Well, they did ask if I'd go to the pediatric floor as a "helper," whatever that means. But as I told the charge nurse: "kids? Not really my thing." Don't get me wrong. I like kids. I get along well with them. In fact, I have the sense of humor of a six year old and my niece still calls me up and says, "what is tai chi?" and we fall out with the giggles. (It's from a commercial. Say it 2390579750 times. You'll see how funny it can be.) But "helping" with pediatric patients? No, really. Thank you. NO.
Dudes! I so want to win that Grammy auction with JC. You know, hang out with him for the video shoot and all. Because I would dearly love to try and make the boy laugh, or something, because did you see those radio station meet and greet and eat or whatever pictures from the other day? He looked like he wanted to weep with the sheer boredom of it all. The only time he showed even a flicker of interest was when somebody's dad got up there for a photo, man. That was wonderful.
Gotta give the Chasez credit, though. He's game. 20935809703 photos with fans who are surreptitiously trying to grab your ass along the way? Right, let's do it. But you just know he was thinking, "looks like I picked the wrong day to quit snorting heroin." Pobrecito.
So, um. Yeah! That's what I was saying. Make him laugh or something. But I'll tell you, most likely it wouldn't work. I have this thing lately, a defense mechanism thing, where I even see someone half-way likely and they no longer exist. They disappear from human ken. Well, from my ken, anyhow, and it's funny, because I'll know it's going on and laugh about it to myself but I can't stop it. It's like, SELF! Hottie at 2 o'clock. We should see if they have a sense of humor. But we're already shaking our head with a smile, because they're gone. Even if they give us the eye: gone.
So JC, on set: I'd be like "hi, JC" and he'd say "hey, honey" in that voice, and I might try to keep it going with "so, what do you use in your hair?" but really, from that point on it would be over. I'd say "um. I gotta" and make some vague hand motions and he'd clearly be thinking about that joint in Carlos's day planner, and I'd end up at the buffet, perfectly happy. So.
Wow! A pale blue sky with perfect spreading stripes of orangey pink. It's a JC day, I tell you!
self! how do you spell "surreptitious?"
I have no clue
dammit! one of us should know. ten billion years of college and a degree in english and we can't spell surreptitious? what kind of a world is it?
time for coffee?
I love you, self. you always break it down