I have written my first interview for Out.com on my friend Kathy Griffin... you can read it here: http://66.161.86.126/detail.asp?page=1&id=8269
and after you have read it, you should head on over to her website and get her new DVD!!!
www.kathygriffin.net
Tuesday, November 30, 2004
Am I only dreaming?
The last 20 minutes of my life have me in such a tail spin that I don't know how to react... you could tell me I am in a dream right now and I would believe you... there is a high probability that I am dreaming and if I am, well then I will wake with crazy memories... but if this is in fact all real... the memories will be that much crazier and the ripple effect will be felt that much stronger... I'm not about to make much sense... perhaps on purpose to retain anonymity for some... perhaps on accident because the wine is making my head swoon and details don't seem as suddenly relevant... Suffice to say, I had a lovely dinner with my friends Shannon and Heather... post dinner, Shannon and I went to a club in Hollywood, Spider... it was nice and because of some relationships, my wine was free... on our way out, we decided to make an appearance at Justin Timberlake's new club... thinking a quick in and out would do us some good... once inside we met up with Lance and friends... on our way to Wilmer without Lindsay's table... we ran into Gabrielle Union... the most fun and beautiful person I have danced with in ages... turns out we both grew up in the bay area and haunted the same haunts... off to Wilmer's table... where he greeted me openly as if we were old friends even though we have only met twice before... Andy Dick was there... acting foolish, yet expectant... Paris Hilton said hi to us in her dark brown wig.... looking through me even though she has met me repeatedly... there were others... mostly annoying... none important to the moments that are affecting me as I grow tired... leaving the club, Shannon and I were chased by several photographers... blinding us with their flashes... were we Cameron and Justin?... will tomorrow's tabloids read: Shannon on the town with new man?... at home, two emails waited from me... why did I leave my sunglasses in my hair?... one from Charlotte from The Go-Gos... inviting me to a special event she was throwing... am I dreaming?... the other... an intimate stranger from my past... Jen Kamerman... the inspiration behind my move to LA... someone who ran away across the country from her demons... only to give birth and start anew in South Carolina... I haven't heard from her in years... why tonight?? am I dreaming? Will I awake and this whole madcap evening have only existed in my mind??? I suppose only time will tell... if these words still remind me tomorrow... then I know it is not made up... unless my entire life exists in my subconscious... but if that were the case... couldn't I dream myself rich???
Thursday, November 18, 2004
Happy Thanksgiving!
A young man named John received a parrot as a gift. The parrot had a bad attitude and an even worse vocabulary. Every word out of the bird's mouth was rude, obnoxious and laced with profanity. John tried and tried to change the bird's attitude by consistently saying only polite words, playing soft music and anything else he could think of to "clean up" the bird's vocabulary.
Finally, John was fed up and he yelled at the parrot. The parrot yelled back. John shook the parrot and the parrot got angrier and even ruder. John, in desperation, threw up his hand, grabbed the bird and put him in the freezer.
For a few minutes the parrot squawked and kicked and screamed. Then suddenly there was total quiet. Not a peep was heard for over a minute. Fearing that he'd hurt the parrot, John quickly opened the door to the freezer.
The parrot calmly stepped out onto John's outstretched arms and said, "I believe I may have offended you with my rude language and actions. I'm sincerely remorseful for my inappropriate transgressions and I fully intend to do everything I can to correct my rude and unforgivable behavior." John was stunned at the change in the bird's attitude.
As he was about to ask the parrot what had made such a dramatic change in his behavior, the bird continued, "May I ask what the turkey did?"
HAPPY THANKSGIVING!
Finally, John was fed up and he yelled at the parrot. The parrot yelled back. John shook the parrot and the parrot got angrier and even ruder. John, in desperation, threw up his hand, grabbed the bird and put him in the freezer.
For a few minutes the parrot squawked and kicked and screamed. Then suddenly there was total quiet. Not a peep was heard for over a minute. Fearing that he'd hurt the parrot, John quickly opened the door to the freezer.
The parrot calmly stepped out onto John's outstretched arms and said, "I believe I may have offended you with my rude language and actions. I'm sincerely remorseful for my inappropriate transgressions and I fully intend to do everything I can to correct my rude and unforgivable behavior." John was stunned at the change in the bird's attitude.
As he was about to ask the parrot what had made such a dramatic change in his behavior, the bird continued, "May I ask what the turkey did?"
HAPPY THANKSGIVING!
Monday, November 15, 2004
Fuck the South
I couldn't have said it better myself, from Fuckthesouth.com ...
Fuck the South. Fuck 'em. We should have let them go when they wanted to leave. But no, we had to kill half a million people so they'd stay part of our special Union. Fighting for the right to keep slaves - yeah, those are states we want to keep.
And now what do we get? We're the fucking Arrogant Northeast Liberal Elite? How about this for arrogant: the South is the Real America? The Authentic America. Really?
Cause we fucking founded this country, assholes. Those Founding Fathers you keep going on and on about? All that bullshit about what you think they meant by the Second Amendment giving you the right to keep your assault weapons in the glove compartment because you didn't bother to read the first half of the fucking sentence? Who do you think those wig-wearing lacy-shirt sporting revolutionaries were? They were fucking blue-staters, dickhead. Boston? Philadelphia? New York? Hello? Think there might be a reason all the fucking monuments are up here in our backyard?
No, No. Get the fuck out. We're not letting you visit the Liberty Bell and fucking Plymouth Rock anymore until you get over your real American selves and start respecting those other nine amendments. Who do you think those fucking stripes on the flag are for? Nine are for fucking blue states. And it would be 10 if those Vermonters had gotten their fucking Subarus together and broken off from New York a little earlier. Get it? We started this shit, so don't get all uppity about how real you are you Johnny-come-lately "Oooooh I've been a state for almost a hundred years" dickheads. Fuck off.
Arrogant? You wanna talk about us Northeasterners being fucking arrogant? What's more American than arrogance? Hmmm? Maybe horsies? I don't think so. Arrogance is the fucking cornerstone of what it means to be American. And I wouldn't be so fucking arrogant if I wasn't paying for your fucking bridges, bitch.
All those Federal taxes you love to hate? It all comes from us and goes to you, so shut up and enjoy your fucking Tennessee Valley Authority electricity and your fancy highways that we paid for. And the next time Florida gets hit by a hurricane you can come crying to us if you want to, but you're the ones who built on a fucking swamp. "Let the Spanish keep it, it’s a shithole," we said, but you had to have your fucking orange juice.
The next dickwad who says, "It’s your money, not the government's money" is gonna get their ass kicked. Nine of the ten states that get the most federal fucking dollars and pay the least... can you guess? Go on, guess. That’s right, motherfucker, they're red states. And eight of the ten states that receive the least and pay the most? It’s too easy, asshole, they’re blue states. It’s not your money, assholes, it’s fucking our money. What was that Real American Value you were spouting a minute ago? Self reliance? Try this for self reliance: buy your own fucking stop signs, assholes.
Let’s talk about those values for a fucking minute. You and your Southern values can bite my ass because the blue states got the values over you fucking Real Americans every day of the goddamn week. Which state do you think has the lowest divorce rate you marriage-hyping dickwads? Well? Can you guess? It’s fucking Massachusetts, the fucking center of the gay marriage universe. Yes, that’s right, the state you love to tie around the neck of anyone to the left of Strom Thurmond has the lowest divorce rate in the fucking nation. Think that’s just some aberration? How about this: 9 of the 10 lowest divorce rates are fucking blue states, asshole, and most are in the Northeast, where our values suck so bad. And where are the highest divorce rates? Care to fucking guess? 10 of the top 10 are fucking red-ass we're-so-fucking-moral states. And while Nevada is the worst, the Bible Belt is doing its fucking part.
But two guys making out is going to fucking ruin marriage for you? Yeah? Seems like you're ruining it pretty well on your own, you little bastards. Oh, but that's ok because you go to church, right? I mean you do, right? Cause we fucking get to hear about it every goddamn year at election time. Yes, we're fascinated by how you get up every Sunday morning and sing, and then you're fucking towers of moral superiority. Yeah, that's a workable formula. Maybe us fucking Northerners don't talk about religion as much as you because we're not so busy sinning, hmmm? Ever think of that, you self-righteous assholes? No, you're too busy erecting giant stone tablets of the Ten Commandments in buildings paid for by the fucking Northeast Liberal Elite. And who has the highest murder rates in the nation? It ain't us up here in the North, assholes.
Well this gravy train is fucking over. Take your liberal-bashing, federal-tax-leaching, confederate-flag-waving, holier-than-thou, hypocritical bullshit and shove it up your ass.
And no, you can't have your fucking convention in New York next time. Fuck off.
Fuck the South. Fuck 'em. We should have let them go when they wanted to leave. But no, we had to kill half a million people so they'd stay part of our special Union. Fighting for the right to keep slaves - yeah, those are states we want to keep.
And now what do we get? We're the fucking Arrogant Northeast Liberal Elite? How about this for arrogant: the South is the Real America? The Authentic America. Really?
Cause we fucking founded this country, assholes. Those Founding Fathers you keep going on and on about? All that bullshit about what you think they meant by the Second Amendment giving you the right to keep your assault weapons in the glove compartment because you didn't bother to read the first half of the fucking sentence? Who do you think those wig-wearing lacy-shirt sporting revolutionaries were? They were fucking blue-staters, dickhead. Boston? Philadelphia? New York? Hello? Think there might be a reason all the fucking monuments are up here in our backyard?
No, No. Get the fuck out. We're not letting you visit the Liberty Bell and fucking Plymouth Rock anymore until you get over your real American selves and start respecting those other nine amendments. Who do you think those fucking stripes on the flag are for? Nine are for fucking blue states. And it would be 10 if those Vermonters had gotten their fucking Subarus together and broken off from New York a little earlier. Get it? We started this shit, so don't get all uppity about how real you are you Johnny-come-lately "Oooooh I've been a state for almost a hundred years" dickheads. Fuck off.
Arrogant? You wanna talk about us Northeasterners being fucking arrogant? What's more American than arrogance? Hmmm? Maybe horsies? I don't think so. Arrogance is the fucking cornerstone of what it means to be American. And I wouldn't be so fucking arrogant if I wasn't paying for your fucking bridges, bitch.
All those Federal taxes you love to hate? It all comes from us and goes to you, so shut up and enjoy your fucking Tennessee Valley Authority electricity and your fancy highways that we paid for. And the next time Florida gets hit by a hurricane you can come crying to us if you want to, but you're the ones who built on a fucking swamp. "Let the Spanish keep it, it’s a shithole," we said, but you had to have your fucking orange juice.
The next dickwad who says, "It’s your money, not the government's money" is gonna get their ass kicked. Nine of the ten states that get the most federal fucking dollars and pay the least... can you guess? Go on, guess. That’s right, motherfucker, they're red states. And eight of the ten states that receive the least and pay the most? It’s too easy, asshole, they’re blue states. It’s not your money, assholes, it’s fucking our money. What was that Real American Value you were spouting a minute ago? Self reliance? Try this for self reliance: buy your own fucking stop signs, assholes.
Let’s talk about those values for a fucking minute. You and your Southern values can bite my ass because the blue states got the values over you fucking Real Americans every day of the goddamn week. Which state do you think has the lowest divorce rate you marriage-hyping dickwads? Well? Can you guess? It’s fucking Massachusetts, the fucking center of the gay marriage universe. Yes, that’s right, the state you love to tie around the neck of anyone to the left of Strom Thurmond has the lowest divorce rate in the fucking nation. Think that’s just some aberration? How about this: 9 of the 10 lowest divorce rates are fucking blue states, asshole, and most are in the Northeast, where our values suck so bad. And where are the highest divorce rates? Care to fucking guess? 10 of the top 10 are fucking red-ass we're-so-fucking-moral states. And while Nevada is the worst, the Bible Belt is doing its fucking part.
But two guys making out is going to fucking ruin marriage for you? Yeah? Seems like you're ruining it pretty well on your own, you little bastards. Oh, but that's ok because you go to church, right? I mean you do, right? Cause we fucking get to hear about it every goddamn year at election time. Yes, we're fascinated by how you get up every Sunday morning and sing, and then you're fucking towers of moral superiority. Yeah, that's a workable formula. Maybe us fucking Northerners don't talk about religion as much as you because we're not so busy sinning, hmmm? Ever think of that, you self-righteous assholes? No, you're too busy erecting giant stone tablets of the Ten Commandments in buildings paid for by the fucking Northeast Liberal Elite. And who has the highest murder rates in the nation? It ain't us up here in the North, assholes.
Well this gravy train is fucking over. Take your liberal-bashing, federal-tax-leaching, confederate-flag-waving, holier-than-thou, hypocritical bullshit and shove it up your ass.
And no, you can't have your fucking convention in New York next time. Fuck off.
Sunday, October 31, 2004
Friday, October 29, 2004
You saw her sing at my birthday party...
and if you didn't, you missed out...
but if you did, then you know you witnessed the beginnings of a truly talented star... join me on November 16th, as Katie performs an entire concert of original and covered work... she will be on tour the rest of the holiday season, so this is the last chance to see her this year...
Katie Thompson Live!
NOVEMBER 16TH, 2004
On-stage,
On-her birthday!
8:30 PM@ The Lee Strasberg Theatre Institute
7936 Santa Monica Boulevard
-one block
West of Fairfax
Doors open at 8:00
$10 admission
Birthday presents are not required....but bring pretty men.
also, please bring any and as many friends as you can... forward this to all of your lists... a packed house would be the best birthday present ever...
www.katiethompson.com
but if you did, then you know you witnessed the beginnings of a truly talented star... join me on November 16th, as Katie performs an entire concert of original and covered work... she will be on tour the rest of the holiday season, so this is the last chance to see her this year...
Katie Thompson Live!
NOVEMBER 16TH, 2004
On-stage,
On-her birthday!
8:30 PM@ The Lee Strasberg Theatre Institute
7936 Santa Monica Boulevard
-one block
West of Fairfax
Doors open at 8:00
$10 admission
Birthday presents are not required....but bring pretty men.
also, please bring any and as many friends as you can... forward this to all of your lists... a packed house would be the best birthday present ever...
www.katiethompson.com
Wednesday, October 20, 2004
The Other Side of AIDS West Coast Premiere
A good movie, good cause, good event... this is from my friend Eric... hope to see y'all there... xox Bob
Dear Friends and Colleagues,
I am pleased and excited to invite you to the West Coast premiere of my documentary The Other Side of AIDS (www.theothersideofaids.com
Directed by Robin Scovill, The Other Side of AIDS raises insightful, thought-provoking, and controversial challenges to popular ideas about HIV and AIDS. I am extremely proud of this film, humbled by the stories and motivated by the information the documentary presents. This film not only inspires healthy skepticism but also encourages much needed dialogue regarding this subject.
Tickets can be purchased by calling 1.866.AFI FEST or online at http://afi.com/onscreen/afifest/2004/tickets.aspx starting TODAY!
Please call me with any questions and please forward this email to anyone you feel might be interested in attending.
Thank you for your support!
Best regards,
Eric E. Paulson
Producer
Dear Friends and Colleagues,
I am pleased and excited to invite you to the West Coast premiere of my documentary The Other Side of AIDS (www.theothersideofaids.com
Directed by Robin Scovill, The Other Side of AIDS raises insightful, thought-provoking, and controversial challenges to popular ideas about HIV and AIDS. I am extremely proud of this film, humbled by the stories and motivated by the information the documentary presents. This film not only inspires healthy skepticism but also encourages much needed dialogue regarding this subject.
Tickets can be purchased by calling 1.866.AFI FEST or online at http://afi.com/onscreen/afifest/2004/tickets.aspx starting TODAY!
Please call me with any questions and please forward this email to anyone you feel might be interested in attending.
Thank you for your support!
Best regards,
Eric E. Paulson
Producer
Friday, October 08, 2004
Does my hair look tan?
Just sitting here eating my oatmeal this morning and thought I better throw down some words. As usual, a lot going on. As usual, nothing changes.
Tuesday night as I was going line dancing, I wasn't ready to commit to wearing my cowboy hat, so I decided my hair needed some body. So I dug out some hair spray (since my hair has gotten so long, I rarely use the stuff these days). I sprayed it, dried it. Figured it was just too long and heavy to make any difference and after a few songs on the dance floor, decided the cowboy hat was in order. Today as I was getting ready for work, I decided to give the hairspray another try. But today with a little less hurry, I noticed the bottle I had been using wasn't hairspray, but was in fact sunless tanning spray I had received in some gift bag. So, I will be working on my highlights this weekend...
