THE BEAT OF SHARPSHOOTERS COMES STRAIGHT FROM VOODOO
Seventeen
days since I last wrote? Is that possible? Time will swallow your
precious time, as the lyric goes.
So
it looks like the Depeche Mode documentary
has been shelved/killed. I kept in contact with the filmmakers,
and the last I heard was that they were taking it to Cannes, but
then I talked to one of DM's remixers who actually saw it and said
that a) it's terrible and b) it will never be released. How it could
be terrible after those guys flew all over the world and talked
to hundreds of fans I don't know, but maybe they should consider
getting another editor before they scrap it entirely. But it's looking
like my dorky-assness will never reach the light of celluloid.
===
I
was supposed to hang out with my college friends today, but between
them they have five kids and two of them are throwing up, so Junior
and I are staying home in our barf-free zone. It's sad because one
of them lives far, far away and is only here until the weekend,
and also sad because she's deathly afraid of needles and I was going
to put her on camera to talk about it. Like how that one time in
the dorms I got a call telling me to come fetch her from the health
center because she'd passed out while getting blood drawn. And how
when she was overseas she had to get shots before coming home and
she put it off until the last minute and then passed out while getting
them and they were seconds away from using resuscitation paddles
on her because they thought she'd had a heart attack but then she
woke up before getting electrocuted. How come I know so many people
with a fear of needles? Is it because we freaks attract each other?
I think my doc is proving though that this particular phobia reaches
far and wide. Even the addicts don't like metal in their veins unless
they're getting something good out of it.
===
We
went to a baby reunion for our childbirth class a few weekends ago,
so there were like eight of us, and my little bundle was by and
far the biggest child hands-down. He's just enormous. At his eight-week
checkup he was 25 inches and 17 pounds, which to be redundant is
just flipping huge. Everybody on the iVillage message board I read
has been like, "At eight weeks my little muffin was eleven
pounds! OMG! So big!" Right, lady. This iVillage thing attracts
people from all walks of life, and it's sometimes fun to read, but
sometimes I see things that make me copy and paste them into emails
to Gray because we both need more laughter in our lives.
"This is funny.. I've never heard of gripe water
before.. and I don't know were to get it here in Germany.. They
sale it on the internet for Baby's Bliss company. is that a good
brand.. or what.. and how do I use it.. I feel like a retard. tiffany"
It's
always tactful to use the word "retard" on a bulletin
board solely about new babies.
And
at the reunion somebody said to somebody else, "That one's
going to eat all the other ones." I wonder who they were talking
about?
