My Boring-Ass Life (Revised Edition): The Uncomfortably Candid Diary of Kevin Smith (24 page)

I bomb over to the vanities to get my hair and makeup removed and run into Sam again. Margaret had to leave early so Ange is removing my makeup today. I ask her if she’s got a menthol blower (the minty apparatus that, when blown into an actor’s eyes, produces tears), and I borrow it to take home for rehearsal for tomorrow. Hair and makeup removed, I jump in the car and head to the hotel.

I get upstairs and collect Jen and Harley for dinner at Gotham. We get to the restaurant, chow down, and head back into the (fairly early) Vancouver evening. Since it’s only five thirty, we decide to hit the mall. However, once we park underground and get up into the mall, we learn it’s only open for fifteen more minutes. This gives us enough time to hit the Sears, where I’m hoping to find an iced tea maker and a new showerhead. It’s a bust for me on both fronts, but Jen finds some bowls, cups and pitchers, as well as a coffee maker.

We head downstairs to go back out into the mall, but some Sears broad tells us the store’s now closed, and we have to exit the building. I tell her my car’s beneath the other building, but she’s not having it, so out we go. We get outside, and I opt to go get the car while Jen and Harley cross the street and hit the Chapters. I circle the building, looking for the entry to the parking garage, but for the life of me, I can’t find it. The second time around, I pass a dude in a yellow and black
Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back
logo shirt. I’m sweating balls, lugging around two bags full of stuff, and trying to hike up my pants while looking for this parking lot entry. A girl stops me to say she’s a fan, but I don’t have the patience or the presence of mind to say much more than “Thanks — I appreciate that,” before moving on. Finally, I hail a cab and ask him to drive around the buildings until I find the garage entry. This does the trick, as five minutes later, I’m getting into my car and leaving that cursed city mall.

I pull up to Chapters, where I’ve gotta jump out and pay for the books Jen and Harley have picked out (as Jen left her wallet back at the hotel). At this point, I’m in a pretty shitty mood, and I bark about having some silence in the car for the five-block ride home.

We get to the hotel and I head out onto the porch to have a smoke. I head inside and hit the bathroom with my lines for tomorrow. I shoot a scene I’m kinda stressing about: one that’s less about making jokes and more about making with the dramatic. I copy the lines down onto another piece of paper, so it’ll help me memorize my monologue. Jen finishes putting Harley to bed, and I ask her if she’ll help me rehearse. I run lines with Jen for an hour and get to a place where I feel like I’ve committed the lines to memory and have made ’em my own. I make with the mentholator and try the speech in tears to see if it still works.

I call Susanah to ask if it’s okay that I used the mentholator. We talk about it for a while, and she concludes we’ll cover it both ways — with and without tears.

Jen and I chit-chat for awhile while she has some wine. We head to bed, where we engage in a little tension-relieving/confidence-boosting sex, after which I fall asleep.

Thursday 19 May 2005 @ 8:17 p.m.

I do my big scene.

Friday 20 May 2005 @ 8:18 p.m.

My first day off in a week, and I still get up at 7:30 a.m. I hit the bathroom, then lay on the floor in the living room, checking email. An hour later, Quinnster smokes out of her room, heading for ours. I stop her from waking up Jen, and talk her into grabbing some Denny’s breakfast. I get her dressed, and when I head into my room to find some clothes, I discover Jen awake, brushing her teeth. I inform her majesty that me and the kid are bound for a Denny’s breakfast, which she declines to attend. She kisses us both g’bye, and we’re off.

Quinnster and I head over the Cambie Street Bridge to the Denny’s on Broadway. En route, we pass a Toys ‘R Us, which Quinnster’s requesting we stop at after breakfast.

Harley’s never been to Denny’s, but at first glance of the menu, she’s in love. I tell her she can join the Birthday Club which would entitle her to a free sundae on or near June 26th. She thinks we’ve passed into Shangri La.

Post-breakfast, we head to Toys ‘R Us, where we buy a bunch of games (Bingo, Disney Yahtzee,
Madagascar
) and puzzles (
Scooby-Doo
,
Robots
,
SpongeBob
), as well as a travel version of ‘Simon’ and some room décor stickers.

Next, we drive around looking for smokes for Jen. We park and take a walk down Granville, stopping in smoke shops I’m hoping carry American cigarettes. I wind up getting three different kinds of Canadian smokes instead, then head across the street to Golden Age Collectibles — the comic store I used to shop at when I lived here back in ‘92.

