Tag Archives: turkey sandwiches

It’s hard to exist.

I’m struggling with existence again. As usual. It’s so lame. And it’s also the least lame thing ever.

An old friend texted me a few minutes ago saying, “I hear you’re some kind of comedian now.” And I texted back, “I’m not sure what I am. What are you these days?”

I was riding the subway on Monday, and I was eating a turkey sandwich. The turkey sandwich part isn’t so important, except that the train was crowded and I was dropping lettuce on myself and I felt sort of bad, but not that bad because the woman sitting next to me was eating an apple.

In an attempt to avoid eye contact with any Q Train passengers who might be watching me eat, I started studying advertisements. One in particular caught my eye. For a few reasons:

1. It was for a book and I like those.

2. The concept for the book turns the author into a whore.

3. I’ve long thought about writing a book just like this. Well, sort of like this:

“Publisher’s Weekly” ascribes this book to the “stunt-blog memoir genre”. There is a gimmicky feel to this genre, but it can be done really well! I don’t care if Oprah plugged it, I really enjoyed Eat, Pray, Love: One Woman’s Search for Everything Across Italy, India and Indonesia. Shit was inspiring. I also enjoyed Danny Wallace’s book Yes Man that inspired the Jim Carrey movie I didn’t see.

But as far as stunt-blog memoirs go, this has gotta be one of the most stunt-bloggy of them all. Maybe I’m just upset I didn’t think of doing it myself. I mean, how can you really go wrong when the backbone of your stunt-blog memoir has these kinds of stats:

IF OPRAH WERE… A NATION her 51.4 million weekly viewers and magazine readers would equal more than the population of Canada (33 million), Spain (40.3 million) or Argentina (39.9 million).

IF OPRAH WERE… A PILE OF GOLD she’d be equal to 24,000 14-karat gold bars.

cnnmoney.com reported in January that Oprah ranked second only to Google as the biggest brand newsmaker of 2006. Behind Ms. Winfrey were Amazon, eBay and iPod.

IF OPRAH WERE… A NATIONAL ECONOMY what she’d pump into the U.S. economy would be slightly more than the GDP of the Bahamas. See more here.

The only thing left to do now, now that I’ve accepted I’ll probably never figure out the big existential questions, is figure out what to spend 365 days of my life doing that I can convince a publishing house will make a memoir and make them money.

Actually, my old friend texted back to tell me what she is these days, and it sounds like the perfect title for a stunt-blog memoir: Nomadic Barista.

Shocked Looks of Disbelief and Such

Well, this isn’t a particularly new topic seeing as a Google search yields over 8 million results for “going to the movies alone.”  I agree with Randy from result #2 in his 2004 rant: “Movies are geared for people to be alone, yet every time I mention to someone that I went to a movie alone, I get a shocked look of disbelief at my actions… and I don’t get that.”  Randy also questions that awkward American tradition of going to the movies on a first date.  Yeah, I’ve been there.  It was me and an unemployed white rapper who was soon to be a police cadet.  When he called to confirm our plans he was making a turkey sandwich, so he said he was going to make me one, too.  Yeah.  Then he didn’t.  He thought it was a big joke.  Showed up to the theatre SANS sandwich.  Let me emphasize this:

I may joke about a lot of things, but I never joke about sandwiches.

That said, I get great pleasure in going to the movies alone.  It makes other people feel bad for you and I can use all the misplaced pity I can get.  So, I decided to make a list of my most memorable solo experiences at the movies.

  1. Wall-E  Scene: Weekend matinee in a Bethesda, MD shopping mall.  Well-groomed children who have been told never to venture onto the Green Line are accompanied by grandmothers with canvas bags containing their knitting needles and Metamucil.  Anyway, this was a great experience because there’s so little dialogue in that movie.  And I liked how the robots were kind of androgynous.  And I liked all the fat people on the space station.  And I liked how the general consensus from the rest of the theatre was “Well, that was different” at the end.  The one possible downfall of seeing a weekend matinee of a Pixar film, of course, is having your pedophiliac motivations discovered.  So do control yourself.
  2. Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason Scene: Lower Manhattan.  This is the perfect movie to see by yourself because Bridget Jones will inevitably be more pathetic than you are.  More importantly, when Colin Firth and Hugh Grant promise turkey sandwiches you’d better believe they deliver. 
  3. Harold & Kumar: Escape From Guantanamo Scene: Chinatown, Washington, DC, weekday matinee.  This was great because there were two other people in the theatre, both alone, both male.  And there I am in the back of the theatre, female, alone, laughing more than they are at a movie seemingly geared for dudes.  If I could be reincarnated as any gay man, hands down, Neil Patrick Harris is my choice. 

P.S. Someone found my blog via the tag “violent baby jokes.”  This makes me infinitely happy.  Another person searched the words “Is Kathleen Turner gay?” to find my blog.  This just makes me laugh.  And feel ridiculous for being a little curious myself.  One thing is sure, they did not find the answer here.