3/28/06

Vacation...all I ever wanted.

Oh lord, I need to get away.

Not that I've been working particularly hard (have I? Maybe. In different sorts of ways.) Not that I have an excess of cash (I don't).

But I want to get on a jet plane and fly, fly away. I have Reward points, I can catch a plane the the UK and hunker down in a Priceline-bargain hotel and run the streets of London, or EasyJet about to another country, perhaps. Or I can jetblue or ATA out to any major city within 500 miles and hop a train back, with a laptop and a few pairs of clean shorts. I still, God help me, have some credit, although I'd have a severe fiscal hangover when I got back. I'd be productive, I'd be at ease. I'd live off convenience stores and a box of store brand Balance bars and all the Poland Spring half-liters I can carry.

Most importantly, I'd do my best to be out of cell phone range whenever possible.

Some times you've got to go where absolutely nobody knows your name.

3/27/06

Pontiac Moon: Seriously has anyone seen this movie?

Right now an oddly compelling Ted Danson is singing Heaven, I'm in Heaven in an amateur singing contest in a bar.

This movie has been on heavy rotation on HBO. So, I've dipped into it from time to time. And it's so freaking bizarre. Ted Danson plays a nutty-professor type, with an obsessive compulsive child and an agoraphobic wife (Mary Steenburgen, I think they met and fell in love on this film). And I believe the kid and father are taking a road trip to see the Apollo 11 launch even though the mother doesn't want the kid to ever get in a car. And look, there's Cathy Moriarty as a sultry voiced barfly!

Every time I flip on to this movie, something disconnected and strange is happening.

And Ted Danson is strangely, wonderfully attractive, with a strange stilted accent and shaggy brown hair and chiseled cheekbones and an amazing smile. I can't tell if he's a fantastic or a terrible actor. It's that kind of movie.

3/26/06

random miscellaney, or straightforward Web abuse

"You at the barricades listen to this,
Nobody's coming to help you to fight,
You're on your own, you have no friends,
Give up your guns or die!"
- Les Miserables

“Now I know the things I know, and I do the things I do; and if you do not like me so, to hell, my love, with you!”
- Dorothy Parker

“To love is to suffer. To avoid suffering, one must not love. But then, one suffers from not loving. Therefore, to love is to suffer; not to love is to suffer; to suffer is to suffer. To be happy is to love. To be happy, then, is to suffer, but suffering makes one unhappy. Therefore, to be happy, one must love or love to suffer or suffer from too much happiness.”
- Woody Allen

3/20/06

Whither John Hughes?

Do you want to be Lloyd Dobler-boombox-desperation loved? Do you want to be goofy-best-friend-Duckie Dale loved? Or the derivative female counterpart, Watts the drummer-chauffer loved? Perhaps awkward-wrong-side-of-the-tracks Blane McDonnagh love? Do you want to be John Bender insulted-with-longing loved? Or secretly-forsaking-all-others-for-my-best-friend's-girl Kevin Dolenz loved? Maybe even quietly-suffering-through-your-transgressions Wendy Beamish loved? Or flat-out-cute girl-gets-hunk-Jake Ryan loved?

Just don't you forget about me.

el sol eterno de la mente inmaculada

For my money, you cannot beat the vocal dubbing accurace of the Kate Winslet and Jim Carrey characters in "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind" on HBO-L.

Just in case you were wondering. I mean, weren't you?

Claro que si.

3/19/06

The pearl of the day.

“We are lonesome animals. We spend all our life trying to be less lonesome. One of our ancient methods is to tell a story begging the listener to say -- and to feel -- ''Yes, that's the way it is, or at least that's the way I feel it. You're not as alone as you thought.''”


- John Steinbeck

One of the most absorbing, fast, intense reads ever is Steinbeck's "Cannery Row." If you have not read it, I implore you.

The pearl of the day is my favorite hour too.

3/18/06

Tonight I walked some more.

From 107th street, past the seated comedy show barker who spieled me with "Free Comedy" before realizing that he knows me, me being charming and pushy at the same time. Past my old block, past the best falafel hut in the city, Jerusalem, most intensive veggie combo platter, yes even better than my locally beloved Damask on Avenue A, I ate most of my meals there when I lived in my rent controlled room on 104th. There was a Ben and Jerrys replacing the scary coffee shop into which I never, ever entered; the Associated, now a chain drugstore of some stripe. I recalled the Dominican families who stayed out late well into the summer, and beyond, cheerfully playing dominoes outside all the buildings on the block. Tonight was for many reasons a nostalgia walk, reliving the early 90s very very much out of context, many places were gone, many still remains, and a slightly willing victim to hear some of the tales. The great discount clothing store on 96th where I took clients to shop and shopped myself from time to time, where I ran into my model-bartender-fling from med school to their amusement, was now a Washington Mutual just like everything else. The Dive Bar still exists, the dart board and pool table and rest room in awkward juxtaposition, and I had many nonspecific smiles despite things. After 96th street I walked alone.

Blah blah blah

Scorpio (October 23-November 21)
I feel like you're still in a funk, Scorpio, even if you are shaking your head in disagreement. The truth is that you're in limbo and you'll continue to remain there if you don't face a simple fact. The truth is that you are not happy with yourself. Fine. Congratuations. Most people aren't–and those that are, probably shouldn't be. But you need to remember that your shortcomings do not define you. Somewhere along the way, you started to equate your faults with your entire existence. Um, that's just retarded. I mean, look at OJ, George W, the evil-looking Pope. If these people can walk around and live their lives, you should, too.



From girlspoke

3/16/06

We are not amused.

I just phoned my husband to ask him if I should get a boyfriend.

Can I fuck with people or what?

3/14/06

full moon

The sky is almost slate blue, not even black, streaked with clouds reflecting strangely.
imagine the most complex blue eyes into which you've ever gazed.

Tonight I walked.

I set out late tonight in search of stage time. Instead, I walked.

I walked around the West Village, the part you can get lost in. All the windy brick old streets, with the quiet pretty townhouses. I walked to the gay bar at the improbable corner of Eleventh and Fourth Streets, and it was jammed, far too jammed for a Monday, so I left. I walked and smelled the faint chocolate from the new location of Li-Lac. I walked past Bleecker, did a lap for good measure, a lap of indecision. I walked Eighth Avenue and continued on Hudson, past the little concrete park where I'd had some nice times with some nice friends. I saw a pet portrait gallery next to a baby beauty shop. Past the Sazerac House, where I'd improbably watched the World Series alone one year, remembering Randy Johnson on the Diamondbacks. Past the White Horse, nodding sagely, remembering its implications. Feeling lonely, a little, and remembering I had a notebook and a pen, with which loneliness is not possible. Sat at the bar at Cowgirl and hastily ordered catfish, writing a poem while it cooled. Talked to a friend on the phone about alcoholism while sipping a stiff Wild Turkey. No judgments, here. Drafted a script outline. Got the once-over from a hostile butch who drank half a glass of water, picked a fight with the bartender and left. Sketched out a character for a show host. Settled the tab as the eternal process of cleaning the empty bar seemed to finally wind down. Walked some more. Saw some fashionable gay boys picking on each other, loudly. Everyone seemed spirited, yet restrained, like they were scared it was spring, and only wanted to put one toe in the water of life in a new season. Places were closing, cabs were hailed, small groups laughed nervously outside the terrible dirty delis. A thin dark-haired woman sat in the window of a bar on a velvet chair. I let her read my tarot cards. She looked like Gilda Radner; she did not seem to know who Gilda Radner was. She spoke of agony and happiness and choices and positive, strong magical forces. The candles and the incense made me feel strange and good. Behind the red velvet curtain was a bar whose name I don't know; hookah smoke, or perhaps more incense, drifted past as people left. She was Egyptian but spoke with an English accent. I wrote down her name.

3/11/06

This is a real word, but sounds like it shouldn't be!

Crapulous: Sick from, or marked by, excessive drinking.

3/10/06

More Things I think I'm supposed to like but don't

1. Family Guy
2. Lost
3. Most Coen Brothers films
4. Sketch writing
5. Sweet potatoes

What I need to do, really, is write. Not scribble.

I know job searches can be boring, but...

To email yourself this job (on Hotjobs):

"Separate multiple email addresses with a coma."

Things I wished I liked more

1. The movie "Sideways"
2. Wine
3. Spa treatments
4. Pickles
5. Football (American)

3/8/06

Two quotes found on a Post-it for which I cannot find attribution.

"Approach things with open hands as opposed to closed fists."

"I want to know you...People share things...that's what intimacy is all about."

Anybody?

