Time Is a Gypsy Caravan...

So, I wrote another hysterically funny email to my friend Paul today, and I think he's going to claim that this one, like the last one, went "accidentally" to his junk folder (Paul, seriously: you're not fooling anybody)... anyway, since apparently I think I'm funny, here it is, slightly edited, for your amusement:

Pauly, I forgot my watch in the booth yesterday. No big deal, I just felt like announcing it. Am kind of avoiding work. Shouldn't type that, should I. I ate lunch but why does a big fat candy bar sound sooo good right now?

Going home early to avoid eating a big fat candy bar seems like a super-brilliant idea. They should be paying me money since I've been losing weight. Don't you think?

I'm changing my Gmail signature to the quote from "Quartet" about time. Again, no big deal, just felt like announcing it. I don't know if its meaning is any easier to discern than the Tom Robbins quote (and Tom was probably stoned), I guess I just like quotes about time (and holes). What's next? Rush lyrics?

"Time is a gypsy caravan - steals away in the night, to leave you stranded in dream-land." - Rush, Some Goddamned Horrible Song From the 90s That The Man I Didn't Marry and His Rush Loving Friends Made Me Listen To and Pay Good Money to Go to the Tour Where Neil Peart Utilized the Sounds of Breaking Glass and a Woodblock Amongst All His Show-Offy Drum Fills That Were Probably Sweetened by a Drum Tech Hidden Beneath the Stage

Write back if you're not too busy. Maybe you have something to announce, too?

P.S. I'm sorry about that crack I made Saturday night about your lack of squishy dates [someone was talking about their fondness for eating dates. I don't know what to say, except, it was funny at the time]. It was just too funny to pass up.

P.P.S. I'm also sorry I almost missed the second curtain call yesterday. Yes, I am still thinking about that. The actors had weird looks on their faces, which I can't seem to get out of my mind. Troy in particular. I'm sure it was character-related. The whole acting business is kind of a mystery to me. I'm already a bit sensitive about my timing of the curtain call, and of course I think everything is all about me. Who knows. Anyway, my bad. It was kind of funny, Saturday night, when I went backstage to talk to Mariko about the opening after the show. I won't bore you with my comments, but she assured me that I was fine, and then said, "It's called Acting, Irene!" But not in a snotty way. And then she hugged me. She is the nicest person in the entire fucking world. Can I go back in time and be her when I grow up? With maybe a teeny tiny bit more body fat? I mean, I may want to change the whole fabric of the universe, but I'm not greedy.

...

In other news: this morning I finally got through to all the people I needed to speak to re: my mom's PET scan. The appointment has been scheduled, they have the authorization, and I got the address. It took all morning and I had to talk to the office manager at the doctor's office and give her a whole big old lecture on customer service and my mom's health and how this type of shit negatively affects her, but finally, by 3 p.m., the whole thing was settled.

And now I can breathe.

...

See, I mocked Rush and Neil Peart up there, but really, Neil asks the questions that people have been asking forever: Why are we here? And then Neil answers his own question: "Because we're here." And as stupid and simplistic as that is, sometimes it's a good enough answer.

Roll the bones!

[I'm giggling again...]