Hey there, Matt Smith.
Today I spent a glorious day with one of my most favorite people. She is intelligent, she is witty, she is clever, and she is amazing.
Today I spent a day alone.
Sheesh! Did I ever need it! Sometimes things can pile up and pile up, and soon you're just another hack of a person, talking in circles, spending too much time with Detectives Green and that other guy, and confusing "its" and "it's."
Luckily, I'm out of that funk now. No longer are the signs in front of Protestant churches mocking me with their messages -- "Jesus cares for you" or "God listens to you." And I'm not weeping at the mere hint of a country song.
I'm glad you've been cast in "Midsummer..." I guess my recent "antsy-ness" is due to a lack of stage performance. There's only so much that a girl can take, really. This week, I got invited to "come play at my house" by a little girl named Maddy. I can honestly say that never happened to me when I did Shakespeare. No one wants Portia to play with their dolls.
Good luck with the show, then. Just say your lines really fast. I'm sure John'll love it.
As always,
Meredith
Saturday, January 29, 2005
Wednesday, January 26, 2005
Someone Should Really Help Sioux Get Up
Greetings from Sioux Falls, Matt Smith.
Ever have a day where you wake up, roll out of bed, and suddenly everything gets on your nerves? Even the smallest of things: dropping a glob of toothpaste in the sink, not being able to find something (car keys, a hairband, the remote), the sound of the fan in the bathroom, a malfunctioning cell phone. A day where even starting the car is a chore. (Okay. So starting MY car is a chore everyday. But everyone can't be that pitiful.)
TODAY is that day.
It's 9 o'clock in the evening now.
And, believe me... the hits just keep on coming.
I have no idea what causes these stupid annoyances during any given day. A bad night's sleep? Dinner the night before? A chemical imbalance?
All I know is, this morning when I went to get breakfast in the hotel lobby, I got mad at my tea bag.
A stupid, paper-tagged, Lipton tea bag.
And now... "Law & Order" isn't on. Katie-frickin'-Couric's doing some documentary on teens and sex. Hell. Is this really worth taking the highlight of my evening away from me? Is it? Tell me, Katie, because I need to know. This can't possibly be new information that you're spotlighting this evening -- teens and sex? Yes? They have sex. Ooooo! Such TABOOS you're covering! Such INSIDE information! After all, who wouldn't want to tell Katie Couric about their sex life?
But Sioux Falls is nice. If you're into that sort of thing. You know, Sioux. Falls. (Side note: The newscasts here keep calling the region "the Sioux Empire." Isn't that great? "The Sioux Empire." Makes me want to go buy an ottoman.) I haven't actually gotten in to see the falls of Sioux, but they do exist. I wonder if they're wearing a robe and crown or something.
Cheers,
Meredith
Ever have a day where you wake up, roll out of bed, and suddenly everything gets on your nerves? Even the smallest of things: dropping a glob of toothpaste in the sink, not being able to find something (car keys, a hairband, the remote), the sound of the fan in the bathroom, a malfunctioning cell phone. A day where even starting the car is a chore. (Okay. So starting MY car is a chore everyday. But everyone can't be that pitiful.)
TODAY is that day.
It's 9 o'clock in the evening now.
And, believe me... the hits just keep on coming.
I have no idea what causes these stupid annoyances during any given day. A bad night's sleep? Dinner the night before? A chemical imbalance?
All I know is, this morning when I went to get breakfast in the hotel lobby, I got mad at my tea bag.
A stupid, paper-tagged, Lipton tea bag.
And now... "Law & Order" isn't on. Katie-frickin'-Couric's doing some documentary on teens and sex. Hell. Is this really worth taking the highlight of my evening away from me? Is it? Tell me, Katie, because I need to know. This can't possibly be new information that you're spotlighting this evening -- teens and sex? Yes? They have sex. Ooooo! Such TABOOS you're covering! Such INSIDE information! After all, who wouldn't want to tell Katie Couric about their sex life?
But Sioux Falls is nice. If you're into that sort of thing. You know, Sioux. Falls. (Side note: The newscasts here keep calling the region "the Sioux Empire." Isn't that great? "The Sioux Empire." Makes me want to go buy an ottoman.) I haven't actually gotten in to see the falls of Sioux, but they do exist. I wonder if they're wearing a robe and crown or something.
Cheers,
Meredith
Saturday, January 22, 2005
Friends Don't Let Friends Drive Over an Embankment
Matt Smith,
The fog is clearing.
By "fog," I mean the mild dizzy feeling that my cabernet sauvignon has created and also the "BLIZZARD of 2005!" (that's what the news is calling it, after all) and by "clearing," I mean that it's stopped snowing, and I'm all out of wine.
I drove back from North Dakota last night with my tour partner, Brandon; it took us about 8 1/2 hours, travelling at about 40 MPH. Every 10 miles or so (okay... I'm exaggerating), we'd see a little compact car (is there such a thing as a big compact car? and why do people tell you to put your arms up when you're choking?) that flew over the side of the highway.
"That's not going to happen to us," I'd say.
