(I've only watched it - no speakers here - so don't hold it against me if they cheese it up on the soundtrack.)
In other (trifling) news, a friend of mine kept sending messages to his other friend Elizabeth Doran and wondering why I didn't get them. There are so frikkin many of us, and for some reason none of us have very creative email addresses.
Case in point: I currently get group forwards from a bunch of Dorans in the midwest (no relation). Yesterday I got one which was a long nostalgiac list of things, such as: gee, dontcha miss having mimeograph machines and calling jeans "dungarees" and shopping at Sears & Roebuck? Take this quiz and find out if you're old as dirt, har har . . . Or they'll occasionally contact me to make sure I survived the tornado. I can't convince them I'm not who they think I am. Which is sad for the actual Elizabeth Doran who doesn't get why her family stopped talking to her.
However, when I learned that there is only one degree of separation between me and my friend's Liz, it caused me to ponder what would happen if we met and became friends. I don't think I'd like that much at all. I mean, look, there are plenty of Lizzes, so I've accepted having to be Liz D to more than one group of people, but if there were TWO Liz Dorans, that would be so awkward. Like when you have identical twins and in order to keep them straight people secretly refer to them as the smart one vs. the dumb one, the fun one vs. the lame one, the control freak vs. the nympho, etc. In this case, if our meeting is inevitable, I guess I just have to hope and pray that our height difference is more immediately noticeable than our age or weight difference. It would not be worth it to hang out with a person if I had to be Fat Liz.