A post in three parts

September 4, 2007

1) I know, it’s super-annoying when people tell you about their dreams, but I have to. I HAVE TO.

Because last night I dreamed that I got an urgent email from George Clooney.


Hey there–

Please tell Kinan to get some nice boiled wool for my visit. I’ll come by this afternoon for a fitting.

~G.C.

In my dream, we had accidentally told George Clooney that we knew how to sew, and then he would not stop harassing us about suits he thought we were going to make him. (?!?)

As is also true in real life, instead of just declining to do something I didn’t want to do, I did it, but was super passive-aggressive and irritated the entire time. I kept whining and complaining about how if GEORGE FREAKIN’ CLOONEY wanted a new suit, couldn’t he go BUY ONE from some overpriced designer? And then Clooney cornered Kinan and me and demanded to know if we thought we could make him a nice shirt with puffy sleeves to go with his new suit, and we kept subtly suggesting that we were really terrible at sewing puffy shirts, and wouldn’t he rather have a puffy shirt as created by Marc Jacobs? And finally he said: “So are you saying you don’t WANT to sew me a puffy shirt?” and we said “No, no, we’re not saying that…”

And he was kind of hurt and said that if we didn’t want to sew him elegant suits and puffy shirts, couldn’t we have said so earlier? And then we all stood around awkwardly and I said “Hey, um! I really liked Syriana!” even though I hadn’t seen it.

2) This weekend we went to a party where a man kept miming kneeing Naomi in the groin as a joke.

3) You know how people who are not WASPy like to give their babies names that, to them, apparently SOUND WASPy? You know what I mean! Things like Bentley and Tisdale? Naomi and I have figured out the Platonic ideal of names like this.

“Chappaquiddick! Hyannisport! Montauk! Come get some spaghetti!”

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