It’s exactly as I remember it. Everything looks the same, right down to the current release movie posters hanging on the wall. I thumb through two bins full of scripts and discover an entire section of Kevin Smith Scripts, which fills me with mixed emotions: elation, because I was successful enough in my career to warrant my own section in the Golden Age Collectibles script bin where, years earlier, I myself had bought scripts; and anger, as these folks were taking food off my table.

I chit-chat with the manager and sign some Askew merch (Jay and Silent Bobble heads, talking Jay and Bob and Bluntman & Chronic figures). Harley picks out a shirt, and when we go to pay, the manager offers to give it to me for free, as a thank you for signing the stuff. I tell him I’m happy to pay, as I’m loaded now, but if he really wants to thank me, he’ll remove those Kevin Smith scripts from the bin. He agrees; I pay for my shirt, and Quinnster and I head back to the hotel.

We get to the room and show the rested and showered Jen our booty, and tell her about our day. I turn the kid over to Jen and chill for a bit, taking a shower and sacking out in front of the TV. An hour later, I decide to head down to the border to buy Jen her smokes. Jen’s back is bugging her, so she elects to stay home. Harley agrees to go on the adventure with me, so she gets dressed, and we load into the car with the travel ‘Simon’ and the iPod.

Quinnster falls asleep on the ride. I try to wake her up when we get to the border, but she’s out cold. However, we wind up waiting in line so long that she wakes up before we reach the booth. I ask the Customs guy where the nearest WalMart is, and he tells me it’s Bellingham, about twenty miles away.

Back in the States, we stop at the first McDonald’s without a maple leaf dotting it that we can find. Harley gets a Chicken Selects meal, and I get a chicken breast sandwich. Two guys come up to me separately to ask if I’m Silent Bob. I chat ’em up for a few, then head into the play area with Harley. She spends about fifteen minutes climbing up the ladders and slides of the screaming-kid-filled jungle gym room before I usher her out.

We stop to fill up on gas and I look for Jen’s smokes, Marlboro Menthol Ultra Light. Not finding ’em, we head to Bellingham. On the ride there, I call Jim Jackman and we shoot the shit about
Degrassi
and other stuff. Mid-convo, a heavy downpour that makes it impossible to drive drops out of the sky. I don’t know how people can live in the Pacific Northwest, what with all the constant rain.

We don’t find a WalMart, but do find a Big K. Inside, we finally feel like we’re in the good ol’ USA, because there’s so much of everything on display. Granted, it’s all crap, but it’s American crap (mostly made in Taiwan), which is just what the doctor ordered. We grab some supplies that can’t be found in Canada (like an iced tea maker) and Harley asks for some DVDs. I grab
Son of the Mask
for her and
Back to the Batcave
and
Call Me: The Rise and Fall of Heidi Fleiss
for me. We pay and head out.

I stop at two gas stations and a Walgreens to find Jen’s smokes. Loaded up with three cartons, we head back to Vancouver, with Harley watching
Son of the Mask
on the Expedition’s DVD player.

I stop at the Customs gate at the border, and the agent asks to see the letter from Harley’s Mom, granting me permission to transport her across international lines — y’know, the letter I don’t have. Thankfully, the other Customs agent vouches for me as “the guy from
Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back
...” and I’m off.

We get home around nine. I talk to Jim Jackman again, and we decide to talk in the morning, once Linda’s up. Jen puts Harley to bed, and we curl up with
Call Me: The Rise and Fall of Heidi Fleiss
, starring Meadow Soprano. I fall asleep toward the end.

Saturday 21 May 2005 @ 8:19 p.m.

Harley wakes me up at eight, and my throat’s feeling like I’ve got some tonsillitis coming on. Ever since Harley was three, I’ve wound up getting tonsillitis at least twice a year. It’s treatable with antibiotics, but it’s still not pleasant.

I pop in a
SpongeBob
for Harley and play catch-up with the online diary until Jen wakes up. The girls want to go out for brunch, and Jen’s pushing this bagel place a block away.

While they’re getting dressed, Jim Jackman, Linda Schuyler, and Stephen Stohn call. During the call, I try to smoke a cigarette, but it’s just not tasting good. Considering I’m nursing the sore throat already, I decide then and there to go back to being a non-smoker for another year.