Speaking of this weekend, Paddy is taking me to Santa Barbara for my birthday. Yep, still celebrating after all these months...
As some of you know, I have been really sick lately and after several (and I do mean several) medical tests and physicals and cat scans... it turns out I am going to be fine and live for awhile longer (sorry for those of you who had your eyes on my CD collection)... it turns out I just had a polyp in my right sinus... so when I contracted a virus from jet setting all over the globe, the inflamation of my sinus pressed the polyp which pressed on my brain which caused the excrutiating headaches that I was convinced were going to kill me... so today I am off for another cat scan so we can figure out just what it will take to get rid of it and soon it will all be behind me...
Will that make me a polyp survivor????
Don't forget, The Phacts of Life starts tomorrow night (see the entry below)... I will be there next week...
Is anyone else as in love with Oliver Hudson as I am???
Is anyone else watching Jack and Bobby?????
Tuesday night as I was going line dancing, I wasn't ready to commit to wearing my cowboy hat, so I decided my hair needed some body. So I dug out some hair spray (since my hair has gotten so long, I rarely use the stuff these days). I sprayed it, dried it. Figured it was just too long and heavy to make any difference and after a few songs on the dance floor, decided the cowboy hat was in order. Today as I was getting ready for work, I decided to give the hairspray another try. But today with a little less hurry, I noticed the bottle I had been using wasn't hairspray, but was in fact sunless tanning spray I had received in some gift bag. So, I will be working on my highlights this weekend...
Speaking of this weekend, Paddy is taking me to Santa Barbara for my birthday. Yep, still celebrating after all these months...
As some of you know, I have been really sick lately and after several (and I do mean several) medical tests and physicals and cat scans... it turns out I am going to be fine and live for awhile longer (sorry for those of you who had your eyes on my CD collection)... it turns out I just had a polyp in my right sinus... so when I contracted a virus from jet setting all over the globe, the inflamation of my sinus pressed the polyp which pressed on my brain which caused the excrutiating headaches that I was convinced were going to kill me... so today I am off for another cat scan so we can figure out just what it will take to get rid of it and soon it will all be behind me...
Will that make me a polyp survivor????
Don't forget, The Phacts of Life starts tomorrow night (see the entry below)... I will be there next week...
Is anyone else as in love with Oliver Hudson as I am???
Is anyone else watching Jack and Bobby?????
Thursday, September 30, 2004
The Phacts are back!!!
Hi friends---
PHACTS OF LIFE is back! By popular demand and the kind insistence of James Grace at Hollywood's snazzy Improv Olympic West, 6366 Hollywood Blvd., just east of Cahuenga, we will be performing two episodes per night EVERY Saturday from October 9 to November 27. The tickets are only 10 bucks, there's a full bar and valet parking, not to mention the dream cast of a lifetime: The incomparable Sam Pancake as spoiled-rotten debutante Miss Piggy, er, Blair; swarthy, sexy Steve Sobel as violence-prone diesel-dagger Jo; ever-wacky audience fave Madeline Long as Edna Garrett; Mad-TV star Daniele Gaither in a hilariously frightening simulation of chatty, bratty Tootie; pop culture tart Julie Brown (the white, talented one!) as chunky Jewess Natalie; and The Nellie Olesons' cuddly sicko Terrence Michael as handi-capable Cousin Geri!
The guest stars include A Dirty Shame's Mink Stole; Lampshade chanteuse Kate Flannery, My Big Fat Obnoxious Fiance's James Grace, and the very funny Jason Ginsburg, Angela Otey, Kevin Walsh, and Dudley Beene.
Every two weeks brings a fresh pair of episodes including a brand-new Cousin Geri! Here's the current schedule:
October 9 & 16-- Tootie and the teen prostitution ring**** All-new "Cousin Geri"
October 23 & 30-- Natalie takes a college course and turns into a bigger, fatter bitch****Cousin Geri returns and dates Eastland's tres hunky French teacher.
November 6 & 13-- In Part One of a very special two-parter, Blair's stepsister shocks the gang when she announces she's becoming a nun... and so does Jo!****Cousin Geri.
November 20 & 27-- The Nun, Part 2**** Cousin Geri Returns.
Please come to the show as many times as you can! Call 323.962.7560 for tickets.
THANKS!
PHACTS OF LIFE is back! By popular demand and the kind insistence of James Grace at Hollywood's snazzy Improv Olympic West, 6366 Hollywood Blvd., just east of Cahuenga, we will be performing two episodes per night EVERY Saturday from October 9 to November 27. The tickets are only 10 bucks, there's a full bar and valet parking, not to mention the dream cast of a lifetime: The incomparable Sam Pancake as spoiled-rotten debutante Miss Piggy, er, Blair; swarthy, sexy Steve Sobel as violence-prone diesel-dagger Jo; ever-wacky audience fave Madeline Long as Edna Garrett; Mad-TV star Daniele Gaither in a hilariously frightening simulation of chatty, bratty Tootie; pop culture tart Julie Brown (the white, talented one!) as chunky Jewess Natalie; and The Nellie Olesons' cuddly sicko Terrence Michael as handi-capable Cousin Geri!
The guest stars include A Dirty Shame's Mink Stole; Lampshade chanteuse Kate Flannery, My Big Fat Obnoxious Fiance's James Grace, and the very funny Jason Ginsburg, Angela Otey, Kevin Walsh, and Dudley Beene.
Every two weeks brings a fresh pair of episodes including a brand-new Cousin Geri! Here's the current schedule:
October 9 & 16-- Tootie and the teen prostitution ring**** All-new "Cousin Geri"
October 23 & 30-- Natalie takes a college course and turns into a bigger, fatter bitch****Cousin Geri returns and dates Eastland's tres hunky French teacher.
November 6 & 13-- In Part One of a very special two-parter, Blair's stepsister shocks the gang when she announces she's becoming a nun... and so does Jo!****Cousin Geri.
November 20 & 27-- The Nun, Part 2**** Cousin Geri Returns.
Please come to the show as many times as you can! Call 323.962.7560 for tickets.
THANKS!
Tuesday, September 28, 2004
Have you missed me?
So much for keeping everyone up to date!
I have actually spent the last week and a half incredibly sick with some migraine inducing virus, but it looks as though as I am going to survive. I can't tell you how many nights I cried myself to sleep singing Gloria and thinking of Laura Branigan as the pain in my head throbbed unbearably.
The high point of so much time on the couch... I am SOOOOOO caught up on my TV shows. I would be lost without the WB. My absolute favorite new show is Jack and Bobby. My friend Barbie is working on it and I tuned in as a gesture, but now I am completely obsessed. Next up, my eyes are still red from tonight's episode of One Tree Hill. I am so upset we didn't get to hear what Dan said to Lucas at the end, but I think that Huey Lewis and Bess Armstrong as Hayley's parents is complete genius casting! Wednesday I have Smallville and that new show the Mountain (I just think that Oliver Hudson is so cute), Friday I have Reba (still one of the funniest shows on TV). Seriously, what would I do this season without the WB????
What are you watching this season???
And although it wasn't Charla and Mirna, I was so happy to see Chip and Kim beat Scott and Laci, I mean Colin and Christie on last weeks nail biting Amazing Race. And did anyone else watch them on the Early Show the next day when Colin proposed to Christie? Maybe it's me, but I am guessing that the Jesus models are no longer a couple... Their love was not in God's light that morning!
Two major milestone birthday's today... Clara and Hannah are both turning a major clock and I wish them both a moment of reflection and a year full of laughter and happiness!!!!
I have to go watch more TV... Shannen Doherty is popping up on North Shore :-)
I have actually spent the last week and a half incredibly sick with some migraine inducing virus, but it looks as though as I am going to survive. I can't tell you how many nights I cried myself to sleep singing Gloria and thinking of Laura Branigan as the pain in my head throbbed unbearably.
The high point of so much time on the couch... I am SOOOOOO caught up on my TV shows. I would be lost without the WB. My absolute favorite new show is Jack and Bobby. My friend Barbie is working on it and I tuned in as a gesture, but now I am completely obsessed. Next up, my eyes are still red from tonight's episode of One Tree Hill. I am so upset we didn't get to hear what Dan said to Lucas at the end, but I think that Huey Lewis and Bess Armstrong as Hayley's parents is complete genius casting! Wednesday I have Smallville and that new show the Mountain (I just think that Oliver Hudson is so cute), Friday I have Reba (still one of the funniest shows on TV). Seriously, what would I do this season without the WB????
What are you watching this season???
And although it wasn't Charla and Mirna, I was so happy to see Chip and Kim beat Scott and Laci, I mean Colin and Christie on last weeks nail biting Amazing Race. And did anyone else watch them on the Early Show the next day when Colin proposed to Christie? Maybe it's me, but I am guessing that the Jesus models are no longer a couple... Their love was not in God's light that morning!
Two major milestone birthday's today... Clara and Hannah are both turning a major clock and I wish them both a moment of reflection and a year full of laughter and happiness!!!!
I have to go watch more TV... Shannen Doherty is popping up on North Shore :-)
Monday, August 30, 2004
Rennovate My Family
This is from my friend Val...
Hey--
For those interested, the reality show I've been working on, "Renovate My Family", debuts this Wednesday, September 1st on Fox (8/7central).
I hope you'll all watch, so that the two weeks I spent on a construction site in the Dallas humidity will not have been in vain. (I tried really hard to stay off camera, but I'm not sure if I did.)
http://www.fox.com/renovatemyfamily/
--Val
Hey--
For those interested, the reality show I've been working on, "Renovate My Family", debuts this Wednesday, September 1st on Fox (8/7central).
I hope you'll all watch, so that the two weeks I spent on a construction site in the Dallas humidity will not have been in vain. (I tried really hard to stay off camera, but I'm not sure if I did.)
http://www.fox.com/renovatemyfamily/
--Val
Friday, August 27, 2004
Go see my friend's show!
This is from my friend Erin (my very first friend I ever made in Hollywood)... I saw her last show, "It's a Stevie Wonderful Life" and it was hysterical, so you can expect me in the front row at "A Comedy of Aerosmith"...
"Hey, y'all. Just letting you know that this is my final weekend doing the Root Beer Bandits, the rootin'est tootin'est kids musical of all time! Falcon Theater, 4252 Riverside Dr, Burbank. 818-955-8101. Saturday the 28th at 1:00 and 3:00, Sunday the 29th at 1:00. Oh, and tickets are only 10 bucks for kids and 12 for you grown up types. Then I ride off into the sunset...Actually, then I do ride off...to sunset...boulevard. We're doing A Comedy of Aerosmith at the Roxy again Wednesday, September 8. Call ticketmaster or the Roxy box office for tickets. Do it. Do it now, because I won't take any excuses when we sell out and you "forgot" to get tickets. Go to troubie.com for details. OK, two VERY different shows, I do hope you can make it to one of them! -Erin"
"Hey, y'all. Just letting you know that this is my final weekend doing the Root Beer Bandits, the rootin'est tootin'est kids musical of all time! Falcon Theater, 4252 Riverside Dr, Burbank. 818-955-8101. Saturday the 28th at 1:00 and 3:00, Sunday the 29th at 1:00. Oh, and tickets are only 10 bucks for kids and 12 for you grown up types. Then I ride off into the sunset...Actually, then I do ride off...to sunset...boulevard. We're doing A Comedy of Aerosmith at the Roxy again Wednesday, September 8. Call ticketmaster or the Roxy box office for tickets. Do it. Do it now, because I won't take any excuses when we sell out and you "forgot" to get tickets. Go to troubie.com for details. OK, two VERY different shows, I do hope you can make it to one of them! -Erin"
Thursday, August 26, 2004
Fantastic! Just fantastic!
I need to attend this within my lifetime...
http://story.news.yahoo.com/news?tmpl=story&u=/afp/afplifestyle_spain
http://story.news.yahoo.com/news?tmpl=story&u=/afp/afplifestyle_spain
Wednesday, August 25, 2004
A contemplative and joyous journey in New York - Part One
So many tales to tell... so many personalities who's permission is required to share said tales!
My trip this last weekend to New York may very well be my absolute favorite experience there, and that is really saying something. I love New York. I love it for so many reasons. The food, the people, the energy. I love that I have so many friends there, each with deep and rich memories of prior adventures. I decided to tell, as best I could (and without the additional sordid details) what it is like when I embrace New York and New York embraces me back...
All times are approximate as sobriety is a constant issue.
Saturday:
6:00am- Arrived from LA on the red eye so early that even the sun was still sleeping. See a T-shirt in a window that reads, "I'm a Drunk not an Alcoholic. Alcoholics go to meetings". I silently wish the store open.
6:15am - Meet Ben in baggage claim (he flew in on a different airline). He begins to talk about his flight, I sing an Alanis Morissette song in my mind so I don't hear what he is complaining about. It's an uneventful train ride beyond my boredom which had me going through my toiletries bag and applying the several flavors of lip balm I was carrying and a silver hoop earring that I wore the duration of the trip. I haven't worn an earring in years!
8:00am- Get to Christa's apartment. She did not like being woken up, nor did she like the suggestion that we go and get Starbucks and begin our day. She and Ben went to sleep while I watched TV. Somewhere between the fabulous life of Britney Spears and a repeat of That 70's Show, I must have passed out as well until Erica called my cell around 11.
11:30am- Erica and Eric have arrived at Christa's apartment where we have been slowly getting ready. Christa gets a bottle of champagne and we begin our day properly. I of course forget that I had spent all day Friday with one of my top ten worst hangovers.
12:00pm- Too many mimosas later, we stumble around the corner to a great little diner on 15th and 8th. Delicious breakfast, lots of over the top sexual conversations and dozens of cute boys passing by. Heaven.
1:20pm- We all part ways. Eric has to go meet someone (I don't care who, still upset that anyone could be more important than me), Christa is off to run some errands at the BBB (Bed, Bath and Beyond), while Ben, Erica and I head off to Soho for a spot of shopping. As we are walking off our champagne, I am being reminded that I was in fact hungover on Friday and am wondering if we would be seeing that delicious BLT again that I had at the cafe. All is well when we get to the Pop Shop and I get my ritual one item from there (a new Keith Haring umbrella that was on clearance). It is pouring down rain outside and the heat is sweltering. My hair fought becoming an afro and barely won. Erica found the bag she wanted from a street vendor the day before and after nearly slipping to death twice in the rain because of his flip flops, Ben purchased a new pair, this time with traction. We were all content with our purchases, but in dire need of cocktail stimulation.
4:00pm- Subway back up to Chelsea to visit my friend at the Chelsea Grill. He isn't working, but we stay for some awful food and a cocktail. We are all so tired and useless that we don't speak. Instead I look out into the rainy streets and wonder why I came to New York at all.
5:30pm- We get back to Christa's where she shows her BBB purchases and we all quickly snuggle beneath her new linens and comforters. We watch more TV and doze in and out of consciousness. I have traveled 2,882.6 miles to spend a rainy, tired day indoors. My brain wonders if my cat is okay and considers cutting off my hair before I officially fall asleep.
8:00pm- We are lying around watching TV still. Old School is on. No one seems to be racing to the shower or to pour a cocktail. I want to panic, but I have decided that I just don't care. We can stay in and watch TV and I will remain content just so long as I choose to forget that I have flown so far to get here. Eric is supposed to be over at 9 so we can get a drink. I think Erica is in the shower.
9:10pm- Christa announces that Eric is coming over around 9:45 and immediately pours me a drink before I explode with boredom (often confused with anger from my volatile reactions).
10:00pm- Christa is finally getting ready and I am on my third Vodka and Cranberry. Have stopped caring that Eric hasn't arrived yet. Everyone assures me that no one goes out before 11. I contemplate the balls (some pun intended) it took for Will Farrell to film a nude streaker scene in front of all of those extras.
10:30pm- Eric arrives and Ben has put on Bon Jovi's greatest hits (I am certain in an attempt to keep me sedated). I'm still drinking. I don't care if we ever leave the building.
11:00pm- We finally commit to leaving the house and meeting Christa and Eric's friends. Our party inside is so much fun, I no longer feel like going outside. Erica convinces me or Eric smiles, not sure, but somehow, I follow the group.
11:30pm- We walk over to HELL, a favorite bar of mine in the meat packing district. Somehow I buy a round of drinks on my non-existent budget. Not happy about this and the look on my face shows it. Trying to rally and enjoy myself, but inside, wishing we were back at the apartment listening to Bon Jovi. I put in $2 in the juke box hoping to hear some Deee-Lite. They can always make me smile. Instead it plays some Mariah Carey song and I am reminded I am in Hell.