Analogies, lame

Sometimes it just feels like trying to make up a waterbed.

Group Dirty Mind

Doesn't seem to just exist in improv.

An entire room full of open mikers - granted, a smaller, smarter room than is necessarily the norm - managed to riff an evening's worth of jokes on porn, after the second comic (a friend and funny, funny man) came up with a story about his wife discovering his 'real stash' of dirty goods.

Fascinating. Really fascinating. By the time I got up there (two from the end, 14th in line), the host brought me up with "I KNOW she has some material about porn."

Needless to say, I did not disappoint. You want a porn rant, you got one.

But it was neat to watch. Callback after callback, story after story, riff after riff. Regardless of preparation, pre-existing ideas. Even the baffling woman who got up and said "I'm not doing porno, sorry," and basically read the news without punchlines, she spoke of some new Paris Hilton tape.

Incidentally, a full 25% of the room were lawyers by day. Hmmm.

3/7/06

Big Brother is Watching You (but I'm not watching big brother)

The DVR is a window into one's soul...the deepest darkest corners of the human psyche.

That's precisely why I don't have one.

Nobody needs to know my fondness for TV poker shows, not just that Bravo-come-lately "Celebrity Poker Showdown" but those badly-lit smoky-casino tournaments on the lesser sportschannels like ESPN2 and MSG. (See also the Strongman Competition, Futbol/Football/Soccer, and sundry other odd sports.) Nobody needs to be privy to my futile crushes on hulking, arrogant, gorgeous gay/'gay' men like Santino Rice (Project Runway), Jonathan Antin (Blow Out) and the guy from Open Bar. And I don't need some machine spontaneously taping top-anything lists on channels that used to play music videos but now play top-anything lists, retro-retrospectives, and...Real World Road Rules Retreads.

I won't even program VH1 and MTV into my remote, that's how viciously closeted I am about my guilty late night channel-surfing love for Next, RW/RR and occassionally, if I'm feverish and home, Made (Make me a Waveboarder!)and Real Life (I am a Bulimic/I am a Competitive Eater).

Forgive me, network television, for I have strayed. I can't abide "Lost," and I've never laid eyes on 24. Someday I'll watch Desperate Housewives, maybe.

And "America's Next Top Model" starts this week. My ostensibly non-tv-watching friend guiltily whispered this to me last night on the phone. Who knew he liked skinny babes? Certainly not his thirteen-inch black and white late-model Zenith.

3/2/06

Excerpts from "The Elephant Man"

MERRICK
(his voice is gaining strength)
The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not
want. He maketh me to lie down in
green pastures...
(he continues through the following
dialogue)

Treves and Carr Gomm are alone on the landing, speaking quietly.

CARR
It was a nice try, Treves, but the
man is so obviously mouthing your
words.

TREVES
Yes, I'm very sorry to have wasted
your time, sir. I just felt that
I had to do anything I could to
protect him.

CARR
I'm sorry too. He simply doesn't
belong here. He's be much happier
somewhere else, where he could be
constantly looked after. Believe
me, Frederick, it's better that it
worked out this way. Good day.

Merrick has come to the end of what Treves taught him to say.
He makes one last, desperate attempt to be heard.

Treves, disheartened, stands on the landing as Carr Gomm starts
down the stairs.

MERRICK (V.0.)
(now full voice)
Yea, though I walk through the
valley of the shadow of death, I
will fear no evil, for Thou art with
me; Thy rod and Thy staff, they
comfort me...

Treves is staring, open-mouthed, back into the room. Carr
Gomm looks up at him.

CARR
What is it, Treves?

MERRICK (V.0.)
Thou preparest a table before me
in the presence of mine enemies,
Thou anointest my head with oil...

TREVES
I didn't teach him that part!

Treves rushes back into the room, followed by Carr Gomm.

MERRICK
My cup runneth over. Surely goodness
and loving kindness shall
follow me all the days of my life,
and I shall dwell in the house of
the Lord forever.

There is a long silence as all three men stare at each other.

TREVES
How did you,know the rest? I
never taught you the rest of it.

CARR
I don't understand.

TREVES
Tell me, John, how did you know the
rest of the 23rd Psalm?

MERRICK
(hesitantly)
I... I used to read the Bible every
day. I know it very well. The
Bible, and the Book of Common
Prayer. The 23rd Psalm is very
beautiful.

............


TREVES
Why did you let me go on like
that, teaching you what you
already knew? Why didn't you tell
me you could read?

MERRICK
You did not ask me.

TREVES
I never thought to ask. How can
you ever forgive me?

MERRICK
Oh, no do not say that. You have
been so kind to me. I was afraid
to say too much. People always
want me to be quiet. You wanted
me to speak, but I was afraid.
Forgive me.

TREVES
We do have a lot to talk about, don't
we?

...............


CARR
Can you imaaine what his life has
been like?

TREVES
Yes, I think I can.

CARR
No you can't. You can't begin to
know, no one can.


From Script o Rama

Apologia

To all the boys, girls, friends, relatives, buddies, pals, and etc's I've been lax about keeping up with...along with your projects, shows, good times, events and stuff.....

I officially suck.

I hope to crawl out of this physiological and what not hole ASAP. I am sure that beating myself up about it will make it go sooo much faster.

Right?

Hugs and shit.

3/1/06

don't tell your lawyer the babysitter's dead

If nothing else, the ex will bring me bottles of Vitamin Water, saltines and seltzer when I am projectile-retching for the second day in a row, more or less. So I'm down a bottle of wine and all my leftovers and ice cream are gone, and I had to squawk at him about the floor covered with old newspapers. It's pretty nice of him, really.

I just don't understand why he thinks I'm 'cute' when I'm sick. I always thought that was weird. Who the hell is cute when they're sick? I'm green and stringy-haired and dragging ass in a sports bra and sweats. This is not cute.

Not at all.

hi--yaaah!

You Are Miss Piggy

A total princess and diva, you're totally in charge - even if people don't know it.
You want to be loved, adored, and worshiped. And you won't settle for anything less.
You're going to be a total star, and you won't let any of the "little people" get in your way.
Just remember, piggy, never eat more than you can lift!

Why can't I NOT be sick???

2/26/06

exhausted but glamorous

A fashion update:

I went with dress #1 with a smart little faux-fur shrug and black heels. Believe it or not, it was entirely flattering and appropriate. Dress #2, on the day in question (today), made me somehow look like a pregnant ballerina - no dice. Dress 3 is likely going back to Torrid. The military dress is staying firmly in the closet until, well, I decide to trot it out.

The wedding was lovely. I am exhausted. I'd show you how lovely I am but my cameraphone can't capture my face and dress in the same frame, alas. And I'd completley lost track of my digital camera (hastily left behind and uncharged at my grandmother's house, apparently).

Lovely. And chock full of comedy gold. And a chocolate fountain besides.

I've apparently stopped making sense.

2/20/06

Act 3, Chapter 22, something!

If this were the 19th century....

- I'd have consumption or some such thing, and get sent to the seashore
- I'd have faded gracefully, or be kept in a parlor somewhere, or have had poetry written about my graceful-pale-pretty-dying visage
- There'd be an opera, in which the dire cough would've started in Act 2. The aria would've started at the beginning of Act 3. Gorgeous and surprisingly powerful for someone with a death rattle in her chest.

Oh, old times, old times.

2/19/06

Bleah.

I had so many wildly interesting things to say. but I'm too gosh darn sick to organize them. I don't think I've been sicker in a long freaking time.

Let's put it this way. I can't muster up the energy to drag ass to the deli downstairs and secure junk food to supplement my Campbells soup and seltzer diet.

That's right. The siren song of "I'm sick and deserve a Devil Dog" is going, at the moment, unheeded.

I am in dire straits.

Lying around depressed is one thing. Lying around sick is infuriating and worrying.

2/17/06

Pick the dress!

Okay, campers, I'm going to a wedding next Sunday. In a castle on Long Island. What to wear, what to wear. Some of these things are going back to the store. Some to my sister in law (the previously mentioned smart brocade number, alas.) What a hassle. I've got a few old standbys in the closet, but they just don't make sense.

Let's open it up to the blogreading public (All three of you!). Open to suggestions as well.

For those unaware:

1. I am taller than these models. (Heels will also be involved; think 6')
2. I am bustier than these models. (In a serious way. Foundation garments will be involved)
3. I am not a fan of my upper arms; but, as pointed out, through accesories and distratction, according to a friend, they will likely not be noticed.

