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.

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

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?

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.

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

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

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)

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.

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.

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.

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!

The Muppet Personality Test

Why can't I NOT be sick???

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.