11:50pm- The group consensus is that Hell is living up to its title and we are going dancing. As we leave, I hear the jukebox chirping out Groove Is In The Heart. Figures. Right outside the club, a drunk Ben enthusiastically accosts a guy quietly sitting on the rail because he loves the green of his jacket. The guy looks at Ben with fear in his eyes, wouldn't you?
11:56pm- We make a decide on which club we are going. Erica and I exchange glances, we are willing to rally as a group, but the energy of the evening is not inspiring us to dance. We divide into separate cabs as the theme from Sex and the City jingles out of my cell phone. It is Erik Garbus calling from Suede where Joey and a few other friends are. I tell him we are on our way without even conferring with the group. We call the other cab and no one complains. Internally I breathe relief, because I know all is about to get better.
12:10am- We arrive at Suede where there is a long line to get in and the bouncer tells someone there is a $20 cover charge. My insecurity kicks in. Maybe we should have gone to the other club. I tell the bouncer who I am. He raises the velvet rope and lets me in with all of my friends in tow, no cover charge and back to the VIP section. It's good to be me. We turn the corner and several voices scream over the loud hip hop "Holy Hell! Big Gay Bob is here!". I was home. Alfonso, Joey, Erik, Dre, Dave, it was so great. They welcomed us in and Joey asked me what I wanted. I barely blinked and I had a vodka cranberry in my hand. Within seconds I was dancing on a table and Erica was dancing on the bench. This was how I remembered New York to be. Eric finally arrived with the other cab of people. We danced. We drank. Ben was on a table when the guys from Boys to Men showed up. I watched a security guard reach for Ben when Joey told him he was with us. Ben never even knew it happened, he just got to keep dancing. At this point there were bottles of Vodka and mixers on the tables. Not a great idea when you have already been drinking all day. At least a bartender can water them down and make you think that you are still getting drunk. Everytime I would pour a new drink, Eric would remove it from my hand, take a large gulp, pass it to Erica, she would take a large gulp and hand it back to me. Fearing there would be none left, I would take a large gulp, only to find the glass empty. So I would fill it up again and the cycle continued until I could no longer get on the table. At one point Erica fell off the table bringing Eric and I down on top of her. She is still questioning the bruises on her body. In an attempt to grab Eric's ass, I reached too far and grabbed this black guy's dick. Thank you lord for not letting him kill me, because I really believe in my soul, he wanted to.
2:00am- Christa leaves. She is too drunk and has had enough.
3:45am- We decide we are done with Suede. We say our goodbyes. Joey invites us to the closing performances of Little Shop of Horrors the next morning. Erica joins some guys out front doing gymnastics on the scaffolding. They can't seem to stay on the bar, so Erica declares them as wimps and begins climbing the scaffolding herself. She shows them... I don't think anything, but it made for some great photo ops!
4:00am- Ben, Erica, Eric and I eat pizza around the corner from Christa's. We laugh and we eat. This is the New York I love.
4:30am- Christa has somehow managed to get us each into our proper sleeping locations (or at least close enough as I am sleeping on the small space of floor next to my mattress). Erica and I finally stop giggling and pass out.
Sunday confronts us in just a few hours...
to be continued...
My trip this last weekend to New York may very well be my absolute favorite experience there, and that is really saying something. I love New York. I love it for so many reasons. The food, the people, the energy. I love that I have so many friends there, each with deep and rich memories of prior adventures. I decided to tell, as best I could (and without the additional sordid details) what it is like when I embrace New York and New York embraces me back...
All times are approximate as sobriety is a constant issue.
Saturday:
6:00am- Arrived from LA on the red eye so early that even the sun was still sleeping. See a T-shirt in a window that reads, "I'm a Drunk not an Alcoholic. Alcoholics go to meetings". I silently wish the store open.
6:15am - Meet Ben in baggage claim (he flew in on a different airline). He begins to talk about his flight, I sing an Alanis Morissette song in my mind so I don't hear what he is complaining about. It's an uneventful train ride beyond my boredom which had me going through my toiletries bag and applying the several flavors of lip balm I was carrying and a silver hoop earring that I wore the duration of the trip. I haven't worn an earring in years!
8:00am- Get to Christa's apartment. She did not like being woken up, nor did she like the suggestion that we go and get Starbucks and begin our day. She and Ben went to sleep while I watched TV. Somewhere between the fabulous life of Britney Spears and a repeat of That 70's Show, I must have passed out as well until Erica called my cell around 11.
11:30am- Erica and Eric have arrived at Christa's apartment where we have been slowly getting ready. Christa gets a bottle of champagne and we begin our day properly. I of course forget that I had spent all day Friday with one of my top ten worst hangovers.
12:00pm- Too many mimosas later, we stumble around the corner to a great little diner on 15th and 8th. Delicious breakfast, lots of over the top sexual conversations and dozens of cute boys passing by. Heaven.
1:20pm- We all part ways. Eric has to go meet someone (I don't care who, still upset that anyone could be more important than me), Christa is off to run some errands at the BBB (Bed, Bath and Beyond), while Ben, Erica and I head off to Soho for a spot of shopping. As we are walking off our champagne, I am being reminded that I was in fact hungover on Friday and am wondering if we would be seeing that delicious BLT again that I had at the cafe. All is well when we get to the Pop Shop and I get my ritual one item from there (a new Keith Haring umbrella that was on clearance). It is pouring down rain outside and the heat is sweltering. My hair fought becoming an afro and barely won. Erica found the bag she wanted from a street vendor the day before and after nearly slipping to death twice in the rain because of his flip flops, Ben purchased a new pair, this time with traction. We were all content with our purchases, but in dire need of cocktail stimulation.
4:00pm- Subway back up to Chelsea to visit my friend at the Chelsea Grill. He isn't working, but we stay for some awful food and a cocktail. We are all so tired and useless that we don't speak. Instead I look out into the rainy streets and wonder why I came to New York at all.
5:30pm- We get back to Christa's where she shows her BBB purchases and we all quickly snuggle beneath her new linens and comforters. We watch more TV and doze in and out of consciousness. I have traveled 2,882.6 miles to spend a rainy, tired day indoors. My brain wonders if my cat is okay and considers cutting off my hair before I officially fall asleep.
8:00pm- We are lying around watching TV still. Old School is on. No one seems to be racing to the shower or to pour a cocktail. I want to panic, but I have decided that I just don't care. We can stay in and watch TV and I will remain content just so long as I choose to forget that I have flown so far to get here. Eric is supposed to be over at 9 so we can get a drink. I think Erica is in the shower.
9:10pm- Christa announces that Eric is coming over around 9:45 and immediately pours me a drink before I explode with boredom (often confused with anger from my volatile reactions).
10:00pm- Christa is finally getting ready and I am on my third Vodka and Cranberry. Have stopped caring that Eric hasn't arrived yet. Everyone assures me that no one goes out before 11. I contemplate the balls (some pun intended) it took for Will Farrell to film a nude streaker scene in front of all of those extras.
10:30pm- Eric arrives and Ben has put on Bon Jovi's greatest hits (I am certain in an attempt to keep me sedated). I'm still drinking. I don't care if we ever leave the building.
11:00pm- We finally commit to leaving the house and meeting Christa and Eric's friends. Our party inside is so much fun, I no longer feel like going outside. Erica convinces me or Eric smiles, not sure, but somehow, I follow the group.
11:30pm- We walk over to HELL, a favorite bar of mine in the meat packing district. Somehow I buy a round of drinks on my non-existent budget. Not happy about this and the look on my face shows it. Trying to rally and enjoy myself, but inside, wishing we were back at the apartment listening to Bon Jovi. I put in $2 in the juke box hoping to hear some Deee-Lite. They can always make me smile. Instead it plays some Mariah Carey song and I am reminded I am in Hell.
11:50pm- The group consensus is that Hell is living up to its title and we are going dancing. As we leave, I hear the jukebox chirping out Groove Is In The Heart. Figures. Right outside the club, a drunk Ben enthusiastically accosts a guy quietly sitting on the rail because he loves the green of his jacket. The guy looks at Ben with fear in his eyes, wouldn't you?
11:56pm- We make a decide on which club we are going. Erica and I exchange glances, we are willing to rally as a group, but the energy of the evening is not inspiring us to dance. We divide into separate cabs as the theme from Sex and the City jingles out of my cell phone. It is Erik Garbus calling from Suede where Joey and a few other friends are. I tell him we are on our way without even conferring with the group. We call the other cab and no one complains. Internally I breathe relief, because I know all is about to get better.
12:10am- We arrive at Suede where there is a long line to get in and the bouncer tells someone there is a $20 cover charge. My insecurity kicks in. Maybe we should have gone to the other club. I tell the bouncer who I am. He raises the velvet rope and lets me in with all of my friends in tow, no cover charge and back to the VIP section. It's good to be me. We turn the corner and several voices scream over the loud hip hop "Holy Hell! Big Gay Bob is here!". I was home. Alfonso, Joey, Erik, Dre, Dave, it was so great. They welcomed us in and Joey asked me what I wanted. I barely blinked and I had a vodka cranberry in my hand. Within seconds I was dancing on a table and Erica was dancing on the bench. This was how I remembered New York to be. Eric finally arrived with the other cab of people. We danced. We drank. Ben was on a table when the guys from Boys to Men showed up. I watched a security guard reach for Ben when Joey told him he was with us. Ben never even knew it happened, he just got to keep dancing. At this point there were bottles of Vodka and mixers on the tables. Not a great idea when you have already been drinking all day. At least a bartender can water them down and make you think that you are still getting drunk. Everytime I would pour a new drink, Eric would remove it from my hand, take a large gulp, pass it to Erica, she would take a large gulp and hand it back to me. Fearing there would be none left, I would take a large gulp, only to find the glass empty. So I would fill it up again and the cycle continued until I could no longer get on the table. At one point Erica fell off the table bringing Eric and I down on top of her. She is still questioning the bruises on her body. In an attempt to grab Eric's ass, I reached too far and grabbed this black guy's dick. Thank you lord for not letting him kill me, because I really believe in my soul, he wanted to.
2:00am- Christa leaves. She is too drunk and has had enough.
3:45am- We decide we are done with Suede. We say our goodbyes. Joey invites us to the closing performances of Little Shop of Horrors the next morning. Erica joins some guys out front doing gymnastics on the scaffolding. They can't seem to stay on the bar, so Erica declares them as wimps and begins climbing the scaffolding herself. She shows them... I don't think anything, but it made for some great photo ops!
4:00am- Ben, Erica, Eric and I eat pizza around the corner from Christa's. We laugh and we eat. This is the New York I love.
4:30am- Christa has somehow managed to get us each into our proper sleeping locations (or at least close enough as I am sleeping on the small space of floor next to my mattress). Erica and I finally stop giggling and pass out.
Sunday confronts us in just a few hours...
to be continued...
A contemplative and joyous journey to New York - Part Two
Sunday
9:30am- Mouth is dry. Try to get water out of refrigerator, but my bed is in the kitchen and I can't open the door. Drink two glasses out of the tap. Return to slumber.
10:58am- Wake up to contemplate the day. We are supposed to be at a pool party in Brooklyn at 11 with my friend Amy. Little Shop starts at 2. I know we are in trouble when it looks like lounging by a pool proves to be too much activity.
11:05am- I whisper, "hey guys". Ben is the first to stir and Christa lets out a groggy moan. Erica's head is cocooned in fabric and I am not entirely sure she is under the covers. Before I can get the word party out of my mouth, I am greeted with no's when I say the word pool. Something about it being too early. Erica finally stirs and we are able to reach an agreement that the three of us (sans Christa) would go see Little Shop.
11:20am- In recapping the night, Ben complains about how rude the guy was outside the club in the green jacket. I make him aware of his aggressive nature and that in his drunkness, he mistook fear for rudeness. We rehash the evening prior as we try to piece together the events that lead to Erica's many bruises.
12:15pm- Thinking we are ahead of schedule, the three of us walk two blocks to Cafeteria on 7th and and 18th to meet Eric for breakfast. Only in New York can noon still be an acceptable time to call it breakfast. The wait for a table is 15-30 minutes. It will be tight, but we will make it work.
12:45pm- Ben begins to worry out loud that we won't have enough time to eat and get to the show by 2. I tell him (yell kindly) we will be fine and not to fill the air with bad energy and now feel an internal pressure to make sure we eat at Cafeteria and still make it to the show on time.
12:50pm- Jerry O'Connell and Rebecca Romijn Used-to-be-Stamos walk by.
12:55pm- We finally have a seat. With some generous smiling and sweetness, we explain to our waiter that we need to be out the door by 1:30pm. He doesn't fill us with confidence as he says it may not be possible, but I have to keep my cool so that Ben doesn't see me react.
1:15pm- The waiter comes through, I pretend like I knew it all along and we all begin to come to life as the food finally hits our stomachs.
1:50pm- The cab drops us out front of the theater. Dre is by the backstage door and tells us to come back and say, "hi" after the show.
4:00pm- Joey is on stage dressed as a giant plant, a baby Audrey 2. It is one of best moments ever! The show is great and I feel a sense of pride seeing Joey star in a broadway show. I haven't listened to, or seen this show since 1991 when I was in it in High School. The entire performance I was flooded with memories. Gabi singing as one of the street girls. Bryce Judd drowning everyone as he sang. Denny as the dentist who behind the scenes was developing a crush on Audrey who would someday become his real life wife, Andrea Taboada. Their plant did things that ours didn't. During the curtain call he says my name and waves to me and I clap louder. It's good to be me.
4:15pm- We walk around to the backstage door where throngs of girls wait to get an autograph from their Superman-loving-'Nsync-er. Dre sees us and tells us to walk through the crowd. It's good to be me.
4:16pm- Joey greets us at the door. Big hugs. Big smiles. So great to see him and catch up. Invites us to the Cast Wrap Party later that night. He tells us about the new billboard in Times Square for Little Shop. It is the chance to see Joey's nose as big as the Empire State Building.
4:30pm- We walk to Times Square to snap pictures of the biggest billboad I have ever seen of Joey's face. You know you have made it when you're face is as big as a building in Times Square.
5:30pm- Back at Christa's we are all running late for out picnic in Central Park, so we quickly get ready.
6:00pm- Reyna, LoriJean and Stephanie join us in Central Park for a picnic before Gavin Degraw's concert. We all laugh and catch up and eat. Knowing that I am the glue that is putting this wonderful group of people together makes me feel warm inside on this beautiful New York day. It's good to be me.
7:15pm- We take our seats to see a new singer, Michael Tolcher, singing away. More impressive than his nice voice and guitar playing abilities: he is tall and GORGEOUS. Note to self, must visit his website and determine if he is worthy of my love.
8:00pm- There is a girl singing. I think I am too busy fighting with Eric to notice.
8:05pm- That girl is still singing, but have made up with Eric and am now busy trying to keep his hands off me.
8:10pm- Give up the fight and make out with Eric on the spot, not worrying what the sold out crowd thinks. The setting is too gorgeous to not enjoy a good snogging. It is the outdoor amphitheatre where they perform Shakespeare in the Park. The backdrop from our vantage point is a giant castle. God has blessed us with a perfectly temperate evening, not a cloud in the sky and a crescent moon dangling sleepily in the sky.
8:11pm- Awake from day dream to realize that the girl is still singing, the surroundings look the same, but Eric and I were never making out. In fact, he was in the bathroom. I go back to gazing at the moon waiting for Gavin to come on.
9:00pm- Gavin takes the stage. As usual, I am overwhelmed by the whole experience. Sure I love his voice and music and all of that, but there is more to it that gets me. It is the reality of sitting there in a crowd, a sold out crowd, in Central Park, under a beautiful sky, with some of my most treasured friends. Reinspired by Gavin's journey from the Mint in Hollywood where I had to beg people to come and see him play, lucky if 15 would show up, to a sold out Central Park show. Life is a world of endless possibilities if you are willing to grab hold and make your mark.
11:00pm- The show is over and we are all walking through the park. I am the first to spot it and my laughter almost doesn't allow me to share it. There in front of me is the gated entrance to an enclosed area in Central Park known as "Diana Ross Playground". I envision rides such as drunk bumper cars, an airplane ride where you smoke a joint and get stoned before you can ride and carnival games such as "see who can slap the cop the hardest". As we pose for the picture at the front of the gate, Ben dunks his head in the trash can as if he is throwing up. Wouldn't that be just how you would end a day at Diana Ross Playground??
