thematically fickle

Since Mrs. G let me host her Slow Cook Thursday yesterday—in which she gave me an introduction so stellar that I thought for certain she had confused me with somebody else—my attention has been otherwise occupied such that I could not come here and say something that really needs saying. Examples of what diverted me:

• I had what will go down in the record books as one of my top-ten best Driveway Moments evah. An interview with acclaimed photographer Herman Leonard left me crying and then lunging for my camera. I’m going to his show at the Morrison Hotel Gallery in La Jolla tonight (it runs through February 7th). If you’re into photography or jazz or breathing, then this man is for you. (Will link to the interview when it posts on our local KPBS website.)
• Shortly after the above interview, I was given proof that God does, in fact, exist: Javier Bardem was interviewed on NPR. He was humble and self-effacing and gracious and lovely and steamy and sexy and intelligent—basially the whole package—and if I wasn’t already enthralled with him then, I’m approaching panty-throwing status now. His accent was luscious and very thick but I’m certain I heard him say, “I love Aaryn Belfer.” (Please, please do NOT email me to tell me he looks like ass in his No Country For Old Men pageboy. He’s an ACTOR. He ACTS. He did it for a ROLE. The reality is that he’s the shiznit. Period.)
• I attended my book club gathering where I drank wine and ate foods from the Dominican Republic while discussing the complicated and amazing book, The Brief and Wonderous Life of Oscar Wao, by Junot Diaz. It’s the best book I’ve read in, like, forever and I would recommend you go get it today if you’re in for a heartbreaking adventure and violent history lesson about the DR. The homemade rum cake my friend Carrie brought got all the ladies loopy (we were definitely indulging in what Diaz would call “nerdery”) and I decided that, if for some reason things don’t pan out with Javier, then I’ll take Junot as a runner-up.
• I sweated out my next column.
• I awoke, as usual, to my daughter’s shrieks umpteen times in the night.
• I held my shit together.
• I didn’t scream at her because I finally get that she’s really not trying to piss me off.
• I spent two hours with her at the pediatrician’s office today. And who doesn’t want to spend two hours at the pediatrician’s office with their child when they could be doing something stoopid like going to the zoo? It’s not like it’s 73˚ outside or anything.
• Everybody is okay. So don’t worry. Just following up and getting some advice on the sleep issue.
• I put the kid down for her nap, sent in my column, answered a bunch of emails.
• I read all the many wonderful/funny/kind comments left on my blog.

Which brings me to what I’ve wanted to come back and say:

There is absolutely nothing wrong with my labia and I have no intention of stapling, snipping, tucking or tightening (well…maybe tightening…) any part of my vagina. T’was but a joke. Irony, if you will. But all your feedback was hilarious.

Have a great weekend, internets!