In case you were dying of curiosity, there are 17 traffic lights between my house and Ned's. We live three miles apart. The problem is that he lives downtown, so 87,000 of those lights are right outside his house.
"Try going the way I go. Fewer lights that way," Ned told me. What HE'D do, is he'd go a different way. So one day he was driving to my house and I was with him, and I counted.
I guess I shouldn't complain, as I used to take surface streets from my house in Burbank to my work right near Santa Monica. It was something like 59 lights. And even still, it took less time going that way than going on the freeway. Guess what I do not miss. Is it the traffic in LA? Have you heard about the traffic in LA? I know it's a seldom-touched-on topic.
As exciting as all this traffic talk is, I wanted to thank you all all y'all all for telling me what your first record was, yesterday. I like how if you said Bobby Sherman I was all, "God, she's so old" and if it was, say, Falco, I was all, "God, she's so young" and really both of those are less than 10 years before or after my time.
Sadly, both Ned and I purchased Love Will Keep Us Together, on 45, as one of our first fine music purchases. The first record anyone bought me was a Lily Tomlin album, when I was six, and I.was.obsessed. with it, and whoever got it for me is probably hated to this day by my parents. Same as they probably abhor the yahoo who bought me a tape recorder, because if I REMOTELY KNEW YOU, I was gonna come at you with my microphone.
"How do you feel about being here at Katie's first birthday party today? What did you get her? How much did you spend? How much money do you make? Are you happily married?"
Honestly, I was hated and feared by all my relatives. If you think about it, this blog is kind of the same thing, isn't it? I've already asked you if you're happily married, and how many times a week you have sex. Is anyone willing to tell me how much money they make?
Isn't it odd how extremely taboo that subject is? The money one? You all stampeded to answer my sex, relationship, deepest secrets, are-you-happy questions, but I'll bet if I asked about money I'd get crickets. What's up with that? Why is it such a secret? Is it an American thing or an everyone thing?
Oh, but speaking of money, I received a new statistics textbook to proofread, and I know you envy me. Last night I went to a coffee shop to get started on it for about an hour, before Ned and I went to the movies (we saw Ferris Bueller's Day Off. There were teenagers in front of us, and we were all, Oh, here we go. But then when the Twist and Shout scene came on? They got up in their chairs and started twisting. We loved them. And their check-their-phones-every-second selves.).
My point is, I've always liked that coffee shop and I ended up buying a mug from there while I worked, so really I was spending money before I even made it. Suze Orman would throw up if she knew me.
Okay, I gotta go. I gotta chug chug to work. What if I just start saying that like it's a thing? How much would you hate me? What if I started coming at you with my tape recorder?
Do you want to hear a Lily Tomlin routine instead? ...Where you going?