head-shakin'
It's actual; everything is satisfactual:
Friday, 7:01 p.m. My phone rings.
Me: Hey, S.!
S.: Dude. John. Edwards.
Me: Oh, I know!
S.: For. Real?
Me: Ugh, I know.
S.: I mean, I knew it was true, but, dude.
Me: I know, come on!
We eventually got into a much more mature... ok, not mature, but at least wordier, discussion of the issues, and the conversation did end up covering Lorena Bobbitt, Lance Armstrong and his singular testicle, and Heather Mills' prosthetic leg.
Man, I am really going to miss S. when I stop working downtown.
In other, kind of better news, WHOA OPENING CEREMONIES. Can you say "spectacular"? No wonder I love Zhang YiMou. Well, I used to love Zhang, until he became a government pet. He still has unbelievably enormous talent, but I do miss his heyday. Raise the Red Lantern, Huo Zhe (To Live)... tsk tsk what has happened to the Fifth Generation?
In any event, I won't forget that torch lighting any time soon.
Apparently, I could also never be a sportscaster or a head of state because I blubber too much at moving scenes, and when my team comes in. It's so overwhelming! My kids are going to associate the Olympics with Mommy crying a lot. I have to explain to them L.A., 1984 or Seoul, 1988. Sigh. I need to stop procrastinating and write some internship cover letters.
(And then Bernie Mac? And the random murder/suicide in Beijing?!)
Friday, 7:01 p.m. My phone rings.
Me: Hey, S.!
S.: Dude. John. Edwards.
Me: Oh, I know!
S.: For. Real?
Me: Ugh, I know.
S.: I mean, I knew it was true, but, dude.
Me: I know, come on!
We eventually got into a much more mature... ok, not mature, but at least wordier, discussion of the issues, and the conversation did end up covering Lorena Bobbitt, Lance Armstrong and his singular testicle, and Heather Mills' prosthetic leg.
Man, I am really going to miss S. when I stop working downtown.
In other, kind of better news, WHOA OPENING CEREMONIES. Can you say "spectacular"? No wonder I love Zhang YiMou. Well, I used to love Zhang, until he became a government pet. He still has unbelievably enormous talent, but I do miss his heyday. Raise the Red Lantern, Huo Zhe (To Live)... tsk tsk what has happened to the Fifth Generation?
In any event, I won't forget that torch lighting any time soon.
Apparently, I could also never be a sportscaster or a head of state because I blubber too much at moving scenes, and when my team comes in. It's so overwhelming! My kids are going to associate the Olympics with Mommy crying a lot. I have to explain to them L.A., 1984 or Seoul, 1988. Sigh. I need to stop procrastinating and write some internship cover letters.
(And then Bernie Mac? And the random murder/suicide in Beijing?!)