11:30pm- It is a school night for most, so I part ways with everyone but Lorijean, Stephanie and Ben. We walk up to Suede to join the cast wrap party for Little Shop of Horrors. As we walk in, Joey sees me and grabs me by the hand, yanking me to the back corner of the dance floor. Large commotion and pandemonium ensue as Richie and I embrace, ecstatic to see each other. In the midst, I also see Kelly, Erik, Mikey, Alfonso and others while Richie snaps his digital camera. Unbeknownst to me, when a club member asks Richie who I am, he tells him, "he is a big time producer from Los Angeles. Big time!" I don't find this out until the following day, but it suddenly makes sense why people all evening insist on introducing themselves and giving me their business cards in non-sexual ways. Found myself making many promises that "what happens at Suede, stays at Suede". Again we dance and carry on until 3:00am.
3:15am- Another stop at the pizza parlour, no visits to South Beach anytime soon. Like an episode of Sex and the City, the four of us, well really just me and Lorijean, share some of our best sex stories. We learn that Lorijean is one lucky bitch and I am very committed.
3:45am- My head hits the pillow, but my brain is too blissful to sleep, so I read an article about Margaret Cho on her way to terrorize the Republican National Convention. More bliss ensues and I finally fall asleep.
6:00am- Erica kisses me on the cheek as her car picks her up for her return to Los Angeles. The day just won't be the same...
to be concluded...
9:30am- Mouth is dry. Try to get water out of refrigerator, but my bed is in the kitchen and I can't open the door. Drink two glasses out of the tap. Return to slumber.
10:58am- Wake up to contemplate the day. We are supposed to be at a pool party in Brooklyn at 11 with my friend Amy. Little Shop starts at 2. I know we are in trouble when it looks like lounging by a pool proves to be too much activity.
11:05am- I whisper, "hey guys". Ben is the first to stir and Christa lets out a groggy moan. Erica's head is cocooned in fabric and I am not entirely sure she is under the covers. Before I can get the word party out of my mouth, I am greeted with no's when I say the word pool. Something about it being too early. Erica finally stirs and we are able to reach an agreement that the three of us (sans Christa) would go see Little Shop.
11:20am- In recapping the night, Ben complains about how rude the guy was outside the club in the green jacket. I make him aware of his aggressive nature and that in his drunkness, he mistook fear for rudeness. We rehash the evening prior as we try to piece together the events that lead to Erica's many bruises.
12:15pm- Thinking we are ahead of schedule, the three of us walk two blocks to Cafeteria on 7th and and 18th to meet Eric for breakfast. Only in New York can noon still be an acceptable time to call it breakfast. The wait for a table is 15-30 minutes. It will be tight, but we will make it work.
12:45pm- Ben begins to worry out loud that we won't have enough time to eat and get to the show by 2. I tell him (yell kindly) we will be fine and not to fill the air with bad energy and now feel an internal pressure to make sure we eat at Cafeteria and still make it to the show on time.
12:50pm- Jerry O'Connell and Rebecca Romijn Used-to-be-Stamos walk by.
12:55pm- We finally have a seat. With some generous smiling and sweetness, we explain to our waiter that we need to be out the door by 1:30pm. He doesn't fill us with confidence as he says it may not be possible, but I have to keep my cool so that Ben doesn't see me react.
1:15pm- The waiter comes through, I pretend like I knew it all along and we all begin to come to life as the food finally hits our stomachs.
1:50pm- The cab drops us out front of the theater. Dre is by the backstage door and tells us to come back and say, "hi" after the show.
4:00pm- Joey is on stage dressed as a giant plant, a baby Audrey 2. It is one of best moments ever! The show is great and I feel a sense of pride seeing Joey star in a broadway show. I haven't listened to, or seen this show since 1991 when I was in it in High School. The entire performance I was flooded with memories. Gabi singing as one of the street girls. Bryce Judd drowning everyone as he sang. Denny as the dentist who behind the scenes was developing a crush on Audrey who would someday become his real life wife, Andrea Taboada. Their plant did things that ours didn't. During the curtain call he says my name and waves to me and I clap louder. It's good to be me.
4:15pm- We walk around to the backstage door where throngs of girls wait to get an autograph from their Superman-loving-'Nsync-er. Dre sees us and tells us to walk through the crowd. It's good to be me.
4:16pm- Joey greets us at the door. Big hugs. Big smiles. So great to see him and catch up. Invites us to the Cast Wrap Party later that night. He tells us about the new billboard in Times Square for Little Shop. It is the chance to see Joey's nose as big as the Empire State Building.
4:30pm- We walk to Times Square to snap pictures of the biggest billboad I have ever seen of Joey's face. You know you have made it when you're face is as big as a building in Times Square.
5:30pm- Back at Christa's we are all running late for out picnic in Central Park, so we quickly get ready.
6:00pm- Reyna, LoriJean and Stephanie join us in Central Park for a picnic before Gavin Degraw's concert. We all laugh and catch up and eat. Knowing that I am the glue that is putting this wonderful group of people together makes me feel warm inside on this beautiful New York day. It's good to be me.
7:15pm- We take our seats to see a new singer, Michael Tolcher, singing away. More impressive than his nice voice and guitar playing abilities: he is tall and GORGEOUS. Note to self, must visit his website and determine if he is worthy of my love.
8:00pm- There is a girl singing. I think I am too busy fighting with Eric to notice.
8:05pm- That girl is still singing, but have made up with Eric and am now busy trying to keep his hands off me.
8:10pm- Give up the fight and make out with Eric on the spot, not worrying what the sold out crowd thinks. The setting is too gorgeous to not enjoy a good snogging. It is the outdoor amphitheatre where they perform Shakespeare in the Park. The backdrop from our vantage point is a giant castle. God has blessed us with a perfectly temperate evening, not a cloud in the sky and a crescent moon dangling sleepily in the sky.
8:11pm- Awake from day dream to realize that the girl is still singing, the surroundings look the same, but Eric and I were never making out. In fact, he was in the bathroom. I go back to gazing at the moon waiting for Gavin to come on.
9:00pm- Gavin takes the stage. As usual, I am overwhelmed by the whole experience. Sure I love his voice and music and all of that, but there is more to it that gets me. It is the reality of sitting there in a crowd, a sold out crowd, in Central Park, under a beautiful sky, with some of my most treasured friends. Reinspired by Gavin's journey from the Mint in Hollywood where I had to beg people to come and see him play, lucky if 15 would show up, to a sold out Central Park show. Life is a world of endless possibilities if you are willing to grab hold and make your mark.
11:00pm- The show is over and we are all walking through the park. I am the first to spot it and my laughter almost doesn't allow me to share it. There in front of me is the gated entrance to an enclosed area in Central Park known as "Diana Ross Playground". I envision rides such as drunk bumper cars, an airplane ride where you smoke a joint and get stoned before you can ride and carnival games such as "see who can slap the cop the hardest". As we pose for the picture at the front of the gate, Ben dunks his head in the trash can as if he is throwing up. Wouldn't that be just how you would end a day at Diana Ross Playground??
11:30pm- It is a school night for most, so I part ways with everyone but Lorijean, Stephanie and Ben. We walk up to Suede to join the cast wrap party for Little Shop of Horrors. As we walk in, Joey sees me and grabs me by the hand, yanking me to the back corner of the dance floor. Large commotion and pandemonium ensue as Richie and I embrace, ecstatic to see each other. In the midst, I also see Kelly, Erik, Mikey, Alfonso and others while Richie snaps his digital camera. Unbeknownst to me, when a club member asks Richie who I am, he tells him, "he is a big time producer from Los Angeles. Big time!" I don't find this out until the following day, but it suddenly makes sense why people all evening insist on introducing themselves and giving me their business cards in non-sexual ways. Found myself making many promises that "what happens at Suede, stays at Suede". Again we dance and carry on until 3:00am.
3:15am- Another stop at the pizza parlour, no visits to South Beach anytime soon. Like an episode of Sex and the City, the four of us, well really just me and Lorijean, share some of our best sex stories. We learn that Lorijean is one lucky bitch and I am very committed.
3:45am- My head hits the pillow, but my brain is too blissful to sleep, so I read an article about Margaret Cho on her way to terrorize the Republican National Convention. More bliss ensues and I finally fall asleep.
6:00am- Erica kisses me on the cheek as her car picks her up for her return to Los Angeles. The day just won't be the same...
to be concluded...
A contemplative and joyous journey in New York- Part Three
Monday
11:30am (maybe even noon)- Someone stirs and my body decides maybe it is time to do the same. I hear Christa from the other room asking if I want to watch George Michael's Behind the Music. I mumble and grab my covers off the kitchen floor and move to the couch. Sure enough, we start watching BTM.
11:45am- Christa asks Ben and I if we want the best breakfast sandwiches ever. Of course I do, but getting up sounds like a chore. No worries, they get delivered.
2:00pm- Have finished watching BTM, Bands Reunited with Berlin and George Michael on Oprah. Still wrapped in my blankets on the couch. Ben has finally had enough and is in the shower. Me, I am wondering if I can have another breakfast sandwich. I decide to blog for a minute.
4:00pm- Finally make it out of the house to visit the Magnolia Bakery where Christa and I indulge in the most delicious cupcakes. I am off to Christian's house for a visit, so I get two for he and Nikki and then two for Lorijean and Gabe before the concert.
5:15pm- Finally arrive at Christian's on the lower East Side. Was supposed to be there at 4. Fortunately, I have cupcakes to make up for my tardiness and plan to make the most of my one hour (must meet Lorijean and Gabe at the China Club at 6:30). It will be a rushed visit, but it is good to at least have some quality alone time.
5:16pm- The buzzer rings and I think it is Ben. So Christian just let's him in. I begin to set my bags down and take off my sunglasses.
5:17pm- In walks Phil and his five friends from Toronto, each carrying different forms of alcohol and each still drunk from the bender the night before. So much for quality alone time. We all head to the roof and begin grilling burgers. Finally, something besides pizza and cupcakes.
6:10pm- Nikki gets home, already not in the greatest mood after a rehearsal and it is about to get worse when she gets up on the roof. So we spend our 10 minutes of bonding in the kitchen before I head out the door. Suddenly wishing I had the ability to be in two places at once. Alas, meeting Lorijean uptown wins out.
6:40pm- Lorijean and Gabe are at a bar near the China Club (J.R.'s) getting some food, so I accidentally have a couple of vodka tonics. As we go to leave, my foot gets wedged into the brass foot rail. Literally. Embarrassed, I am envisioning that the fire department will have to come and dismantle the bar. Fortunately, Gabe is able to help me out of it.
7:20pm- We go into the China Club where a local radio station is hosting a private concert for Josh Kelly and Gavin Degraw. I am in heaven. I had no idea Josh was playing and I love him. To celebrate, I have 2 vodka martinis.
7:45pm- I meet Gavin's parents. So sweet. So proud.
8:15pm- Gavin puts on another kick ass concert. The energy is so much better than the night before because it is a small club and the volume is full tilt. Makes a big difference when he rocks out to Chemical Party and I Don't Want to Be.
8:45pm- Debbie walks by and I throw my arms around her with a big thank you for the passes. Once again, THANK YOU DEBBIE!!!!
10:00pm- The show is over and Gavin is signing shirts at the booth. Lorijean and I stare in disbelief as his turn as a rock star is in full bloom with girls clamouring to get close to him. But with all of their effort, nothing feels better than when he spots us and flashes us that high watt grin and thanks us for coming. "Be Good Bob". It makes me realize he doesn't know me very well, or maybe he is just commanding me because he knows me too well. Either way, Lorijean and I leave again in a state of bliss. Aknowledging how special our friendship is and how great life is, and how even though we don't get to see each other often, we always make it memorable. To commemorate the moment, we cross the street to get another slice of pizza.
10:15pm- Phil calls from Christian's. They are still there, aren't slurring too badly and wants us to come back. So LJ and I hop in a cab and head back to the lower East Side.
The events that happened from that point on are less significant in what actually happened and incredibly significant in what went through my mind. Everyone was drunk except Lorijean, Nikki and me. They have a great rooftop deck that sits on top of the New York skyline. If you stared into the sky long enough, stars began to appear. The 5 guys from Toronto peppered the evening with the kind of comedy only a Canadian can. I was excited to have someone to talk endlessly about the Barenaked Ladies with. When everyone was downstairs making more drinks, Lorijean and I had the roof to ourselves. As I searched for the stars, I couldn't stop thinking about how lucky and fortunate I am. How great my friends are. How extremely gifted I am in my adventures to experience people sharing themselves and their lives so wholy with me.
I thank you, my friends from New York, especially Christa for opening your home and making it feel so cozy and welcoming, for allowing me and my friends to come to your city and make us feel at home. Believe it or not, there are so many detailed experiences in my heart that happened this trip that I haven't even shared. But I know that those of you who were there, know those moments and will remember them in your heart with me.
Thank you for one of my best trips to New York ever, and I look forward, as always, to my next big adventure in the big apple...
11:30am (maybe even noon)- Someone stirs and my body decides maybe it is time to do the same. I hear Christa from the other room asking if I want to watch George Michael's Behind the Music. I mumble and grab my covers off the kitchen floor and move to the couch. Sure enough, we start watching BTM.
11:45am- Christa asks Ben and I if we want the best breakfast sandwiches ever. Of course I do, but getting up sounds like a chore. No worries, they get delivered.
2:00pm- Have finished watching BTM, Bands Reunited with Berlin and George Michael on Oprah. Still wrapped in my blankets on the couch. Ben has finally had enough and is in the shower. Me, I am wondering if I can have another breakfast sandwich. I decide to blog for a minute.
4:00pm- Finally make it out of the house to visit the Magnolia Bakery where Christa and I indulge in the most delicious cupcakes. I am off to Christian's house for a visit, so I get two for he and Nikki and then two for Lorijean and Gabe before the concert.
5:15pm- Finally arrive at Christian's on the lower East Side. Was supposed to be there at 4. Fortunately, I have cupcakes to make up for my tardiness and plan to make the most of my one hour (must meet Lorijean and Gabe at the China Club at 6:30). It will be a rushed visit, but it is good to at least have some quality alone time.
5:16pm- The buzzer rings and I think it is Ben. So Christian just let's him in. I begin to set my bags down and take off my sunglasses.
5:17pm- In walks Phil and his five friends from Toronto, each carrying different forms of alcohol and each still drunk from the bender the night before. So much for quality alone time. We all head to the roof and begin grilling burgers. Finally, something besides pizza and cupcakes.
6:10pm- Nikki gets home, already not in the greatest mood after a rehearsal and it is about to get worse when she gets up on the roof. So we spend our 10 minutes of bonding in the kitchen before I head out the door. Suddenly wishing I had the ability to be in two places at once. Alas, meeting Lorijean uptown wins out.
6:40pm- Lorijean and Gabe are at a bar near the China Club (J.R.'s) getting some food, so I accidentally have a couple of vodka tonics. As we go to leave, my foot gets wedged into the brass foot rail. Literally. Embarrassed, I am envisioning that the fire department will have to come and dismantle the bar. Fortunately, Gabe is able to help me out of it.
7:20pm- We go into the China Club where a local radio station is hosting a private concert for Josh Kelly and Gavin Degraw. I am in heaven. I had no idea Josh was playing and I love him. To celebrate, I have 2 vodka martinis.
7:45pm- I meet Gavin's parents. So sweet. So proud.
8:15pm- Gavin puts on another kick ass concert. The energy is so much better than the night before because it is a small club and the volume is full tilt. Makes a big difference when he rocks out to Chemical Party and I Don't Want to Be.
8:45pm- Debbie walks by and I throw my arms around her with a big thank you for the passes. Once again, THANK YOU DEBBIE!!!!
10:00pm- The show is over and Gavin is signing shirts at the booth. Lorijean and I stare in disbelief as his turn as a rock star is in full bloom with girls clamouring to get close to him. But with all of their effort, nothing feels better than when he spots us and flashes us that high watt grin and thanks us for coming. "Be Good Bob". It makes me realize he doesn't know me very well, or maybe he is just commanding me because he knows me too well. Either way, Lorijean and I leave again in a state of bliss. Aknowledging how special our friendship is and how great life is, and how even though we don't get to see each other often, we always make it memorable. To commemorate the moment, we cross the street to get another slice of pizza.
10:15pm- Phil calls from Christian's. They are still there, aren't slurring too badly and wants us to come back. So LJ and I hop in a cab and head back to the lower East Side.
The events that happened from that point on are less significant in what actually happened and incredibly significant in what went through my mind. Everyone was drunk except Lorijean, Nikki and me. They have a great rooftop deck that sits on top of the New York skyline. If you stared into the sky long enough, stars began to appear. The 5 guys from Toronto peppered the evening with the kind of comedy only a Canadian can. I was excited to have someone to talk endlessly about the Barenaked Ladies with. When everyone was downstairs making more drinks, Lorijean and I had the roof to ourselves. As I searched for the stars, I couldn't stop thinking about how lucky and fortunate I am. How great my friends are. How extremely gifted I am in my adventures to experience people sharing themselves and their lives so wholy with me.