1. The Black Dress. A bit revealing, but kinda hot. (It comes with a sheer scarf thing, as stated earlier). Too much?

















2. The Brown Velvet Number. Picture this dress, in brown, with an improbable jewel somewhere near the bustline. (Some kinda wrap thing would be worn on the shoulders, again.) Too babydoll?









3. The Simple Brown Dress. Needs accessorizing. Is shorter on me than on the model. Too lame?


































Of course, I also threw this dress in the "torrid" cart - totally unnecessary, potentially interesting. Some may like it. It looks pretty fine. Definitely a bit costumey, no?

Whither Kyle Secor? I am serious.

What's right about Sleuth: "Homicide" (Andre Braugher & Kyle Secor, crisp white shirts)

What's wrong about Sleuth: "Miami VIce" (Don Johnson and Philip Michael Thomas, pink and turquoise trousers)

2/16/06

There's one that leaves you wanting more.

"Answered Prayers" by Truman Capote. Boy could that guy paint a picture.

I'd meant to include quotes, perhaps I will later. I'd also planned on researching who everyone "was," but perhaps later.

It's one of those works (like Raymond Carver stories or Albee/Tennessee Williams plays) that makes you want to drink, lots and lots.

Somewhere between escapist and pathetic, lies Capote.

2/15/06

Pharmacopeia (apologies to Edward Gorey)

A is for amphetamine, speedy and quick
B is for barbituates, slowing and sick
C is for cocaine, higher than high
D is for Demerol, slower, you sigh
E is for ecstacy, love all the people
F is for fentanyl, knocking you out
G is for gin and tonic, summertime shout
H is for heroin, riding the pony
I is for IVs, administration
J is for Jack Daniels, smooth smoky sedation
K is for ketamine, joyful and strange
L is for lithium, dampens emotional range
M is for morphia, deadens the pain
N is for nicotine, light up again
O is for orgasm, natural high
P is for Percoset, painkiller fly
Q is for Quaaludes so out of fashion
R is for Ritalin, speedy distraction
S is for sugar, the rush that you feed,
T is for Thai stick, good smoke indeed
U is for urine, teller of tales
V is for Valium, classic never fails
W is for Winston, smokes built to last
X is for Xanax, soothing and fast
Y is for yohimbe, limp dicks in the past
Z is for Zoloft, uplifting at last.

2/11/06

sometimes i enjoy being a girllllll

I just bought the most unbelievable dress.

It's black, and made out of some chiffon-y material, which is more evident towards the bottom, where the skirt is swoopy and swirly yet straight as it glides down to mid-calf. The bodice is fitted, yet hugs every curve in a flattering way. The bustline is gathered in the middle with sparkly-rhinestone trim, that highlights my cleavage in a most amazing manner. The top is held up with an array of multiple interweaving, thinnish strappy-straps that cross in the back and over my shoulders in an intensely complicated fashion. In a dressing-room feat which defies the laws of physics, the dress looked more attractive when I tried it on braless. Braless. (If you have ever seen me, you would be sucking in your breath right about now. I was inspired to do so by my girlfriend who kept poking at my ill-advised pink bra, and inspecting the dress with a skeptical eye, until I had the brainstorm to go top-commando, a feat which would have straightened Einstein's hair...."Ahhh, yes...Buy it! Buy ze dress!" My friend does not have an odd Teutonic accent, but you get the point. It was, in a word, transforming.) It is accompanied by a slip of a sheer chiffon scarf that glides over my shoulders in a sultry play-with-me way.

It cost me $22. On sale at Filene's Basement, reduced from, oh, a hundred and something dollars.

It was, my friends, the Dress that Had to be Bought.

I may sleep in it.

2/10/06

One-a-day

Every day I'm supposed to do something I really don't want to do.

Yesterday, I ate an entire salad. (Believe me, I've been existing on cereal and fruit, the all-breakfast diet, but I've also been parked on my ass more than I'd like to be.)

Today, I'd intended a gym visit. And I don't count "not blowing off a doctor's appointment." I do count clearing my messages and checking in with my temp agencies.

Tomorrow, now, that will be special.

Good times. Start small.

Tip of da day

Want to impress a European?

Do your best "Sopranos" impression. For a chick, Dr. Melfi or Adrianna. For a guy, any member of Tony's inner circle will do.

Trust me.

(I have been told this also works on Australians. Ba da bing, mate!)

2/7/06

Song du Jour. I've got work to do and I've got to get on with things.

I guess I shoulda known
By the way u parked your car sideways
That it wouldn’t last

See you’re the kinda person
That believes in makin’ out once
Love ’em and leave ’em fast

I guess I must be dumb
’cuz u had a pocket full of horses
Trojan and some of them used

But it was saturday night
I guess that makes it all right
And u say what have I got 2 lose?
And honey I say

Little red corvette
Baby you’re much 2 fast
Little red corvette
U need a love that’s gonna last

I guess I shoulda closed my eyes
When u drove me 2 the place
Where your horses run free

’cuz I felt a little ill
When I saw all the pictures
Of the jockeys that were there before me

Believe it or not
I started to worry
I wondered if I had enough class

But it was saturday night
I guess that makes it all right
And u say, baby, have u got enough gas?
Oh yeah

Little red corvette
Baby you’re much 2 fast, yes u r
Little red corvette
U need 2 find a love that’s gonna last

A body like yours
Oughta be in jail
’cuz it’s on the verge of bein’ obscene

Move over baby
Gimme the keys
I’m gonna try 2 tame your little red love machine

Little red corvette
Baby you’re much 2 fast
Little red corvette
U need 2 find a love that’s gonna last

Little red corvette
Honey u got 2 slow down (got 2 slow down)
Little red corvette
’cuz if u don’t u gonna run your
Little red corvette right in the ground

Right down 2 the ground (honey u got 2 slow down)
U, u, u got 2 slow down (little red corvette)
You’re movin’ much 2 fast (2 fast)
U need 2 find a love that’s gonna last

Girl, u got an ass like I never seen
And the ride...
I say the ride is so smooth
U must be a limousine

Baby you’re much 2 fast
Little red corvette
U need a love, u need a love that’s
That’s gonna last
(little red corvette)
U got 2 slow down (u got 2 slow down)
Little red corvette

’cuz if u don’t, ’cuz if u don’t,
U gonna run your body right into the ground (right into the ground)
Right into the ground (right into the ground)
Right into the ground (right into the ground)

Little red corvette

see also

2/6/06

Committing to your Bit....Or, what Thousands in Improv Lessons have Done for Me

I won the Rocky Horror "Virgins" Fake Orgam Contest on Saturday night in Chelsea.

Discuss.

2/3/06

Still more news

My Magic 8 Ball seems to have died. What's up with that! Some type of chemical degradation has occurred in the 8-ball solution. The fluid is bubbly and no longer sufficiently buoyant; the multi-sided fortune-telling die is no longer monostable inside the fluid and, thus, not a decisive predictor of one's future or a reliable answerer of one's life-changing questions.

I wonder if it is heat-sensitive; the 8=ball has been sitting near my TV, VCR or DVD player for the most part.

What is that stuff, anyway?

It also seems that, somehow, some evaporation has taken place, since more of the die is revealed.

I need to look into this. Seriously. Cause I don't have enough to do.

Also, a Magic 8 Ball would make a swell non-Valentine's Day gift. Just saying.

In other news,

- I can, do, and will play the flute. Perhaps you will see me play in public, soon!
- Upon mentioning this skill, even the most dignified and mature among us have to make a prurient joke about 'playing the flute.' Ha ha, indeed.
- Minute Maid Light Limeade is not only delightful, it is bilingually packaged.
- Soon I will be operating a comedy room of my own. It will have a snappy name.
- Not all stretchy black tank tops are created equal. They are all, however, sexy.
- I ordered a smart gold dress in the mail, along with two tiny pairs of sleeves to 'go with.' One is definitely faux furry. The other, supposedly, is real furry? But it is ridiculously cheap, so I shudder to think from whence it came. I refuse to believe it is actual furry, and am thus convinced it is merely plush.
- This is because in several weeks, I am attending an afternoon wedding in a castle in Long Island. Did you know there were castles in Long Island?
- I have not filled out my calendar for February yet. This is problematic for several reasons.
- Vacuuming and mopping have not occurred yet. This is also problematic.

Right now I am composing an email about my new comedy room and sipping limeade while wearing a smart black tank top.

I've got this and YOU don't, mortals.



Sweet!

Thanks lots to my good-friends-in-high-places-who-shall-remain-nameless.

Mortals can order it here.

