Sunday, January 29, 2006

 

True Grit

Several months ago, I took one of those goofy online quizzes to determine which "Golden Age of Hollywood" star I was most like, and which leading man of the era was right for me. I was delighted to discover I was Katharine Hepburn. Who would my leading man be? I was hoping for the wit and self-awareness of Jimmy Stewart or Cary Grant in The Philadelphia Story or the confidence and intelligence of Spencer Tracy in Desk Set.

Nope. I got John Wayne.

Rooster::::bleeping:::: Cogburn.

Yesterday, my new mattress was delivered. A couple weeks ago, I had tried -- by myself -- to flip my lumpy, taco-shaped mattress to get a few more months' wear out of it. That resulted in scattered books, a barrage of curses, and two cats dashing into the closet for shelter.

But yesterday, the delivery guy picked up my old mattress with ease and carried it out the door with just one hand. My heart fluttered, and I thought, "I need a man like that."

Then I remembered the quiz.

Shit.


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