Showing posts with label Susan Powter. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Susan Powter. Show all posts

Wednesday, December 24, 2008

Every Day is Christmas Day Top Ten Holiday Specials Spectacular

(My brother) Lewis & I had a team meeting today and decided next year we're gonna do this thing on a nice spring weekend. Mom said okay if we can go on outings. I said let's go to the Henry Ford Museum, Lewis said okay. I said let's go when Greenfield Village is in season, Lewis said "that's pushing it." That's fine, I'll churn my own butter, I don't need a historical recreation village to work my wood for me.

Anyhow speaking of the good parts of Christmas, as a young Jew in Amerika, I grew up la-la-loving Christmas Specials. They warmed me from my navel to my gut (short path physically, but long path emotionally) and made me yearn to be like everyone else, as I so often did as a child. In retrospect, perhaps this elementary burning desire to fit in was a kind of overcompensating -- feeling intrinsically abnormal (queer), I wanted even MORE to constantly appear normal (Christian). In further retrospect, I think it's 'cause Christmas Specials rock, I love the endings with the HANDEL! and the CAROLS! And the pan out! Everyone smiling & doing that squeeze-hug thing!

I've been writing this in bits and pieces. As much as this is a Sunday Top Ten obstensibly about Christmas specials, this is just a scrapbook of my slapshot brain in ten-minute intervals over the last three days.
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Also:
www.justgive.org.
The perfect present for anyone on your list. If they don't like it, then they're a bad person. Srsly. So it's a win win.
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Every Day is Sunday for Jesus Top Ten Autowin Christmas Special

10. Cross-Country Reunions: People from far-away places all come together for the joy of Christmas, yeah? Jonathan Franzen's novel The Corrections is not actually a Christmas special, it's a book (one of my top ten favorites actually), but anyhow it takes about 500 pages to unravel the events resulting from the mother's determination that the family MUST have a "real family Christmas" that year. It's a popular plot for family-reunion centric films and television cast reunions. In the Autowin X-Mas special, Haviland would come all the way from L.A. (or Savannah, where she currently is) to someplace we all wanted to be like Belize.

Actually, my day-to-day functional "family" -- my friends, that is -- we're never more spread out than we are during the holidays. It's weird, that urban life does that to you, and then going home you end up feeling more disjointed and out of sorts than you do the rest of the year, which I think is the opposite of what Charles Dickens intended. Or G-d.

It might surprise you that for two girls who spend most of our Christmas vaycays texting each other in all caps about various neurotic inabilities to exist outside our prescribed comfort zones, Haviland & I share a deep burning love for The Christmas Special. Especially A Very Brady Christmas. We made a whole vlog about it but there was no sound. These things happen. Not in X-Mas specials, in X-Mas specials there'd be a miracle, and the miracle would be Sound. 9 times out of 10, "a computer disaster being fixed" would be my kind of miracle.
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9. Angels: It's dangerous to confuse people with angels. (Magnolia: "it's dangerous to confuse children with angels.") I do it all the time, I'll never stop. I wouldn't mind a Juliana Hatfield angel, like Angela got in My So-Called Life's Christmas episode, Angels. Hatfield's voice is probs how angels really do sing. Soft, but weathered. Santa wasn't a huge surprise for me, it was always hard to believe one dude could buy and carry around all that shit. But angels? Why not? Why the hell not?
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Jordan : My old man used to knock me around, too ... he hasn't done in a couple of years, though. He's too scared. 'Cause the last time -- I-I threw a chair at him.
Rickie : Well, I'm going to light a candle for you on Christmas Eve.
Jordan : Oh, yeah, you think that changes anything?
Rickie : Yes.

[At the end, Jordan lights a candle. 'Cause he feels the spirit of hope & togetherness, just like the whole Chase family as they all go to church together with Rickie because his Dad beats him but they're all together in church and singing and the angel died from freezing but that's okay.]
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8. Pageantry!: I used to love this book The Best Christmas Pageant Ever -- the Herdmans are this white trash family that everyone else hates. The kids fully smoke & swear & drink and eschew church but by some YA novel-esque twist of imagination and ridiculous fate, they're all cast as leads in the annual pageant. As expected, Hijinks ensue. I can't remember exactly, but I feel like it was awesome and everyone got the true meaning of Christmas in the end, which is good will & brotherhood to all mankind. There's nothing I love like a poorly put-on community theater-style play, and I put on many in my day.

Though I did execute an admirable production of The Grinch Who Stole Christmas (I was Cindy Loo-Hoo) in 1991, I haven't had another chance to exercise my video making skills with any of the classic stories of Christmas. Maybe next year. Haviland can be Dasher and Vixen. I'll be Cindy Loo-Hoo again, obvs. I epically failed the first time around 'cause my cousin Glen made me laugh so hard I almost wet my pants for real -- when it was announced that it was Christmas-time he popped out of bed like a jack-in-the-box with big wild eyes and went "IT IS?" and then you can see my little Bam-Bam ponytail just bobble on my head as I attempt to contain myself.

