American Thanksgiving or this writer’s strike I’ve been hearing about ate my 30 Rock. 30 Rock is not on. I was sad, momentarily, to note this. But then I realized that The Incredibles is on in its place and now I’m watching it and I might make popcorn and stay up till it’s over because The Incredibles is a funny, funny movie. It’s clever and sweet and the characters have more personality than all the people I talked to today put together.
See, if I wasn’t blogging every day, this entry would not be here and you would have no idea that I am so boring. I am doing the world a great service by blogging every day because otherwise, you would only see the best of me, the thoughtful, well-constructed posts about important, amusing or bittersweet topics and you would think I was some kind of goddamn genius. Rest assured I am boring as hell – as ever – and frantically looking for inspiration for the next 10 days. 9 days. Whatever.
The commercials for Christmas are a bit much and I am intrigued by the movie called “The Water Horse.” There’s a scene where the people are looking into a bathtub and this creature looks back at them, a slimy, grey creature and the man says, Britishly,”It looks like….a water horse!” Of course. A water horse. Of which I have seen many, so I recognize it immediately!
Tonight before bed, I asked Trombone where my baby is. He poked me – hard – in the belly button, hopefully not hitting his sibling’s fontenelle in the process. I guess he has some idea that there’s a baby in my belly, which is pretty weird, actually. I mean, I totally didn’t believe I had a baby in my gut until I saw that first ultrasound. I guess Trombone is either more gullible or else he still remembers being in there clearly enough to have permanently suspended disbelief.
OK. The moon is full and I am hopeful something interesting will happen to me tomorrow or else you’re all getting a very accurate transcript of every single conversation I have all day long and you KNOW that’s gonna hurt.