Here I am in Scott Bullock's house in Durham, NC, and find myself in a technological quandary. Scott jettisoned his landline phone service in favor of a wireless lifestyle; however, since my iBook is apparently a squeamish little bunny rabbit, it won't hook up to his high-speed ethernet. Which puts me on his ancient Celebris 6200 typing in the blog without access to any of the cool pictures we took today of the various goings-on. I sometimes wonder about those of you reading this thing with a dial-up account; I hope my relentlessly self-involved picture-posting doesn't bum y'all out unduly.
The rest of the Pink House crew left today, leaving only me (a Chapel Hill orphan) and Liz Mann (a longtime Heel born and bred) to navigate our way through some of the heaviest downpours I've seen since the last time we tried to make a movie. Thank god we had wrapped shooting by yesterday or else we'd be back in the same boat, Noah-style and shit. The rain provoked a 3.5 hour nap on my part (which is probably why I'm up and on crack here in the middle of the night), before making the adventurous trek to Kenan Stadium to watch my beloved Heels get their asses handed to them by the University of Texas, coached by our own turncoat leader, Mack Brown. It was good to get back inside the stadium to see the sea of baby blue, and I'm so used to watching our football team lose that it wasn't even all that bittersweet.
I do have to say this again, though: today's sophomores are way fatter and wear way less clothes than they did back in 1990. It makes for a Ruebenesque sluttiness that is half tragic and half sexy. I'd be interested to know if eating disorders are on the way down, since everyone seems so happy showing their bulging love handles, but knowing this country, they're all probably fat, slutty and STILL barfing.
Posted by at September 14, 2002 8:09 PM