Remember in Beaches, when you kept waiting for Barbara Hershey to die, and there she'd be in the next scene?
Here I still am! I'm like that Monty Python skit: I'm not dead yet! Oh, HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! God, that's funny.
Anyway, I know you're all, Why is she still posting? Why isn't she at the beach, where she SAID she'd be, for the love of all that is holy? Must we STILL HEAR HER EVERY MINUTIAE?
We leave for the beach later today. Ned wanted to work, which, what's with Ned and his maturity and industriousness? Those are horrible traits in a person. We also put off going because dog daycare, which we're splitting the cost of, is so horrifically expensive. So the fewer days we're gone the less that costs. Why can't you just set a bunch of food out for dogs and teach them to use the toilet like civilized people?
In the meantime, I have the whole week off, and believe it or not since I was gonna be here anyway, I texted my boss to ask if he wanted me to come in. He was all, Nah. I.am.indispensible.
So today, Ima pack the way I always do: hurriedly and stupidly, and I will get there and say, "I have 15 pair of chonies and no contacts." Or, "I packed seven toothbrushes and I have no migraine meds or phone." I always remember the stupid stuff and nothing major. Chonies are underwear. God, hang around more Hispanic people, will you?
Speaking of Hispanic people, I am SO disappointed that baby is a boy. I understand Kate and William's baby is not remotely Hispanic. Allegedly. Let's see if I can get a whole rumor going from this blog alone. It'll be the next James Hewitt controversy. Which let's face it. Harry is so the son of James Hewitt.
So, yeah. The royal disappointing baby. Potential fathers:
I'm not sayin', I'm just sayin'. Kate has dark hair, so she can totally get away with it. And while we're on the subject, why doesn't Javier Bardim ever call me?
And why do I own nothing with yellow ostrich feathers on it?
Oh, so what I was going to say, before I got off on my stupid "The royal baby is Hispanic" tangent, is remind me what I should pack. Sunscreen, bug spray, beach towel--
Hey! Did I tell you about my new bathing suit? See, this is why I can't pack. I do this IN MY OWN HEAD and get distracted. But the thing is, the last time I'd bought a bathing suit was in 1998, when I went on my honeymoon (Dear Ex-In-Laws: Money well spent!) (Love, June). Despite the fact that I lived in Los Angeles, I never went to the beach. It was too big of a pain to drive there, and an even bigger pain to park, and then the water would kill you with all the pollutants in it, so really, the only time I went to the beach was when I was taking an out-of-town visitor there, and then I always wore pants. I mean, maybe I'd wear a skirt, or my yellow ostrich feathers. But you get my drift.
The POINT is, I set out several weeks ago for what I assumed would be Bathing Suit Shopping Humiliation Extravaganza Number One, the first of many sad parts. I went to Belt, as my mother calls it, picked two suits off the rack, put the first one on and said, "Oh! Hunh!" took it out and bought it.
So that was undramatic. And I'd like to thank that beast of a whore, Tracy Anderson, for giving me that moment.
Okay, Ima go. I'm sleepy cause I was up Ned-ing. We were supposed to go to one of our old movies last night, and I headed out the door all happy, and 30 seconds later I had my purse dumped out on my driveway, because there were NO KEYS IN IT. I had to call Ned to come over and let me in with his key, and then we missed the movie, and he tortured me about it and kept saying things like, "Do you hate Laurence Olivier, is that it? Do you never want to see anything with him in it ever again?"
Ned is lucky he is cute. What we did instead was watch episodes of The Sopranos, as I have the box set, and I have dragged Ned into my world (up next? Getting him to watch Sex and the City. What say you? You think he'll love it? Do you think we can get some of those at-home highlights kits and do each other's hair, too?). We were on his couch, with his 93949493939493 remotes between us, and why do men have to have so many goddamn remote controls? Is it a phallic thing?
"I feel like something's come between us," I shouted to him over the divide. "You seem so remote." And that is when I carved JG + JG on the nearest tree.
Okay, am off. Look for upside-down and sideways beach pictures soon! Really! I mean it!