Phelan was along, as drummer girl deuce for Bird Names, and so it was really a full tilt slumber party between me, her and Nora. We had tea and toast and I don't remember all the debates, there were many and they were joyful, but 'bout 2 a.m. we capped it with Nora holding forth on why Angelina Jolie is the only celebrity she really hates. She was brushing her teeth in the living room as she told us. When Nora returned to the bathroom to spit, Phelan turned to me qith a quiet confidence, "I don't hate Angelina Jolie at all."
This morning the girls got up and I used my disposable to snap a picture, because I wanted to remember it for the rest of my life. The way they were standing against the porch rails, I thought of that famous shot of Carly Simon and James Taylor where there are looking over their shoulders at the camera, and James Taylor has an evil sheen to him. We re-enacted as best we could, with Phelan and evil Baby James.
Midmorning we set out on a second walk, to show Phelan to the park and vice versa and she took Super8 of some horses in their paddock/pen, and Arlie told us everything he knew about the park. Which was a swift volume. Then Nora and Arlie started a convo-thread that lasted the whole walk that was a no holds barred feminist theory throwdown of well articulated big ideas about why dudes have to read when they take a shit. Nora's new tattoo is a giant scrolly quote from Nietzsche's The Gay Science; she will drop the full weight of her Hiedeggerian brain on you. Arlie was not buying any of it. And then, suddenly, amidst it all the shitting and repression, Ryan Seacrest ran past us shirtless, his white celebrity teeth gleeming like highbeams.Posted by Jessica at June 25, 2008 10:02 PM | TrackBack