tavie.com

I hate it when the hotties get down on themselves. (I only use the word "hottie" ironically, you understand, for I think it a silly word.) But the Gosling is quite attractive, you know. (Although criminally underage. ;)

Last night my sister and I had the following conversation:

Tavie: Who turned off the air conditioner? It's like hell in here.
Kirsten: It really sucks living in a family full of fat people.
Tavie: WHAT????? ::starts throwing things and screaming and generally having a big fit:: ("You horse-toothed, big-nosed jackass, how dare you, etc")

For although I understand that I am fat, and when strangers (usually nasty children) allude to it, I generally ignore it, but Kirsten has to learn that she, of all people, must not use it as a weapon against me. I will crush her every time she does it.

Not that she is a bad sister, you understand, but when she gets in a nasty mood I have to bite back. One is not superior simply because one is the only thin person in a family full of obese sacks of gloop.

In other news, saw "The Producers" on Broadway yesterday with mom and sis and Tante Joan. It was most excellent, but the fellow who wasn't Matthew Broderick (I TOLD my family we wouldn't get to see him when they first got the tickets-- I just knew) really sucked in the role of Leo Bloom. He was way too Broadway for it. It's a very Broadway show, but Leo Bloom has to have some degree of mousiness. This guy was a great singer and dancer, but he just didn't work as Leo. However, Nathan was so wonderful as to completely make the aforementioned flaw irrelevant. The chick who played Ulla ("You Swedish tease, you'll bury me") was vunderfyool as vell, and of course reminded me of my own Swedish meadowlark.

As I was telling my mom yesterday about the glory that is Matt, I caught myself referring to him as "my little love". My mom said, "You're his Auntie Mame!" and it is so true. I am totally his Auntie Mame. I like to think I'm Goose's, too. Only in their case, it's ME writing down the words I don't understand and asking them about them later. ;)
I am, however, their Rosalind Russell Auntie Mame. I am most certainly not the Lucille Ball Auntie Mame. No way, no how.

(Zero Mostel just walked into the room and shouted, "Tavie! Go to verk!" And so I must now get up and shimmy my way through another list of numbers. Goddag!.)

Why are you in Tavie's head? 11:02 AM | shower me with attention