When you're a kid and you say "I almost wet my pants" you're usually actually kinda serious. Now it's just a figure of speech I guess. Obviously everything's under control in that area now and also was at the time. I've been writing this in stages as I have a series of small, self-centered meltdowns, and I think that comes through in the writing. I wonder how many people really read the random middle bits, I bet you mostly skim through. Get the start, get the end, comment, go read AfterEllen. For all of you in the middle, don't be surprised if you get a miracle in your stocking.
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7. Sing-a-Longs: Say what you want about Jesus, that kid wrote some smokin' hot tracks. Mom used to hate it when I'd try to turn Christmas songs into Hannukah songs just so I could sing them, but I WAS DREAMING OF A WHITE CHRISTMAS. Boyz II Men's "Let It Snow" didn't necessarily imply Jesus. Driedel Driedel Hoo-ha is a bad song. I'm a big fan of David Bowie & Bing Crosby singing "Little Drummer Boy." My heart melts for "Do They Know It's Christmas," and all other charity-centric Christmas musical ventures. War is Over? Possibly one of my favorite songs of all time.

In the secret Christmas Special of my life, we'd all gather together and do "Hark Herald the Angels" like at the end of A Charlie Brown Christmas, and I'll turn out to secretly be an amazing singer. I love it when that happens. OMG! I just remembered that I've gone all X-mas season without listening to my favorite Christmas song of all time, "All I Want For Christmas (Is You)" by Mariah Carey. I gotta crank that shit up tomorrow on the drive to Ohio!
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6. OMG SUSAN POWTER CUT OFF ALL OF HER HAIR FOR CHRISTMAS !

Sorry, I went to youtube to look for a video, and I saw her (I only subscribe to Susan Powter, FourFour and Sara Benicasa, I'm very picky obvs) and her new video titled "the best holiday gift ever." This is my gift to you. No it's not the gift of wellness and fat-burning. It's the magic of transcribing anything Susan Powter says onto paper. It's one thing to hear it and quite another to read it. I'm not skipping anything here, that's not what the dashes or ellipses mean.

"This is the finale because i'm keeping my hair like this for as long as I like 'cause the stuff i'm gonna do with black roots and blonde tips -- the freedom of it! The feeling of it on my head -- don't even ask -- I'm gonna be doing a lot of big sweaty stuff -- and I just -- need like -- cute that you can -- POSH SPICE-E it up -- because it's time you see what's going on, I haven't been able to show you -- it's time you understand -- should I tell you? That I just did a yoga class, but not just yoga, not even just -- when I talk about exercise, don't even think that you know what I'm talking about, because you don't. I'm talking about wahtever I do which sometimes involves exercise and whatever I do which sometimes involves and weaves in and I take pieces from sprint energy and burning fat and yoga and step and I do whatever the hell I want whenever the hell I do it and by the way it's FREEZING."
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5. Surprise Guests: A new puppy! The Ghost of Christmas Past! Santa Claus! The soldier is home from war! Families Reunite! It's Rickie! The kitten is warm! It's Elijah! It's Jesus! It's Tickle Me Elmo! Daddy's dressed as Santa Claus! the Surprise Guest unites the cast of said Christmas special, is unexpected and delightful and often homeless. Often enters in large wintery trenchcoat, shakes off the snowflakes and is embraced by children. Is a breath of pine-green-fresh air. I'd like to request Ryan Clayburn or Uh Huh Her. Those would be my top two favorite unexpected guests who are alive. Tinkerbell wants me to mention Littlefoot but she'll see her soon enough.

Sometimes it's not a surprise guest so much as it is a surprise FROM a guest. Like in the Saved by the Bell Christmas special, which takes place in the mall (the mall is one of my many obsessions), where the girl Zach is crushing on turns out to be homeless. Luckily it's Christmas so everyone gets some turkey. I don't like turkey but if I was homeless I might change my tune.

Who will be the surprise guest at tomorrow's Bernard family Christmas? Wouldn't it be funny if I was like -- ALEX! No. The surprise guest will be Tinkerbell. At the Hannukah party, she was not well received. I do not have high expectations for X-mas recieving of Tinkerbell. Hopefully next year I'll be dating someone famous but secretly gay, like Ellen Page, 'cause then my family would be eased into the idea gently, via movie star.
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4. Muppets! The first X-mas special of all time, Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, featured a cast of 100% wooden puppets. Why not muppets? 'Cause they hadn't been invented yet. Luckily times have changed. No offense to the wooden puppet movies, I loved those too.

