Brad Pitt and Don Cheadle? Exactly the Same.

I have been wanting to get a new mobile phone for the past month. And since I have the Verizon Wireless 2-year $100 credit, I've been lurking Verizon stores the past few days.

Every time I go to a store, the salespeople tell me the phone I want is a different price. Apparently, mobile phone prices change all the time, like ocean tides. Oh, did I say this cost $99? No, it is actually $150. Did I say $150? It was on sale for $39 up until yesterday, but today it is $150. Oh, did you think that you had a $100 credit because you have the 2-year $100 credit? Oh, no. You need to subtract a $20 activation fee. So it's actually 2-years $80. That's in the fine print.

I went to the Verizon store on Bedford Ave in Mount Kisco, and I asked a simple question about the phone. But then I saw another phone and asked:

"What's the difference between these two phones?"

The answer?

"They're exactly the same."

Oh really? The Motorola Krazr and the LG 8300 are exactly the same?

That's like saying Brad Pitt and Don Cheadle? Oh, they're exactly the same.

My sister said that they purposely make things really difficult so that you will be overwhelmed and say, "Okay, this one, I'll pay $100 for this one. Now can I go home?"

Right, but I'm not built that way. I'm more like, "Huh? I can't handle this right now. I need to go home and take a nap."

My Next Party Will Be a Goddess Party

There is one television show that has overtaken the nation and my living room. And this season, what with the woman with the fake leg, Dancing With the Stars is good American fun.

The scenes that are ridiculous, the ones that make me cringe, are not the dancing scenes, but rather the scenes of celebrities in their real life.

Leeza Gibbons actually said, "My 50th birthday party was a goddess party."

Cut to scenes of children in togas dancing for the birthday goddess.

I turned to Peter and said, "Why, that's a great idea! Our next party should be a GODDESS PARTY."

Trying For a Good Baby

I am reading a book that was the winner of the 2005 Orange Prize, a book I wanted to read because I am also working on a epistolary novel.

HOWEVER, I am also working on trying to have a baby and people who are trying to have a baby should NOT READ "We Need to Talk About Kevin" by Lionel Shriver. Because it is a book about a woman who ends up having an evil baby.

This baby goes on a killing rampage at his school and the whole book is about the mother whining about how she never wanted to give up her career for a baby.

I think people who don't want to have babies should not have babies, because they will turn out to be evil, or at least turn out to be just another guy who cuts people off on highways. And really, who needs more of those people?

Peter said something really sweet today. He said:

I hope we don't have a girl, because she's going to be gorgeous and I won't know what to do.

And I said:

Especially if she turns out to be a slut.

He moaned and dropped his head into his hands.

Why We Went to Spice Instead of Tomatillo

In about one time out of ten, when Peter and I go to a restaurant, we get there and the place is dark. It is dark because the place is closed on Mondays...wait, is it Tuesday? Yes, then it is closed Tuesday. We went over to the Inn at Pound Ridge a month ago to try their brunch, and even though I had checked their website, it was closed...under new management.

So today, we decided to go to Tomatillo for dinner - a celebratory Yay-Peter-Quit-His-Job-At-The-School-For-Idiots. We drove up to the place, and as Peter is pulling into a parking spot, I said, "Babe, it's closed."

As if in slow motion, Peter turned and said, "No, it's....Yes...it...is."

But then, seeing that the red was creeping up my face, like a Looney Tunes cartoon character, Peter quickly said, "Hey, let's not let this put us in a bad mood! Let's go somewhere else! Like...City LIMITS!! Yeah! OR Angelica KITCHEN! That sounds GOOD!"

How could we have made such a rookie mistake? I mean, what have we learned in the past nine years? Yes, we may have really great luck in that we are s'happy together, but it comes with a price, and the price is that we can never find parking right away, we always pick the wrong lane to be on in the highway - the one that doesn't move - and we CONSTANTLY get to a restaurant that is CLOSED.

Either Nothing is Wrong, OR You Will Be Blown To Bits

Recently, I was startled to find that a light had come on in the dashboard of our Honda Element. This always makes me really nervous, because I don't know anything about cars, and every time I bring my car to the dealership for service, I get reamed.

Once, when I complained that I felt that the mechanics were totally scamming me, my mother said:

"Since we don't know anything about cars, we don't have any other choice but to get scammed by mechanics. If you face that fact in life, you'll feel better about this."

This is the advice I grew up with folks. Very similar to:

"I'm sorry that Stephanie Foster kicks you under the table at school, but next year in first grade, you might have differently-shaped tables - or she won't be sitting next to you - that's something to look forward to!"

My parents really never went to bat for me, except when I came home from school after my last day of second grade without any homework. My father, convinced that I was a complete liar, drove me right back to the school where Mrs. Adams (who actually hit me on the head with a book out of frustration because I hadn't learned how to read yet - and of course, when I told my parents, they did not feel that this was anything earth-shattering) explained that IN AMERICA there was no homework during summer vacation. My father insisted that she give me some sort of assignment, so she rummaged around and gave me two workbooks.

