Sometimes I feel like Atlanta is a really big, very sophistcated place, and then sometimes I feel like we're living in Mayberry-plus-high rises. I opened the [online] paper this morning to see this headline:
Will Ferrell, Jake Gyllenhaal work up a sweat in Atlanta. So here's the big news: when they aren't filming, they work out. Sometimes Jake eats out at chi chi restaurants. Whoop de doo.
Slow news day, y'all?!
What always sort of amuses me is that none of the places ever mentioned as being celebrity hangout spots are EVER places where I go.
Now, if these folks would just frequent the Kroger on Lawrenceville Highway, the Publix on Shallowford, or the Tucker CVS, I'd spot them in a second.
A couple of months ago we learned that some equipment for the film was burglarized. That looked good. You stay classy, Atlanta!
I loved the 2004 film Anchorman. It had a lot of stupid humor but it was fun seeing all the 1970's clothes and retro interiors. After some idiotic films lately, I hope Will Ferrell is back to form and will make us laugh with the sequel.
On to other news.
I spent most of yesterday sitting outside, watching my son and his friends and teammates play tennis at a chi chi swim and tennis club north of here. Our singles players lost, but our doubles boys, including Michael, WON.
YAY!!!
Michael was a very happy camper last night.
The child with the hat over his face is new to the team. He's a sweet boy, but every time I tried to talk to him, or joke around a little bit, I got nowhere. Either he doesn't get my humor, or he just thinks I am weird. I don't know.
At one point, Matthew and Colton were slugging it out, and one of their opponents slammed the ball so hard it bounced over the 15 foot high fence separating the courts, bounced down behind a woman, then popped up and hit her on the fanny. She gave a little yelp. Bet she never thought she'd be goosed in the middle of a tennis match. LOL
All of us on the sidelines were giggling. The boys apologized and smirked, of course.
I am spending an exciting day waiting around for the washing machine repairman to come back and finish fixing our laundry. Michael's floor is so covered with laundry one can barely walk in there.
