October 15, 2007

Random Internet Searches May Be Hazardous to Your Health.

Okay, so here's what I was doing. Feel free to laugh. It's a long and somewhat bizarre story.


I was finishing up washing some dishes, when a precariously placed cookie sheet leaning against the dish drainer dislodged a very nice ceramic casserole dish that was evidently precariously placed as well, unbeknownst to me, and the casserole dish fell on the floor, dropped, and broke.


I shed a few tears--sad ones for my poor dead casserole dish, and embarrassed, frustrated ones at my propensity for dropping and breaking things, even though we now have linoleum on the kitchen floor instead of tile. I'm sure that in the long run I'm costing us money in terms of frequency of replacing breakables. I actually then had a few moments of total paranoia that there's something seriously wrong with me because of my tendency to drop and break stuff.


So, in my paranoid moment I went online to see if I could Google, like, some kind of support group for people who drop and break stuff a lot. Or perhaps find out if I had some kind of horrible neurological disorder. Somehow, one of the search results was the IMDB entry for Drop Dead Fred (a rather amusing movie). I got distracted, and it occurred to me that I hadn't seen Phoebe Cates in anything in a really long time. I checked her entry and found out that she has "retired" from movies and is now essentially Kevin Kline's kept woman (well, okay, housewife and mother of his three children).


Then I checked Rik Mayall's entry, wondering if he'd done anything else I'd heard of. I noticed that he had been in an episode of the BBC show Jonathan Creek, which I quite liked. I clicked on the entry for the main actor, Alan Davies, who plays the crime-solving magician Jonathan Creek and is cute in a goofy and oblivious sort of way. Now we get to the point of this blog entry.


To my surprise, the first listing under his filmography was a film version, currently in production, of Angus, Thongs and Full-Frontal Snogging, from Louise Rennison's series of Georgia Nicolson novels. Alan Davies plays, I think, Georgia's dad. AND--here's the clincher--the director and co-writer of the screenplay is Gurinder Chadha, who directed Bride and Prejudice, Bend It Like Beckham, and Bhaji on the Beach. Whew! I realize that was a long and roundabout way to find out this information, but I guess I'm...uh...sorta glad I broke the casserole dish and freaked out and looked up Dropping Things Syndrome online? No? No. Kinda, but not really.

2 comments:

TadMack said...

Awww, on so many levels!

First, don't feel bad about the stupid Dropping And Breaking Syndrome. I still tear up when I think of this gorgeous long-necked, lead crystal vase I had, which, while I was cutting flowers to go into said vase, I somehow knocked over. And of course, it shattered. In my front yard. Whereupon I stood and wept. My neighbors probably thought I was insane.

Second -- Alan Davies as a DAD!? No! He was my TV hair crush. Not anyone's DAD. Eew. Anyway, who's the daughter for this curly haired Dad? And if they make him do something normal with his hair, I ...I won't watch it. I might not watch it anyway. Again: YA novel. Being made. Into a Book. Even with the obliviously cute Alan Davies? Trouble ahead.

Third -- you have a remarkable ability to distract yourself -- which probably led to the Dropping and Breaking thingy anyway - just distracted. It's the artistic mind. You can't escape.

It's what makes you you, and it's why I like you. Because you're as weird as I am.

Mary Witzl said...

I had a celadon green pot with fitting lid on a table in my bedroom -- a pot I happened to make ages ago when I lived in Japan. While turning a huge plant on the table, I managed to knock this pot over and it broke into so many pieces I could never repair it. Honestly, it broke my heart. My own creation, shattered by my own hand! And now I can't proudly point it out to friends and say, 'I made this.'

Wish this breakage had led to something interesting, but sadly it didn't. Sniff.