I thank you, my friends from New York, especially Christa for opening your home and making it feel so cozy and welcoming, for allowing me and my friends to come to your city and make us feel at home. Believe it or not, there are so many detailed experiences in my heart that happened this trip that I haven't even shared. But I know that those of you who were there, know those moments and will remember them in your heart with me.
Thank you for one of my best trips to New York ever, and I look forward, as always, to my next big adventure in the big apple...
The Proof is in the Pudding
a 30 second video worth viewing...
click here to view a video that speaks a thousand words
sov·er·eign ( P ) Pronunciation Key (svr-n, svrn)
n.
1. One that exercises supreme, permanent authority, especially in a nation or other governmental unit, as:
a. A king, queen, or other noble person who serves as chief of state; a ruler or monarch.
b. A national governing council or committee.
2. A nation that governs territory outside its borders.
3. A gold coin formerly used in Great Britain.
adj.
1. Self-governing; independent: a sovereign state.
2. Having supreme rank or power: a sovereign prince.
3. Paramount; supreme: Her sovereign virtue is compassion.
: a person or political entity (as a nation or state) possessing or held to possess sovereignty (a controversy between two sovereigns…the United States on the one hand and the State of California on the other —U.S. Code) —see also sovereign immunity at IMMUNITY
Source: Merriam-Webster Dictionary of Law, © 1996 Merriam-Webster, Inc.
click here to view a video that speaks a thousand words
sov·er·eign ( P ) Pronunciation Key (svr-n, svrn)
n.
1. One that exercises supreme, permanent authority, especially in a nation or other governmental unit, as:
a. A king, queen, or other noble person who serves as chief of state; a ruler or monarch.
b. A national governing council or committee.
2. A nation that governs territory outside its borders.
3. A gold coin formerly used in Great Britain.
adj.
1. Self-governing; independent: a sovereign state.
2. Having supreme rank or power: a sovereign prince.
3. Paramount; supreme: Her sovereign virtue is compassion.
: a person or political entity (as a nation or state) possessing or held to possess sovereignty (a controversy between two sovereigns…the United States on the one hand and the State of California on the other —U.S. Code) —see also sovereign immunity at IMMUNITY
Source: Merriam-Webster Dictionary of Law, © 1996 Merriam-Webster, Inc.
The Largest Pink Ribbon
3M Corporation is building the World's Largest Pink Ribbon; in Times Square for breast cancer awareness month in October. For every person who clicks on this link and signs up, Post-It will donate $1 to breast cancer research and place a Post-It in their name on the billboard. Please sign up and pass along! go to:
www.3m.com
www.3m.com
Monday, August 23, 2004
stealing a new york minute...
Still in New York (I know, it was a busy week last week and you barely heard from me... it had to do with too much gin, Gidleigh and Todi)... and now here I am writing from my final day in New York, just bursting with stories to tell, many of which I am not allowed to tell (what happens in the Pugh, stays in the Pugh).
I will report loads and loads when I get back to LA, but am happy to say I have had too much fun! So good seeing friends and playing wildly. I love that the city never sleeps... but I must confess, I need to...
Tonight it is off to the China Club for a private concert with that Gavin character I am always talking about. Dreading the early morning departure tomorrow only to arrive glassy-eyed into work and summon the strength to be fabulous for Neal's gallery opening. YIKES!
Off to some bakery right now for the world's best non-South Beach cupcake...
oxoxo
I will report loads and loads when I get back to LA, but am happy to say I have had too much fun! So good seeing friends and playing wildly. I love that the city never sleeps... but I must confess, I need to...
Tonight it is off to the China Club for a private concert with that Gavin character I am always talking about. Dreading the early morning departure tomorrow only to arrive glassy-eyed into work and summon the strength to be fabulous for Neal's gallery opening. YIKES!
Off to some bakery right now for the world's best non-South Beach cupcake...
oxoxo
Wednesday, August 18, 2004
a moment of silence...
I am so sad. So so so sad. Phil was crying. Mirna was crying. I was blubbering like a baby. I think even my cat was crying.
I think Charla should have her own show... and it should be a non stop eating contest... I could watch her stuff her face all day... I have no idea why...
THERAPY!!!
Monday, August 16, 2004
Who Am I To Be Blue?
I was having coffee tonight with my new friend after work. He moved here about a year ago from Ohio. Somehow we got onto the topic of life and our journeys. More specifically, how we spend so much time comparing ours to everyone else's. As I drove away, my brain began racing with the questions that constantly plague me. I am 30, what are other 30 year olds doing? I began comparing the material things. What kind of cars are other people my age driving? There are other people my age buying houses, why am I still renting? Other people are using their college degrees towards successful and financially rewarding careers. Why didn't I go to college? Why am I still searching for a career? I began comparing my emotional needs. There are other people my age not only married, but expecting their first, sometimes second child. Why am I not even dating? I believe in God, but I don't congregate in church every week. Will I still be let into heaven like my friends who participate every Sunday?
Oh yeah, the thoughts were heavy this evening.
Coincidentally, after I got home, another friend, completely out of nowhere, called to ask me what would really excite me. What event or thing would really stimulate and excite me. He wanted to be a part of the first great moment of my 30's. Most importantly, he wanted me to be happy. His dinner companion arrived and we hung up. I didn't get to tell him what would excite me. An hour later, I still don't know the answer.
Living in Los Angeles, is different than any other city in the world. No one is from here. There is no pride in community because there is no community. Everyone has moved here for a reason, for their own purpose. With that said, everyone here has an agenda. Maybe to write a screenplay, maybe to be famous, maybe to be rich, maybe to be able to say that they eat at the same restaurant as Robert DeNiro. It is never because they love the sun, the hikes in the Hollywood Hills, or the pool of reliable friends from which they can swim. Those are all things overlooked.
Imagine trying to date in this environment. Imagine trying to not only survive, but thrive in this environment while still trying to own your soul and stay authentic to who you are. Most people aren't that strong and get swept up in the greed, swallowed by the loneliness and spit out soul less and hollow. I don't want to be one of these people.
I don't want to feel like a failure because other people my age own a house and I rent. I don't want to feel like a failure because my friends are married and I am not dating. I don't want to feel like a failure because my friends make millions of dollars a year and I scrape by on what is now considered poor middle class.
I want to learn to embrace my journey as my own. To not compare mine to others. Instead to compare to where I am from, where I have been, where I am, who I am, who I am continuously becoming. To instead tap into my soul and know who I am and envision who I want to be and living my life for me. Owning my mistakes and flaws along the way. I want to know what excites and stimulates me when my friends ask.
I want to remember how excited I used to be watching a Bette Midler concert in my living room. The adrenaline that coursed through my body when Madonna would release a new album. The alive feeling I felt when I would run around the Hollywood Reservoir with the Hollywood sign watching over me, welcoming me to it's gates. The overwhelming disbelief the first time I set foot on a movie set with Morgan Freeman delivering a White House Press Conference as the president of the United States, as I stood silently, convinced I had walked into someone else's shoes. The breathlessness I felt when Erin brought Joe into this world and the love I not only felt, but knew when I was invited to witness. The pride I felt the day I graduated High School. Accomplishment filled with wide-eyed possibility of the world ahead of me. I walked across the field that day, not worried about who was beating me on my journey or who who was winning. At that point, I never considered life as a race. I walked across that field that day knowing I was going to leave my mark and I couldn't wait to get started. When did my mind switch gears and decide that life wasn't to be lived and savored, but to be sped through with fear of being the last man standing.
A favorite quote of mine from Lily Tomlin is, "the trouble with winning the rat race is that even if you win, you are still a rat". I need to stop racing and fearing that I am going to be last to cross the finish line. Life isn't a race, it is a constant circle. An endless journey. I need to go back to that focus of who I am and how I want to be remembered. I want to be in control of how I am remembered as people cross my footprints on their journey. Not to compare themselves, but to find inspiration to keep living. To want to leave their own mark.
It is time to go back to living my life for me, not worrying about how I measure up to everyone else.
It is amazing what meeting someone new can do for your memory. Self-reflection can be a healthy study in oneself to discover who you are and what you want to be.
Much heavier than I anticipated. Hoping it doesn't haunt me down the road that I am sharing it in my blog instead of my private diary...
Oh yeah, the thoughts were heavy this evening.
Coincidentally, after I got home, another friend, completely out of nowhere, called to ask me what would really excite me. What event or thing would really stimulate and excite me. He wanted to be a part of the first great moment of my 30's. Most importantly, he wanted me to be happy. His dinner companion arrived and we hung up. I didn't get to tell him what would excite me. An hour later, I still don't know the answer.
Living in Los Angeles, is different than any other city in the world. No one is from here. There is no pride in community because there is no community. Everyone has moved here for a reason, for their own purpose. With that said, everyone here has an agenda. Maybe to write a screenplay, maybe to be famous, maybe to be rich, maybe to be able to say that they eat at the same restaurant as Robert DeNiro. It is never because they love the sun, the hikes in the Hollywood Hills, or the pool of reliable friends from which they can swim. Those are all things overlooked.
Imagine trying to date in this environment. Imagine trying to not only survive, but thrive in this environment while still trying to own your soul and stay authentic to who you are. Most people aren't that strong and get swept up in the greed, swallowed by the loneliness and spit out soul less and hollow. I don't want to be one of these people.
I don't want to feel like a failure because other people my age own a house and I rent. I don't want to feel like a failure because my friends are married and I am not dating. I don't want to feel like a failure because my friends make millions of dollars a year and I scrape by on what is now considered poor middle class.
I want to learn to embrace my journey as my own. To not compare mine to others. Instead to compare to where I am from, where I have been, where I am, who I am, who I am continuously becoming. To instead tap into my soul and know who I am and envision who I want to be and living my life for me. Owning my mistakes and flaws along the way. I want to know what excites and stimulates me when my friends ask.
I want to remember how excited I used to be watching a Bette Midler concert in my living room. The adrenaline that coursed through my body when Madonna would release a new album. The alive feeling I felt when I would run around the Hollywood Reservoir with the Hollywood sign watching over me, welcoming me to it's gates. The overwhelming disbelief the first time I set foot on a movie set with Morgan Freeman delivering a White House Press Conference as the president of the United States, as I stood silently, convinced I had walked into someone else's shoes. The breathlessness I felt when Erin brought Joe into this world and the love I not only felt, but knew when I was invited to witness. The pride I felt the day I graduated High School. Accomplishment filled with wide-eyed possibility of the world ahead of me. I walked across the field that day, not worried about who was beating me on my journey or who who was winning. At that point, I never considered life as a race. I walked across that field that day knowing I was going to leave my mark and I couldn't wait to get started. When did my mind switch gears and decide that life wasn't to be lived and savored, but to be sped through with fear of being the last man standing.
A favorite quote of mine from Lily Tomlin is, "the trouble with winning the rat race is that even if you win, you are still a rat". I need to stop racing and fearing that I am going to be last to cross the finish line. Life isn't a race, it is a constant circle. An endless journey. I need to go back to that focus of who I am and how I want to be remembered. I want to be in control of how I am remembered as people cross my footprints on their journey. Not to compare themselves, but to find inspiration to keep living. To want to leave their own mark.
It is time to go back to living my life for me, not worrying about how I measure up to everyone else.
It is amazing what meeting someone new can do for your memory. Self-reflection can be a healthy study in oneself to discover who you are and what you want to be.
Much heavier than I anticipated. Hoping it doesn't haunt me down the road that I am sharing it in my blog instead of my private diary...
Friday, August 13, 2004
Such pressure
OOOH! It is Friday the 13th... isn't that supposed to be lucky??? Or is it the night I get stabbed by a dead guy in a hockey mask?? I am getting ready to leave and start my weekend, but I thought I would say hi. I am feeling pressure to be more interesting because I am obsessed with Zach Braff's blog. So tonight I am going out with Kyle, Mikala and Lindsey and getting blotto on tequila and hoping I can come up with some interesting adventure to share.
Next week I am going to New York, so if I can't come up with anything before then, I will be sure to make something happen there!
Have you gone to the left and registered to vote yet?? (By left, I mean the contents on the left, not have you gone all liberal Democrat on me... but have you?)
So sad that Julia Childs died today... I loved her... I can remember her from my childhood... my grandmother loved her and loved to cook, so I always associated them together... I hate getting old. I hate for the party to end and I hate to be the last one at the party. Life should be stuck in the constant crescendo of the party. Right when everyone is having the most fun on the dance floor. They are slightly buzzed but not drunk enough to be an asshole and every smile you see is your friend. Wouldn't it be great if life was always like that???
But I guess the good news is, there is always another party around the corner... more smiles to fall in love with, more dance moves to bust out...
I sound drunk already... I am out.
Next week I am going to New York, so if I can't come up with anything before then, I will be sure to make something happen there!
Have you gone to the left and registered to vote yet?? (By left, I mean the contents on the left, not have you gone all liberal Democrat on me... but have you?)
So sad that Julia Childs died today... I loved her... I can remember her from my childhood... my grandmother loved her and loved to cook, so I always associated them together... I hate getting old. I hate for the party to end and I hate to be the last one at the party. Life should be stuck in the constant crescendo of the party. Right when everyone is having the most fun on the dance floor. They are slightly buzzed but not drunk enough to be an asshole and every smile you see is your friend. Wouldn't it be great if life was always like that???
But I guess the good news is, there is always another party around the corner... more smiles to fall in love with, more dance moves to bust out...
I sound drunk already... I am out.
Tuesday, August 10, 2004
Vote Baby Vote
Who you vote for is up to you. It is your inalienable right. So use it. I have added a link to the left, just click on it and make sure you are registered to vote, and when it comes time, make sure to go out and do it. A change is gonna come...
I was born by the river in a little tent
And just like that river
I've been running ever since
It's been a long time coming
But I know a change is gonna come, oh yes it will
It's been too hard living, but I'm afraid to die
Cos I don't know what's out there beyond the sky
It's been a long, a long time coming
But I know a change is gonna come, oh yes it will
And then I go to see my brother
And I ask him to help me please
And he just winds up knockin' me
Back down on my knees
There were times when I thought I couldn't last for long
But now I think I'm able to carry on
It's been a long, been a long time coming
But I know a change is gonna come, oh yes it will
- Sam Cooke
a scary dream and endless thoughts...
I had the most bizarre and intense dream last night. I dreamt that Los Angeles was being bombed. I was on top of a hill looking out across the valley and there were bombs going off that looked like mini atom bombs. I was terrified and began to run up the hill and into the woods when I realized that the woods were peppered with terrorists. I could hear other people running and screaming as well. So I laid behind a rock making sure not to move. Then I saw a man in a black mask with his gun pointed at me. Before I could scream, he shot me. The dream was so vivid, that I could feel the bullet enter and pass through my left shoulder blade. I could feel the chill of the blood leaving my body. The next thing I knew, I was waking up in a hospital in Mexico. I was a lucky survivor, but most people hadn't survived. They dropped me at the border, but it was up to me to get back home. I kept telling people Heidi's phone number. Ben was at the border as well. He was uninjured and just trying to get back home also, but couldn't help me. Shortly after, the radio woke me.
Have I been reading too much news lately? Has it finally entered into my psyche? I have never had a dream like that before. So terrifying, so vivid. It definitely had me shaken up this morning. I was relieved when I realized that my shoulder wasn't paralyzed.
I saw the new movie GARDEN STATE last night. Loved it. I really did. The last 2 minutes I probably would have made a little different, but up until that moment, it was brilliantly rich and colorful with it's characters and story arch. Who knew Zach Braff had it in him? Coincidentally, I stumbled upon his "blog" yesterday and he was promoting one Gavin DeGraw on his website. Great minds think alike. Now if only he thought as much of me when I accidentally accosted him last Halloween at the Skybar. (A tale for another day)
Also had dinner with my brother last night. He is moving here in two weeks. Should prove adventuresome to say the least.
Was listening to the Backstreet Boys on the radio yesterday and was perplexed. We all know they had a hit song called, "I Want It That Way" but then I realized they had a song called "More Than That". They kept singing, "I can love you more than that". Here's what I want to know, in both songs, what does the word "that" refer to? It makes no sense to me and is incredibly vague.
Did you know that Fijian Rum has no proof? One Mai Tai and you may as well be shooting heroin. Thanks always to Paddy for inspiring such inebriation...
Neal's art gets hung at the gallery today. Must send out reminder Evite so that everyone turns out for the opening. Saw the pieces yesterday... there is some very good stuff in there, but don't tell him I said so...
