Thanksgiving, accidents, drunk people, cops and a poem.
2007-12-02/3:01 a.m.

Thanksgiving happened, and that was nice.
turkey in the fireplace

Johnny tended to the turkey for hours, which paid off in the end. Tasty! Anna and I made a bunch of other stuff and a bunch of people ate and drank all day. Good times. I made an apple pie and a pumpkin pie, which was weird without Mike. But not as weird as I thought it would be. Johnny carved a skull and crossbones into the apple pie crust to make it more badass. I would say that it worked. I ate the shit out of some stuffing and will do so again at Christmas when I'm with my grandma and not just making her recipe. Holy lord, I love stuffing.

Now, skip ahead a week!

Last night I was driving home late from my friend's place in Burbank. I got to Hollywood in like 10 minutes because there was no one on the road and there were all green lights. When I hit hollywood though, there were more people and it occurred to me to be on the lookout for drunks. Every time I drive at night here I'm very aware of how many drunk people there are driving. It's terrible. So I'm thinking "I wonder if everyone driving tonight is drunk?" when CLANG! Some idiot runs right into the back of my car. I was stopped at a red light with other cars and he had no idea. I was jostled and everything fell out of the dashboard- the cassette ejected, the glove compartment opened etc... I grabbed my camera and threw my car into park, fully expecting him to try and run away. He just sat there though, totally out of it. When he finally got out of his car- I could smell the booze on him from about 5/6 feet away. Right then, a cop pulled up next to us and I waved at him and told him that we had an accident. He asked us to pull into the gas station parking lot across the street. I got into my car and did that...I looked back and the guy was still sitting at the intersection clearly not understanding what the cop was telling us to do. When he finally did it, the cop asked him if he was drunk. The guy said no... the cop said "I don't think I believe you" and called in some other cops to do a ton of sobriety tests on him.

My car is pretty okay. The bumper was pushed up a bit and now the trunk sounds bad when you open and close it, I'll definitely get those things fixed. I've also noticed that the alignment seems to have been messed up when I was driving today. I have to call the insurance (he and I have the same insurance it turns out) and get it taken care of. This is my first real accident, so I don't really know what I'm doing. The second fleet of cops arrived and took the police report. One teased me the whole time. Claimed my car was stolen, then made fun of the paint damage, then asked me if I lived in my car when I told him that my address was not current. I said "Oh, you're funny" and he said "don't let it get out, it'll ruin my reputation." Then he said that he was just happy to talk to someone sober for once. SCARY! He asked what I was doing out so late by myself as a lady. I told him and I told him that I work late so this is my usual schedule. He asked where I worked and turns out he's a huge Ramsay fan. He was all "have you seen Kitchen Nightmares?! I love it!" So, likable cop, that was cool. Then he flirted with me and I thought to myself "I can't date a cop." I don't think he'll actually call me (he joked that he had my number when he asked for it for the police report) so I won't have to worry about it.

The guy that hit me was arrested and taken away in the police car while I drove myself the remaining 4 minutes home (no joke, whatta pain that it happened just before I got home) and went to bed. At 5am. The only injuries I have are: my right knee is bruised and swollen from smashing into the steering column, my right arm is sore and my neck is a teeny bit sore. Right away it hurt my head but the pain went away pretty quickly. I think I'll be alright.

I jinxed myself yesterday when I had lunch with my friend Julie. I told her that I'd never been in a real accident before but that I feel like my days are numbered in LA where everyone drives like crap or drives drunk. Damn my stupid big mouth!

And now for something that I got from Mikki. I don't tend to like poetry because I think it's mostly boring or completely unrelatable to me. When I first read Sylvia Plath poems in 9th grade I was blown away that it could be written like that. She was so angry and mean. I liked it! Mikki has turned me on to Billy Collins, who appears to be much more clever and less angry. I like that too. I've read this one 5 times just tonight. The oligarchy line is beyond perfect to me. From her:

He has this poem called Suddenly that he wrote because he had read a book about fiction writing ("It was a bad time in my life," he explains, in the intro), and the book said that the worst thing bad writers do is try to add momentum by inserting the word "suddenly" into the action.

Suddenly, you were planting some yellow petunias
outside in the garden,
and suddenly I was in the study
looking up the word oligarchy for the thirty-seventh time.

When suddenly, without warning,
you planted the last petunia in the flat,
and I suddenly closed the dictionary
now that I was reminded of that vile form of governance.

A moment later, we found ourselves
standing suddenly in the kitchen
where you suddenly opened a can of cat food
and I just as suddenly watched you doing that.

I observed a window of leafy activity
and, beyond that, a bird perched on the edge
of the stone birdbath
when suddenly you announced you were leaving

to pick up a few things at the market
and I stunned you by impulsively
pointing out that we were getting low on butter
and another case of wine would not be a bad idea.

Who could tell what the next moment would hold?
Another drip from the faucet?
Another little spasm of the second hand?
Would the painting of a bowl of pears continue

to hang on the wall from that nail?
Would the heavy anthologies remain on their shelves?
Would the stove hold its position?
Suddenly, it was anyone's guess.

The sun rose ever higher.
The state capitals remained motionless on the wall map
when suddenly I found myself lying on a couch
where I closed my eyes and without any warning

began to picture the Andes, of all places,
and a path that led over the mountain to another country
with strange customs and eye-catching hats
suddenly fringed with little colorful, dangling balls.


A note I found in a drawer.
The Extra Lens and Adultery.
Books are beautiful.
Ira Glass made me feel better about things.
Something that happened yesterday.