When I’m done with my conference call, I meet Jen and Harley downstairs and we head over to the Great Canadian Bagel. I get a breakfast sandwich and a strawberry muffin, with some much-needed vitamin C, in the way of orange juice. Jen and Harley head over to the mall to return a pair of pants Jen bought for Harley yesterday, and I head back to the hotel.

I work on the online diary for a while, during which time I catch up on the parts of
Call Me
I missed when I fell asleep. I check email and write to the Funimation folks, regarding the forthcoming
Jay and Silent Bob Do Degrassi
DVD.

While I’m in the bathroom, Jen and Harley come home. Harley wants to play games, so her and I settle into a hundred piece
Robots
puzzle, while Jen grabs a much-needed smoke. Half an hour later, Jen joins us for the puzzle action, helping to bring it home. Following this, we settle into a few games of Bingo, then get cracking on some Disney Yahtzee, during which Jen heads out to grab some falafel. When she gets back, she joins in the Yahtzee action, kicking both my and Harley’s asses.

I lay down on the bed and check email while Jen sits out in the living room and smokes. Harley comes in to tell me that Jen wants me to go to Starbucks for her. I send Harley to ask her what I’m gonna get in return. Harley comes back to tell me Jen said “Anything you want”. I send Harley back to ask “Anything?” Jen sends Harley back with Jen’s all-purpose notebook, so that I can write what I’m looking for in exchange for the Starbucks run, and we can spare the child the gruesome details of our private affairs. I take a moment to pen the following contract...

In exchange for a Starbucks run, I agree to give my husband, Kevin Smith, all sorts of dirty sex stuff, up to and including anal play.

Signed..........

Witnessed.......

Date.......

Harley brings Jen the notebook, and I hear chuckling from the other room. Harley brings back the document signed by Jen and witnessed by Harley. Quinnster launches into the questions: “What’s it say? What’d I sign? Will you read it to me?” I read her a far tamer, fictional version of the contract, then get dressed and take Quinnster for a walk downstairs to Starbucks, passing the grinning, flirty Schwalbach.

Turns out this particular Starbucks closes at six, so Quinnster and I trek out further to find Jen a latte. We stop in two markets/delis and snag the coffee drink and sundry other items, as well as a bottle of wine for Jen.

We return to the apartment and vote unanimously to order room service rather than brave the pissy Vancouver weather this evening. I change into my woobs, and before long, our food arrives.

We sit down at the dinner table and eat as a family. Upon seeing Jen’s crab cakes, I’m immediately taken back to the Trump Plaza in New York City, where one night years ago, Schwalbach ordered a shrimp cocktail from room service and came down with a case of food poisoning so bad, we had to call the hotel doctor, who wound up giving Jen a shot. Off the crab cakes, I remark that this evening will more than likely end with a hotel doctor injecting Jen’s ass-cheek with some kinda anti-food-poisoning concoction as well.

Dinner leaves a little to be desired. All three of us pick through our unappetizing fare and agree that we should never order room service again.

Post-dinner, I’m revealed to be something of a prophet, as one of Jen’s dishes — either the crab cakes or the cream of potato/leek soup — is disagreeing with her in a big bad way. She’s dragging around a bucket, threatening to hurl. I put Quinnster to sleep, then lay down with the unwell Schwalbach — my Starbucks contract null and void for the night. Midway through a season four
Seinfeld
disc, we fall asleep.

Sunday 22 May 2005 @ 8:20 p.m.

I wake at up 3:30 a.m., unable to sleep. I’m really not feeling well. What I thought might be tonsillitis has turned out to be a head cold, and I’m congested as fuck, unable to breathe out of both of my nostrils. I clear my nasal passages as much as I can, take a leak, and read the news online for a while. On
Google.ca
, I peep an article about the impending release of Karla Homolka, which then leads me to a far larger article that provides all the lurid details of her sex-based killing spree with husband Paul Bernardo. I’m left feeling depressed and angry and, in my knee-jerk American fashion, wanna lobby for a Canadian death penalty. But considering the murders in Canada last year totaled 550 (as per the info provided on a cigarette pack, comparing smoking-related deaths to the relatively low count of suicides and unnatural deaths), I guess they’re doing something right in this country. I watch a few trailers online as a kind of mental floss, then climb back into bed around six-ish.