does everyone hate gwyneth?
This flea market is like a lost lover. We both love going through piles of old stuff, sneezing over the same moldy books, laughing at the same ugly children in school pictures – I blame myself for waiting so long to commit. Those aspirations of wealth and society that was the promise of junk mail catalogs where I once worked kept me from admitting it out loud. I want to wake up at 4:30 in the morning and drive to the market and spread crap out on a blanket. I want to argue over two dollars with people from China, I want to sell 1970′s Pyrex bowls to Japanese women who take them home on a plane and resell them in Tokyo. I want to know the buying habits of all these cultures, watch the micro economies of shoe fashion, kitchen trivets and lamp shades rise and wane.
Meanwhile, across town it was Oscar Party at Doug’s. Quarter bets on who wins each category. Cliff was providing commentary.
“Oprah is strapped into that dress. Her girdle’s gonna snap and slices of pizza will come flying out.”
Toy Story 3 is the only movie I’ve seen this year. I lost a lot of money betting on Woody.