Sept. 29, 2003 - 1:25 p.m.
Dear Meghan:
Today I have about a day and a half’s growth on my face (whiskers, not mold). Three – not one, not two, but three – women approached me this morning and said, “Whoa – I bet you have women approaching you like crazy now.” “Why’s that?” “Well, that stubble-look – makes you look very handsome.” I don’t know how handsome it makes me look, Meghan, but while it is true that women have approached me today, it is only for them to remark on their theory that women must be approaching me. That’s funny.
It also marks yet another in a series of just weird things that keep happening. None of it really makes sense to me, and most of it is fairly disturbing. Perhaps it is because my nicotine intake is being curtailed. So everything I might go on about here may be the result of the first stage of detox.
In the middle of last week, my friend Jennifer – smoking partner, confidant, fellow twisted humor person - informed me of something that is so bizarre, you might not believe it is true: she said her gal pal (romantically speaking) thinks that she (Jennifer) is sleeping with me (me), and as such neither (her nor her) will be coming to my show.
Though one would be inclined to apply a light interpretation to this announcement (i.e., well it’s only a show she’s talking about, right?), imagine Diane approaching you and saying “my significant other thinks I’m sleeping with you, Meghan, so I will not be attending your latest recital…” or something along those lines. I am assuming of course that you do not get busy with Diane. But the point is: can a statement like that be more Twilight Zone-y? I couldn’t think of a thing to say for two days; finally, I jotted a quick e-mail saying I didn’t appreciate being collateral damage in whatever war is going on between her and hers. But what else can I do? Diddly, I say, diddly!
I keep expecting this weekly crisis thing (a phenomenon that began with the beginning of Suspicious Clowns 5) to either stop or be so preposterous that I start to find it funny. I’m very close to finding it all funny, and often find myself smirking at the excessive amount of drama that either I’m attracting or inspiring. But that leads to another question: am I becoming healthy… or completely mad? In either event, I am tired a lot lately and consistently forget to shave.
Today I have about a day and a half’s growth on my face (whiskers, not mold). Three – not one, not two, but three – women approached me this morning and said, “Whoa – I bet you have women approaching you like crazy now.” “Why’s that?” “Well, that stubble-look – makes you look very handsome.” I don’t know how handsome it makes me look, Meghan, but while it is true that women have approached me today, it is only for them to remark on their theory that women must be approaching me. That’s funny.
Hey, déjà vu! How did that happen??!! Wiiiiiiiiiiiiiild, baby, wiiiiiiiiiiiiild.
Lunch beckons, so I must close for now. Stay dry, unless, say, you don’t want to.
I always favored Joyce DeWitt over John Ritter,
Vincent
what they said - what they will say
