The Anniversary Of Momentous Events Or Denial Ain't Just A River In Brazil (Because It's In Egypt. Duh.)

First of all, Happy Birthday to my niece Jenni, who turns nine today.
One of the things that I remember most about the day Jenni was born was that later that evening there was a truly spectacular display of the Northern Lights.
If I recall correctly, it was also that weekend that, while out drinking with my friend Eric, a girl actually gave me her phone number, the first time such a thing had happened to me.
I remember waking up, hung over, the next morning and realizing what had happened.  Flush with a feeling of success, I said to Eric, “I got a girl’s phone number!”
“Yes,” he said, with a sort of paternal pride, “you did.”
Then he added, “But you can’t call her.”In a voice that was much smaller and much less triumphant, I said, “What?”
He went on to explain that he knew this girl and that she was trouble and that if I called her and began to pursue her, I would inevitably end up falling in lover with her and having my heart torn out, and so I had to “play it cool,” as it were, which meant that I couldn’t call her and that I had to pull back and avoid becoming attached at all costs.
Sleeping with her was, of course, acceptable, and was the ultimate goal, but I had to make sure that the whole thing was simply a meaningless hook-up.
I had to admit that he was right, for the most part.  I mean, I have my doubts that I would have fallen in love with her, but in the sober light of day it was clear that she was trouble.
After all, when I met her she was married and had a boyfriend.
She wasn’t exactly what you’d call a class act.
In the end I never even got a meaningless hook-up out of it, and, contrary to Eric’s hope, the receipt of her phone number was not the necessary boost to my ego that would make such a thing a regular event.
Anyway, the point is that nine years ago some momentous things happened, foremost of which was Jenni’s birth.
I went out this morning and finally did my grocery shopping.  Not much of note happened while I was going from aisle to aisle, apart from the brief appearance of a woman who looked like a slightly chunky version of Pam from The Office.  She looked enough like her to be her sister, and was even dressed the way Pam dresses.
However, as mentioned, I only saw her briefly as she appeared in an aisle long enough to grab something, then headed straight for a register and was long gone by the time I finished shopping.
When I had finished shopping I made my way to the self-checkout where a bachelor was just finishing up.  As he was paying I began loading my items onto the belt and while I was still doing so the cashier whose job it is to hang out by the self-checkout to help out just randomly came over and started ringing up and bagging my stuff.
I thought, “Okay…” and was uncertain as to whether I should be grateful or insulted.  I mean, was she just so bored that she figured she might as well do it for me, or did she look at me and assume that I wasn’t competent to work the self-checkout on my own?
Whatever the case I was soon home once again, where I began working on a picture that I had foolishly started late in the afternoon last Wednesday.
Checking my e-mail, I found, thanks to “Zalfiro,” that there is a third episode of Dexter which I had not yet seen, so I downloaded that and watched it.
After that it was back to work on the picture, and now I’m taking a break from that and doing this.

Back To Being Just A River In Egypt Department:
Anyone who has seen Brian’s latest entry over on Becoming a Firefighter has learned that he is no longer in denial about the fact that he is a dead ringer for actor Jeff Daniels.
He’s been denying it for as long as people have been saying it, so I’m glad to see that he’s finally accepted the truth.
Also, as Michigander, I want to thank Brian for his recent efforts shilling for the state of Michigan in TV spots.
Oh, wait.  That actually is Jeff Daniels in those commercials.
Quick creepy Jeff Daniels fact:  In the movie Fly Away Home, Jeff Daniels and Anna Paquin, who was at the time 14, played the part of father and daughter.
Nine years later in the movie The Squid and the Whale, they worked together again, this time playing lovers.
Can I get a huge ewwwwwwww?
Anyway, to help Brian ease into learning to live with the fact that he looks like Jeff Daniels, I thought I would point out that things could be much worse.
I mean, you could look like that guy who was born without fingernails and sweat glands, and is completely hairless, from the original version of The Hills Have Eyes, and who played the principal in the Motely Crue video for Smokin’ in the Boys’ Room.
Or how about Tor Johnson, star of Plan 9 From Outer Space?
Think how much worse your life would be if you looked like Hitler.  Or Bin Laden.  Or Carrot Top.
Worse yet, you could look like the celebrity I’ve been accused of looking like.
(And no, I’m not going to tell you who that is.  If you can’t see it on your own that’s your problem.)
All I’m saying is that there are worse things in life than looking like someone who’s most famous for a scene featuring him sitting on a toilet and having explosive diarrhea.

Anyway, I suppose I should get to work on dinner, as I have to be somewhere in about an hour.
My condo association is having a meeting tonight to give the condo owners a chance to meet and to create “activity committees” that will plan future events.  I have no intention of joining any committees, or participating in any of the events, but I figure I should at least check it out and meet some of my neighbors.
I’m sure it’ll be a blast.