1/31/06

Song du Jour. Desperately Seeking Seymour*

"Somewhere that's Green" - Little Shop of Horrors (original cast album)

I know Seymour's the greatest
But I'm dating a semi-sadist
So I've got a black eye
And my arm's in a cast.
Still, that Seymour's a cutie
Well, if not, he's got inner beauty
And I dream of a place
Where we could be together at last

A matchbox of our own
A fence of real chain link,
A grill out on the patio
Disposal in the sink
A washer and a dryer and an ironing machine
In a tract house that we share
Somewhere that's green.

He rakes and trims the grass
He loves to mow and weed
I cook like Betty Crocker
And I look like Donna Reed
There's plastic on the furniture
To keep it neat and clean
In the Pine-Sol scented air
Somewhere that's green

Between our frozen dinner
And our bedtime, nine-fifteen
We snuggle watchin' Lucy
On our big, enormous twelve-inch screen

I'm his December Bride
He's Father, he Knows Best
Our kids play Howdy Doody
As the sun sets in the west
A picture out of Better Homes and Gardens magazine

Far from Skid Row
I dream we'll go
somewhere that's green.

*Not really desperate at all. Just liked the turn of phrase.

Other trivia:

I signed on to accompany this musical in college on keyboards, but the band got cut at the last minute cause the singers couldn't be heard. Bah.

In the cast album, it was 'play Howdy Doody' and in the movie it was 'watch Howdy Doody.'

1/29/06

Smooth...creamy...ummm.....

Silly, but not for the faint of heart.

So, I'm at my local, slightly pricier than Duane Reade pharmacy, and I'm in need of shower gel. I spot a rather large bottle of "Skin Milk," slightly fancy, but not much pricier than that overscented cheapish "Swiss Formula" crap I get at the DR in bulk. It's clean white, has a fresh sugary-vanilla scent, and comes in an aesthetically pleasing pump bottle. Lovely. I grab it without thinking further, along with some trash bags, some random shampoo and Synthroid, and head cheerily home.

I use the stuff for a few days. It's moderately lathery, requiring a few more pumps on the old shower puff than I'd like, but not as bad as some pricey tiny bottle of English crap that is lovely and soft and rosey but basically lasts four showers and costs ten bucks. Keep in mind, I am nearly stone blind in the shower without contacts. It's not too harsh on my winter-dry-chloriney skin, and it smells pretty without being perfumey.

But, one day, after some energetic, rushed pumping, I notice the splatter on the wall. And, suspiciously, look closely, squinting, at the opaque white drizzle on my shower puff, before vigorously squeezing it into lather-oblivion. And then, horrified, I realize...

This stuff looks like ejaculate. But exactly.

I've been soaping up every day with porno-pudding. Man-juice. Splooge. If I had a Dirty Sketch to compose, I wouldn't need to mix up fancy frosting or thinnish cornstarch paste, because Here it Is. Come in a Drum.

If I were that Sort of Girl, I'd do something whacky with Skin Milk and my digital camera. But I'm a Lady.

Splooge. I shouwer with scented, foaming splooge.

And I've got at least eighteen ounces left.

1/28/06

Blog Plugs

People do this, right?

Sunday 1/29
Ampersand - 2 person improv
"early bird special" w/Marian Rosin. Appearing with "dirt dawgs" (Kevin Hines & Dave Lombard) and Warth & Todd (Dave Warth & Betsy Todd)
8 PM
Magnet Theater (29th between 7th and 8th)
$5

Tuesday 1/31
Laugh Lounge Stand Up - Hosted by Chris Griggs, Featuring Jodi Wasserman, Frank Vignola, a bunch of other funny people, and me.
151 Essex Street
830 PM
$12 + 2 drink minimum. BUT if you call/email me I will waive the cover charge! I am mad, mad with power I tell you!

1/26/06

Ever so charming!

How could I have forgotten this?

I may post this on Missed Connections:

"Monday night, in a cab on Sixth Avenue. You were puking out the window in the cab next to mine, and my cab was passing yours, but you kept catching up. You kept puking. I felt bad for you. Then, you looked up and smiled at me, sticking your tongue out in such a charming way. Look, No Puke! What a cutie! I was thinking, boy, seven o'clock is so early to be that shit-faced, but maybe it was food poisoning or something. Hope the train ride back to Jersey was swell!"

He was kinda cute. The puke clung to the cab. The driver's face, impassive.

I heart New York. I wished I'd have taken a picture for someone's New York photo blog.

1/25/06

RIP Barrymore's



This unassuming pubby-type place on 45th and 8th was where my buddy Jessica and I would go, pre or post theater, to grab a drink (or a few), or some food (or not), and see major or minor celebrities (the cast of the Producers sans headliners, Jon Lovitz and Larry Miller looking morose during their play's run). It was where I defaulted to when I had to meet a friend in the west/midtown/theater area, that wasn't wretchedly overpriced, touristy and lame.

Closing at the end of the month, its building is owned by the Shubert organization and not stating any explicit reasons why. Probably to make a boatload installing some TJ O'Pootertoots or something hideous. I don't know if the building is staying or going. I don't care. I loved the waitrons and the atmosphere; hell, I used to fucking smoke there, it's been that long.

Playwright's Tavern can suck it. I don't even know what I'm saying. I'm just bummed. Like the email I just got a few minutes ago, "noooooo!"

Fuckers.

1/24/06

Sleeping-in dreams

So I was 'working' in an ER (passing myself off as a med student), but the doctors were Anthony Edwards and George Clooney. And the outfits (I shit you not) were by Project Runway. And I'm not sure they were really working as doctors, or just 'consulting' cause they were lying on gurneys most of the time, looking superhot and dispensing sage wisdom about differential diagnosis. I think we all knew we were frauds, somehow, yet not.

Outside the hospital window there was a circus fight. Two clowns on stilts really got into it. There was collateral damage. Fortunately, the trapeze woman was actually an intern. George cuddled one of the circus clown kids and checked him for head injury, but I think he may have been retarded. I asked him lots of questions about differential diagnosis, which he answered sagely.

I crawled into bed with Anthony Edwards who mumbled that he was going to London, but wouldn't take me with him. He wanted me to help find someone to write an Agatha-Christie-type mystery novel for him - someone who knew England, mysteries, writing and medicine - but somehow I wasn't suitable. I almost told him to fuck off, but swallowed my pride and proposed slightly unsuitable candidates.

I went back to the ER, but curiously, it was a large guest house at that point. Everyone was asleep and I watched people's cell phones ring, and tried to hand them to people I kind of knew from different walks of life.

A friend left his cell phone at my house. It was a garish girly pink brick that I didn't remember but I knew was his. I called and said I had his ridiculous pink cell phone, and that I was keeping it; he had already replaced it somehow, and was cooking stirfry with his girlfriend, he had to whisper. I hung up.

I was forced to make an outfit out of orange and brown stretch fabric. I kept cutting the orange fabric into large rough squares. A couple of Project Runway like designers kept coming over and pointing at drawings of neckline ruffles, hopefully, and looking up at me.

Whiskey, 300 AM

Lying in my bed I hear the clock tick,
And think of you
Caught up in circles confusion -
Is nothing new
Flashback - warm nights -
Almost left behind
Suitcases of memories,
Time after -

Sometimes you picture me -
I'm walking too far ahead
You're calling to me, I can't hear
What you've said -
Then you say - go slow -
I fall behind -
The second hand unwinds

If you're lost you can look - and you will find me
Time after time
If you fall I will catch you - I'll be waiting
Time after time

After my picture fades and darkness has
Turned to gray
Watching through windows - you're wondering
If I'm OK
Secrets stolen from deep inside
The drum beats out of time -

If you're lost you can look - and you will find me
Time after time
If you fall I will catch you - I'll be waiting
Time after time

You said go slow -
I fall behind
The second hand unwinds -

If you're lost you can look - and you will find me
Time after time
If you fall I will catch you - I'll be waiting
Time after time
...Time after time
Time after time
Time after time
Time after time

******

You know why I keep posting song lyrics?

*******

You with the sad eyes
Don't be discouraged
Oh I realize
It's hard to take courage
In a world full of people
You can lose sight of it all
And the darkness inside you
Can make you feel so small

But I see your true colors
Shining through
I see your true colors
And that's why I love you
So don't be afraid to let them show
Your true colors
True colors are beautiful,
Like a rainbow

Show me a smile then,
Don't be unhappy, can't remember
When I last saw you laughing
If this world makes you crazy
And you've taken all you can bear
You call me up
Because you know I'll be there

And I'll see your true colors
Shining through
I see your true colors
And that's why I love you
So don't be afraid to let them show
Your true colors
True colors are beautiful,
Like a rainbow

***********

Cause I really don't want to talk about it.

