Maybe later

A beautiful young woman and her friend sit behind me on the N Judah. She is upset about a breakup and her friend tries to console her. First he gives her that thing about how she has to be ready in herself--how she must love herself--before she can be with someone else. I feel confident that she already knows this. He then tells her tales of his own breakup of yore, in which, to hear him tell it, he was the very picture of calm acceptance when his girlfriend up and left him.

"You must live life on life's terms," he says, "not your terms. The reason I'm not upset about Lily is because we had so many good times together. Did you and this guy have good times?" She nods. She is crying. "So, you see?" he continues, "instead of thanking life for letting you have this time with this amazing person, you just want more."

She replies, "You know, I can't focus on his amazingness right now. Right now I need to focus on his blindness, his ineptness, his throwing away the best thing that ever happened to him..." her list goes on as they step off the train.

Amen.

Bend to my will

It is I, your cyber leader, wielding my cyber power.

Do you live here? Here in the Bay Area? (And don't lie because there are only about ten of you reading this and eight of you do live here.)Well then, you must go the PlayGround Festival. Seven wonderful new short plays by local writers. Brilliant cast. Certainty of liking at least one play. Convenient downtown location. Nothing about it is bad.

The ticket price you say? Please. It's completely reasonable. Besides, I heard the Stones are charging $454 for their concert. It's all about perspective.

I will see you there, or you will know my displeasure.

Adult

A group of girls gather in the hall chattering excitedly. It is one girl's birthday.

"Oh my god," says her friend,"you're 18!" They ponder the amazing fact of being a legal adult. So many doors are now open for them. "You can do whatever you want now. Let's...let's...go to a rated R movie!" says the friend. They all laugh.

Join him!

I've been re-reading Join Me! by Danny Wallace. I recommend it to you. Well, most of you. There are probably four or five of you who wouldn't like it, but that can't be helped.
It's full of things like this:

"I rapped on the door. By which I mean I knocked on it, not that I did a little MC-ing. But, if I had've done a little MC-ing, it would've been quite angry stuff, like NWA when they're on about the Rodney King incident. Only I'd have made it less about police brutality and more about old Devon men ripping young folk off with their made-up stories of broken down cars. And there I think you'll find the main difference between British and American crime."

Better not to know

I just received an email from J. Crew.
Subject heading: Introducing our jeweled-critter bikini.
I didn't open it.