Emergency Release Kit

I went to see The Life Aquatic tonight with Chris, knowing that it would make it so I had to drive down to San Diego in the god-forsaken weeest of hours. And knowing that I had only had a paltry four or so hours of sleep the night before. What I didn't know was that I would leave my garage door open while I packed and then go out to load up and find that my garage door had mysteriously been closed. With my remote control inside the car. Inside the garage. The closed garage. I found the manual for the door, but the instructions for using the emergency release kit are hanging from a red pull, dangling from the garage door motor. Inside the garage. The closed garage. I struggled and sputtered and even went looking for instructions online. But there was nothing. Literally -- and perhaps under other circumstances hilariously -- nothing. Eventually, I figured out how the mechanism works. And I was able to get going. But not until well after three a.m. That, combined with the detour on the 405 and the dagblasted fog, made my arrival time now: only moments before five a.m. I have to be in El Cajon at 8:45 to play in two back-to-back performances of this Christmas show I do. Which means I could sleep for an hour and a half or so. Or I could sit here and try and ride it out. Or I could pray that a meteor falls out of the sky and lands on top of me. But I've never really been convinced about the power of prayer.

Oh, and in the melee, I managed to leave behind an important bag containing all of the various shoes I had intended to wear for the next few days. So I only have a pair of tennis shoes with me. And a lot of concert black clothing. Looks like somebody's going to be doing some really unnecessary, giant-waste-of-time-and-money-given-how-many-pairs-of-shoes-she-already-has shoe shopping. And that somebody is me. And in my dizzied state, I'm actually finding myself strategizing how I might just manage to drive back up to Los Angeles in the afternoon and come right back down for the performances I have to do tomorrow. That means I've gone balmy. And that I seriously believe that a girl cannot get by without an amazing pair of knee boots.

I would write a great many things about The Life Aquatic and my experiences at the cinema, but I think it would all be discolored by the gravity of my predicament. And gravity is not a complimentary color on anyone.

Well, at least I didn't forget my violin.