Up on Sunday, watching the Yelly Show, a.k.a. The McLaughlin Group. It’s killed my Meet the Press buzz–footage of Karl Rove in 1972, with large hair, big brown-framed glasses, and rockstar-svelte frame. I’m gonna switch over to VH1 and hope for a Bret Michaels marathon.
So. “The Heavily-Fortified Green Zone.” Why is it never just the Green Zone? It’s like in the Odyssey, where every time they’re mentioned, it’s “sweetly laughing Aphrodite” and “the wine-dark sea.” Or, for that matter, “stately Wayne Manor.”
I went on an internet date last night, and the woman looked nothing like her photographs. She was smart and nice, and it was a fun chat. But I think she could sense my disappointment, which I felt bad about.
The internet dating thing works for me–I was seeing this awesome girl for a few weeks that I met, she had a ritzy gig and actually flew me out to Chicago where she was working. Lots of fun.
There is that dice-roll, though, of the photo-to-reality ratio. Sometimes you see a black-and-white portrait of a woman with an 80s hairstyle; i.e., high school yearbook photo. In my generation, that’s 20 years ago!!