Muppet movies combine all of my favorite aspects of visual entertainment: Muppets (I'm actually 1/2 muppet, true story), carefully coreographed singing & dancing numbers, witty inside jokes, and famous people dancing with muppets. This year's Muppets X-Mas Special features Jessie Martin, Mayor Bloomberg, Jane Krakowski, Uma Thurman, Whoopi Goldberg, etc. It doesn't hold a candle to A Muppet Christmas Carol or A Muppet Family Christmas. To be honest I only watched about 10 minutes of the new one. Where was I? I love muppets. What was the point of this Top Ten? The point is that somehow I've managed to spend the last three days entirely in my head, no matter where I've been.

Which is why I wish I was a whole muppet, not just a muppet in some pictures.
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3. Random Star Buffet: Instead of actually writing this, I've been watching the Pee-Wee's Playhouse Christmas Special with featured special guests Cher (iconic pop diva!), K.D. Lang (lesbian lounge singer!), Laurence Fishbourne (serious actor!), Frankie Avalon (cheesy 50's crooner!), Charro (lunatic with big boobs!), Whoopi Goldberg (versatile comic actress!), Magic Johnson (basketball star!), Little Richard (actual singer!), Grace Jones (wearing an incredible outfit and signing!) and Oprah Winfrey (talk show host!) This video of KD Lang (starts around the 2:00 mark) in a denim bedazzled DRESS singing "Rockin' around the Christmas Tree" will probs make your head explode. (See screenshot, left). Pee-Wee's special is really first-rate, you should watch it.

In my Christmas Special, I'd also like to assemble an all-star group of unrelated iconic figures. Obvs Haviland Stillwell and Tegan & Sara. I'd need some good dancers, maybe the cast of "In the Heights" or those little boys from Billy Elliot. Julie Goldman 'cause she's funny. Barack Obama -- good speaker, very popular right now. The Fab Five in their college form. The revival cast of "Sweet Charity" doing "Big Spender" or Audrey Hepburn doing the dance from Funny Face. RuPaul. Maybe if The Cure wanted to stop by. I'll think about this one I have some more. Who'd be in your variety show?

3. Even though we're adults and adults have problems our tragedies are overcome by the spirit of family and togetherness!


The best christmas special of all time, 1988's A Very Brady Christmas, is the perfect archetype of how adult Christmas should go. See -- Marcia's husband just lost his job, Peter's having an affair with his boss, Bobby dropped out of school to become a race-car driver, Jan's getting divorced and even Sam the Butcher has left poor Alice for another woman! Then Mike gets trapped inside his building! WHO WILL SAVE CHRISTMAS?

Well the kind recapper on IMDB explains: "In the end, Mike gets out of the trap after Carol (and the rest of the gang) sing O Come All Ye Faithful."

So there you go. No but really -- this never happens. Maybe if you're in Jesus's family, 'cause I thnk it happens sometimes for birthdays. But never has someone been like "man, we were all really down about Uncle Horace leaving Aunt Gertrude for a boy he met at the gas station, but then the spirit of Christmas overtook us, Grandma even learned to walk again! We just sang O Come All Ye Faithful!" In this sense, Christmas movies are the best kind of sci-fi fantasy films, and they fill you with a hope rarely replicated in life. If you've got the real thing though, then man -- you are lucky. I had it once. Honestly, I did. We did. I loved Christmas so fucking much, it was the best time of the year. Now we've got some grab bag of adult tragedies. Liars, tramps and theives. I'm the liar, Tinkerbell is the tramp. Just FYI.
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2. Travel Debacles Resolved by Magic Polka Bands!
Did you think I'd get away without relaying a moment-by-moment recap of my X-mas travel debacle? Of course not!

Christmas specials often involve a travel debacle. These are generally resolved in madcap hijinks and a scene in the airport where the bedraggled traveler will beg for a ticket to anywhere so they can see their family. I cannot imagine this kind of desperation but apparently it happens. JK Mom, it happened to me actually just this weekend.

Obvs I'll be writing Delta Airlines to share my feelings about their performance on Saturday. I arrived at the airport at 3 P.M. and arrived in Michigan at 6 A.M. the next day, meaning it officially would've been faster to drive. Also then I could've brought the kayak. I don't mind airplane delays -- I count on them, actually -- but I do mind an airline insisting that the flight is on time as we sit panicking in traffic, insisting the flight is on time when they tell me I won't even get ON IT 'cause after waiting in line for 10 minutes, I'm 3 minutes too late to check my bag -- I'm calling Alex telling her she's gonna have to come back and get me, I'm calling my Mom telling her I won't be coming home since they can't get me on another flight, and I'm actually upset about this, 'cause my Mom I know will be upset not to see me and I bought a kayak already -- I mind Delta insisting the flight is on time as I literally sprint to the gate, only to then sit through seven hours of them periodically switching the departure time to the present time about every 10 minutes when clearly that isn't gonna happen. It was just ... weird. I could've spent all that time at home, complaining to Alex & making animal noises with Natalie or perhaps exercising at the local gym. Or buying presents. I could've even felt safe wandering more than ten minutes away from the sign, which continued to tell us we were leaving in the next ten minutes.

