OBNOXIOUS AUNTIE TIME
Hello. I am back from my grandfather's funeral. Thank you very much for all of your condolences and well-wishes. Gramps will be missed, but he had a pretty great life, and it was nice to see so many friends and family, in spite of the sad reason we were all there.
The best part was that I got to meet my new niece, Riley. Here is a photo:
“Hi, I am the cutest baby in the whole world.”
Here is her big sister, Maddie, who is my favorite two-year-old of all time, because when I asked her right before I took this picture if she was a cowgirl, she replied, very indignantly, “No! Princess!”
Sometimes the princess gets tired of riding her horse, though, so she has to ride something else.
Anyway, enough bragging about my genius nieces. On the way home there was no in-flight entertainment (I know! I saw SKY HIGH on the way out. Um, hello, could there BE a finer film than SKY HIGH? I think not. But still) so I read the Notorious B.I.G. article in the new Rolling Stone.
Am I the only person in America who didn't know that Suge Knight (ALLEGEDLY) ordered B.I.G.'s hit, as well as Tupak's (he wanted to get P. Diddy, too, only they missed), and that the LAPD and LA TIMES are trying to cover the whole thing up (ALLEGEDLY) to spare the city a 300 million dollar civil suit brought about by B.I.G.'s mom?
Well, that's what the article says. It's like a movie, for God's sake. Only it's REAL.
On a lighter note, after reading the in-depth article on it ENTERTAINMENT WEEKLY, I won't be seeing the Narnia movie. I liked the books as a kid, and all, but over the years, I have seriously grown to hate stories with talking animals. Honestly, if animals could talk, I don't think we'd want to hear what they have to say. They'd be WORSE than those people I had to sit next to in that restaurant, the ones who wouldn't quit talking about foot surgery.
Case in point: since I've gotten home, Henrietta hasn't shut up for FIVE FREAKING MINUTES. Even at 3:30 this morning, she was YAKKING AWAY. Seriously, she seems to want to tell me every single detail about what happened to her while I was gone.
You know what happened to her while I was gone? NOTHING!!!! She didn't watch any cool movies about superhero high or read any interesting articles in ROLLING STONE or see any cute nieces. Someone came and fed her and Gem, who was kept apart from Henrietta the whole time. THAT IS ALL. SO WHY WON'T SHE STOP TALKING????
So could you imagine if she spoke English? Forget about it (actually, re-read the part where the kids in the book HALF MAGIC by Edward Eager wish for their cat to talk, and you'll have a pretty good idea what Henrietta would have to say if she COULD speak English).
I will be breaking my long-standing policy of not seeing movies with purportedly tragic endings in order to watch BROKEBACK MOUNTAIN (aka the “gay cowboy movie”). I urge you to see it as well, and not just because it co-stars THE PRINCESS DIARIES's Anne Hathaway and RANDY QUAID. Even though, as my brother Matt put it this weekend, there is only one “crying show” allowed per week–and that show is, of course, EXTREME HOME MAKEOVER–I think it's very, very important to support movies in which hot guys kiss each other.
Especially if one of them is Heath Ledger.
Henrietta has grown strangely quiet in the last five minutes, so I better go see what she's up to. If she's sleeping I'm totally waking her up in revenge for the 3:30AM serenade this morning.
I'm glad to be home. Thanks again for the sympathy emails, cards, and letters. You guys are the BEST!!!