A little-known fact about Strawberry Fields Whatever's seminal 2013 trip to Martha's Vineyard is that I missed my initial flight to Boston! My "behavior concept" for our Martha's Vineyard trip was to play up to my Beatles-archetype (JOHN LENNON), so I definitely got that one off to a strong start. I think it's pretty obvious that if one Beatle were going to miss his flight to the vacation he was taking with two of the other Beatles, it would be John. Paul McCartney is probably two hours early to every flight he's ever taken, and makes sure to bring along a couple granola bars and one of those neck pillows that looks like a toilet seat.
I arrived at the airport 55 minutes before my flight left (it was traffic's fault) and tried to check in on one of those automated flight terminals ("flight terminals") but then it wouldn't let me because they cut you off after an hour. A lady rushed me to the front of the check-in line and then a zillion different airport employees brusquely asked me why I hadn't checked in online beforehand. "Because I don't have a printer?" I offered weakly. I asked one of the nicer ladies if she thought I was going to miss my flight. "It's not looking good," she said, "But you never know."
At customs I asked a handsome hippie-looking airport employee if I could cut to the front of the line so I could make my flight. He said no, which was really fucking dumb of him- I was at a charismatic place in my life, and my hair looked great that day. So I waited in the customs line behind this Good Charlotte-looking guy holding a hockey stick for an entire half-hour, FLIPPING THE FUCK OUT. I was shaky and anxious and really wished I could just know if I was going to miss my flight or not. I was very angry at the Good Charlotte-looking guy for not inviting me to go ahead of him.
Once I got to the part where you take your shoes off and put your bags through the conveyor belt, the airline went really far out of their way to help rush me through. They put me in line in front of everyone and then I realized I'd forgotten to take one of those little plastic bags to put all my liquids in and I started whimper-yelping "I need one of those bags for my liquids! For my liquids! I need a plastic bag to put my liquids in!" and the Air Canada lady, who was pacifying and I LOVED HER, was like "Shhh, it's okay, take off your shoes, honey," and brought me a plastic bag for my liquids. I finished up with that part of my "adventure" five minutes before my flight was due to depart and proceeded to run barefoot across the airport toward my gate. I arrived panting, but was too late. I hadn't even just missed my flight. The airplane was already rolling away.
I really resent the airport for putting me through all that, by the way. They shouldn't have let me try to make it. It was a stressful and unpleasant experience that I endured for literally no reason.
After it happened, I calmed way the hell down and was mostly just stoked I could go get myself some food and caffeine. I only had to wait another couple hours to get on the next flight to Boston anyway. I'd noticed this really cool-looking baked good as I was booking it down the moving sidewalk, since that's just the sort of person I am, a person who can't not notice a cool-looking baked good, even at the most inopportune of moments- it looked like a long, conical flowerpot, and in my mind I imagined that the recessed center was filled with caramel. I think the first thought I thought after missing my flight must have been "Oh awesome! Now I get to go eat that crazy flowerpot thing!"
As it turned out, there was no caramel involved- it was just a muffin. But it wasn't just a muffin, it was also a psychotic muffin. You know? Look at that fucking behemoth! It's psychotic. It's psychotic, it's a behemoth, and it's a muffin. That's it. Those are the only things it is.
I chilled out at my new gate, Gate 66, eating my psychotic muffin (it was carrot-flavored, a little chalky, but mostly excellent- muffins are my favorite food; I love them all), swigging from a bottle of Diet Coke, reading a tabloid about Cory Monteith's death and listening to "One Of Us Must Know (Sooner or Later)" on headphones. I Instagrammed a pic of my psychotic muffin accompanied by the caption I feel like the cosmic reasoning behind my missing my flight to Boston was so this psychotic muffin and I could meet each other. I still agree with myself.
LIZ'S THING OF THE WEEK: A 1994 Issue of Bikini Magazine That I Found in My Parents' Attic on Tuesday
Obviously one fun highlight for me this week was when John Strohm from Blake Babies left a comment on my Adventures in Blake Babysitting post and told me I could come to Nashville and babysit his eight-year-old. Also, speaking of Blake Babies, I got back to L.A. on Wednesday night to find a package from my friend Mike which included this beautiful GRAY VINYL 7-inch of "My Sister" by The Juliana Hatfield Three, plus a 7-inch of "American Jean" by Helium. That was basically the nicest Boston-to-L.A. transition a girl could ever ask for, and I'm superthankful.
Anyway before leaving Massachusetts the other day I went up to the attic at my fam's house and found a 1994 issue of Bikini magazine, with Liv Tyler on the cover. The cover story's by Thurston Moore and it starts like this:
Liv Tyler buzzes my buzzer about 1 p.m., a good half-hour before I thought she might appear. My wife, Kim, and I have a newborn baby named Coco Hayley who has wrecked sweet havoc on any semblance of a sleeping schedule for us. I drag myself out of bed. "Take the elevator up to the 7th floor," I croak through the intercom. Then I rush back into our bedroom and throw on some jeans and a T-shirt that says "Satan."
Hahahahahahaha/yikes!! The article's actually wicked boring but there's lots of pretty pictures, and I like that they went with "You're Liv-in All Over Me" as the title. Liv Tyler + Dinosaur Jr. is a cool life concept - like, soft and dreamy and ethereal + melancholy in a snarling, punchy sort of way.
Also in the same issue there's an interview with Parker Posey and I'm so into this pic of her eating a hot dog and wearing orange fishnets. I want orange fishnets! And a hot dog. Orange fishnets + hot dog is maybe even a better life concept than the thing about Liv Tyler and Dinosaur Jr.
JEN'S THING OF THE WEEK: AN ENDLESS HARVEST
On Wednesday I picked up my CSA share. This time it came with a book that kinda looked like a thick coloring book. I assumed it was filled with recipes I couldn't eat (half true) and didn't really care about it. Later Charlotte texted me, "Did you pick up your vegetables? This book is great!", I was like, really? I pulled it out and looked at it. AN ENDLESS HARVEST: Getting the Most out of Seasonal Produce Year-Round. OK, cool. I start flipping through it and slowly become completely obsessed by it. I ended up sitting there reading it for about an hour an a half. Did you know you can store carrots in a bucket of saw dust for the winter to limited success?! I do. It's more highly recommended to just store them in a plastic bag in the fridge but, whatever. I learned what vegetables should be in sealed bags. Wrap eggplant in paper towel in a bag. OK. Leave some bags open. Some in containers. I kept texting Charlotte about how much I loved it and we decided next time we pick up our shares we're going to make cocktails together afterwards and color in this book. My new favorite book! When I haven't been reading AN ENDLESS HARVEST I've been reading Americanah by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, which I am also super into.