Started back up officially on South Beach yesterday. Mustn't eat sugars and certainly no Fijian Rum! Feel free to rip any bread or dessert you see going anywhere near my mouth from my hands.
The Hemming's are in labor right now. The office is abuzz with excitement over a new baby to ogle. Exciting times.
Off to call therapist now about disturbingly frightful dream...
Have I been reading too much news lately? Has it finally entered into my psyche? I have never had a dream like that before. So terrifying, so vivid. It definitely had me shaken up this morning. I was relieved when I realized that my shoulder wasn't paralyzed.
I saw the new movie GARDEN STATE last night. Loved it. I really did. The last 2 minutes I probably would have made a little different, but up until that moment, it was brilliantly rich and colorful with it's characters and story arch. Who knew Zach Braff had it in him? Coincidentally, I stumbled upon his "blog" yesterday and he was promoting one Gavin DeGraw on his website. Great minds think alike. Now if only he thought as much of me when I accidentally accosted him last Halloween at the Skybar. (A tale for another day)
Also had dinner with my brother last night. He is moving here in two weeks. Should prove adventuresome to say the least.
Was listening to the Backstreet Boys on the radio yesterday and was perplexed. We all know they had a hit song called, "I Want It That Way" but then I realized they had a song called "More Than That". They kept singing, "I can love you more than that". Here's what I want to know, in both songs, what does the word "that" refer to? It makes no sense to me and is incredibly vague.
Did you know that Fijian Rum has no proof? One Mai Tai and you may as well be shooting heroin. Thanks always to Paddy for inspiring such inebriation...
Neal's art gets hung at the gallery today. Must send out reminder Evite so that everyone turns out for the opening. Saw the pieces yesterday... there is some very good stuff in there, but don't tell him I said so...
Started back up officially on South Beach yesterday. Mustn't eat sugars and certainly no Fijian Rum! Feel free to rip any bread or dessert you see going anywhere near my mouth from my hands.
The Hemming's are in labor right now. The office is abuzz with excitement over a new baby to ogle. Exciting times.
Off to call therapist now about disturbingly frightful dream...
Friday, August 06, 2004
A Service worth promoting...
My friend Brandi forwarded this to me this afternoon... you know I love a good cocktail, so it is only fair and smart that I should support such a clever service... It started in London and has just recently launched stateside (and you know what an Anglophile I am)...
In the last month, 2 friends have driven themselves home too tipsy and / or too tired.
One friend drove into a parked car and woke up with his face in an airbag, lights flashing, smashed windshield -- his car totaled. amazingly he was not hurt, nor was anyone else.
Another friend thought she was sober enough to drive home, but her judgment was off, and she hit a curb and crashed into a street lamp. thankfully only her car was damaged.
We are all thanking our lucky stars that these drivers weren't hurt and they didn't hurt any other friends or family members riding around town that night.
If the cops had been around, both friends would have been busted for driving with alcohol in their system. I know someone who got a DUI a few years back -- he had to pay $2,000 just to get a lawyer to talk to him, had his drivers license suspended, and had to ride his bike to work for 6 months. There were 200,000 DUIs in California last year. Average cost: $10,000.
CONSIDER THIS NEW SERVICE: www.HomeJames.com
Call Home James and a personal chauffeur will drive you home in your own car -- then ride away on a specially designed fold-up scooter that is carried in your trunk.
You won't have to worry about where you left your car, overnight parking fees, theft of vandalism, and you don't have to waste your time the next day, waiting for another cab or a friend to tak eyou back. Best of all you can relax, enjoy yourself and not stress about drinking and driving.
Home James is a Members Only service. We need your permission to drive your vehicles and are required by law to have you authorize our drivers to drive for you.
Join now and receive a 1 year membership for free.
Email us at: promotions@homejamesusa.com
Our prices are very competitive. They are less than a return taxi cab fare. More to the point, you and your car are home safe. At the same time. What price is peace of mind?
$30 for 0-5 miles
$45 for 5.1-10 miles
$60 for 10.1 - 15 miles
contact Home James for prices on further distances.
In the last month, 2 friends have driven themselves home too tipsy and / or too tired.
One friend drove into a parked car and woke up with his face in an airbag, lights flashing, smashed windshield -- his car totaled. amazingly he was not hurt, nor was anyone else.
Another friend thought she was sober enough to drive home, but her judgment was off, and she hit a curb and crashed into a street lamp. thankfully only her car was damaged.
We are all thanking our lucky stars that these drivers weren't hurt and they didn't hurt any other friends or family members riding around town that night.
If the cops had been around, both friends would have been busted for driving with alcohol in their system. I know someone who got a DUI a few years back -- he had to pay $2,000 just to get a lawyer to talk to him, had his drivers license suspended, and had to ride his bike to work for 6 months. There were 200,000 DUIs in California last year. Average cost: $10,000.
CONSIDER THIS NEW SERVICE: www.HomeJames.com
Call Home James and a personal chauffeur will drive you home in your own car -- then ride away on a specially designed fold-up scooter that is carried in your trunk.
You won't have to worry about where you left your car, overnight parking fees, theft of vandalism, and you don't have to waste your time the next day, waiting for another cab or a friend to tak eyou back. Best of all you can relax, enjoy yourself and not stress about drinking and driving.
Home James is a Members Only service. We need your permission to drive your vehicles and are required by law to have you authorize our drivers to drive for you.
Join now and receive a 1 year membership for free.
Email us at: promotions@homejamesusa.com
Our prices are very competitive. They are less than a return taxi cab fare. More to the point, you and your car are home safe. At the same time. What price is peace of mind?
$30 for 0-5 miles
$45 for 5.1-10 miles
$60 for 10.1 - 15 miles
contact Home James for prices on further distances.
Thursday, August 05, 2004
Friend won't back off on pushing her political beliefs
Feeling overwhelmed by the endless political email forwards your friends keep sending you? I thought Tuesday's Dear Abby was very appropriate and topical. It is one thing for people to click on Michael Moore's website on their own free will, it is another to copy and paste his views and solicit them to their friend's as their own. Politics and religion should only be discussed when invited and when two people are willing to "discuss" (meaning to talk as well as listen to each other's opinions). I don't think it is fair to bombard your friends with your unsolicited views, certainly not in these chaotic times. Send me a joke, send me pics of hot men. Know your audience, but leave the politics and religion for my own digestion and consideration.
Aug. 3, 2004, 10:05PM
DEAR ABBY
Universal Press Syndicate
Dear Abby: A woman I have known for 10 years has different political beliefs from mine. I haven't viewed this as a reason to end the friendship; I just don't bring up the subject of politics with her. She, on the other hand, constantly "slams" my beliefs, in person and via e-mail.
I have recently received several offensive letters from her. I didn't respond and she keeps prodding me for a reaction. Believe me, she doesn't want to hear what I have to say about her behavior. I have asked her to stop pushing her opinions on me and still she persists.
I feel that her antics are extremely disrespectful, and I'm to the point of ending communication with her altogether. What have you to say on this issue?
— Harassed in Houston
Dear Harassed: Tell her that the subject of politics is verboten until after the election. There's a reason for that old warning, "Don't discuss sex, religion or politics" — it can end friendships. She's not going to change your views, and you aren't going to change hers. Although she may be doing this to get a rise out of you, it's disrespectful and a touch malicious.
and since it is my website, have you visited Michael Moore's lately????
Aug. 3, 2004, 10:05PM
DEAR ABBY
Universal Press Syndicate
Dear Abby: A woman I have known for 10 years has different political beliefs from mine. I haven't viewed this as a reason to end the friendship; I just don't bring up the subject of politics with her. She, on the other hand, constantly "slams" my beliefs, in person and via e-mail.
I have recently received several offensive letters from her. I didn't respond and she keeps prodding me for a reaction. Believe me, she doesn't want to hear what I have to say about her behavior. I have asked her to stop pushing her opinions on me and still she persists.
I feel that her antics are extremely disrespectful, and I'm to the point of ending communication with her altogether. What have you to say on this issue?
— Harassed in Houston
Dear Harassed: Tell her that the subject of politics is verboten until after the election. There's a reason for that old warning, "Don't discuss sex, religion or politics" — it can end friendships. She's not going to change your views, and you aren't going to change hers. Although she may be doing this to get a rise out of you, it's disrespectful and a touch malicious.
and since it is my website, have you visited Michael Moore's lately????
Tuesday, August 03, 2004
Mirna and Schmirna
Is anyone else watching the Amazing Race this season? I am completely obsessed with cousins Charla and Mirna (otherwise known to the other teams as Mirna and Schmirna). My heart swelled when Charla hopped on that horse and drug the camel across the desert. I loved Mirna being freaked out about sending Charla in the well, while Charla pretty much sang her way down and back up. My favorite moment however, was them sneaking away from the other team members while they slept in the airport. It also kills me how obsessed Mirna is at the end of each episode when she sees the host with how she looks and smells. She always has to give him a hug. I can't help but think she is going to lay the biggest kiss on him the night of their final episode... It is good TV. But who do you think will ultimately win????
I have also been watching Arrested Development on Sunday nights. Jo and Peter have been swearing by it all year, and laughing at their inside phrases. I now officially know what a nevernude is. I will be making my cutoffs in the morning... I recommend you start recording it on Sunday nights. The LA Times last week reported that this show is reinventing the sitcom (something that needs doing).
Clara is taking her dog to begin acupuncture tomorrow. Lola survived last year's surgery, but is apparently now tending to any minor pain that may be residual. I want Lola's life! Aye aye aye!
I am off to read The Hours now. I didn't feel that A Home At The End Of The World destroyed me enough last week, so I am tackling Michael Cunningham's Pulitzer Prize-winning novel for a final punch in the stomach!
Apul and Adam go to White Castle
Last night after work, I went with my friend Greg to see "Harold and Kumar Go To White Castle"... I have a strong suspicion that the movie would be funnier if you were stoned while watching it. Alas, I was only two gin martinis in. The funny part was that sitting in our exact row, were Apul and Adam. Apul is my 5'2" Puerto Rican friend with very limited English. He has asked me to mention to any eligible lady friends out there that he has long flowing back hair. Again, his english is limited, but based on the hair on his knuckles, he may be telling the truth. Adam is a homosexual friend of mine who works for a local latin TV station. Adam is worried about his anonymity, so from now on, he would like me to address him as Frankie Avalon in any future blogs. I would think that since Frankie speaks Spanish, he would know that Apul likes "the ladies" but the way Adam kept putting his arm around him during the show, maybe Apul's Spanish is as broken as his English.
Greg and I enjoyed the movie, but watching Apul squirm while Frankie put on the moves was far funnier. Of course, writing this blog has been the highlight of the entire experience.
A similar likeness to Apul for any interested ladies (again, similar, not exact... imagine more hair):
Greg and I enjoyed the movie, but watching Apul squirm while Frankie put on the moves was far funnier. Of course, writing this blog has been the highlight of the entire experience.
A similar likeness to Apul for any interested ladies (again, similar, not exact... imagine more hair):
**Some reputations and psyches were harmed in the writing of this blog.
On a more serious note about the movie....
A SPECIAL MESSAGE FROM ACTORS KAL PENN AND JOHN CHO. PLEASE FORWARD TO EVERYONE YOU KNOW! IF YOU HAVE A WEBSITE OR BLOG SITE, PLEASE POST! IF YOU HAVE A PUBLICATION - PLEASE PRINT THIS WEEK!
July 24, 2004
Dear Friends, Fans, Haters, Players, and True Money Makers,
Hey! This is Kal Penn (aka Kalpen Modi) and John Cho writing to encourage you to go see our upcoming comedy from New Line Cinema, "Harold and Kumar Go to White Castle," opening nationwide on July 30th. This film marks the first time a major studio is releasing a project with two Asian American males as the leads. We don't have stereotypical accents, we don't passively tread through the story, we're not asexual or hypersexual, there are no martial arts scenes, one-dimensional cab driver segments. We play a couple of all-American guys who happen to be of Indian and Korean descent. Our characters (Harold and Kumar) are post-collegiate buddies who ge t the munchies and end up going on the adventure of their lives as they set out to satisfy a spontaneous craving for White Castle burgers. Ebert and Roeper just gave our movie "Two Thumbs Up"! We hope you will too. Read on.
The opening weekend for any film is extremely important. Studio executives (the people who make big decisions about movies) track the numbers from that first weekend's ticket sales and make all kinds of decisions based on that data. They decide if they will add more screens to show a film, if they will spend more money in promoting it, if they will start investing in a sequel... but most importantly, they decide if elements of the film work and whether they should do it again. In our case, that means they will be asking, "Will a strong script and story succeed or fail with 2 Asian American guys in non-stereotypical roles?". We personally think it will succeed, but we need your help! This film is our chance to prove that realistic, non-stereotypical depictions can make an aud ience have a blast, and take in enough money to make this happen in the future.
By buying a ticket to "Harold and Kumar go to White Castle", you aren't just gonna get to see a really funny movie with two dudes who look like you. Nope. You're also going to be saying to media outlets, "I support accurate representation of Asian Americans and would like to see more." You have the power to change things simply by buying a ticket to a film that we believe you'll have fun watching anyway!
Please go to the theaters next weekend and watch "Harold & Kumar Go to White Castle". We look at this awesome opportunity like we do voting in an election. Every movie ticket someone buys is a VOTE, and the cool part is, you're allowed to vote as many times as you want. With your support of the film, we will show decision-makers in Hollywood that supporting movies like these is not only the right thing to do, but is also good business. We'll also show YOU what it's like to ride a cheetah, hang glide off a cliff, pick up a hitchhiking Neil Patrick Harris (Doogie Howser), tell off a bunch of ignorant punks, get love interests, and sing Wilson Phillips at the top of our lungs.
So just hold on for one more... week, and check out the website at www.HaroldandKumar.com. This film opens the weekend of July 30th! Send this email to all of your friends. Throw parties. Order food. Make a night (or weekend) out of it and go see "Harold and Kumar go to White Castle"! This is a landmark opportunity for the Asian American community, and we are proud to be the faces involved. With your support and the success of this film, we hope that it's only the beginning of many more Asian Americans on screen...
Enjoy the movie,
Kal Penn and John Cho
"Kumar" and "Harold"
New Line Cinema's "Harold and Kumar Go to White Castle"
Monday, August 02, 2004
I've got one hand In my pocket and the other one is reaching for a Barenaked Ladies CD...
I never sat down to write my poem, but am keeping it on my list of things to do.
Have only had one flare up of Ants since the day I set the traps. Thank you for your concern.
With that out of the way... let me tell you about my newest obsession...
My friends for years and years have been trying to force the music of the Barenaked Ladies into my ears. I have fought it and resisted. I could pick out their songs on the radio and if forced to listen to them in a car, I could sing along. But I could never wrap my mind around what kind of band they were. A little "Weird Al" parody or an uptempo James Taylor? Either way, I had no desire to take the time to find out and would just deal with them as they came to me. This was also how I approached them last Friday night at the Greek Theater when they opened for Alanis Morissette.
First off, Alanis I love. Alanis saves me buckets and buckets of money in therapy. There is this strange synergy I feel with her. She came into my life in 1995 as my heart was being cheated on and bludgeoned. She sang "You Oughtta Know" and I screamed along with her. I remember my trip to Los Angeles shortly thereafter where I heard her songs full blast at BB King's during The Simpson's Christmas party. She sang "All I Really Want" and I knew I wanted it too. That was the same day I made the decision I would move to L.A. I remember being in El Centro, California on Three Kings, alone driving in the desert listening to Supposed Former Infatuation Junkie. I was lonely, uncertain about life and all that was going on around me. In a nutshell, I was miserable. The ironic part (some pun intended) is that on paper, I should have been on top of the world. My movie career was thriving. I ended each day playing basketball with George Clooney. I was living my life above and beyond expectation. Alanis wrote SFIJ after the success of Jagged Little Pill with the same confused heart. She was on top of the world and sold one of the biggest selling albums of all time, yet she wasn't happy. The album couldn't have consoled me at a better time.
In 2002, she released Under Rug Swept. Once again, her lyrics were a snapshot of where I was. "I can feel so unsexy for someone so beautiful". She wrote a song wondering about an almost run-in with the guy she wrote "You Oughtta Know" about. She wrote about her fears, insecurities and forgiveness. Things I was learning simultaneously with my "YOK" subject. "21 Things I Want in a Lover". I could come up with more, but the 21 listed would create, by my standards, the perfect man. The whole album was an inward reflection that I happened to be taking and there is solace when you realize that someone else, regardless of fame and celebrity, is going through the same thing. One of my brother-in-law Mike's favorite memories of me is on Christmas morning when I made him watch my Alanis DVD and I sang along full volume. Needless to say, I really love Alanis... and seeing her live is always an epiphany laden experience. Paddy gets her the same way I do, so it just enhances the evening.
