Oh. You know. Same stuff.

My friend Steph and I talk about once a year. Both of our birthdays are in December and we make a point to call each other – usually she calls me on my birthday which is before hers, I’m out or my phone is turned off or for some other reason her call goes unanswered, and then 3 weeks later, I call her and we connect and chat. One phone call a year. You would think it would be easy to fill a conversation with a years worth of stuff, but when it gets down to it and someone you haven’t talked to in a long time says “What have you been up to?”, my stock answer is ALWAYS “Oh, you know…same old things.”

After I got off the phone with Steph last December I realized we caught up pretty decently, but it’s hard to cram the actual interesting things that happen over a whole year into a year-end wrap-up. Like, in 20 minutes you don’t have time to mention the really bizarre, fun things. For instance, last year I won a diamond necklace at work. And then a week later I entered another work contest and won a basket of Jonathan haircare products. (That’s Jonathan of Bravo TV’s Blowout. The man who looks like Gaston from Disney’s Beauty and the Beast but also is not afraid to cry. About hair.) And then I won $20 from my boss like 2 weeks after that. And then I decided I was on a winning streak and bought a bunch of scratch tickets and the streak quickly ended. I went to Pittsburgh. I tried duck, double cooked pork, green tea ice cream and catfish all for the first time. (While I do tend to overeat, a foodie I am not.) I saw Joseph Arthur and Neko Case and Jenny Lewis and a Journey cover band. I ate mozzarepas at the Atlantic Antic. Last week even, I saw Paul Weller for goodness sake, but did I even write anything about him? No! I don’t even know why. I do plenty of things, but the best answer I can ever think of is “Oh, not much” when someone asks me what’s up.

I’m sure that if you called me right now and you said “What did you do this weekend?” I would give you that stock response. And yet, it was maybe the bestest weekend ever. This weekend I did what I now consider the perfect Friday activity – making quesadillas and fresh salsa and guacamole and watching a Netflix movie. In this weekend’s case, it was Jesus Camp. This is the second thing I’ve seen in as many weeks about Evangelical Christians in America. Before that, Cinema Companion and I watched Friends of God on HBO. Both were objective looks at the scary religious right epidemic sweeping the nation and the polls and our children. Both also featured Ted Haggard, who was the head of the New Life Church in Colorado and was recently disgraced because despite preaching for family values and the morals the Born-Agains love so much, it turns out he can’t decide what he likes more, meth or dudes. You can’t make this stuff up.

So sure, watching crazy 6-year-olds go “la-la-lo-la-ca-ca” and claim that they are speaking in tongues is amazing, but the most amazing part of the weekend was attending Lily Allen’s soundcheck at SNL. Not at dress rehearsal. Not at the show. At her sound check where 5 of us and the sound check guy got a private two-song performance from Miss MySpace and it was kind of the most amazing thing ever. I didn’t bring a camera (but would also have felt sort of stupid using it) so I have no concrete proof, but my uncharacteristic euphoria should be proof enough. Me, my man, some friends. Fifteen feet away from Lily as she sang “LDN” and “Smile”. Kind of amazing. If you call me, remind me to tell you about it because chances are, I might not bring it up otherwise.

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