***********

Swaying room as the music starts
Strangers making the most of the dark
Two by two their bodies become one

I see you through the smokey air
Can't you feel the weight of my stare
You're so close but still a world away
What I'm dying to say, is that

I'm crazy for you
Touch me once and you'll know it's true
I never wanted anyone like this
It's all brand new, you'll feel it in my kiss
I'm crazy for you, crazy for you

Trying hard to control my heart
I walk over to where you are
Eye to eye we need no words at all

Slowly now we begin to move
Every breath I'm deeper into you
Soon we to are standing still in time
If you read my mind, you'll see

I'm crazy for you
Touch me once and you'll know it's true
I never wanted anyone like this
I'ts all brand new, you'll feel it in my kiss
You'll feel it in my kiss because
I'm crazy for you
Touch me once and you'll know it's true
I never wanted anyone like this
Its all brand new, you'll feel it in my kiss
im crazy for you,
crazy for you
crazy for you
crazy for you

its all brand new, im crazy for you
and you know its true, im crazy, crazy for you
its all brand new, im crazy for you
and you know its true, yeah, Im crazy for you
Crazy for you baby

1/21/06

Haunting.

Thru And Thru - Rolling Stones

You know that we do take away
We deliver too
Open 24 hours babe
Just waiting on a call from you
Waiting on a call from you

Well I'm in the yellow pages
You just take a look
Look me up under services
You know it's just an open book
Babe it's just an open book
It's just an open book
Well baby

Any minute, any hour
I'm waiting on a call from you
And you know this heart is constant
I'm your lover, baby
Thru and thru
Lover, baby, thru and thru

I only found out yesterday
I heard it on the news
What I heard really pissed me off
Cause now I got those fucking blues
I got those awesome blues
Babe I got those nothing blues

Any minute, any hour
I'm waiting on a call from you
And you know this heart is constant
I'm your lover, baby
Thru and thru
Lover, baby, thru and thru

You know that we do take-away
That we deliver, too
We're open 24 hours, baby
We're waiting on a call from you
But any minute, baby, any hour
I'm waiting on a call from you
You know that this heart is constant
I'm your lover, baby
Thru and thru
Lover, baby, thru and thru
Lover, baby, thru and thru
Lover, baby, thru and thru

1/18/06

Digital Cable, thou hast undone me.

If you're at all low in the mind, try not watching this particular late-night maudlin-cable-trifecta:

Harold & Maude
Spanking the Monkey
What's Eating Gilbert Grape

with a side order of:

Celebrity Poker Showdown.

1/16/06

Stolen from my emails, bitch.

Fascinating, no? Yes. See how it works for you. I'm still chewing on it myself, actually.

"here's an old allegory, either Native American or Lebanese -- I've
heard it both ways -- about a frog and a scorpion. You familiar with
it? The frog is about to swim across the river and a scorpion stops
her and asks for a ride to the other bank. "No, I can't," says the
frog. "If I let you climb on my back, you'll sting me."

"That's ridiculous," says the scorpion. "If I did that, we'd both drown."

Convinced, the frog let's the scorpion climb on her back and, right
when they get to the deepest part of the river, the scorpion plunges
his stinger into the frog's neck.

"How could you do that?" cries the frog, as the poison begins to take
hold and the pair starts sinking.

The scorpion shrugs and says, "You knew I was a scorpion, bitch.""

stolen from yet another blog.

Interactive fun! Thanks, Jen!



1/14/06

For the aging seafood lover in you

I didn't feel old on my own birthday.

But my baby brother is THIRTY-FIVE (35).

ouch.

If i had a fancy scanner, I'd put in some adorable kiddy pictures of us as completely non-resembling non-combative little siblings. But now he's a working man, married man, dad of a sweet comical three-year-old. But to me, he's still that kid....insert your childhood cliches here.

THIRTY FIVE. I nearly puked up my viciously awful Red Lobster dinner. (not like that wasn't impending. I'm still digesting that meal. Oh but those 'cheese' biscuits...oily amalgams of salt, flour, vaguely greenish vegetal flecks of what I hope was parsley, some kinda cheese product, some kinda fat product, and more salt. Yum! I had about five, cause my 'stuffed flounder' was a strangely layered flatfish covering a pasty licorice-tasting pile of mock-crab-laced library paste, next to an overbuttered-and-creamed and twice-nuked baked potato. The artichoke dip was nuclear hot and laced with pink seafood surprise. So, my dinner consisted of a desultory tossed salad, no dressing, about five tentative bites of this fish surprise, a couple of my brothers' shrimp and soaking wet king crab legs, and far too many cheese biscuits. And a monstrous iced tea.)

I want a recipe for those biscuits. I think they're laced with crack. Salty, greenish crack.

1/13/06

Stay gold, Ponyboy.

Nature's first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf's a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay


- Robert Frost

...or, "The Outsiders" if you take your pop culture 80s style.

Now that's deep.

Because it's true.

Stay gold.


1/12/06

I loves me some G-Mail ads

Ads found next to a raging argument conducted via G-mail today:

"A Positive Attitude is Everything.....ThinkTQ.com"

"Daily Thoughts for Women.....www.medidationsforwomen.com"

"Get 105 Positive Thoughts.....www.sunnythoughts.com"

"Positive Thoughts?.....www.icreatereality.com"

When someone, somewhere, out there, tells you to f**k off, G-mail is there for you. Thanks, G-Mail!

"That's not a hand, that's a height"

- Penn Jillette, folding a 6-4 offsuit.

This has gotta be the most smokin' and interesting Celebrity Poker Showdown table ever.

Ever.

Jeff Gordon. Sure, NASCAR dorky on the outside, but a total devil.
Kathy Griffin. Stealth, surprisingly.
Ron Livingston. Quietly hot. Remember The Cooler?
Penn Jillette. Loudly, dorkily hot. Like I believe he's never played before.
Angie Dickinson. Classic hot and a killer player.

Man.

I want to play more poker in 2006.

1/11/06

Eternal Question #37 and commentary track.

With all the suffering in the world, and the pain in ones' soul, and the trying times of ones' loved ones....

why must one spend one's therapy time talking about boys?

Boys.

I curse you, IM! For planting the seeds via an especially delightful conversation about boys, no doubt.

Boys.

Aren't I a little old to refer to them as boys?

Well, no.

Boys. What's the matter with boys today? (In the style of Bye Bye Birdie.)

When I was about five, I developed a huge crush on Paul Lynde. Go figure. How sophisticated!

1/9/06

I'm tired.

Seriously, seriously tired. I wish I knew why.

I'm going to bed now.

Some things are just scary.

1/4/06

Billy Fucking Joel

Did you see him on Conan tonight?

Man, that guy's been through hell. Make fun of him from being from Long Island, the Christie thing, the poppy-cheesy stuff, the car-crashing nightmares. Whatever.

But he can play. He can sing. And he can write a fucking song.

It's amazing when you've followed someone from the beginning of their career to their later year, singing a song they sang so many years ago. And what the fuck does that song mean now?

His voice is deeper, more careful, more controlled, almost angrier. Controlled and deep and carrying a different sort of intensity.

He's thinner, balder, but definitely intense.

Try listening to "Everybody Loves you Now" sung from the fiftysomething perspective, rather than the twentysomething perspective, and you won't be the same for it.

This was the second song:

Slow down you crazy child
You're so ambitious for a juvenile
But then if you're so smart tell me why
Are you still so afraid?
Where's the fire, what's the hurry about?
You better cool it off before you burn it out
You got so much to do and only
So many hours in a day

But you know that when the truth is told
That you can get what you want
Or you can just get old
You're gonna kick off before you even get halfway through
When will you realize...Vienna waits for you

Slow down you're doing fine
You can't be everything you want to be
Before your time
Although it's so romantic on the borderline tonight
Too bad but it's the life you lead
You're so ahead of yourself
That you forgot what you need
Though you can see when you're wrong
You know you can't always see when you're right

You got your passion you got your pride
But don't you know that only fools are satisfied?
Dream on but don't imagine they'll all come true
When will you realize
Vienna waits for you

Slow down you crazy child
Take the phone off the hook and disappear for a while
It's alright you can afford to lose a day or two
When will you realize...
Vienna waits for you.

But you know that when the truth is told
That you can get what you want
Or you can just get old
You're gonna kick off before you even get halfway through
Why don't you realize...Vienna waits for you
When will you realize..Vienna waits for you


I don't have that many childhood heroes.

On demand, oh on demand.....

For my money, you can't find a better-written series than "Oz." Once you get past all the killin', rapin', assaultin', druggin', man-butts and such.

