401: the 30 days of jasmine – day 16

So originally I wasn’t going to write anything until Saturday morning, but I had to tell you all about this man I saw at Borders. I was there buying a present for Khloé, who graduates from business school on Friday. She has a wishlist on Amazon, but I wanted to bring her an actual present instead of just, ya know, printing out an invoice, folding it into an origami crane to make up for the fact that I’m giving her a scrap of paper, and then present it to her while she gets posher gifts from people who have money.

But I digress. So I’m in the cookbooks, looking for her present. Can’t find it, so I wander over to the DVDs and pick something out. Before checking out, I cruise over to the magazines so I can pick out something for the train ride home. I usually hit the magazines first but when I got to the store the magazine racks were blocked by suburban matron types killing time before the 7:30 show of Wicked a few doors away.

Women with major French manicures and gigantic heads of hair flipping through The Lovely Bones or Morning Has Broken: A Couple’s Journey Through Depression by plus-size supermodel Emme. Underdressed women who have hair like Pam on The Office. Hipsters trying to look cool by the European editions of the fashion magazines. Why didn’t these fools know to leave me alone with the periodicals? Bitches.

The magazines section was clear by the time I was ready to check out, so I made another pass to see if I could score a hit of Jane magazine. And I was able to, and this time I was met by the sight of a man wearing a parka, dark to match the rest of his clothes. Bald with a full beard, I thought maybe he was talking to himself until I looked closer and noticed that he was talking alright, but not to himself. He had a full on conversation going on with Oprah Winfrey herself. Who cares if instead of the woman herself she was represented by her glossy photo on the cover of her glossy self-titled magazine? This guy had jokes, he had lines. He leaned on the rack, hands planted on either side of Oprah. Step aside, Ladies Home Journal and Self, this man had to get his mack on.

You’ll notice that I’ve given up blogging for every day of the 30 days of jasmine, but don’t be fooled! You must still be observing the 30 days of jasmine with the same level of mirth that I specified when i began.

So don’t give up on me or on you? Besides, we’re almost there. And did I tell you that the 30 days of jasmine actually won’t end until April 1? Only because Jacinda, tired of my ass dragging on birthday plans, did the sensible thing and made dinner plans for Friday, March 31 for me, her, and anybody else who is interested. I’m really looking forward to this.

Love,
Jasmine

PS: Hey — Matt Irvin? HAPPY FREAKING BIRTHDAY YOURSELF!

*songs*
Tito Puente – Varsity Drag; Dusty Springfield – Take Another Little Piece of My Heart; Devendra Banhart – The Body Breaks; Delta 5 – Now That You’ve Gone; Jay-Z – Dirt Off Your Shoulder

*links*
“jasmine looks like” (Google)
Boobie Name Generator (BT)
“Diversity lacking in crowds at large museums” (CST)

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~ by Jasmine on March 17, 2006.

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