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a timely and newsy debate topic. Any ideas?

Also… I guess I actually don’t have anything more to say. I never don’t have more to say. Which is to say, I always have more to say. Say, that’s weird. Okay then.

Wrong, you’ll be at the Apple Store in Soho where I’ll be moderating a live Q&A with David Schwimmer who you may know as Ross but who also directed Run Fatboy Run which is coming out next week. We’ll show clips and then talk about them. I’ll take questions from the audience. Michael Ian Black wrote the screenplay but he won’t be there as he’s in Vancouver apparently. God, just say you don’t want to go, don’t pretend to be in Canada I thought to myself as I dashed off an email that said “oh! have fun in Vancouver!”

Anyway, see you there unless you don’t live here in which case you should probably just do whatever you were planning on doing.

It turns red every evening between 5pm and 7pm. I’m not even kidding. Like blushing, but concentrated in my nose and cheeks. 5pm is also when I start drinking gin out of a paper bag under my desk. Do you think it’s a coincidence? I’m kidding about the drinking. Anyway, I pointed out the puffy redness to the Red Eye makeup lady and she said “you have a tan from California!” and I said “I don’t actually! My face just turns red sometimes!” I should have gone with the tan thing. Anyway, I bring this up because I’m in full Rudolph mode right now. If you saw me and you were in a car, you would slam on the brakes.

ever suspect those Snapple “real facts” are total bullshit?

To wit: real fact #124 “Seals sleep only one and a half minutes at a time.”

Really? I once napped with a seal and excuse me, but I think I would have noticed if he was up every 90 seconds.

I have not taken advantage of the extra hour of daylight to make hay or rotate my crops. Damnit!

Yay!

Looks like we’re boarding again. Hooray!

This trip is like a kidney stone that I can’t pass. You know, but not that bad, because actually it was good. I just mean that the weird feelings I was looking forward to flying away from are bearing down because I’m stuck in an airport pickling in them. Sorry for all the mixed metaphors. And the general crappy writing. I’ll chin up shortly, I’m sure. Well, tomorrow at least. Hopefully.

On the upside, there are a couple little birds in here somehow hopping around on the carpet. I jumped a couple times thinking they were mice, but now that I’m past that, I think they’re cute.

I may cry a little anyway though, because the overriding feeling I’m experiencing right now is one of mournfulness.

Update: a plum just rolled across the floor.

Grounded due to weather. Usually it isn’t this hard to leave Orange County.

Okay fine, I’m in Long Beach which isn’t technically Orange County, but close enough. At least they let us off the plane which is good but it’s also bad because that’s how bad they must think it is.

Did that make sense?

OC has made me dumb. And sleepy.

There there, blog readers! I have not forsaken you. Come close and I’ll stroke your hair while telling you all about my crazy week in Orange County. I have nostalgia vertigo. I feel like someone who time traveled and then forgot that they were only supposed to be a spectator in the past and accidentally started laying down roots and pursuing things in the past and building new memories in little time cul de sacs. What the hell am I saying? I could explain it, but I feel too weird and am looking forward to going home where I won’t be accosted with memories and ghosts and smells and stuff. Anyway, I’m doing Red Eye on Monday, so there’s that. And here’s another Costa Mesa band story which is overwrought like the others. Enjoy!