Seriously, amazing narratives. One tends to forget that.

FYI, Christopher Meloni appears in the latter part of Season 2, for man-butt-watchers.

1/2/06

So far...(FIRST BAD HAIKU OF 2006)

throat closed, ears burning.
Cannot swallow a darn thing.
(insert cheap joke here).

12/30/05

12/28/05

Snort.

Having someone tell you that you are incredibly hot is the best appetite suppressant of them all. Not to mention reason to keep your laundry done.

I won't get into random leg hair issues, et al. This is a family blog, after all.

12/24/05

I'm so glad we've had this time together....

Does anyone remember "The Carol Burnett Show?"

This is the sketch comedy I was raised on, with a TV in my room, no less, staying up late on Saturday nights when I was a kid.

These writers and actors were amazing. (Barry Levinson, by the way, was a writer, according to imdb. Did I mention I love imdb? carry on.)

Does anyone know who the fuck could write, act or even put up the Tim Conway Hitler puppet sketch on TV today? Actually before they put that one up on the highlights show, they mentioned that "you never knew what Tim was gonna do next." So I wonder how much of that show was improvised, in the end.

Okay, sometimes the parodies were a little cheesy, but the ones that hit - Love Story, Sunset Boulevard, Gone with the Wind - were classic.

And Harvey Korman breaking up - insanity. The Novocain sketch? Amazing.

I just imdb'd it - it was on from 1967-78. Wow. Since I was born. Tim Conway wasn't on till 1975 - damn. I do remember the show slightly before him.

Yeah, this was a highlights show, so of course it's just the good stuff, but damn...that was good stuff.

SORRY! SORRY!

It also reminded me, a bit sadly, of my fabulous childhood friend Rob, a pal and worthy teasing adversary since kindergarden through high school, who passed on (the word was) of AIDS in the late 80s. He came one year to the high school Halloween party/dance dressed as Norma Desmond. Complete with rhinestones, black dress, hat, heels, and swinging-tennisball boobs.

Fabulous. So very fabulous. (The next year he came as the Pope. I've got the photos).

MAX! MAX! Yes, Mzzz Desmond?

Hilarity. Joy. This women rocked it hard. (And was swell enough to have a gender-balanced cast. You go, Carol! Wow.)

Mad respect.

The cab scene from "Before Sunset"

script-o-rama

You told him where you are and all that?

Oui, oui, yeah.

- So, he knows where he's going?
- Yes.

Let's hope he does. Now, this is better than Metro, right?

Definitely!

I was thinking...For me it's better I don't romanticize things as much anymore. I was suffering so much all the time. I still have lots of dreams, but they're not in regard to my love life. It doesn't make me sad, it's just the way it is.

Is that why you're in a relationship with somebody who's...

never around? Yes, obviously, I can't deal with the day to day life of a relationship. Yeah, we have, you know, this exciting time together and then he leaves and I miss him, but at least I'm not dying inside. When someone is always around me, I'm like suffocating!

No, wait, you just said that you need to love and be loved...

Yeah, but when I do, it quickly makes me nauseous! It's a disaster...I mean, I'm really happy only when I'm on my own. Even being alone...it's better than... sitting next to a lover and feeling lonely. It's not so easy for me to be a romantic. You start off that way, and, after you've been screwed over a few times...You... you forget about all your delusional ideas, and you just take what comes into your life. That's not even true, I haven't been...screwed over, I've just had too many...bla relationship. They weren't mean, they cared for me, but...they were no real...connection, or excitement. At least, not from my side.

God, I'm sorry, is it...Is it really that bad?

It's not, right? You know...it's not even that, I was...I was fine. Until I read your fucking book!

It stirred shit out from you,

It reminded me how...genuinely romantic I was, how I had so much hope in things and...now it's like... I don't believe in anything that relates to love, I don't feel things for people anymore. In a way... I put all my romanticism into that one night and I was never able to feel all this again. Like...somehow this night took things away from me and...I expressed them to you and you took them with you! It made me feel cold, like if love wasn't for me!

I... I don't believe that. I don't believe that.

You know what? Reality and love are almost contradictory for me. It's funny...Every single of my ex-es...they're now married! Man go out with me, we break up, and then they get married! And later they call me to thank me for teaching them what love is, and... that I taught them to care and respect women!

I think I'm one of those guys.

You know, I want to kill them! Why didn't they ask me to marry them? I would have said "No", but at least they could have asked!!! But it's my fault, I know that it's my fault, because...I never felt it was the right man. Never! But what does it mean the right man? The love of your life? The concept is absurd, the idea that we can only be complete with another person is... EVIL! Right?

Can I talk?

You know, I guess I've been heart broken too many times. And then I recovered. So now, you know, form the starts, I make no effort. Because I know exactly what hap...

You can't do that. You can't do that, you can't live your life trying to avoid pain, at the expense of en...

Ok, you know what? Loose our words! I've gotta... I've gotta get away from you...Stop the car, I want to get out!

No, no, no, don't... don't get out...

- You know, it's being around you...
- Keep talking...

Don't touch me!

- You know, I wanna get on a cab...
- Monsieur..Monsieur, aretes vous!

12/23/05

From the "Collected First Lines v. 23"

"You do realize, darling, that holiday suicides are such a cliche," she murmured, disapprovingly, blowing a slender ring of smoke and reaching her well-manicured hand into a cut-glass bowl of mixed nuts. "Why, if you must off yourself, darling, can't you just wait until dreary old February?"

12/20/05

12/16/05

Es la ley.

I love courthouses.

So I go to the clerk's office to file papers today at 60 Centre, the one with the giant marble steps downtown. One of them, I was thinking of other things and I ambled up the steps of 40 Centre, the Federal courthouse instead. Felt like an extra on "Law and Order: Head up the Ass."

Ever been to the Clerk's Office at 60 Centre? It's a wonder of dusty poorly-lit joy. Chipped counters! Men in short-sleeved dress shirts, giving you the silently disapproving clerky eye! ("The stamp is right there, ma'am...) And, oh, the arcana - Giant dusty ledgers! An odd array of purposes (Changing your name? Filing multimillion dollar lawsuits? Come on down!) Peeling auction notices! Although the interesting thing is, some are fairly recent, and sad, but useful in a maudlin way. I wonder if I could've picked up that uptown co-op for an actual, mere, $4,725 (the foreclosure amount.) Damn! If it were only March 25, 2005.

And the Speed Pass rocks. No metal detectors, no searches. No cell phone check. Next time, I'm bringing silverware. Spoons!

12/14/05

And, oh yeah, he cooks.

Anthony Bourdain. Damn.

Tall. Wiry. Strong-featured. Smokes. Wears lots of black. Deeply sarcastic. Not without a ridiculously sensitive side. Kinda likes guns (read the book).

Just woke up weirdly on the couch to "A Cook's Tour" at the Mall of America. Goddamn hilarious watching him completely repulsed by fried batter-dipped cheesecake on a stick.

Oh, also unavailable. Not sure if that increases or decreases his considerable charms.

Sigh. My celebrity crushes are specific and weird.

12/13/05

Please, read this.

If you think you have problems it will make you shut the eff up.

This is a friend who is terribly ill. But continues to kick ass.

Deb's blog

Derivative journal quiz time-killer

Stolen from Sam, stolen from Kristina, stolen from Dunford:

1. Spell your first name backwards: ellehciM

2. Story behind your journal name: It's a variant of a phrase that my friend Janet and I developed to describe something quite different. In other words, a long complicated private joke that means nothing to you.

3. How old are you: 38

4. Where do you live: NY, NY

DESCRIBE YOUR:

5. Wallet: Black Fossil leather checkbook wallet, stuffed with business cards, receipts, courtesy cards but rarely money which usually goes in my pockets.

7. Toothbrush: Gray and black Crest bendy ergonomic one. I should get a new one

8. Jewelry worn daily: Platinum diamond engagement ring on the wrong hand.

13. Sunglasses: If I wear contacts, I wear cheap off the street plastic ones. I just busted my $5 oversized '60s ones that I loved.

14. Favorite shirt: Either my black vneck sweater or my LL bean grey and green mens flannel.

16. CD in stereo right now: Booty Olympics "Boystyle"

17. Piercings: Two in each ear.

18. What you are wearing now: Above-mentioned LL Bean grey and green mens flannel shirt. Striped high cut briefs.

19. Wishing: I could get off my ass and my projects and problems would magically disappear.

20. Wanting: Elves. Lots and lots of elves.

21. After this: getting off my ass. taking meds. maybe cereal.

22. If you could get away with it and murder anyone who would it be? Can't abide murder, unless someone hurt a friend or family member I would kill to defend them.

