My Southern Cross to Bear

01 April 2003

No April Fools jokes, here. That's not my style.

Sunday was a beautiful day. It was so beautiful that I didn't want to stay in the house. I wanted to go to the water, walk around Venice, finally see the canals everyone talks about.

Problem was, everyone in Los Angeles had that exact same thought.

It took an hour to get to Venice, and then there was absolutely no parking. So we drove up to Santa Monica, got a cup of coffee and walked along the shops... which were all closed because it was a pretty Sunday and everyone was trying to get to Venice.

I got a blister on my ankle so big (because pretty days mean strappy sandals, which mean feet that cry) that it resembled a gummi worm. I'm so sexy!

All-in-all it took four hours to drive to the water, walk down a deserted sidewalk, and drive back. But I still had a blast.

The other night somehow we all ended up at a country/western bar in a place called (wait for it) Kagel County (okay, now you can giggle). Sometimes it's like people don't even know me, and for some reason they take me to country/western bars and push me in with this big smile on their faces like, "Look! It's Texas! Doesn't this make you happy?"

I worked very hard to not have to hear country music every day ever again. And then here I am, listening to "You Never Even Call Me By My Name" for the one millionth time. And for the first time since I graduated high school, I saw a woman wearing ropers and a tied-up western shirt, boot-scootin' with the best of 'em. I told my friend that fifty percent of the girls I went to school with looked like her.

"I wish I went to your high school," he said. "I would have gotten laid a lot more."

"I'm not too sure about that, cowboy," I said. "But my high school reunion is this summer, if you wanna give it another shot."

"Awesome."

The country theme continued last night.

PAMIE
Oh, look. Lucinda Williams is playing at Amoeba next week.

STEE
Ah, Lucinda!

PAMIE
Ah, Lucinda!

You have to say it all wistful and Southern, the way her fans get when they describe her music. Suddenly they're incredibly Southern, with a bit of a Matthew McConaughey twang and lisp. They lean back and almost close their eyes as they talk about how this woman changed their lives.

PAMIE
"Ah, Luchindah! How you touch me sho!"

STEE
"Ah, Luchindah! I can feel you raw and deep inshide me!"

PAMIE
"Luchindah! Your music schmells like my mama'sh apron shtringsh when she pullsh me tight, sho tight, sho very tight that I schmell pancakesh and teardropsh!"

STEE
"Luchindah! Oh, Luchindah! Your music schings to me like a forgotten lovah!"

PAMIE
"Your music shounds like the backsh of my mama'sh handsh -- all weathered and worn, schmelling like hope and broken promishesh!"

STEE
"Luchindah! You remind me of the time I let a man slap me in the middle of the street, a man I didn't know, a hand I hadn't kissed, juscht to remind myschelf what it felt like to be a woman."

PAMIE
"Luchindah! You let me schwirl my toesh in my childhood, lapping up giggles like mulberry wine."

STEE
"Like scho much mulberry wine!"

PAMIE
"Like scho much mulberry wine!"

STEE
"Luchinda! When I'm with you I remember the taschte of pain, the taschte of longing, the tascthe of a boy who hated me for the way I loved him scho. Oh, Luchinda, you smell like my daddy'sh jacket after he schpent another night late at 'The Officsche,' a placshe of broken sorrowsch and nightmare waterfallsh."

PAMIE
"Luchinda, your muschic shoundsh like a lullaby -- my mamash voicsh calling up to the heavensh, beggin' daddy to come home again, worrying hard enough to make the planetsh weep on top of ush, rain pouring in every hurt in our headsh. Your musich soundsh like moonshine and star wishesh."

STEE
"That'sh sho beautiful."

PAMIE
"That'sch Luchinda."

Currently reading: Pretending the Bed is a Raft. Well, now, why would this tiny paperback cost $19.00? That makes no sense. I got it at the wonderful Katy Budget Books, home of all my teenage page-turning, and one of my favorite places in the world.

Finished:

A Year At the Movies: One Man's Filmgoing Odyssey. You start reading it and suddenly you're finished. As a former theater-worker, I appreciated the chapter where Kevin worked at the art house cinema as an usher. This book really makes you want to go to the movies, find another film festival, and makes you miss Mystery Science Theatre 3000 all over again.

The Hours. I shouldn't have read it so close to seeing the movie. I really couldn't separate the two, and spent most of the time thinking about how close to the book they adapted the movie.

Pre-order a copy of Why Girls are Weird. Or you can read an excerpt.

Hate "The Man?" Order your copy from your local independent bookstore.