Unrelated or semirelated short things. Some of them goofy. Some, not-so-goofy.
I went to the movies the other day to see Kill Bill Vol.1. Non Seqitur of the month: Me: One ticket for Kill Bill. Girl: That will be nine dollars please. Me: Has it started yet? Girl: We're still running the trailers. Me: OK Girl: You wouldn't happen to want to buy a ferret, would you?
A squirrel is eating a pumpkin we left outside. He's getting quite fat now. I wonder if his breath smells like pumpkin pie. No, I didn't check.
We went to see Mystic River yesterday with Julie. The woman next to Julie cried for much of the film. Three seats down I could hear her sniffling.
My daughters ran a haunted house for us. At one point, I was made to eat celery. I was told it was a spine.
Chuck's birthday was last Friday. I didn't forget it, but I was pissed at myself for not remembering it sooner in the day. By the time I called he had gone out to dinner. I wish my friends all lived much closer. Oddly, the furthest friend moves to New Bedford next week (from Florida) and will now be the closest of my college friends. Weird. (I should note that my furthest longtime friend, my cousin Bill who was stationed in the middle east, has temporarily moved to Maine. But he will be stationed in Washington state all too soon.)
I didn't realize the top was off the oregano and poured a little mound of it onto my pizza. Michelle Sherillo once told me that conservative use of oregano was key in Italian cooking. I wonder where she is now. Is that her, with the Webster Lake association? Is she working for NovaSoft? I ought to drop her a line and say "Hi." One of those "Are you that person who I think you are?" emails. NovaSoft is in Burlington, where Xenergy was -- I bet that is her Chuck probably knows.
I've sent a number of "Are you that person?" emails. I've only once sent one that turned out to be to the wrong person. I've never gotten one that was not meant for me, and have gotten a couple that were meant for me.
One wrong "is it you" message I sent was when I was trying to say "Hi" to an old high school friend. He happens to work in film and he shares his name with a very close personal friend of Raymond Burr. The man I mistakenly contacted now owns and manages Mr. Burr's namesake wine label. He replied to my message very kindly. This took place around 1995.
It only occurred to me later that the girl with the ferret might either be flirting with me or might be a secret agent and that ferret line was the first part of a code phrase intended to identify her contact. The far more likely explanation is the secret agent one.