23. Persons you wish you could see right now: Hmm, there's a few.

25. Something you're looking forward to in the coming week: My friend Mike is coming to town.

26. The last thing you ate: Last night i had hot and sour soup.

27. Something you are moderately afraid of: Moderately? Uncertainty.

31. Do you believe in love? Yes, much to my detriment.

32. Do you believe in soul mates? Goddamn, I hate that word.

33. Do you believe in love at first sight? I'm not sure that's love, but it's something.

35. Do you believe in God? I don't know, really.

38. What is the longest you've ever watched TV? Oh, dear, mindless marathons have trapped me...

44. Who is someone that you really wish was still around? My great-aunt.

RELATIONSHIPS:

45. Who are your best friends? I have a few. Not all of them are geographically close. Some are moving farther away, and that's bumming me out.

46. How many people have you kissed? There's kissing and then there's kissing.

47. Would you be in a long distance relationship? Oy vey. Perhaps. I like space.

48. Still have feelings for anyone you've been in a past relationship with? Oh of course, who doesn't? Although at least one ex says I don't have nearly enough; he tends to hang on to nearly everyone in some form or another, I really don't.

49. Do you know what it feels like to be in love? I'm pretty sure I do, but recent life events have caused me to wonder. Shit happens. But yes, I think I do.

50. Would you sacrifice your favorite possession for your best friends? Of course.

FASHION STUFF:

51. Where is your favorite place to shop? J. Jill catalog.

52. Have any tattoos? No.

61. Do you do drugs? Rarely do I do illegal drugs.

64. What are you listening to right now? Oddly nothing, although Foreigner's "I want to know what love is" is going through my head right now.

65. Who was the last person that called you? My friend Mike about his travel plans for this week.

66. Where do you want to get married? Vegas, drunk. Ha! Of course I am still technically married right now.

68. What would you change about yourself? Be less angry at myself and more focused on positive changes in my life.

69. What are essentials in your life? Cash, family, friends, Internet, carbonated water.

CURRENT:

71. Hair: longish, curlyish, dark brown, messy

72. make-up: None. I haven't showered yet.

73. music: Maudlin shit. Just put on Steve Earle.

74. mood: tense

75. State of Being: uncertain

12/12/05

Loser of the day

I have, through various technical mishaps, electronic tomfoolery, poor judgment, conducting business with people who've never known my home phone number, long-distance intoxication, and other forms of idiocy, paid the world's largest mobile phone bill.

At least I hope so. I used a charge card that may or may not be current.

Fuuuuuuuck.

Greek of the Week!








My awesomely cool friend Chris Bonanos (old college buddy, high-powered magazine editor, outstanding pastry chef, and sweet sweet dresser, among many other things) has published a cool book about all things Greek.

Go, get your copy now. Suitable for all your Greek friends, relatives and diner owners!

Hooray!

12/11/05

Take another listen, Kermie.

There's really a touch of skepticism about this song. Skepticism and hope. But both.

The Rainbow Connection
(sing along with Kermit)

Why are there so many songs about rainbows
And what's on the other side?
Rainbows are visions, but only illusions,
And rainbows have nothing to hide.
So we've been told and some choose to believe it
I know they're wrong, wait and see.
Someday we'll find it, the rainbow connection,
The lovers, the dreamers and me.
Who said that every wish would be heard and answered
When wished on the morning star?
Somebody thought of that, and someone believed it,
And look what it's done so far.
What's so amazing that keeps us stargazing
And what do we think we might see?
Someday we'll find it, the rainbow connection,
The lovers, the dreamers, and me.
All of us under its spell,
We know that it's probably magic...
... Have you been half asleep? And have you heard voices? I've heard them calling my name.
... Is this the sweet sound that calls the young sailors?
The voice might be one and the same
I've heard it too many times to ignore it
It's something that I'm s'posed to be...
Someday we'll find it, the rainbow connection,
The lovers, the dreamers, and me.

Laa, da daa dee da daa daa,
La laa la la laa dee daa doo...

(I do not know how to upload mp3 files, anybody?)

12/10/05

People are leaving.

So I was trying to organize my photos (I'm no better with albums, believe me, and iPhoto blows. Anyone who has better software, let me know, but I guess iPhoto is it. and I'm fortunate that I duplicated efforts, cause all my iPhoto-only photos, the got eaten in the hard-drive disaster.) Anyway, I found photos of my "not-a-versary" party (which is dangerously close to my clot-a-versary, a date I still can't well acknowledge). Came across this photo, which kind of pulls together a lot of themes herein:

This is gonna be one of those ramblin' posts, can't you tell?



The blonde lady in the middle is my buddy Correne, a lawyer (Or as she says, FORMER lawyer) and super comic who's going to LA to Make It After All. She's been a good friend and wonderful partner in crime and I'm going to miss her like mad. I admire her guts and wish her the best and also deep down am feeling shit she's going. And loved singing fucking Madonna songs with her!

The lady with the long locks off to the side is my buddy Christina, or my "Scorpion super clot sister" who I also love to death. We have far too much in common, besides being hilarious (dear Lord, is she hilarious!). She's way hotter stuff than I am, and has a far better wig collection, of which I have often availed myself. And I belted out some killer ABBA with her. We do not spend enough time together, and we should.

You gotta treasure people. You do.

12/8/05

Words to live by, Or die by.

No, nothing I ever do is good enough. Not beautiful enough, it's not funny enough, it's not deep enough, it's not anything enough. Now, when I see a rose, that's perfect. I mean, that's perfect. I want to look up to God and say, "How the hell did you do that? And why the hell can't I do that?"

- "All that Jazz"

12/7/05

Want to be in this show?

Holiday Cheer! Secret Santa! Stand Up Comedy!

Be a part of the First Annual "Office Party" Stand Up Comedy Contest at the Laugh Lounge
Tuesday December 20th @ 830 PM


Far better than your day job Holiday Festivities!
This show is for all you hilarious hapless professionals who've tossed back one too many cups of sugary eggnog and photocopied one random object too many ....

You need not be an experienced comic to enter!
You need to bring along at least six friends/colleagues and have five minutes worth of material.

You will get to perform up on stage at the Lower East Side's finest comedy venue along side seasoned pros and in front of club management.

Judging based on originality, stage presence, and audience response.
Fun and awesome holiday prizes will be had. Seriously.

Let me know ASAP whether you are interested in performing - a limited number of spots are available!

Contact me thru this site or email me at doobie77jd AT yahoo DOT com.

Forget it.

I don't really miss him that much. Missing people in general is a sucky waste of time and defies some law of robotics to which I should normally be adhering.

12/6/05

Why I miss him

From: ex@xxxx.com
To: me@xxxx.com
Date: Dec 6, 2005 2:14 PM
Subject: $24 island

Found myself walking on the promenade in Bkln Heights in the snow last night.
Manhattan shared a (big) spot in the harbor with the barges and boats.



(It's just simple shit like this. I should've been on this walk.)

12/5/05

Terms of Endearment. Try turning it off.

SPOILER ALERT: This is the stupidest sappiest post ever.

80s sapfest, yes. Why do they all have that horrible piano music in the background?

But it's one of my 'sucker' movies. If it's on, I must switch to it.

Besides the overarching weepy plot (see also Beaches) and the presence of Debra Winger (see Officer and a Gentleman; shouldn't she have also had the Barbara Hershey role in Beaches? Think about it! Anyhoo...), it's got quirky old-person romance.

Shirley MacLaine just got it on with Jack Nicholson ("the astronaut." Don't you refer to people by their titles and not their names? I do.) Jeff Daniels just got caught cheating on Debra Winger.

And it's not even halfway over. Not even at the mega-sad parts.

I've gotta go.

1250 AM: It's on again.

The Astronaut is a selfish cunt. Then again, so is Aurora.

Aurora and Emma:
"I just don't want to fight anymore."
"When do we fight?"

Aurora to Flap:
"One of the nicest qualities about you is that you always recognized your own weaknesses. Don't lose that quality now when you need it the most."

Flap:
"Who am I if I'm not the man who's failing Emma?"

Flap and Emma:
"God, you're easy to please."
"I'm so glad we're talking, I just am. It just means so much to me..."

Shit.

I've gotta go.

12/4/05

Michael J. Fox

On Inside the Actors' Studio.

"Can I take 2 minutes?...I've gotta wait for a pill to kick in."

Dear lord. Dead man walking. Beautiful, funny, sweet dead man walking.