She and I were neither excited nor tormented by the idea of the Barenaked Ladies opening the concert. Our bigger concern was whether BNL would open for Alanis or the other way around as traffic had us running late. We arrived as BNL's set began with "Brian Wilson". Paddy bought me a beer and she indulged in a margarita. Our seats were remarkable, 4th row on the right (thank you Denise!). The boys on stage were fun. They were funny. They were talented musicians. Their harmonies rivaled Crosby, Stills and Nash. Ed Robertson kept looking in our general direction and to say that he had beautiful blue eyes with depth for swimming in is an understatement. I was enraptured by their performance and towards the end of their set, we were all on our feet dancing and singing along.
Have only had one flare up of Ants since the day I set the traps. Thank you for your concern.
With that out of the way... let me tell you about my newest obsession...
My friends for years and years have been trying to force the music of the Barenaked Ladies into my ears. I have fought it and resisted. I could pick out their songs on the radio and if forced to listen to them in a car, I could sing along. But I could never wrap my mind around what kind of band they were. A little "Weird Al" parody or an uptempo James Taylor? Either way, I had no desire to take the time to find out and would just deal with them as they came to me. This was also how I approached them last Friday night at the Greek Theater when they opened for Alanis Morissette.
First off, Alanis I love. Alanis saves me buckets and buckets of money in therapy. There is this strange synergy I feel with her. She came into my life in 1995 as my heart was being cheated on and bludgeoned. She sang "You Oughtta Know" and I screamed along with her. I remember my trip to Los Angeles shortly thereafter where I heard her songs full blast at BB King's during The Simpson's Christmas party. She sang "All I Really Want" and I knew I wanted it too. That was the same day I made the decision I would move to L.A. I remember being in El Centro, California on Three Kings, alone driving in the desert listening to Supposed Former Infatuation Junkie. I was lonely, uncertain about life and all that was going on around me. In a nutshell, I was miserable. The ironic part (some pun intended) is that on paper, I should have been on top of the world. My movie career was thriving. I ended each day playing basketball with George Clooney. I was living my life above and beyond expectation. Alanis wrote SFIJ after the success of Jagged Little Pill with the same confused heart. She was on top of the world and sold one of the biggest selling albums of all time, yet she wasn't happy. The album couldn't have consoled me at a better time.
In 2002, she released Under Rug Swept. Once again, her lyrics were a snapshot of where I was. "I can feel so unsexy for someone so beautiful". She wrote a song wondering about an almost run-in with the guy she wrote "You Oughtta Know" about. She wrote about her fears, insecurities and forgiveness. Things I was learning simultaneously with my "YOK" subject. "21 Things I Want in a Lover". I could come up with more, but the 21 listed would create, by my standards, the perfect man. The whole album was an inward reflection that I happened to be taking and there is solace when you realize that someone else, regardless of fame and celebrity, is going through the same thing. One of my brother-in-law Mike's favorite memories of me is on Christmas morning when I made him watch my Alanis DVD and I sang along full volume. Needless to say, I really love Alanis... and seeing her live is always an epiphany laden experience. Paddy gets her the same way I do, so it just enhances the evening.
She and I were neither excited nor tormented by the idea of the Barenaked Ladies opening the concert. Our bigger concern was whether BNL would open for Alanis or the other way around as traffic had us running late. We arrived as BNL's set began with "Brian Wilson". Paddy bought me a beer and she indulged in a margarita. Our seats were remarkable, 4th row on the right (thank you Denise!). The boys on stage were fun. They were funny. They were talented musicians. Their harmonies rivaled Crosby, Stills and Nash. Ed Robertson kept looking in our general direction and to say that he had beautiful blue eyes with depth for swimming in is an understatement. I was enraptured by their performance and towards the end of their set, we were all on our feet dancing and singing along.
(yeah, that's him!)
Alanis snuck out during "Call and Answer" and turned it into a duet with them. Any ideas who stood in their seat crying?
A night that already had high expectations for one performer, ended with an elated heart full of new music and a new appreciation for all things barenaked, exceeding and raising the bar of all expectation.
Perhaps this will help me resolve my own issues with being a "Nevernude". But I will save that topic for another day...
Today it is all about BNL... Does anyone know how I can see a copy of Jason Priestley's documentary "Barenaked in America"? I had no idea that it had no American distribution, theatrical or video. I am officially a converted BNL fan...
Sunday, August 01, 2004
I am throwing another party!
Where: Bergamot Station
2525 Michigan Avenue, Santa Monica, CA
Phone: (310) 829-5854
I can't belieive it, but I am already throwing another event! On August 24th, please join me at Bergamot Station in Santa Monica as Neal Breton AKA "Country Neal" premiere's his first ever Gallery Art opening. He has been painting away for months to showcase his talents in his first ever exhibit... There will be beverages and nibbly things as well... it is an excellent opportunity to impress your friends and show your highbrow society side by going to an art opening...
What is Bergamot Station?
Santa Monica's sprawling fine arts complex is fast becoming the cultural epicenter for contemporary art.
The History:
Once a train depot for the now-defunct Red Line trolley, this warehouse complex houses more than 30 art galleries and the Santa Monica Museum of Art. Converted into an art gallery enclave in the '90s, it now stands as L.A.'s most stylish cultural center, frequented by local artists, designers, collectors and tourists.
Who is Country Neal?
More Info: http://www.countryneal.com
Tuesday, July 27, 2004
A Home At The End Of The World With No Ants
I already tried this once today, but the power went out at the office and I am now forced to start over from scratch... I am apologizing in advance for my wandering dribble... I have many thoughts running through my mind today, so I will just share them as I fumble across them...
First off, today I finished one of the best books I have read in quite awhile. It is called "A Home At The End Of The World" by Michael Cunningham. For some reason it echoed through me. My past, my present, my decisions, my flaws. My yearning for love, to be loved, to have a lover. It was a really great book that I picked up on a whim and couldn't have expected to devour like I did. Aren't those the best books to stumble upon?
Since the movie is in limited release in NY and LA, I drug Ben and Adam to it. I didn't cry like I did this morning as I finished the book in bed, but I am happy to say that Colin Farrell did a superb job in a very chewy character. It was also fun to see Wendy Crewson grace the screen with her magic. I still recommend the book before the movie...
The ant saga has taken a turn. I had an anonymous person post on here yesterday! I was beginning to wonder if anyone was reading, but I have made no nevermind and have continued to post away without regard. My poster sent me to the RAID site where I was schooled in the various ants and different treatments to remove them. When I got in last night, I was armed finally with proper Ant disposal. I had bought spray, traps and an electric sonar repeller. I placed traps on the new masses that were coming out of my kitchen sink and bath tub (oh yes, I had a double attack last night!), dropping them on the crowds like the house landing on the Wicked Witch of the East. It took such will power to just let them roam as I went to bed, but the box promised that they would take the bait back to the nest and they would be killed at the source.
Sure enough, tonight, there were only a small smattering around the kitchen sink and this morning when I woke up, the shower was indeed ant free. I am suddenly religious. Pray with me that this will be the last of the ant posts!
Gavin re-released his solo album today with a second disc of all the songs in a stripped and redone version. Not to be missed is the bonus track, the Sam Cooke classic "A Change Is Gonna Come". I know, I know... Gavin! Gavin! Gavin!
Have I mentioned Neal's Art Show is coming up on August 24th??
Last Saturday I was in San Diego for what was supposed to be a relaxing weekend by the pool with cocktails. Instead, I was dropped in the middle of Nerdville (a term to be used in an endearing form) as it happened to be Comi-Con, the world's largest comic book convention. You have heard of the intensity with which people attend a Star Trek convention? Imagine having the fans of every genre of comic and science fiction in a 1x1 mile radius. Storm Troopers walked the streets freely as well as aliens, spidermen and Romulans (see, even I know a thing or two about Star Trek. When not punching kitties, Rory taught us that Romulan Ale is illegal in the Federation. Yes, it was that kind of weekend). And of course, I ended up at dinner with Hayden Christensen, also known as the young Anakan Skywalker, or more commonly known as Darth Vader. I may as well have been in downtown Rome eating pizza with the pope. The whole thing got me to thinking how bizarre this person's life must be. To want to be an actor and to seek such a coveted role, and to step into the shoes of one of pop cultures most famous villains. Will he ever be taken as a serious actor or has rising to the absolute top on the first time out be the best beginning and the saddest end? As even the busboys were having their picture taken with him, I knew I needed to get out of Nerdville and return to the sanctuary of my home.
Last night I watched Bill Clinton speak at the Democratic Convention. Oh it made me ache for a new leader. It reminds me of a metaphor a gal by the name of Better Midler used recently. She spoke of how we are currently in a bit of a cloud. Fear and uncertainty run rampant in these trying times. Everyone has an opinion. Some have become afraid to share them, some should just keep their mouths shut, but we are each entitled. The majority of us don't want to talk about it for the fear of talking about it might make all of the fear a reality. But underneath all of the fear and chaos, there is hope. Hope in knowing that in time we are going to be okay. That we are in the need and want of change. That we will endure and come out the other side okay. With hope and faith grows courage and change. Sort of like when "in the Spring, the seed under the snow, grows and becomes the rose"...
I warned you my thoughts today were random...
I think tomorrow I will write a poem...
for now, it is time for bed...
First off, today I finished one of the best books I have read in quite awhile. It is called "A Home At The End Of The World" by Michael Cunningham. For some reason it echoed through me. My past, my present, my decisions, my flaws. My yearning for love, to be loved, to have a lover. It was a really great book that I picked up on a whim and couldn't have expected to devour like I did. Aren't those the best books to stumble upon?
Since the movie is in limited release in NY and LA, I drug Ben and Adam to it. I didn't cry like I did this morning as I finished the book in bed, but I am happy to say that Colin Farrell did a superb job in a very chewy character. It was also fun to see Wendy Crewson grace the screen with her magic. I still recommend the book before the movie...
The ant saga has taken a turn. I had an anonymous person post on here yesterday! I was beginning to wonder if anyone was reading, but I have made no nevermind and have continued to post away without regard. My poster sent me to the RAID site where I was schooled in the various ants and different treatments to remove them. When I got in last night, I was armed finally with proper Ant disposal. I had bought spray, traps and an electric sonar repeller. I placed traps on the new masses that were coming out of my kitchen sink and bath tub (oh yes, I had a double attack last night!), dropping them on the crowds like the house landing on the Wicked Witch of the East. It took such will power to just let them roam as I went to bed, but the box promised that they would take the bait back to the nest and they would be killed at the source.
Sure enough, tonight, there were only a small smattering around the kitchen sink and this morning when I woke up, the shower was indeed ant free. I am suddenly religious. Pray with me that this will be the last of the ant posts!
Gavin re-released his solo album today with a second disc of all the songs in a stripped and redone version. Not to be missed is the bonus track, the Sam Cooke classic "A Change Is Gonna Come". I know, I know... Gavin! Gavin! Gavin!
Have I mentioned Neal's Art Show is coming up on August 24th??
Last Saturday I was in San Diego for what was supposed to be a relaxing weekend by the pool with cocktails. Instead, I was dropped in the middle of Nerdville (a term to be used in an endearing form) as it happened to be Comi-Con, the world's largest comic book convention. You have heard of the intensity with which people attend a Star Trek convention? Imagine having the fans of every genre of comic and science fiction in a 1x1 mile radius. Storm Troopers walked the streets freely as well as aliens, spidermen and Romulans (see, even I know a thing or two about Star Trek. When not punching kitties, Rory taught us that Romulan Ale is illegal in the Federation. Yes, it was that kind of weekend). And of course, I ended up at dinner with Hayden Christensen, also known as the young Anakan Skywalker, or more commonly known as Darth Vader. I may as well have been in downtown Rome eating pizza with the pope. The whole thing got me to thinking how bizarre this person's life must be. To want to be an actor and to seek such a coveted role, and to step into the shoes of one of pop cultures most famous villains. Will he ever be taken as a serious actor or has rising to the absolute top on the first time out be the best beginning and the saddest end? As even the busboys were having their picture taken with him, I knew I needed to get out of Nerdville and return to the sanctuary of my home.
Last night I watched Bill Clinton speak at the Democratic Convention. Oh it made me ache for a new leader. It reminds me of a metaphor a gal by the name of Better Midler used recently. She spoke of how we are currently in a bit of a cloud. Fear and uncertainty run rampant in these trying times. Everyone has an opinion. Some have become afraid to share them, some should just keep their mouths shut, but we are each entitled. The majority of us don't want to talk about it for the fear of talking about it might make all of the fear a reality. But underneath all of the fear and chaos, there is hope. Hope in knowing that in time we are going to be okay. That we are in the need and want of change. That we will endure and come out the other side okay. With hope and faith grows courage and change. Sort of like when "in the Spring, the seed under the snow, grows and becomes the rose"...
I warned you my thoughts today were random...
I think tomorrow I will write a poem...
for now, it is time for bed...
Sunday, July 25, 2004
They are taking over the world. But I refuse to let them win.
Yesterday morning, I woke up to another invasion of ants in the kitchen. I am beginning to feel like a war vet with all of the flashbacks I have during the day of the countless ant bodies I have killed. The endless lines of corpses that I have had to spray down with cleaning agent and wipe up with a paper towel. The several Ant Bunker's I have flooded. Which by the way, if you think that hosing them out of their holes is mean, don't! They don't drown! Instead they mock me, turn it into the Olympics and perform synchronized swim routines (and I swear, if you put your head close enough, you could hear that it was Lionel Richie's "Say You, Say Me" they were performing to).
I was supposed to leave yesterday morning at 7 for San Diego. By the time I cleaned up yet another attack of the resilient ants, it was 8:00am. Knowing that I would be gone for the weekend, I decided it best to apply some precaution to my kitchen so that I didn't return home Sunday night to find everything in my kitchen removed by the ants (I had a scary vision of them carting Sophie out the door during a copa-cabana-conga-line with Sophie on her back with her legs in the air. You know how drunk she is by the afternoon. She would have just thought she was at a Pearl Jam concert).
So I took the advice from that website I posted yesterday and sprinkled red pepper flakes all over the counter. As I was sprinkling, there were already ants scouting out the area. But, I left them thinking they would hate the pepper flakes and run home to their friends and say, "turn back, he is on to us! Pepper flakes everywhere! We'll never make it!". That thought left my mind when I watched one of the ants walk up to a flake, and throw it on his back. I could hear him laughing at me. I decided I must've read the website wrong and got out the cayenne pepper. I generously sprinkled it everywhere. On the counters. Along the trim. It is a good thing Sophie doesn't climb on the counters.
My kitchen looked like the surface photos of Mars. But I didn't care, because I had faith, that they would get the message and go.
I returned early from San Diego. I think my ants are either Mexican or Italian because they seem to love the spicy food. That is what I deducted when I saw them dancing on my counter top at what appeared to be a mini-rave when I walked in. Again, my head was close enough and I could hear a techno remix of Lionel Richie's "Running With the Night". They were treating the pepper concoction like you would sawdust at a carnival. I couldn't grab the Windex fast enough.
My counter is now a muddy mixture of kitchen cleaner, raving ant bodies, cayenne pepper and red pepper flakes. The scene is grim. My patience is thin. I needed to vent because now I have to clean up the grossest mess to hit my kitchen since the time I made tomato soup in my cuisinart and the lid came off.
I have to go and clean my kitchen now. I will keep you posted on any further ant developments. And please, if you have any ant stories or remedies of your own, all you have to do is click below this post where it says 0 comments. You can submit an anonymous post (just include your name in the box) and you won't have to join the blogger. Help me Obie-won, you are my only hope!
I was supposed to leave yesterday morning at 7 for San Diego. By the time I cleaned up yet another attack of the resilient ants, it was 8:00am. Knowing that I would be gone for the weekend, I decided it best to apply some precaution to my kitchen so that I didn't return home Sunday night to find everything in my kitchen removed by the ants (I had a scary vision of them carting Sophie out the door during a copa-cabana-conga-line with Sophie on her back with her legs in the air. You know how drunk she is by the afternoon. She would have just thought she was at a Pearl Jam concert).
