I dreamt that my friend showed me her new phone. It was an old school flip phone, small and white like an angel’s marshmallow snack. She showed me how it worked and I watched like I was learning about an artifact. How do you get your emails? I asked. She looked back at me, and smiled wickedly. I don’t.
As previously noted I have an intense online relationship with Jeni’s ice cream, by which I mean she emails me about her new flavors and I STOP WHATEVER I’M DOING AND GO THERE TO EAT THEM. The newest, Supermoon:
Blue violet and vanilla marshmallow swirled together like easter friends. I don’t know if I want to eat it smear it on the walls of the bedrooms of my unborn children but either way I want it in my hands.
I spent most of yesterday grinning like an overjoyed idiot. It was one of the best days in recent memory, and lets remember that I have both BEEN MARRIED AND BEEN ON A HONEYMOON AND ALSO TO GOLDEN GLOBES recently, so that’s saying a whole lot. (Also, obviously, all of those things were also pretty great.) First, I got to meet and hold my brand new perfect beautiful niece Ruby, and be her mattress for a while:
And also spend some time hanging with Blaine and Jason, learning the bitter truth about what happens to ones lady parts when one gives birth, which in its own way, was quite joyous, as nobody describes crazy things better than Blaine Barbee. As if that wasn’t enough, I then hit the road with Julien to Kinston, NC, and dined at Chef and the Farmer, Chef Vivian Howard’s farm to table restaurant that I have been clinically obsessed with for months:
We stuffed ourselves silly with grits and turnip greens and collards and pork rinds and country ham and dirty peanut rice and guinea pot pie and rutabagas and apple moonshine cocktails and other things I can’t remember, as we ordered EIGHT THINGS. PS JULIEN ALSO BROKE HER FACE.
SEEKING TWO FACE CASTS / PLS CONTACT WITH DETAILS.
Yesterday, in one of the stranger Hollywood but not Hollywood afternoons of my life, I had the privilege of attending a Golden Globes ‘gift suite.’ Basically a bunch of jewelry designers, skincare makers, and charities gather in a penthouse and wait for celebrities to visit their booth, so that they can tell them all about their product or cause, in hopes that the famous person will then champion the face lotion / cause. The celebrity or out of place TV writer gets sort of marched around the room and handed free things, and a sort of stressed out ‘host’ has to introduce them to each vendor, and genuinely try but mostly mispronounce their name every time perhaps as Backah Brunsettler, and then hold the free things the famous person gets handed, because famous people and lower level TV writers cannot hold things with their hands. It was a strange glimpse into the life of a person who just gets given things for no reason. Highlights were the Vagina cleaner, the woman who gave me a sample of her perfume then pitched me her pilot idea, and last but not least, Viola Davis, who floated behind me with an entourage of what appeared to be granddaughters, generously thanking everyone, giving each person time and attention, showing the rest of us how it is done.
ATTN: PEOPLE WITH BOOBS. Today, on we Live in the Future: instagram will now tell you when you need a new bra and where to get it. It will also tell you which overnight bags and shoes and lip gloss and also you know, what a girl you went to high school with who you have not talked to in sixteen years had for lunch, so you know, also still the basics. Listen to instagram. Maybe it’s the Russians swaying your opinion or maybe its just an actually effective, non-scary algorithm that directs you to things that do fit your style and needs based on a quick scan of every picture you’ve ever posted. WHO KNOWS! This bra brand LIVELY started following me, and after a few days of pictures of pretty, laid back torsoes, I succumbed, and clicked, and purchased. And you guys (more specifically: girls) THEY ARE THE BEST BRAS I HAVE EVER OWNED. They are soft and supportive and simple and sleek. (If you have the kind of sweater cows that cause back problems, that people stop to look at, I cannot help you, but for my average lot, they do me just fine.) TRY A ONE TODAY PLEASE OKAY! - RUSSIA
Sheila: Hey, can I give you a few jobs for the Kilroys fundraiser?
Me: Sure thing, how can I help?
Sheila: Well first can you find somewhere that makes tiny cupcakes and –
Me: YES YES YES YES YES YES YES
Sheila:….and order fifty and bring them to –
Me: ALREADY DID IT, IT’S DONE
Nail person: what’re you thinking?
Me: Brown! I have a brown in my head.
Nail person: Sounds like a personal problem. Tell me about this brown in your head.
Me: a bright, happy pilgrim brown, crayola marker drawing of house brown, cartoon chocolate or wood or poop. Luminous, optimistic neon brown.
Nail person: That’s not a thing.
Me: what’s not?
Nail person: Happy pilgrim. But here are 11 other kinds of brown. Anger brown, dirt brown, sad brown, coffee brown –
Me: I’ll take the disco caramel.
Nail person: it’s called burnt leaf.
Me: That’s what I said.
GOOD AFTERNOON, and welcome back to the joyful spin cycle in my head! Today, the decor. When you wed beneath fall foliage, you really don’t need much, so we just went with some simple Decorative Wedding signs (lovingly crafted by Morrison’s awesome bro John and his wife, Jacy):
And then some simple basic everyday framed pictures of Cracker at every table.
We also put bowls of skittles at each table because skittles. Our florist is the kind of gal who simply picks mountain wild flowers the day before and brings them over, so that the whole thing seems like a beautiful coincidence. Here’s the main big guy that my Dad HAPPILY loaded on his truck when my Mom attempted to take it home and preserve it, and even more happily took it back off when it definitely didn’t fit:
As for the cake, I just so happen to have gone to high school with a phenomenal baker, Jessica. She made three beautiful chocolate pound cakes, one of which we ate with our hands the next day, another of which we will eat with our hands in one year:
New Years, a few years back, Morrison and I spent an absurd amount of time dreaming up a cobbler truck business, with eight very specific flavors with very specific names. And so, we also went the cobbler route at the reception. Jessica made these wondrous mini jars of rosemary blackberry and peach ginger cobbler:
Guests dumped the cobblers over vanilla ice cream, like the perfect kind that comes from a bucket. Special thanks to our other high school friend, Missy, for helping make the table look like PINTEREST COME TO LIFE THAT ALSO YOU CAN EAT.
I was reading a short story before bed in which the writer described, in great detail, the feeling of Winter having left, Spring having not yet arrived. The whole world gray and melting and wet. And I realized it’s been years since I saw / felt that time of year, that weather moment. In LA, it’s pretty much the same, year round, except for the four days a year when it rains and people stay inside crying or ram their cars into each other. Reading about that weather time, I missed it. That wet air feeling. The thought of not having felt it in so long made me so sad. I want to find wherever it’s gray and wet and fly myself there and stand in the middle of it. Don’t rain and clouds unlock something inside of us, air out the sadness? Don’t they create a perfect backdrop for big and hard questions, deep thinking? And if we don’t live through them, do we miss out on this part of our thinking entirely?
After trying numerous (albeit drug store) brands of lipstick / stain, I am convinced that there is no such thing as a lipstick that does NOT make you look like you literally ate a bunch of lipsticks for lunch, then took all of the lipstick crumbs that fell out of your mouth and then rubbed those around your mouth and onto your teeth. I must conclude that when you see a woman with nice looking lipstick that is only on her lips, she has actually just implanted a device in every single other person’s eyes that projects digital color onto the lip part of her face, because there is LITERALLY NO OTHER EXPLANATION.