On getting sicker and how it makes him 'lucky' -

"To see what I've lost makes me look at what I've gained."

Damn.

11/30/05

Question

Is it better to look good or to feel good?

Bleah.

I like suits. I do, actually. I like the order and structure, and something about them just says 'work.'

I'm still wearing the suit from an early morning appointment. It's made me feel way guilty about not working harder, at any rate.

It's a cool suit, brown with pale green trim and a perfect length skirt. I don't even need heels to feel tall.

Suit, suit, suit. Law suit.

This time, I'm hosting!

Come be my guest at this show!

Funniest Lawyer in NY
Stand up NY
236 W 78th Street
Friday December 2 @ 7 PM
$12 + 2 Drink Minimum

Email me at doobie777jd AT yahoo DOT com for a spot on the guest list!

11/27/05

The Skin Horse is full of it, or I am.

Being Real hurts like a motherfucker.
I guess I do mind.
I guess I'm not there yet.

11/26/05

More cool stuff!

Come be my guest at this show!

Funniest Lawyer in NY
Stand up NY
236 W 78th Street
Monday November 28th @ 7 PM
2 Drink Minimum

Email me at doobie777jd AT yahoo DOT com for a spot on the guest list!

Cool stuff!

Chris Gethard - someone who I 'know well enough to say hi and stuff to' from around the UCB Theater, and who is a truly hilarious and nice human being, has published this book. It looks awesome. I'm going to buy one, you should too! Hooray!

Really.

"What is REAL?" asked the Rabbit one day, when they were lying side by side near the nursery fender, before Nana came to tidy the room. "Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?"

"Real isn't how you are made," said the Skin Horse. "It's a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but Really loves you, then you become Real."

"Does it hurt?" asked the Rabbit.

"Sometimes," said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. "When you are Real you don't mind being hurt."

"Does it happen all at once, like being wound up," he asked, "or bit by bit?"

"It doesn't happen all at once," said the Skin Horse. "You become. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get all loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand."


- Margery Williams, "The Velveteen Rabbit"

11/25/05

Caption Contest



"Well, Doctor, I'm sure we can proceed with the separation surgery, but there's an exceedingly high likelihood of brain damage....oh, you're saying there's already a high likelihood of brain damage. Carry on."

More inspiration (curious, that second one)

From Raymond Carver, the writer, rather than his characters (from thinkexist.com)

"Isak Dinesen said that she wrote a little every day, without hope and without despair. I like that."

"I never wrote so much as a line worth a nickel when I was under the influence of alcohol"

I go,

''That morning she pours Teacher's over my belly and licks it off. That afternoon she tries to jump out the window.

I go, 'Holly, this can't continue. This has got to stop.' ''

- Raymond Carver, "Gazebo"

11/19/05

Recipe for when life gets to be too much

2 eggs, scrambled in the pan with onion salt and regular salt
3 pieces bacon, cooked to death
2 slices rye toast, buttered generously
1 cup reheated coffee with honey and milk

Serve on quilted placemat.

Prepared by slightly confused, often contentious, but still able to multi-task breakfast in five minutes, eighty-eight year old grandmother who can still come through in the clutch.

11/14/05

Where am I?

Two people in the last 2 days have asked me if I've lost a bunch of weight. honestly I don't know. I don't feel particularly smaller. My doctor, in giving me his usual hairy eyeball, suggested that instead of losing "X pounds" suggested I lose "Y pounds," Y being a number a great deal smaller than X; I thought he was just feeling sorry for me. Someone actually asked me if I'd been ill.

So I walked from 23rd and 7th to 4th and A yesterday, stopping for food only when I hit my neighborhood, only having consumed a banana and some coffee. No Food till The east Side!

I'm going to swim laps today if it kills me. My thighs are starting to return, but I have not yet redeveloped a butt. But, butt, get it? And I haven't yet relocated my swim goggles. Where the fuck would I lose swim goggles?

Don't worry. I'm still a fattie. With slightly firmer thighs, I'm hoping.

Maybe cutting out the quarts of booze really helped. Hmm.

11/13/05

Physics wrought large

Did you ever notice that when approaching a project there is a finite well of energy that often gets diverted - ie, when trying to clean the house, you end up spending all the time on a single closet?

Or that when trying to engage in a creative endeavour, you can only do one 'type' (write, perform, direct) at a time?

Just something I noticed.

With apologies to Schrodinger and Planck....did you ever feel that life could be potentially wonderful and terrible at the same time, and, moreover, you weren't entirely sure of which?

**********************

It is entirely possibly that my analogies suck. Deal with it.

xxx

11/12/05

I am a shy attention-whore

Check out my interview in this fun blog!

I need to update my website with stuff I am in a little bit. (Not update it a little bit, there's stuff -a film, a sound clip - that I'm in a little bit.)

I want to be in more stuff.

Cleaning house

I have found

- borrowed software (sorry!)
- a CLE disk (hooray!)
- my UCBT t-shirt (hooray!)
- an ancient comedy notebook (damn)
- my marriage license (alas)
- two cans of Static Guard (what the fuck?)
- The Sims discs (dangerous....)
- my lost cellphone
- a lot of broken jewelry

I have not found
- true love
- sanity
- organization
- hope
- a notebook that i really need

11/7/05

Stolen from someone else's blog

Note: my blog is on hiatus until I stop being such a misanthropic creature. I will steal freely from others until then.

I stole this from another funner blog.

1. What time is it?11:44 a.m.
2. What's your full name? Michelle
3. What are you most afraid of? Suffocation and rejection
4. What is the most recent movie that you've seen in a theater? Either Star Wars Ep III or the Aristocrats
5. Place of birth? Brooklyn NY
6. Favorite new food? Age (pronouced ag-ay) tofu
7. What's your natural hair color? Brown
8 . Ever been to Alaska? No
9. Ever been toilet papering rolling? No
10. Love someone so much it made you cry? Yes
11. Been in a car accident? Yes, twice
12. Croutons or bacon bits? Depends on the salad.
13. Favorite day of the week? Saturday
14. Favorite Restaurant? Union Square Cafe
15. Favorite Flower? Lilacs
16. Favorite sport to watch? Baseball
17. Favorite Drink? Jack on the rocks
18. Favorite ice cream? Breyers vanilla
19. Disney or Warner Brothers? Warner brothers
20. Favorite fast food restaurant? Subway or Wendy's
21. What color is your bedroom carpet? Green
22. How many times you failed your driver's test? Twice
23. Before this one, from whom did you get your last E-mail? Martha
24. What do you do most often when you are bored? Channel surf, internet surf, re-read books, write
25. Bedtime? When I finally get home at night.
26. Who will respond to this e-mail the quickest? N/A
27. Who is the person you sent this to that is least likely to respond? N/A
28. Who is the person that you are most curious to see their responses? N/A
29. Favorite TV shows? The Wire, RW/RR challenges, Making the Band 3, ANTM and a few other crappy reality-tv shows (Shut up), Arrested Development, Curb your Enthusiasm, The Sopranos
31. Ford or Chevy? NYC public transportation
32. What are you listening to right now? Brian Lehrer on WNYC
33. What are your favorite colors? Red, black
34. How many tattoos do you have? Zero
35. How many pets do you have? None, I relinquished custody of my cat
36. Which came first the chicken or the egg? I hate this question, it's the wrong one
37. What would you like to accomplish before you die? Something outstandingly famously brilliant, perhaps.
38. How many people are you sending this e-mail to? Zero.
39. Time completed? 11:49 a.m.

Is anybody listening?

What I really want to do is have a shower, hop on a train with a laptop and a charge card, and just keep going.

See you later, suckers. It's my turn to reject you all.

11/6/05

With gratitude and apologies to George Carlin.

Shit piss cunt fuck cocksucker motherfucker and tits.

That's all I've got to say. It's just about all I've got right now.

Shit piss cunt fuck cocksucker motherfucker and tits.

11/1/05

That reminds me of ...(an email to a friend which should really be a journal entry)

Madonna was the phenomena when I was in high school. she used to live in my (current) neighborhood when it was gross. it was very cool to publicly hate and secretly love madonna. my best friend/ex-crush/just-come-out-to-me gay prom date used to call me "mir-donna" to get me.

But i did drunkely dance to blaring Madonna remixes at Limelight in a white shoulder-padded extremely short minidress and red spike heels (with enormous hair, yes) after said prom with said friend (white shoulder-padded suit, skinny red tie, spiked hair), chain-smoking and piss-drunk on Long Island (authentic) ice teas, May 1985.

Soooo hot. No waiting behind the velvet rope for us!

Ah, memories.

That reminds you of the time that...