Friday, September 12, 2003
Remember to Forget
Whew. That thing I wrote yesterday was heavy. It's a well-kept secret, but the Internet's favorite blogging son (that's me, by the way) is very deep.
But now it's September 12th, a whole new day. 9/12 doesn't carry all that horrible baggage that its predecessor does. We can all return to our workaday lives without feeling guilty about enjoying ourselves on the day after the infamous anniversary and just forget all that nastiness. Unfortunately, my workaday included having the "fixtures polished" by a "high-priced fixtures polisher" since it seemed that everyone in my little black book was still a tad bummed about 9/11. I couldn't find a single desperate starlet-in-waiting who felt like recreating all the wonderful end-of-the-world sex so many of us stumbled into like a foot into a bucket in a 1920's screwball comedy. I'm not above giving something back to the adult comfort industry every now and again. God knows they'd done enough for me in the lean years before I took Hollywood by storm and couldn't even swing some action from the replacement hostess at the Olive Garden in Calabassas.
Hmmm...I wonder if she still works there, seating budget-conscious diners behind a neverending avalanche of breadsticks and giant salads. I'm suddenly feeling like I can't be alone tonight and might be up for a challenge. Besides, I can't exactly call the "polishing service" because I think my "buffing technician" may have mistaken my wallet and Rolex for the forty-dollar tip I meant to leave her on the nightstand. I've really got to get better about falling dead asleep the second the "brass is sparkling."
So, gentle readers, I suggest you soak up the suddenly clear air of September 12th and get started with the business of forgetting. We all forget in our own ways.