So I took the advice from that website I posted yesterday and sprinkled red pepper flakes all over the counter. As I was sprinkling, there were already ants scouting out the area. But, I left them thinking they would hate the pepper flakes and run home to their friends and say, "turn back, he is on to us! Pepper flakes everywhere! We'll never make it!". That thought left my mind when I watched one of the ants walk up to a flake, and throw it on his back. I could hear him laughing at me. I decided I must've read the website wrong and got out the cayenne pepper. I generously sprinkled it everywhere. On the counters. Along the trim. It is a good thing Sophie doesn't climb on the counters.
My kitchen looked like the surface photos of Mars. But I didn't care, because I had faith, that they would get the message and go.
I returned early from San Diego. I think my ants are either Mexican or Italian because they seem to love the spicy food. That is what I deducted when I saw them dancing on my counter top at what appeared to be a mini-rave when I walked in. Again, my head was close enough and I could hear a techno remix of Lionel Richie's "Running With the Night". They were treating the pepper concoction like you would sawdust at a carnival. I couldn't grab the Windex fast enough.
My counter is now a muddy mixture of kitchen cleaner, raving ant bodies, cayenne pepper and red pepper flakes. The scene is grim. My patience is thin. I needed to vent because now I have to clean up the grossest mess to hit my kitchen since the time I made tomato soup in my cuisinart and the lid came off.
I have to go and clean my kitchen now. I will keep you posted on any further ant developments. And please, if you have any ant stories or remedies of your own, all you have to do is click below this post where it says 0 comments. You can submit an anonymous post (just include your name in the box) and you won't have to join the blogger. Help me Obie-won, you are my only hope!
Friday, July 23, 2004
Ants Marching
So apparently my one entry regarding the mosquito eater was not enough for the insect community this week. It turns out the ants have wanted their moment in the spotlight.
I hate ants. I absolutely hate them. They are everywhere in my house right now. It seems to be ant season. They do this to me every summer, and I swear this one is the absolute worst.
On Tuesday night when I came home from work, they were forming a conga line around Sophie's cat food and partying like it was 1999 inside the dish. It was no wonder she wouldn't stop screaming when I got home. They were coming down from the ceiling (your guess is as good as mine, and yes they were walking upside down on the ceiling like a Lionel Richie song), along the wall and all over my kitchen floor. So I got out my kitchen cleaner (because do we ever actually own ant spray? in the bathroom, you use hair spray, in the kitchen, it is counter or window cleaner... generally whatever spraying substance is closest at hand (and don't try to tell me you do it differently)). I had to immerse Sophie's entire dish in the sink full of water to drown their party while I sprayed and sprayed the floor, wall and ceiling. I cleaned my mess and cooked some dinner in my freshly cleaned kitchen. Happened to turn on a rerun of Ellen and I swear to God, she was complaining about an ant problem that she had.
Her story was very similar to mine and the whackiest thing is that she talked about the ants love for the cat food! Her advice (and please feel free to pass this on): place the cat's dishes in pie tins filled with water. BRILLIANT. They can't swim to the food when it is on an isolated island in the middle of a tin!
They can however form a newer and longer line from the same entry point in the ceiling and wrap around the entire perimeter of the kitchen to find the cat food that is now in the trash, soapy, sprayed with cleaner and littered with dead ant bodies. It was the longest black line when I arrived home the following night (Sophie's cat food perfectly ant free, she just has to strain a little to get her face in the middle of the bowl). Again, out came the window cleaner (I am almost out) and the ceiling of my kitchen now has an evenly designed peppered border of any bodies. Oh yes, this is wonderful imagery. I have to actually look at it. Be thankful I haven't taken pics and posted them.
So today is day number three and I was once again cleaning them this morning, because while I was sleeping, guess who was busy at work? Ants, ants, everywhere ants. They are in my shower every morning (where they get sprayed down the drain). I am probably sleeping with them and I don't even know it.
They are a rotten creature. Ellen joked that they are actually just there to help us clean. After a dinner party, "oh, don't worry about the dishes, the ants will take care of it". Real funny, if there wasn't such truth to it.
I have often wondered what Richard Gere does. I know he is not "Ant Free" no matter how good his Buddhist kharma is. But if he believes that by killing any living creature is bad, what does he do when his cat's food is being devoured by ants? Does he relocate them? Does he play Lionel Richie in the front yard and hope that they take their party there?
If I can do anything to help you as I continue to battle the battle (because I am convinced they are trying to take over the world), I am more than happy to help. I have just come across this fantastic website with various alternatives to getting rid of ants... if we ban together, they can not take over our lives!!!
http://parents.berkeley.edu/advice/health/ants.html
and on a similar note, I don't think it is an accident that DreamWorks made a movie about annoying creatures (ants) and voiced them with some of Hollywood's most annoying personalities (Sylvester Stallone, Sharon Stone and Woody Allen). The name of the film: ANTS.
I hate ants. I absolutely hate them. They are everywhere in my house right now. It seems to be ant season. They do this to me every summer, and I swear this one is the absolute worst.
On Tuesday night when I came home from work, they were forming a conga line around Sophie's cat food and partying like it was 1999 inside the dish. It was no wonder she wouldn't stop screaming when I got home. They were coming down from the ceiling (your guess is as good as mine, and yes they were walking upside down on the ceiling like a Lionel Richie song), along the wall and all over my kitchen floor. So I got out my kitchen cleaner (because do we ever actually own ant spray? in the bathroom, you use hair spray, in the kitchen, it is counter or window cleaner... generally whatever spraying substance is closest at hand (and don't try to tell me you do it differently)). I had to immerse Sophie's entire dish in the sink full of water to drown their party while I sprayed and sprayed the floor, wall and ceiling. I cleaned my mess and cooked some dinner in my freshly cleaned kitchen. Happened to turn on a rerun of Ellen and I swear to God, she was complaining about an ant problem that she had.
Her story was very similar to mine and the whackiest thing is that she talked about the ants love for the cat food! Her advice (and please feel free to pass this on): place the cat's dishes in pie tins filled with water. BRILLIANT. They can't swim to the food when it is on an isolated island in the middle of a tin!
They can however form a newer and longer line from the same entry point in the ceiling and wrap around the entire perimeter of the kitchen to find the cat food that is now in the trash, soapy, sprayed with cleaner and littered with dead ant bodies. It was the longest black line when I arrived home the following night (Sophie's cat food perfectly ant free, she just has to strain a little to get her face in the middle of the bowl). Again, out came the window cleaner (I am almost out) and the ceiling of my kitchen now has an evenly designed peppered border of any bodies. Oh yes, this is wonderful imagery. I have to actually look at it. Be thankful I haven't taken pics and posted them.
So today is day number three and I was once again cleaning them this morning, because while I was sleeping, guess who was busy at work? Ants, ants, everywhere ants. They are in my shower every morning (where they get sprayed down the drain). I am probably sleeping with them and I don't even know it.
They are a rotten creature. Ellen joked that they are actually just there to help us clean. After a dinner party, "oh, don't worry about the dishes, the ants will take care of it". Real funny, if there wasn't such truth to it.
I have often wondered what Richard Gere does. I know he is not "Ant Free" no matter how good his Buddhist kharma is. But if he believes that by killing any living creature is bad, what does he do when his cat's food is being devoured by ants? Does he relocate them? Does he play Lionel Richie in the front yard and hope that they take their party there?
If I can do anything to help you as I continue to battle the battle (because I am convinced they are trying to take over the world), I am more than happy to help. I have just come across this fantastic website with various alternatives to getting rid of ants... if we ban together, they can not take over our lives!!!
http://parents.berkeley.edu/advice/health/ants.html
and on a similar note, I don't think it is an accident that DreamWorks made a movie about annoying creatures (ants) and voiced them with some of Hollywood's most annoying personalities (Sylvester Stallone, Sharon Stone and Woody Allen). The name of the film: ANTS.
Sunday, July 18, 2004
You are what you eat...
There is a Mosiquito Eater flying around my house. I am less intrigued on how he (or she) got in here (all the windows are screened) and more curious about the fact that he (or she) is defined by what they eat. What if, instead of calling me Bob, I was known simply as "Tomato Eater"?
It would probably be a good way to keep me on a diet. "Tomato Eater" sounds somewhat acceptable... but "Whopper Eater", "Hot Fudge Sundae Eater" or "Chicken Fried Steak Eater", would each likely land me in therapy.
It would probably be a good way to keep me on a diet. "Tomato Eater" sounds somewhat acceptable... but "Whopper Eater", "Hot Fudge Sundae Eater" or "Chicken Fried Steak Eater", would each likely land me in therapy.
Thursday, July 15, 2004
Please insert one quarter
Yesterday I was watching my friends 9 year old son play video games. He was playing Harry Potter on the Sony Playstation and as a spectator, it was like watching a movie. The graphics and the motion are so realistic and so far advanced from when I was 9 years old. To me, Donkey Kong, Frogger and Ms. Pac-Man were revolutionary. I owned a Vic 20 Computer which was the ugly step sister to the Commodore 64... the precursor to the MAC and PC. (side note: Ugly stepsister syndrome has followed me my whole life as proved by the fact that in the mid-nineties when everyone began driving VW Jetta's, I was driving a VW Fox. "What is a Fox?", people would ask. What is a Vic 20? I owned one and I still don't know.) It was essentially a keyboard you could hook up to any TV and turn it into a computer. But I doubt you could actually type an online journal or print anything. You certainly couldn't have a website.
To add insult to the ugly step sister syndrome, I would get these gaming magazines that would have pages and pages of codes that you could type into your computer (it was MS DOS based) and when you would "run" the program, you could create actual moving graphics. By graphics of course, I mean flying commas and asterisks... but still after three hours of data input, at least I had something to watch and feel accomplished. They also had a few actual games that you could build... those could take up to 6 hours to input. And in the end you were thrilled if it appeared to be as advanced as "Pong". Two bars on each side of the screen that moved up and down while a ball (again the asterisk) bounced between it. Think of it as a very slow, poor man's, air hockey. I often wonder why I gave up... I could've been Bill Gates had I continued to learn computer codes. Now I know my computer lingo about as well as that three years of German I took (nicht gut).
My relationship to video games always came in specific spurts of obsession. I have never been a "gamer", but when they were around, it was always hard to look away. I would spend hours at the quik mart down at the corner watching others spend their paper route money plunking in one quarter after another just so they could be knighted "High Scorer" in the neighborhood. People would line their quarters up on the front of the machine to determine they were next in line. Sometimes there would be up to 5 quarters up there and I would wonder, "how would you know which one was yours"? I remember a boy on my little league team, Todd Albu, owned an Atari AND an Intelevision. Going over to his house may as well have been going to Disneyland for the amount of excitement I felt. In 1988, my friend Matt had a Nintendo. Weeks would come and go of us playing Super Mario Brothers. I never cared much for the fighting games or blowing things up, but mazes and jumping and flying I could do for days. Case in point when Stephanie got "Super Mario World" for her birthday (which I still think was more for Joe than her) in the summer of '93. We were so determined to get to the next level you would have thought we were curing world peace if we actually made it to the end.
At a friend's house a few months ago, I discovered Karaoke Revolution on Playstation 2. You sing into a headset and your tone and pitch determines how well your character dances and performs on screen. It is sheer genius. A couple of Christmas' ago, I received a Playstation, my very first machine I have ever owned. It came with all of these hip new games with graphics similar to the Harry Potter game. I was too confused and ran out to the store immediately and for $9.99 I bought an Atari disc. On it were Frogger, Ms. Pac-Man, Asteroids, Centipede and the original Donkey Kong. They called it a retro bundle. I don't play them often, but when I get in the mood... watch out! There is just no beating the originals no matter how great Hermione, Ron and Harry look fending off Lord Voldemort.
Eating all of those dots before you get eaten by Pinkie the Ghost. Or getting your frog across the high paced lanes of traffic and onto the logs that are rapidly floating down the river. Poor Mario jumping over those logs that the damn monkey won't stop lobbing at him. Call me sentimental, but with time going by so quickly forward, it is nice to escape into a video game that takes me so quickly back to my youth... and that's not always a bad thing. I just wonder what it will be like in 20 years when kids are able to play the next wave of video games and the Harry Potter game is considered primitive and "retro"... Will they even know who Pac-Man was? Perhaps if I become more anxious to find out, time will actually slow down and I will have more time for playing Centipede...
Tuesday, July 13, 2004
You are bright and witty
Today at lunch I received a fortune in my fortune cookie that read, "You are bright and witty". Of course I thought, "I know" and, "what a dumb fortune". Then after I tossed it aside, I got to thinking... what if I were some boring and slow person? Because we all know people who are... I am not talking about the people who are slow to get a joke (it sometimes can take me up to 24 hours to laugh at a joke)... I am referring to the people who are generally crabby... they understand a joke, but don't laugh at it... maybe they are just a little slow on the social uptake... What goes through their head when they open a fortune like that? Do they think to themselves, "yeah, I am bright and witty" or are they actually aware of their shortcomings and think, "I wish I were... if only my mother had loved me more and kids in school had teased me less"... really all this is proving to me is that I shouldn't eat Chinese food for lunch!
Happy birthday yesterday to Annie Friedman and Peggy Harris and tomorrow to little Stephanie Jones, who at 29, is seeming a lot less little... wasn't it just yesterday that we were teenagers playing at the Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk in our red underwear?
Happy birthday yesterday to Annie Friedman and Peggy Harris and tomorrow to little Stephanie Jones, who at 29, is seeming a lot less little... wasn't it just yesterday that we were teenagers playing at the Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk in our red underwear?
Sunday, July 11, 2004
I did a lot of crying this afternoon...
I feel so vulnerable this evening. A little lost. A little sad. A little angry. A little disgusted. Extremely frustrated. I don't want to get on a soapbox and turn anyone off. We all have opinions. The greatest news is that we live in the home of the free and the land of the brave, so we are allowed to share and express them. We don't have to agree with them, but we are allowed the freedom to share them. And when someone has a good one worth sharing, I am so thankful they feel the confidence to share. Because a good opinion can spark a good conversation. And dialogue can be a magical thing.
Today I sat in a theater and cried off and on during the duration of the new film Fahrenheit 9/11. My opinion that I want to share with you is this: go and see it. No matter what you feel about Bush, or the war, or Michael Moore. No matter what you already know or think you know or know you don't know. If you are adamant about not wanting to put another 10 cents into Michael Moore's pocket (again, because you are entitled to your own opinion), pay to see White Chicks and then sneak into F9/11. And if you want, email me and I will send you a synopsis of White Chicks or you can just pay and go see it again (think of it as keeping me employed).
Again, I am not going to get on my soap box and tell you the "whys" and reviews and reasons you have to see this movie. Personally, I pulled a lot of information out of the movie that is currently affecting my core. And no, before you judge without having seen it, it is not propaganda being lobbed by Moore. The footage speaks for itself, with or without Moore's narration.
We live in a pretty great and amazing place here in the US... Shouldn't we be using our wealth and celebrity as a country to help our neighbors and friends who are less fortunate, instead of stepping on them and keeping them down just to make ourselves feel more powerful?
Again, me just having my own free opinions and questions...
p.s. I will be dropping a check in the mail tomorrow for $20 to the Democratic National Fund. It is the least I can do.
p.s.s. If you have seen the movie and are filled with questions and need for more dialogue, I found some really great things on Michael Moore's website. Also, if you click here to the right where it says comments, you too can share your voice and let me know what you think either about the movie or what I have written...
Today I sat in a theater and cried off and on during the duration of the new film Fahrenheit 9/11. My opinion that I want to share with you is this: go and see it. No matter what you feel about Bush, or the war, or Michael Moore. No matter what you already know or think you know or know you don't know. If you are adamant about not wanting to put another 10 cents into Michael Moore's pocket (again, because you are entitled to your own opinion), pay to see White Chicks and then sneak into F9/11. And if you want, email me and I will send you a synopsis of White Chicks or you can just pay and go see it again (think of it as keeping me employed).
Again, I am not going to get on my soap box and tell you the "whys" and reviews and reasons you have to see this movie. Personally, I pulled a lot of information out of the movie that is currently affecting my core. And no, before you judge without having seen it, it is not propaganda being lobbed by Moore. The footage speaks for itself, with or without Moore's narration.
We live in a pretty great and amazing place here in the US... Shouldn't we be using our wealth and celebrity as a country to help our neighbors and friends who are less fortunate, instead of stepping on them and keeping them down just to make ourselves feel more powerful?
Again, me just having my own free opinions and questions...
p.s. I will be dropping a check in the mail tomorrow for $20 to the Democratic National Fund. It is the least I can do.
p.s.s. If you have seen the movie and are filled with questions and need for more dialogue, I found some really great things on Michael Moore's website. Also, if you click here to the right where it says comments, you too can share your voice and let me know what you think either about the movie or what I have written...
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