It was kinda like I was having sex with Delta, and as soon as we started Delta said they were gonna come and i was like, oh, okay, that's unexpectedly quick for you, Delta, but still, that's cool, I'm on board, and then they were like, "no, it's too soon," and you know, we did other things unlikely to immediately incite orgasm or they closed their eyes and thought about my mother making cookies, and then went back to it and then Delta was like "omg, I'm almost there," and I was like ok and we were doing our thing, and then they keep saying they're almost there and then it's like hours and hours pass of me giving it my all and then it's the next morning and still no one has exploded all over the keyboard. Then we get on the plane and wait on the plane for another three hours, which I guess the analogy for that would be unnecessary cuddling when I want to go to bed. Or them being like "now you!" and me being like "I don't even give a shit anymore."

In Home Alone, Kevin's Mom ends up traveling home with a polka band headed by John Candy. I think? That would've been neat.

1. Happy Ending with Singing and Happiness and Togetherness where all is calm and all is bright.


I guess the thing is about Christmas Specials is you know it'll have a happy ending. Not just any happy ending, but the kind where everyone you love is gathered around a mutually loved place, having been through something tough, and the camera zooms out at the end to show everyone who's there, together, and there's music or maybe food, maybe a new dog or random homeless person.

And you watch the whole thing knowing this'll be the ending -- 'cause that's the only thing that's the same about all of these specials and movies -- which's more or less how we all want life to work out too, is knowing that all the delayed flights and fleeting angels and snowdrifts and yelling at strangers are just the little debacles you get through to reach the food and the music and the hugs. The kind where the camera turns and the angel is gone but someone winks, or smiles, knowing they were there, and everything's okay. Or something like that. The tree is all you ever wanted, the wagon makes your dreams come true, life really is that simple. And I'm pretty sure it is, actually, it's ME making it so fucking complicated.

And the grinch's heart grew six sizes that day
xxx xxx

Friday, September 26, 2008

Friday Looks Good for Auto-Fun

Firstly, thanks to all y'all for the b-day wishes on my last post! I am now 62 and it feels really good, I can't wait to take my limbs to Sandusky and careen towards infinity on the Magnum. If I wanted to express my gratitude via metaphor, I'd compare my emotions to a unicorn galloping through a jasmine aura in Barbados. Then I'd have an ecstatic fit and pass out dramatically, like when Kelly in 90210 OD'ed on speed in the bathroom of the Peach Pit. That happened, right? I'm beginning to wonder if anyone knows what happened. Also; sometimes people write me really amazing emails or facebook messages and I don't write back 'cause I don't know what to say, but I really do apprecaite them, they make me happy. Have I said this before? Probably, as I said I don't really know what happened until now, and now isn't that hard to get a grip on; I'm in Alex's brother's room in Long Island, and there is a giant cardboard cut-out of Johnny Depp in a pirate outfit to my left and a Chicago Bulls decal of some kind at eye level. Maybe I'll write a poem about it one day.

I'm having a lot of anxiety about the election right now, I feel like it's 1998 and I'm waiting to hear back from my Early Decision application. Like is it November yet? I feel like anyone who's on the fence -- after this week, if they're still leaning towards McCain/Palin I don't know what it'd take to change their mind. I mean seriously. I think we need to make "Really Sarah Palin? Really?" t-shirts. Do I even know anyone who's voting for McCain? Please let me know so I can try to change your mind.

I know probs most of you will know what I'm talking about re: Kelly but not know why I'm still talking about David Foster Wallace but I am, 'cause he died, and so I read this tribute on McSweeny's where someone was saying that DFW by his own criteria would've been a success 'cause: "A good writer makes the reader feel less lonely. A good writer makes the reader believe in her own feelings—he assures her (through fiction, no less) that whatever it is she's feeling is True, and not a psychic symptom of being alone." I like that. I want to be like that one day. I miss writing fiction. Maybe I should write a novel and say it's a metaphor of a memoir. I dunno, just an idea.
quote: "Shakespeare describes memory as the warder of the brain, but it is also its courtesan. We all remember the parts of the past that allow us to meet the future. The prototypes of the lie -- white, grievous, practical -- make themselves known when memory is called to answer. Memory usually answers back with bullshit. Everyone likes a good story, especially the one who is telling it, and the historical facts are generally sullied in the process." (David Carr, The Night of the Gun)

