hypothetically speaking

but i’m still taking my pills

I was driving home from work yesterday when I saw a man in the far right lane of the highway riding a motorcycle without a helmet talking on his cell phone.  It made me laugh.  I guess I laughed because I initially thought, “How dangerous is that?” and then I was immediately trying to figure out what he must be discussing on his phone:

“No!  I think I’m lost!  Didn’t you say the Puff Daddy video was being shot in Austin?  I’m just driving around this highway and it doesn’t look blocked off to me.  Where’s Mariah?  What?  Austin!  Austin!  What?  BOSton?  I’m supposed to be in Boston?  Shit.”

As if to complete my little head fantasy, the radio began to play “More Money, More Problems.”  At this point I was in pure giggles, as motorcycle boy was now with his head turned to talk on the phone without wind resistance, and his big puffy jacket was flapping behind him.

I had my fun, so I turned the radio station.  No kidding, on the other station was playing “I’m Coming Out.”  I’ve never really been able to listen to a Puff Daddy song with the original at the same time.  I compared the two songs for a little while, and then got bored.

I don’t know what animal or insect bit Eric lately, but he’s been on this kick.  I didn’t really notice it until my mother brought it up when she was here two weeks ago.  “Eric sure has been talking about marriage and babies a lot,” she said.

“Well, Mom,” I said, “I think he’s just making conversation.”

But he had been starting many sentences with “If we ever got married,” or “If we ever had a kid…”  Now, this is usually followed with, “You’d better not…” or “I’m going to make sure you don’t…” or something like that.  Anyway, I had noticed that and just kept quiet.  But talking about our hypothetical marriage and our hypothetical family has led to a new conversation…

He’s trying to name our hypothetical baby.

[scripty]
ERIC
What about Frederick?

PAMIE
Are you kidding?

ERIC
I like it.

PAMIE
He’d be called Freddy.

ERIC
Yeah, I don’t really like the nickname.

PAMIE
Plus I’ve never known a Freddy that didn’t turn out to be a dick.  Freddy’s and Keiths.  They all end up assholes.  They drive Jeeps.

ERIC
I knew a few Keiths.

PAMIE
What about Hunter?

ERIC
What is she, a rich girl?

PAMIE
For a boy.

ERIC
Oh, that’s okay.

PAMIE
I like that.

ERIC
What about Gunther?

PAMIE
Are you high?

ERIC
What?  Gunther!  It’s a name you can yell.

PAMIE
Always have to test out the yelling.

ERIC
Oh. Can’t name the baby Hunter.

PAMIE
Why?

ERIC
He’ll get called Cunter.

PAMIE
It’ll happen if we name it Gunther also.

ERIC
I suppose you’re right.

PAMIE
What about Eleanor?  I think that’s pretty.

ERIC
Elly?

PAMIE
Eleanor Peterson.  We’ll call her Ellem En Oh P.

ERIC
“L-M-N-O-P!  Get down here!”  I kind of like it.

PAMIE
June?

ERIC
No month names.  All month names are trashy.  And seasons.

PAMIE
I don’t know many Winter’s.

ERIC
Or Springs.

PAMIE
How is Autumn trashy?

ERIC
No April Showers or May Emeralds or anything like that.

PAMIE
Crystal?

ERIC
Are you kidding?

PAMIE
Yes.

ERIC
Okay.  No seasons.  Nothing that rhymes with genitalia.

PAMIE
“Mulva.”  What a great episode.

ERIC
Yeah.

PAMIE
Noel?

ERIC
No Noel.

PAMIE
Oh, that was forceful.

ERIC
Dated one.

PAMIE
Oh.  You dated a Noel?  I didn’t know that.

ERIC
Well, we–

PAMIE
Oh.  Okay.  No Noel.  Got it.

ERIC
Unless that doesn’t mean anything to you.

PAMIE
Right.  No Noel, no Jennifer, Liz–

ERIC
We both know.  There’s no need to list.

PAMIE
I’m just looking at my options.

ERIC
Ha-ha.

PAMIE
Jessica?  That’s a pretty name.  I don’t like Jessie too much, though.

ERIC
That’s true.  I’ve never met a Jessica that wasn’t pretty.

PAMIE
Me too.  All very pretty Jessicas.

ERIC
Susanna?

PAMIE
No.

ERIC
Why not?

PAMIE
Because I know that’s the name of the girl you lusted after in high school.

ERIC
Oh.

PAMIE
We should give her a name that sounds sexy.

ERIC
Who wants a sexy three year old?

PAMIE
Come on, it’s important that she’s confident in her name when she gets older.

ERIC
What, like–

PAMIE
Like Genesis or something.

ERIC
After a Phil Collins band?

PAMIE
I knew a girl named Genesis.  It sounds like a stripper.

ERIC
Exactly.  Plus she’ll be called Genny.

PAMIE
No Gennys.  I was compared to a Jennie for too long.

ERIC
Not by me.

PAMIE
No, not by you, but enough that I always feel inferior to any Jenny I ever meet.

ERIC
What did he know?

PAMIE
Exactly.

ERIC
I love you.*

PAMIE
I love you, too.*

ERIC
And it really doesn’t matter what the kid’s name is, because what’s important is that you and I are together and in love and happy and we realize the importance of our relationship.*

PAMIE
Oh, honey.*

ERIC
Can we name it Stud?

PAMIE
Who are you?

( * –writer’s interpretation)
[/scripty]

So, I stopped just erasing the tons of e-mails I got to this place and finally went there.  I found an old friend in three minutes.  She returned my e-mail in ten.  What do you know?  It really works.  Go lurk or post yourself.

So, there’s no Squishy tomorrow or Friday.  There will be the brand spankin’ fresh-from-New-Orleans entry on Monday, however.  I’ve got house sitters over the weekend, since Lillith has been a bit under the weather.  House sitters.  How grown-up does that sound?  Basically it’s Weldon watching the digital cable while Martinique runs around trying to get Lillith to eat, but we’ll just call it house sitters.

I met with the costume designer for Polaroid Stories on Monday.  I opened the door and she said, “Are you Pam?” and I said, “Yes, are you the girl who decides what happens to my hair?”

I explained the HBO audition(s) that I have the week after we close and my desire to be able to appear mainstream again right after the show is over.  She seemed understanding, and she said that she’d do more research.  Originally she was picturing my head shaved except for that long frizzy bangs in the front– dyed BLACK– and then some frizzy stuff around the back of my neck.

God Bless HBO.

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