I’m in Los Angeles now, for an education conference. I got here a few days before it started so I could visit my parents and why I do shit like this I do not understand. It’s like I could’ve just slipped into town quietly, gone to the conference for three days, and then go back to New York–simple, clean, no headaches, good times for all. But I decided no, no, better visit the parents and harsh my mellow. Anyway I get to their house and there’s a sticky on the door: “Gone to San Jose. - Dad.”

“He go San Jose?”
“I guess so. How come you didn’t know about it?”
“How come YOU not know?”
“Because I don’t live here. But you’re his wife.”
“So, you his daughter.”
“But you’ve known him longer than I have.”
“But you know him you whole life. I only know maybe half my life.”
“That’s still longer than me.”
“You relate more to him.”
“Dude, no one relates to him. He’s crazy.”
“No, I mean you relate. You his daughter. You have same blood. That mean you know him more.”
“That has nothing to do with it. You’re crazy.”
“See? You just like Daddy.”

Last night I went to the Upright Citizens Brigade Theatre and watched their MySpace show, where they bring up an audience member and show and discuss their MySpace profile and then do sketches based on it. Anyway I volunteered myself and I kind of realized while being up there that my MySpace profile is really boring and it doesn’t play music or blink or bounce or flash or scroll and there are no photos of me being “like, totally wasted.” Go look at it and fall asleep. I was kind of embarrassed about how absurdly lame it was and also because I have like 116 friends but they are book stores and inanimate objects. And I didn’t even friend them. I gave Doretta my password so she could just manage my MySpace for me. How sad is that? Plus two of the profiles belong to Micah. So basically I have like three friends. Anyway they did this one sketch where an author met an art director at HarperCollins for a book cover meeting in which they revealed a cover of a Leprechaun drinking whiskey while hitting someone with a stick. I was like SHIT THAT IS BRILLIANT.

This entry was posted on Thursday, March 15th, 2007 at 2:21 pm and is filed under family, not raging. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.