links:
1. 50 Amazing Gig Posters Sure to Inspire (@well medicated)
2. Crystal, you must return to America for this one -- American Psycho, the Musical (@ny post pop wrap) and American Psyco heads to the stage (@variety)
3. My Gal (Sarah Palin, obvs) by George Saunders (thanks to green for this one) (@the new yorker)
4. A brief history of Clay Aiken's squirlishness/flat-out lying and thoughtful analysis of his coming out: The Truth Has Outed (@fourfour)
5. David Foster Wallace's Syallabus for a Spring '05 Literary Interpretation Class. Policies include - "Even in a seminar course, it seems a little silly to require participation. Some students [are] cripplingly shy ... on the other hand .. our class can't really function if there isn't student participation -- it will become just me giving a half-assed ad lib lecture for 90 minutes, which (trust me) will be horrible in all kinds of ways." Many footnotes. Required texts include Silence of the Lambs. (@à la sophia)
5a. McSweeny's is running Memories and Tributes of David Foster Wallace (@mcsweenys):
"Among the million other things he did, David Foster Wallace picked out details that were absurd, unlikely, hilarious, and yet, somehow, completely familiar. It was one of his ways of reminding us we are not alone, that we are all in this mess together. It made his stories reassuring and tender and heartbreaking, and it made reading them seem like listening to a friend."
6. The Audacity of Hip-Hop: "Far from being politically alienated and bling-obsessed, the rap generation may be just months away from occupying the White House." Includes video interviews with Redman, Russell Simmons, De La Soul, Rakim, among others. (@newsweek)
7. John Stewart & Steven Colbert - Exclusive Q&A on the 2008 Presidential Elections (@entertainment weekly)
8. MSNBC's Rachel Maddow is "a fresh female face amid cable schoolboys" but is "less a show than an annex ... like Countdown with Keith Olberman" for viewers who are down on Keith Oblerman." (@ny times)
9. Obviously I don't know anything about anything 'cause I don't get what's so amazing about that Spitzer cover, or any New Yorker cover, like, ever. Where's Flaunt or The Virgina Quarterly Review on this list of the nominees for Best Magazine Cover of the year? (@asme)
10. To get to the bottom of this quandry: "The difference between gold-digging and dating someone who just happens to make more money than you — and who pays for your lifestyle — is subtle," the writer actually interviewed other couples on how they handle their income disparity, and it's quite interesting: Am I a Gold-Digger? I asked some friends their opinions. (@nerve.com)
11. I've been wondering this too ever since seeing him on The View: Why Bill Clinton is such a lousy surrogate (@slate.com)
12. How Journalists Write (@the guardian uk)
13. Who's gayer, Peppermint Patty or Velma? (@afterellen)
14. If Spike Lee ran Hollywood (@salon.com)
15. Stef told me to watch this and so I did: The Gits ... From 1986 - 1993, The Gits developed an impressive reputation in the Seattle punk scene, only to have its progress halted by the senseless rape & murder of its vocalist, Mia Zapata. This Documentary, directed by Kerri O'Kane chronicles their growth, Mia's murder, and the conviction of her killer. (@pitchfork)
16. OMG!: Susan Powter Needs to Take Her Own Advice: "Remember that crazybird infomercial queen with the giant clothing, grand gestures, peroxide buzz cut and booming baritone? ... she's acquired knowledge of how to use the Internet, which has yielded a virtual warehouse of nonsensical video blogs (or "blog-a-logs," as she...jokes?) in which, for example, Susan goes to town on an organic jasmine popsicle, advertising it as if it were the cure for cancer." (@urlesque)

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Tuesday, September 16, 2008

Tuesday Top Ten: All About Your Mother

[hello! It's me in the brackets! I was writing something kinda heavy for the Sunday Top Ten but then it got so heavy that it crushed me. Luckily, inspiration struck once again like a light object (e.g., a koosh ball, Tinkerbell) upon my braincase and here I am on Tuesday w/the Sunday Top Ten. In other words: The Tuesday Top Ten! ("holler alliteration!" - carlytron)]

Though I haven't lived with my own mother since 1997 [Because my Mother's become a more sensitive fact checker than my ex at the height of psychosis, I should add: "because I chose to leave, not because my mother didn't have a home for me to live in between those years of 1997-2002, complete with three full bathrooms, cable & internet, etc. and, although my mother moved out of that house in 2002, she still took me in at her tenement - esque one-bedroom for 24 hours in June '03 when my boyfriend dumped me and I needed to cry in an environment free of Kappa Kappa Gammas. Furthermore, during said hibernation, my mother even gave me $50 to go to the mall for "retail therapy," where I bought a cute pair of Mavi jeans I wore to my ex-boyfriend's apartment that afternoon to tell him I was moving to NYC for the summer, a plan he rejected in favor of his apparent summer plan to run over/play with my heart a few more times before school started back up. Furthermore, despite the menagerie of animals and children living in my Moms' current house, she is always very kind about wanting me to stay there and insists that I feel that I have a home somewhere, even though my stuff is in storage and during the winter holidays of '07 I was kicked out of said house by my mother and sent to a motel.], I've spent many a night with the mothers of others.

