Make it wo-

I had an amazing dream the other night, where Tim Gunn was standing outside a suburban home with me, in the garage (the garage door was open and we were leaning against the hood of a car, drinking a soda). He was impeccably dressed, of course. We were having a serious, thoughtful discussion about how my personal skills aligned perfectly with that of a television producer, and how he thought I would be an excellent producer. When I asked him how I would go about that (did I need to be an assistant? go to school?), he started to answer...and then I woke up.

Tim - Call me! Or, I absolutely cannot make this work!

Diesel Sweeties is the best thing ever.

Check out the site for backstory on this fabulous babe (NOT indierock pete!)

Oh, too good...too good

But where's Timmy??

Real World Awards Bash

Late night haiku

The cool air feels crisp
on my face. I would like to
smoke a cigarette.

Full moon glows brightly,
thru my window as I slice
some Brie. I like Brie.

Grape Propel is nice.
Warm or cool it matters not.
Grape Propel is nice.

Blogs are for venting(whining)? Right? Huh?

Seriously, you guys!

Yes I know there were far worse troubles in the world today, great and small. But I am having a Most Annoying Day today.

1. Woke up too late to work out.
2. Left $20 in yesterday's suit pocket.
3. Fogged out all morning before a monthly client meeting. Minor office spat woke me up.
4. Monthly client meeting [boring contentious work issues here, that I can spare you.] Browsed at tacky yet girlacious bridal gowns on the way out.
5. Purchased a disappointing big salad at Pret (really I should know better, the chicken is spongy and the greens are weedy and no amount of honey mustard dressing will cure that.) Ate the Pret popcorn for lunch.
6. I'm dehydrated.
7. Race off to an audition (aka personal appointment) that I expected to take, oh, 30 minutes on a good day. Audition snapshot without glasses causes me to look retarded/cockeyed. Enjoy banter with "Nice Female Comedy Folks #1-3" and exchange potshots with "Undefined Male Comedy Friend #1."
8. After being out of my office for 1.5 hours I have apparently advanced barely at all in line. My feet hurt in wedgie heels. I have already told UMF#1 to fuck off, because deep down in my heart I know he was acting like a dick, even if he doesn't think so, because he's a dick, see how that works? (Note that I realize that writing slightly concealed blog posts about other's immature dickery kind of makes me an immature dick as well. So?)
9. Get called in, finally, to audition. Out of the 25 or so 20-35 year old males (yes, 35, I said it), I get called inside to audition with UMF#1 (see above).
10. Fuck. Shit. Channel barely suppresed rage into okay audition reaction shots.
11. Bid a cheery goodbye to NFCF#1, ignore UMF#1, and race to the elevator before conversation occurs.
12. Wander off towards the subway while sending panicked messages to the office. Nearly get blown over by the wind. Yeah, me. That's how bad the wind was, cause I ain't skinny.
13. In foot aching despair, flag down a cab by standing in the middle of Eighth Avenue.
14. Watch the driver develop rage in the Village while the meter leaps ever upward.
15. Back at work now, where I've signed on for the long long night to avoid bossly wrath and finish reports tonight. As a result, I am missing my own weekly standup comedy show. My. own. show.
16. Seriously regret choking down half a dirty-water dog. Ignore the dubiously old Diet Snapple on desk. Drink sludgy cold coffee and dig cookie shards out of desk drawer.
17. Moan. Whimper. Feh.
18. Still dehydrated.
19. Bad hair.
20. Indigestion.

The opposite of boobies.

A neat, touching and insightful blog post by my comedy partner in crime.

Would you say that I was flat chested?

If I asked you honestly? And relatively?

I have no idea why I'm writing this. I am sniffing at a bag of chocolate chip cookies but don't feel like eating them.

Last night I almost had a 'wardrobe malfunction' because my favorite, molded-cup, formerly-pushup bra now oddly hovers over my girlish curves in the most random of manners. I had to run to the ladies' room to replace the girls back into their now-large spare rooms.

(in the interests of full disclosure, that bra is a size 44DDD.)

Sigh.

Here's a picture of a 1940s 'sweater girl' for your amusement.

Beauty Tip #377

Philosophy's "Soap and Water" perfume should really be named "Baby Wipes/Diaper Fresh."

Seriously.

(Note to people who like to sniff at me: This is not the fragrance I bought. It is the one I absentmindedly tried on while I was blocking the path of the annoying woman and her annoying dog at Sephora.)

Holy Crap, are these delicious.

I don't really feel like talking at the moment. Or working. But, damn, the world HAS TO KNOW about these snacks!

Otters!

Now back to your regularly scheduled bitching.

You know, I'm not really an inept asshole.

Seriously. I'd rant some more but there'd be no stopping me at this point.

There are about three people in the world that I do not want to tell to go fuck themselves, either directly, indirectly or rather gently. The sentiment, however, would be the same.

Here's some balloons. You know what? I fucking hate balloons. There, a concrete reason to garner disapproval. Whisper, whisper, that bitch hates pretty pretty balloons! Damn!



I really hate Florida too: (from Slashdot, which I do not hate)

"In an attempt to defy the newly approved state science standards, Florida Senator Rhonda Storms has proposed a bill that would allow teachers to contradict the teaching of evolution. Her bill states that 'Every public school teacher in the state's K-12 school system shall have the affirmative right and freedom to objectively present scientific information relevant to the full range of scientific views regarding biological and chemical evolution in connection with teaching any prescribed curriculum regarding chemical or biological origins.' The bill's main focus is on protecting teachers who want to adopt alternative teaching plans from sanction, and to allow teachers the freedom to teach whatever they wish, even if it is in opposition to current standards."

You know who else I hate? "Margaret P. Jones", the highly successful stone cold liar. If I tell colorful tales of fiction about my 'past' will I get a book deal and an interview in the Times? Fuck you.

I smellll Bacon!

I've been reading alternative food blogs lately - vegan blogs, raw blogs and the like. I find them fascinating bits of lifestyle-y navel-gazing. Have too much time on your hands? Reduce all your food to juice and then tell me how little you crap. To be fair, some have appetizing, non-tortured and tasty looking food that I would consider ingesting and enjoying. But many are just, frankly, a little nuts. Unroasted nuts, of course.

Also, vegans are cheap as hell, apparently. On most of the sites, the recipes aren't free - Real compassionate, guys! Even better, they'll chat at length about the recipes, post some shiny healthy photos, and then sweetly suggest you buy their book, over and over again. Kind of like free porn teasers. Guess all that agave nectar is 'spensive!

Here's a fabulous quote:

Cashews are stimulating, not a good choice for just before bed. I forget the precise principle involved, but I always lie awake if I eat anything with cashews too late in the day. Wish I could think of a good substitute. Mmmm... cashews.

Life's just too short, man. Eat a freaking unroasted nut.

However, I did enter a veggie "meat" stick contest! Yum-yum!

In contrast, this is what I plan on eating this weekend:



Wow! Maybe I'm Lutheran!