teach the Mexicans how to hit when they are being pitched around. And the Mexican All-Stars will never intentionally walk anyone ever when they play in the Real World Series.
Dammit.
Also, Derek Lowe has a lot to be upset about. Derek Lowe takes number two from every dum-dum in this mickey-fickey neighborhood. But
THIS PICTURE
has got to be the worst thing ever.
Jim seems to think D. Lowe isn't a goat. Maybe. But I'd still be mad if that were my picture. Derek, you are charming, talented, and literate. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise.
Speaking of goats though, I have rediscovered
Gregory the Terrible Eater,
which is a remarkable book. Goats are great, no?
Love,
Lauren, fan either way, dummies
An older gentleman asked today if my gigantic engagement ring was from an Arab oil sheik. I giggled.
If you buy the Old Fashioned Tomato Rice soup at Au Bon Pain, you will learn two things. The first: it is reduced sodium. The second: it requires more salt.
Tomorrow Lauren is in high-demand. And today I answered a lot of questions about chapter books for a lady with the Horn Book. And maybe you'll be proud or maybe you'll be disappointed, but I did not pester this lady about the Maira Kalman Horn Book event. I didn't even bring it up. But Ms. Book seemed to think that I am a superstar of the bookstore world, which is always nice to hear. Especially when you see no forseeable end to being in the bookstore world.
Some other lady made me give her a lot of recommendations as I was very obviously on my way to lunch, jacket (hey look, I remembered a jacket; happy Rocktober!) and bag and everything. She got her advice, and I told her that now I needed her advice on where to eat lunch. She told me she works for Harvard, therefore eats for free, therefore had no idea. Special no thank you to her.
And LAST NIGHT there was a guy who called the store for a mail order, and made me wait on a 3-way call to his daughter-in-law in D.C. and didn't tell her I was lurking in phonespace. It was like a flashback to junior high where you call your friend and then you call the boy and your friend stays quiet and you ask the boy what he thinks of your friend... SLIMY!
So that's the bookworld, sort of. Erin, are we getting ice cream or what?
Stay tuned for game 2, folks, happening soon!
--Your Queen of Space
Shakespeare Bats Cleanup by Ron Koertege
Yes, a poetry novel. Stop being such a snot and read it.
Speed of Light by Ron Carlson
Gorgeous.
Turning the page on the calendar, it occurs to me that I have neglected to write down the time, location, or any information about "Dermo in Burlington" on 21 October. I wonder if, in the big sweep of all things paper, I managed to toss that one important piece. Probably. I'll never clean my room again. Also, maybe the Burlington Dermo is the kind of office where they call to remind you the day or two before because of people like me. Here's hoping.
Check out Phatfirm Francophone and we can bob our heads together.
Oh, and, apparently I totally reek.