In addition to my uncanny ability to date people who under some circumstance or another are living with their mothers or other parental guardians, I'm currently living with Semicolon's mother, and the first week of September I lived with the random mother & children that Natalie is randomly living with (not her mother, obvs, her mother lives in Cleveland Ohio, land of champions). AND! I just snagged an October sublet with Hav's mother! Then! in November the sky's the limit you guys. Good news, November is my favorite month, it's the month that my brother and I try to remember which day my Mom's birthday is and decide who's gonna call first to find out.

Since I'm on such a roll with mothers, I got to thinking about ...

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Sunday Top Ten: Other Mothers I'd Like to Live With
10. Beverly Crusher, Star Trek: The Next Generation
I love Beverly not only 'cause I had a boi-crush on Wesley Crusher, Beverly's son (who looks like he could've easily made it to the final round of Brandon Teena auditions), but 'cause she's wicked smart and for vaycay would clearly take me to strange new worlds, seeking new life and and new civilizations and boldly go where no man had gone before. Her husband is dead but clearly I'm used to that, and besides she has Captain Picard as the resident surrogate father, I could live with that.



9. Lindsay Bluth Funke, Arrested Development

The only element I ever disliked about Arrested Development was the Lindsay-Tobias marriage -- I don't think they did a good job of selling that to the viewer. Regardless, Lindsay's smokin' hot, loves charity, and accidentally makes jokes all the time. Keep in mind this is mothers I'd want to live with, not mothers I'd want to be mothered by. Not that I wouldn't want her genes, but you know, it'd be skeeze to crush on my Mom, and it'd be really skeeze to have Haviland crush on my Mom.


8. Me & my Gay in H.S. - he had the best Mom ever, Christie!

Christie was my first boyfriend's Mom. Of course Ryan wasn't my actual boyfriend, he was my gay BFF with benefits, but Moms love gay boyfriend's girlfriends the MOST, 'cause not only am I the potentially-cute-if-she-did-her-hair super-fun smart girlfriend but I'm also their son's ticket to hetero-ville. Alas, conversion didn't stick, but let me tell you how I met Christie for the first time: Valentine's Day '98, a man in a trenchcoat shows up at my boarding school dorm to 'escort' me to a mysterious location -- Ryan's parents' motor-home, it turns out. The driver turned out to be Ryan's step-dad, and just as I entered the lux motorhome, Christie burst out from the bedroom in a french maid's outfit with champagne. She kept character for about three minutes before busting into, "Oh my god, I'm so glad to meet you!"

They had a ranch in Oklahoma with hills and rivers. She'd mail me newspaper clippings, beanie babies, cards, little gifts she'd just "thought of me" when she saw. She looked like Sally Field. It was so easy, winning her love, she liked me straight away. It's never been that easy since to snag parental affections. Maybe it's cause I was 16 and right on track, and now I'm a homeless delinquent with a weird blog.


7. Peggy Peabody, The L Word
She's a crap Mom, but she's got the best lines on The L Word , did pay (unknowingly) for the entire De La Pica Morales clan to go to Canada for The Little Wedding that Couldn't, and is therefore my favorite character, besides obviously Papi, my favorite character of all time who unfortunately is not getting her own spin-off.

If Papi had a kid, what would they name it? Nino? Papi Jr.? Mini-Papi? Chi-Chi Rodriguez?


6. Michelle Obama
I'm gonna do this thing where I not-so-subtly work Obama into every post until he wins in November. If he doesn't win, I want you to know I am going to quit all of you. I'm going to set the building on fire that's my cake. I'm going to take down all my posts like I do when I have a lot of feelings, post only song lyrics on twitter, and lie on my mattress in a street alley chanting "Dark Come Soon" to myself while eating the black polish off my fingers. Intervention won't be able to TOUCH me!

No but really, she seems like a sweet Mom. I'm not sure why everyone's freaking out about her ability to parent and campaign. If the Republicans had their way, women on welfare would all be working 60 hours a week and leaving their kids at home to eat fruit roll-ups and shoot each other. That's no good. The Obamas have it together, they match, and she's a beautiful, beautiful woman.