Anyway, back to the car story. I looked up what that light symbolized in the car manual and it said:

"If the indicator comes on while driving, it means one of the engine's emissions control systems may have a problem...Continued operation may cause serious damage."

Then, in the next paragraph, it said:

"...the indicator coming on could be due to a loose or missing fuel fill cap. Tighten the cap until it clicks at least three times. Tightening the cap will not turn the indicator off immediately. It takes at least three days of normal driving."

So what do I do? Keep driving three days? Or bring it in to prevent SERIOUS DAMAGE?

We Don't Like Yanni

We were at Borders today and eavesdropping on a couple who were obviously on a first date. The guy was asking the girl what she thought about The Beatles, and she said that she's only heard a couple of songs by them, and wasn't very impressed. She then told him that she preferred New Age music.

"Okay," Peter said. "At this point, I would pay the bill and get up to leave."

"But I liked really crappy music before you introduced me to good music."

"Yeah, but you liked good crappy music. New Age is crappy crappy music."

You Are Your Own Cockblocker, My Friend

The last night of AWP, I was hanging out with Rob. He's the managing editor of a publication also, and he likes to make his own crafted books. During one of our conversations, I told him that I love Boston, the city where he lives, because that is where my favorite restaurant is located. I also told him that my favorite animal is the elephant and I have a mini elephant walk in my kitchen. He leaned back and carefully looked at me, a look that I have come to recognize as a "wow, you're kind of nuts" look. My sister gives me this look whenever I expound on my huge crush on Al Franken. He's goofy, smart and funny. Whenever someone gets me to laugh I get an automatic mini-crush.

"You collect elephants?" Rob said. "That's cute, because I do too."

All my life, I have never met a man who was interested in the things I was interested in also. I kind of imagined what life would be like if I had married someone just like me. I pictured afternoons filled with crafting things out of paper and string and traveling on expeditions where we brought home intricately carved wooden elephants. I guess it's never happened because they say "opposites attract" not "people living parallel lives attract."

Because of my insomnia, I was afraid to go to sleep and not wake up for my flight, so my brilliant idea was to stay up all night. This is something I pretty much do on a regular basis. Toward the end of the night, there was another girl there who kept asking me if I needed to go pack. I kept saying no, and in my delirious sleep-deprived condition, it didn't occur to me that she wanted to be alone with Rob.

At one point, Rob left to go to the men's room, and this girl leaned over to me and said, "Plue, do you know what a cockblocker is?"

I was extremely sleep-deprived at this point, so I couldn't hear very well, plus I wasn't really registering what she was saying. All I kept repeating was:

"What? What did you say?"

Then Rob returned, and half an hour later, I thought to myself, "Ohhhhh...cock...blocker..."

Yes, I know - totally delayed reaction...totally plue.

That was a really aggressive thing to say and it embarrassed me. I was embarrassed for the girl because I think she's strange, and embarrassed for me because I didn't even GET IT. And now she probably thinks I'm dense - which I am, so I guess she's right.

I thought back to when I was dating, and if I liked a guy, I would just turn to him, put a hand on his arm and say, "Hey, let's go take a walk." And by walk, I mean, "Let's go make out around the corner."

"That's because you're cute," Peter said, "For some girls, everything has to be aligned and just so, or it won't happen. Like, maybe if she was the ONLY girl around, and this guy FELT like he might be even a LITTLE horny, she might be able to get some."

Although I Would Love to Meet Scott Bakula

The AWP in Atlanta was not as exciting as I thought it was going to be, and I suppose I am disappointed because I used to spend a lot of time with musicians. Musicians are, as a bunch, really fun people who are used to being on the road for huge stretches of time and hanging out with whoever is there.

Musicians are also yes people, which means that if you say, "Hey, I know! Let's jump off the second floor balcony into the hotel pool!" They will say, "Sure!"

or:

"Hey, let's stay up all night, pick up random people in your tour van, and have a naked party in the middle of the woods!" They will say, "That sounds awesome!"

Well, writers are not yes people. If you say, "Hey, let's go to this really great place for dinner that takes a 10-minute cab ride," they will say, "Let's just pick something up at the horrible cafe next door."

I think at some point, writers were yes people, and therefore, more interesting and people wanted to read what they had to say.

I was talking to my new friend Lightning Bliss, and I said, "If the AWP was an acting convention, then the most famous actor here would be Scott Bakula."

He laughed, but then disagreed with me. "That's not entirely true. I would say that the best actor would be Charlie Sheen...but he would only show up for one event, have a few drinks and leave."

Michael Knight is not David Hasselhoff

I went to the AWP this past weekend, which was actually both a lot more fun and a lot more boring than I thought it was going to be.

On the plane back home from Atlanta, as we board the airplane (on AirTran), Katie leans over to me and says softly, "Michael Knight is on the plane."

I immediately looked over to first class and am disappointed because I couldn't find David Hasselhoff. And then I thought to myself, why is David Hasselhoff on AirTran and what was he doing in Atlanta?

It was only later that I saw Michael Knight from Project Runway two rows in front of me.

I love reality-show-celebrity sightings.