"Of course not," Brandon would reply. "Don't look at that."
A pause.
"Is that someone I should be helping?" he'd say.
"No. Look," I'd say. "They're on a phone."
Okay, so they weren't ALWAYS on a phone. But really, who doesn't have a cell phone nowadays?
(Ahem, ahem... side note: cell phones are useful, cell phones are great, if you don't have one, you can't call when you're late! Cell phones are nifty, cell phones are swell, you'll be able to call someone if you're stuck in a well!)
And.... end scene.
So, yes. To sum up this entry:
1) Slow down. The roads are icy.
2) You'll start to sweat after shoveling 2 feet of snow from in front of a garage.
3) Drink wine. It makes the night go faster. (And you'll be warmer. Hell. This should just be a blog for wine, huh?)
4) The benefits of cell phones are many. Besides... you'll always be able to see who's calling... And then you'll be able to not talk to people. It's great.
Stormy weather,
Meredith
The fog is clearing.
By "fog," I mean the mild dizzy feeling that my cabernet sauvignon has created and also the "BLIZZARD of 2005!" (that's what the news is calling it, after all) and by "clearing," I mean that it's stopped snowing, and I'm all out of wine.
I drove back from North Dakota last night with my tour partner, Brandon; it took us about 8 1/2 hours, travelling at about 40 MPH. Every 10 miles or so (okay... I'm exaggerating), we'd see a little compact car (is there such a thing as a big compact car? and why do people tell you to put your arms up when you're choking?) that flew over the side of the highway.
"That's not going to happen to us," I'd say.
"Of course not," Brandon would reply. "Don't look at that."
A pause.
"Is that someone I should be helping?" he'd say.
"No. Look," I'd say. "They're on a phone."
Okay, so they weren't ALWAYS on a phone. But really, who doesn't have a cell phone nowadays?
(Ahem, ahem... side note: cell phones are useful, cell phones are great, if you don't have one, you can't call when you're late! Cell phones are nifty, cell phones are swell, you'll be able to call someone if you're stuck in a well!)
And.... end scene.
So, yes. To sum up this entry:
1) Slow down. The roads are icy.
2) You'll start to sweat after shoveling 2 feet of snow from in front of a garage.
3) Drink wine. It makes the night go faster. (And you'll be warmer. Hell. This should just be a blog for wine, huh?)
4) The benefits of cell phones are many. Besides... you'll always be able to see who's calling... And then you'll be able to not talk to people. It's great.
Stormy weather,
Meredith
Wednesday, January 12, 2005
A-Tisket, A-Tasket, A-Choo!
Greetings, friend.
I've somehow come down with a cold this week, so before I delve too far into the subject of "What's Going On in My Life Out Here in the Truly Bizarre Midwest," I should warn you... If my typing cuts out from time to time and suddenly you find yourself covered head to toe in warm snot, that's why.
The past week or so has been decidedly stressful for me and my relationship with my job. (Perhaps that's why I've got the cold. Occupational hazard due to undue stress on the immune system.) There's got to be a way to have near-perfect communication in a business, yes? I hate to pick up the phone to check my voice mail and hear passive-aggressive messages on what someone did or said that might have meant this or that or the other thing. I hate being told that I'm not allowed to dispute things that are within my rights as an employee to dispute.
I hate North Dakota. I have to teach there next week. I once had a professor who didn't believe that anyone lived in North Dakota. It's unfortunate that I have to be the one to prove the man wrong.
Aside from my cold though, and my job-related goofiness (ooh, and a fever... I think I have a fever too), everything here is slowly being covered in what Minnesotans call "snow." "Snow" is a frozen, ice-slushy substance that can build up and cause dangerous road conditions, slippery sidewalks, and depression. So far, it's just given me a headache. Last Sunday while watching TV, one of the local news channels shot out a "blurb"-type thing between commercials of one of the newscasters. That goober sat there smiling at us from the happy warmth of his studio and said, "It's going to be SO cold this weekend!"
I hated him. I hated him with a hatred that I reserve only for North Dakota.
Really, I think Minnesota has ridiculous weather because if it weren't for the weather, no one would have anything to talk about. The forecast takes up a good 60-70% of the news broadcast here. I'm not sure anything else ever happens here. Once Prince moved out, and Ventura was out of office, so did all the excitement.
But I'm here now, so everyone's surely happy by now.
Until I leave for North Dakota.
Sneezes and wheezes,
Meredith
I've somehow come down with a cold this week, so before I delve too far into the subject of "What's Going On in My Life Out Here in the Truly Bizarre Midwest," I should warn you... If my typing cuts out from time to time and suddenly you find yourself covered head to toe in warm snot, that's why.
The past week or so has been decidedly stressful for me and my relationship with my job. (Perhaps that's why I've got the cold. Occupational hazard due to undue stress on the immune system.) There's got to be a way to have near-perfect communication in a business, yes? I hate to pick up the phone to check my voice mail and hear passive-aggressive messages on what someone did or said that might have meant this or that or the other thing. I hate being told that I'm not allowed to dispute things that are within my rights as an employee to dispute.
