Nobody Knows Anything

The other night, Darin and I headed to Oakridge Mall down in San Jose to a)go to Cheesecake Factory to eat their yummy new Fried Chicken Slider appetizer as our dinner and b)go to the movie theater and see the Spiderwick Chronicles, to see if it was okay for the kids. The sliders were indeed yummy, and then we went to buy tickets.

The movie showing was not up on the gigantic LED board.

We went to the ticket seller.

“We cancelled that showing,” he told us.

Then the family behind us walked up and said, “Don’t you have an 8:25 showing of Spiderwick Chronicles?” and he had to explain again.

I have never heard of a theater canceling a showing. Certainly not at one of these big mall theaters. Once again: I learn something new every day.

So we went to Borders, where we spent an inordinate amount of time and money on books (like we don’t have any around here already…). We started a basket and periodically walked by to drop a few new books into it. On one round, I excitedly showed Darin my new find.

Howdunit Book of Poisons (A guide for writers) by Serita Stevens and Anne Bannon.

He gave me a look.

“Hey, it could be useful!” I said.

He nodded. “That’s what I’m worried about.”

Via Otto (who gives me all his good links), Meet the World. This is some serious brilliance.

And, err…is he serious about “Don’t know where Iraq is”? Because I would have sworn, seriously, that that would be the number who “Know where Iraq is.”

The loudest sound in the world
is the click-click
of the ballpoint pen
your husband uses
to mark changes in the text
of your finished novel
while he sits in bed
and you’re trying to sleep.