Puppy sweater vests
Do The Right Thing
Neon toile aprons
+ however else the next four days unfold.
*Why is Sonny always slapping people on the butt? No wonder he didn’t make it.
This is the moment that we always envisioned our soul age would finally match our age-age. Seeing as we always considered ourselves, you know, super mature. Wise, even.
Maybe there is wisdom in red wine (and sugar and cheese) hangovers. Last-minute deadlines. The dread of new business pitches. Not being certain one has the right clothing for a 50-degree day in the Pacific Northwest. Literally, a day. “Now your exit row seat has a limited recline. Are you ok with that?”
Do I have a choice?
Happy Birthday to the insecure person with questionable hygiene habits and an increasingly discomfiting skepticism toward techno-utopianism. Happy Birthday to the person who cashed her birthday check from grandma before calling her to say thank you. To the person who gave her dog a Greenie even though he didn’t finish his breakfast. To the person who tried, and somewhat failed, to have a nice time on vacation with her parents. To the person who should try harder? Or who tries too hard? Lacks discipline? Needs it?
Whoever the hell you are, Happy Birthday.
This was a movie I watched on a plane, the caboose to “The September Issue” and “Funny Face.” I sat next to a very young orthodox Jewish dad and his daughter, with whom I exchanged a few gimme fives.
Oliver: How do you keep hold of friends? Or boyfriends?
Anna: Makes it very easy to end up alone. To leave people.
Oliver: You can stay in the same place and still find ways to leave people.
Also it had a telepathically talking dog named Arthur.