I hate North Dakota. I have to teach there next week. I once had a professor who didn't believe that anyone lived in North Dakota. It's unfortunate that I have to be the one to prove the man wrong.
Aside from my cold though, and my job-related goofiness (ooh, and a fever... I think I have a fever too), everything here is slowly being covered in what Minnesotans call "snow." "Snow" is a frozen, ice-slushy substance that can build up and cause dangerous road conditions, slippery sidewalks, and depression. So far, it's just given me a headache. Last Sunday while watching TV, one of the local news channels shot out a "blurb"-type thing between commercials of one of the newscasters. That goober sat there smiling at us from the happy warmth of his studio and said, "It's going to be SO cold this weekend!"
I hated him. I hated him with a hatred that I reserve only for North Dakota.
Really, I think Minnesota has ridiculous weather because if it weren't for the weather, no one would have anything to talk about. The forecast takes up a good 60-70% of the news broadcast here. I'm not sure anything else ever happens here. Once Prince moved out, and Ventura was out of office, so did all the excitement.
But I'm here now, so everyone's surely happy by now.
Until I leave for North Dakota.
Sneezes and wheezes,
Meredith
Sunday, January 02, 2005
ATA Airlines is boarding all passengers at this time... or something.
Dear "Mat,"
I once took a stuffed pink flamingo through airport security.
Yep. That's right. A stuffed pink flamingo.
It was a toy, of course, and I wasn't really travelling with it. In fact, I wasn't really travelling at all.
Sometimes you just want to hang out at the airport.
The Pittsburgh International Airport is a unique place as, I suppose, all airports are -- international or what-have-you. There's a great deal of diversity here. Not everyone's a Yinzer. Not everyone is wearing Steelers paraphenalia. If the United States is a melting pot, then the airports of the world are side salads. There's a lot of carrots walking around. A lot of grape tomatoes. A lot of radishes, rutabega, raddichio. There are West Coastal folks, Midwesterners, foreigners, locals. Dressed up with a slice or two of "I'm home now" or "I'm going home" or "I'm getting the hell out of this place." It's all in here.
My flight boards in a little over half an hour. I'm not entirely ready to LEAVE Pittsburgh, but I'm not altogether willing to STAY either. I kept telling people this last week in town that I liked Pittsburgh now because I didn't have to work there. I just vacation there. (Here. I'm actually still Here.) I suppose it was vacation-like. I spent a great deal of time with Matt and my family and Me, Too. And a great deal of time gifting and holidaying and eating and drinking and making merriment and the like.
(I apparently also spend a great deal of time saying the phrase "great deal of." I guess I like that phrase a great deal.)
(A BOGO is also a great deal. Especially if it's the type where, if you really don't want two, you can get one at half price. That's a great deal.)
Where was I? Oh yes. The airport. Vacationing. I suppose that's all through now. (Except I'm still at the airport. Where's my plane? Flying makes me nervous. I get all jumpy and talky and typey.) I'll be back Here sometime in the next few months -- Easter, maybe. Until then I'll be There -- that other place I call home now. Then in May I'll move from There to Here in order to figure out the next step on my journey.
Boy, life is ever so confusing.
Love,
Bwaaaaaa
I once took a stuffed pink flamingo through airport security.
Yep. That's right. A stuffed pink flamingo.
It was a toy, of course, and I wasn't really travelling with it. In fact, I wasn't really travelling at all.
Sometimes you just want to hang out at the airport.
The Pittsburgh International Airport is a unique place as, I suppose, all airports are -- international or what-have-you. There's a great deal of diversity here. Not everyone's a Yinzer. Not everyone is wearing Steelers paraphenalia. If the United States is a melting pot, then the airports of the world are side salads. There's a lot of carrots walking around. A lot of grape tomatoes. A lot of radishes, rutabega, raddichio. There are West Coastal folks, Midwesterners, foreigners, locals. Dressed up with a slice or two of "I'm home now" or "I'm going home" or "I'm getting the hell out of this place." It's all in here.
My flight boards in a little over half an hour. I'm not entirely ready to LEAVE Pittsburgh, but I'm not altogether willing to STAY either. I kept telling people this last week in town that I liked Pittsburgh now because I didn't have to work there. I just vacation there. (Here. I'm actually still Here.) I suppose it was vacation-like. I spent a great deal of time with Matt and my family and Me, Too. And a great deal of time gifting and holidaying and eating and drinking and making merriment and the like.
(I apparently also spend a great deal of time saying the phrase "great deal of." I guess I like that phrase a great deal.)
(A BOGO is also a great deal. Especially if it's the type where, if you really don't want two, you can get one at half price. That's a great deal.)
Where was I? Oh yes. The airport. Vacationing. I suppose that's all through now. (Except I'm still at the airport. Where's my plane? Flying makes me nervous. I get all jumpy and talky and typey.) I'll be back Here sometime in the next few months -- Easter, maybe. Until then I'll be There -- that other place I call home now. Then in May I'll move from There to Here in order to figure out the next step on my journey.
Boy, life is ever so confusing.
Love,
Bwaaaaaa
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