YES WE CAN! Vote!

5. Marge Simpson, The Simpsons
I feel like this woman put up with some serious shit. Also her children never age, which is cheaper than the Oil of Olay my Mom uses.

4. Kelli and Rosie O'Donnell
It's not the multiple homes that draw me in -- it's the arts & crafts hut. They're the most famous gay Moms ever, staunch democrats, philanthropic wonderwomen and genuinely caring & loving people. Rosie'd make jokes, teach me collaging and sing showtunes with me. Kelli's hot & capable and my siblings would be remarkably down-to-earth smart cookies who, much like me as a child, aren't allowed to watch the teevee. They're homos too, like my Mom, so it'd be basically like living with my Mom except with more trips to Miami and less yelling. Then I could go on the cruise for free and get free soda.


3. Kanga
What if my Mom's name was "Ma" and my name was "Rie" and she carried me around in a fanny pack, like the turquoise one she used in the 90's'/probs yesterday? Then we'd be one-tenth of the way towards the coolness of Kanga, who had a kid named Roo she carried around in her pouch. I had a kangaroo stuffed animal with a Roo (a non-brand name version of the Pooh-Corner pair) and I got really upset when they'd be separated. We could live in the woods and eat coconuts and play with koalas and boomerangs, and I'd never have to pay rent or use craigslist again.

2. Lorrie Moore, author

""The Mother does not know how to be one of these other mothers, with their blond hair and sweatpants and sneakers and determined pleasentness. She does not think that she can be anything similar. She does not feel remotely like them. She knows, for instance, too many people in Greenwich Village. She mail-orders oysters and tiramusu from a shop in SoHo. She is close friends with four actual homosexuals. Her husband is asking her to Take Notes. Where do these women get their sweatpants? She will find out."
(Lorrie Moore, "People Like That Are the Only People Here.")

I'm not into "Mom Lit," or Mom-Bloggers, or really any books about mother-daughter relationships. This's probs 'cause most mother-child focussed movies end with someone dying and lots of sentimental speeches that make me barf, or 'cause good mothers don't make very interesting protagonists, but ultimately the only time I can stand reading someone talk about child-rearing is when they approach it with the barenaked humility and admitted incompetence that Lorrie Moore does when she talks about motherhood. (Tama Janowitz fairs admirably in this area, too) In her novel Anagrams [SPOILER ALERT], we eventually discover that the protagonist's child isn't even real! She's an imaginary daughter! basically I feel Lorrie Moore knows how to mother 'cause she doesn't know how to mother, and I'd like to be a part of that. Or maybe I just want to move to Wisconsin, 'cause getting fat in Long Island isn't as accepted as getting fat in Wisconsin.


1. Susan Powter
Alex: "I miss Susan Powter yoga."
Me: "We only went once, Alex."
Alex: "But I miss it."
Me: "How can you miss something we only went to once? That's like saying I miss my Bat Mitzvah."
Alex: "Can't I miss it if I want to?"
Me: "I think you're projecting your real sadness over missing the cruise and the team onto Susan Powter's yoga class."
Alex: [makes pouty face]

[this is the level of conversation we've come to during these weeks of forced co-habitation.]

I just feel like if I lived with Susan Powter, I'd probs get killer abs. Plus I'd want her to say "Tell Riese I'm looking for her. In heels."

Friday, July 18, 2008

We MUST!: Rosie Cruise '08 Part #1 With Vlog, Words, Photos, and a Snack

So, I'm on the Rosie Cruise right now and when it's over I’m moving to Halifax, Nova Scotia. Halifax is packed with bookstores (including a feminist/queer store called "Venus Envy") and therefore reminds me of Ann Arbor before The Man/A-E-Phi took over. Coincidentally, Halifax is Ellen Page’s hometown (“I LOVE Ellen Page. I want to EAT HER FACE!” – Riese, Jan. '08), though we didn’t spot her during our Self-Guided Shore Excursion on Wednesday -- I think Ellen’s career is peaking right now so she’s probs making an edgy film in L.A or New York or one of those other big show-bizzy cities filled with annoying people who’ve got bogus body parts and drink sugar-free syrup/eat babies for breakfast. I live in New York City, but trust me if my neighbors had fake body parts, they’d look a lot better than they do, I’ve seen better waist-to-hip ratios on a fried chicken. JK, I love all people and actually loathe fried chicken, so there you go.

Also my keyboard feels like it’s on fire, it must be all the gay magic. Or it could be the boat, which is presently rocking back and forth, making me feel crazy/nauseous. Maybe it’s my hands. Maybe I have magic hands! I have magic hands! I like chips!

