2002-04-15 | 5:31 p.m.

corduroy licorice would often think fondly of the salad days, but not so fondly of the rice cake days. his mom and her silly diet fads...

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i saw monsoon wedding this weekend. i don't have too much to say about it. it was ok. the script and acting were a step above soap opera-level quality. the cool part was to peek into such a unique culture�so alive with silken, flaming color and age-old traditions. the native music was great, too. beyond that, the film didn't curry my favor as i thought it might. (sorry for the groaner there). i enjoyed director mira nair's first film, mississippi masala, more than this latest offering.

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this morning was the best. i woke up to the sound of rain--one of my favorite things--and rolled over to see that i had a whole hour left to snuggle in my flannel calzone. rockin' ace.

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in my unflagging pursuit of ever more feminine and feather-soft hands, i recently purchased udder cream. c'mon, don't have a cow. it's just that i fell victim to a clever pharmacy marketing scheme that plots to pass farm animal products off on a more bipedal sort of species. ever-expanding target markets, you see. rejevunating sales in a mature product cycle. the circle of life, and what not. fortunately, they stop one step short of using the slogan: "strong enough for a broad, but made for a bovine."

besides the intensive moisturization the product has delivered, i quite like the "how to use" directions section: "wash udder and teat parts thoroughly with clean water and soap to avoid contamination of milk. for teat cracks, apply in sufficient quantity to fill crack and surrounding area. for aid in softening swollen udders following calving, apply liberally twice daily with gentle massage."

i probably shouldn't have this lotion at work. my coworkers might find this to be grounds for sexual harassment. at the very least, a public zoning violation.

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speaking of bipedal species, my mom broke at least one of her two ankles this weekend when she was rushing over the garage steps in her fashionable, but slippery, slides. i hate the idea of her being hurt and in pain and it just reminds me of my parents' coming golden years. i don't want them to grow old.

which reminds me of one of my favorite emo phillips jokes. he says his father once pulled him aside to say, "son, one day i'll pass away and then you'll take care of your mother." emo responded, "oh father, don't talk like that. i don't want to have to take care of her."

of course i'll be there for my folks when they need me. i just don't like to think about it, is all. old ain't fun.

unless you're maude of harold and maude. i finally saw it last night and really enjoyed its wry wackiness. i don't know why it took me so long to finally get to it, especially after it's been heralded as a such a maudlin cult classic (i'm not apologizing for that one!).

while watching, i kept thinking what a wes anderson feeling the film had in the way it was shot, the humor and the music. i'm guessing anderson has been greatly influenced by director hal ashby's eye and writer colin higgin's words.

the film had a great message...to reach towards life so that you have something to "talk about in the locker room." to treat each day like an escapade and to create little magic moments among the humdrum ones. very ameli� in philosophy, you see.

it also made me feel good that a quirky old lady like maude could be loved and appreciated for all her oddness...by a younger man, no less! and she has 40-odd years on me! nice reprieve from the governor of romance, i tell you what.

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