Self Agog Over Earthquake! And Other Surprises of the Evening

Dear blog readers, just as self was settling down for a cozy evening with hubby in front of flat screen HDTV (Hubby informed self that she would indeed be able to watch season premiere of Nip/ Tuck, as we still get F/X — happy happy joy joy!), she felt a disquieting rumbling beneath her feet. Self and hubby looked at each other, but the rumbling did not go away. Then TV began to tilt forward. And self thought it would indeed be very funny if TV crashed to the ground. And hubby declared we were experiencing an earthquake. And self grew suddenly afraid. And hubby ran outside. But self could not leave the dogs, who were still snoozing (proving definitively once and for all that the old wive’s tale that dogs know when an earthquake is at hand and give notice by exhibiting odd behavior is just that — an old wive’s tale). And self can’t understand why this event has not been trumpeted on every news station in the Bay Area.

Anyhoo, after she had calmed down somewhat, self resumed her activity of the evening: perusing weekly e-mails from Publisher’s Weekly. And now she would like to share with loyal blog readers that Publisher’s Weekly classifies deals this way:

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Tuesday Evening: Report on the State of Self’s Brain

Back from three hours of student tutoring at the Writing Center. Self literally did not have a moment’s breath between appointments. At 6, self stood up, dashed off to copier. But of course, copier which had been jammed last week was still jammed this evening. And standing in front of sole other copier in the entire campus were two of self’s former students, who smiled wanly at self but did not defer to her advanced age. So self had to wait for 20 minutes while former students discussed which color of paper to use to copy their homework. Self, a genius at pretending to look busy, pretended to be perusing the bulletin boards (Join the Peace Corps! Attend a retreat!)

Then, self hot-footed it home (keeping sharp eye out for Police cruisers. Self thinks it is absolutely sneaky of police to begin using those black SUVs that look like Escalades. The other day, she was barreling blithely along when one of those black behemoths pulled up beside her, and self saw clearly the police logo on the side. Then, she broke out in a sweat, stopped humming, and started doing the herky-jerky with her driving. It’s a wonder policeman did not pull her over for dementia)

Ahh, the dishes in the sink, the beagles swarming about her feet. But self is sure hubby will not be home for at least an hour, so she has time to check her blog stats.

Last night, self was rolling on the floor with Letterman. She can’t understand it: when she was in her 20s, she loathed him. When she was in her 30s she began to find him occasionally interesting. And now she finds him absolutely side-splittingly funny. His guests last night were Jerry Seinfeld, who did a very spirited defense of his wife’s integrity (poor thing was accused of plagiarizing a cookbook, of all things) and ex-Yankees manager, Joe Torre (wearing a suit that seemed at least a size too big: self thinks he is in definite need of sartorial advice, maybe from Seinfeld, who always looks sharp).

Today, self is reminded that she cannot watch season premiere of Nip/Tuck. Last night, she missed Weeds. Of movies showing, self knows Lust, Caution is playing in local arthouse. But self has no interest in seeing Tony Leung’s naked butt again, she thinks she’s seen enough of it 15 or 20 years ago, in The Lover. (Really, is there no other Chinese actor capable of performing a sex scene??? What about Chow Yun-Fat’s naked butt for a change???)

Oh! Self suddenly remembers that tomorrow is Halloween! And she remembers reading somewhere that the two most popular costumes this year will be a scary Hillary Clinton or a scary Amy Winehouse (isn’t that an oxymoron?) Self is all agog in anticipation to see what shows up at her door tomorrow. Stay tuned, dear blog readers, stay tuned.

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