This morning:
John Hodgman was my boyfriend. We had been cursed to spend our days reenacting movies (him: A River Runs Through It, me: Nobody Knows*) until we could create a viable new language. I lived in a Gap dressing room, "trying on a new sundress," until our language was accepted. Upon leaving, I bought a bunch of new clothes with the money from our language sale, though I immediately felt guilty. My car keys were broken, so John Hodgman and I abandoned my car and walked to a playground.
Yesterday morning:
I was driving on an elevated highway in a very industrial part of town. Suddenly, there was a break in the highway, and I didn't have enough speed to successfully jump over it. So my car went down, down, down toward the concrete yard of an Equifax building. I had about 5 seconds to accept my mortality -- which I did, quietly and succinctly. The next thing I knew, though, I woke up in a basement apartment in Brooklyn where Adam, Matthew Perry, and a couple friends of ours were having an end-of-Studio-60-party.
* = Nobody Knows is a Japanese movie from 2004 about four children who are abandoned by their mother and forced to live on their own in a Tokyo apartment. It's also The Saddest Movie I Have Ever Seen. Totally brilliant and beautiful, but honestly, I can never watch it again.