Hello o-pirates! Look, I've got a multimedia Friday for ya. I'll go into details -- e.g., extremely compelling details about Our Grand Vaycay -- when I return to the asphalted treachery of my regular life. I'm sure I'll have a lot of feelings and consequentially a book club, poetry, auto-fun, advice column vlog installments, late-night confessionals, streams of consciousness, top tens and totes random weirdohood.

For now ... firstly, a VIDEO of Haviland & I & Layla Love and a vlog in our room and all kinds of things well okay I made this movie for y'all this afternoon. Caitlin is becoming quite the cameraperson, p.s..:

*

"Leaving New York -- never easy -- I saw the light fading out."
-R.E.M.
*
“I wish we were on the boat right now,” Haviland is liable to moan on any of the 358 days of the year she’s not on it. After the boat, there is only “boat” and “not boat.”
*

*
Boat: At 6 A.M. we’re on yoga mats at the fitness center waiting for Susan Powter to yell at us, to tell Caitlin “If I was that tall, I’d be illegal!” and to tell the fitness center employee “I like you, but I don’t like your penis” and to tell all of us that we’re sexy/beautiful/the future. How long will we wait?

Me: “We will wait until she comes. We must be patient, like the Jews at Mt. Sianai. They waited, and then Moses came down with the Ten Commandments."
Fellow Disciple: "Not everyone waited. There was the golden calf--"
Me: "Exactly. Thou shalt not worship false idols, and we will wait for Susan."

And we did. And it was worth it. And I can barely walk today, neither can Alex, we feel like our hamstrings have been through a tractor pull.

I'm listening to Tegan & Sara, I started jonesing. This is strange: here, now. Relatively alone at the computer in the internet cafe, paying for it, and so on, alone with my music and the words. It's the writing that makes me crazy, though I couldn't have it any other way. I'm not just saying this 'cause I'm reading Orlando.

Tuesday night I dreamt that the ninth plague was miniature cats dropping from our ceiling.

Susan's commandments are strict/sexy/beautiful/the future. She gets crazier every year. More on this later. Caitlin's written down some of her commandments and we will be gathering these, grasshoppers, and then we will bless you with them.


Modeling Through it in Halifax - 1
*

Album Cover (Title: "Modeling Through It")
*
Boat: I never return to anything. It’s a minor miracle I’ve spent over a year in my present apartment, and summer camp’s cliques and obsessive heterosexuality and insider-y gossip never worked for me so I never returned. Next year, a new camp, and then another, and another. But this’s my third fucking cruise. MY THIRD “CRUISE.” Aren’t I too cynical for all this? No, of course not. There’s water underneath and around us. No-one cares what you’re wearing or who you’re kissing and we’re too cut off to feasibly work while on board. So that's a few reasons why it's magic.

Boat: The entertainment’s appeal is never what I’d anticipated – in ’06, Cyndi Lauper and Kathi Griffin were – just as I expected – amazing. But I didn’t know Broadway Belters would be like a highlight reel of the last twenty years of Tony-award winning performances or that Hav & Brandi Massey doing Defying Gravity would almost bring me to tears, or that Elvira Kurt would be so fucking funny. Last year Sandra Bernhard wasn’t spectacular and we left Erasure early, but we made our own entertainment (“Living it Out” reading) and under certain circumstances, I found beaches and sunshine not only tolerable but lovely.

This year it's Julie Goldman. Literally the best/funniest stand-up I've seen all my life.

Boat:We decided to have a rolling race down a hill in Halifax (a.k.a. my future home), but halfway down I started feeling itchy and everyone thought I was kidding when I said I think I've developed an allergy to grass (I tend to exaggerate a lot) but whatevs. Anyhow, we made a lot of memories. And because we're all here, and I'd like to foster a spirit of togetherness and sisterhood under the light of the moon of the glow of all my sisters and brothers all over the world, I'm going to share them with you.


*

*

Caitlin keeps on rolling.
*

This is when I gave up and ran down the hill.
*

Caitlin and Alex - still rolling after all these years
*
Sooooo ... 'cause I want book club to be really good, and 'cause I owe y'all a "Stuff I've Been Reading" like WHOA, I'm gonna hold off on that discussion 'til I reach the shore. I'd tell you when that is, except I've got no idea what day it is and I'm in denial about any semblance of a life outside of here.

I've gotta get back to the room before Alex falls asleep, therefore lessening the chances I'll talk her into a grilled cheese.

Saturday, October 20, 2007

Whoever Creates a New Word For VLOG is the Automatic Winner. [JK]

OMG. I just realised we forgot to say "JK" in the vlog [waa], I guess it'll be super organic next time though, you know?

This one's longer. We made it for Lozo, but mainly for ourselves. Perhaps you've noticed: it's speedier for me to write 10,000 nonsense words than it is to bang out 1,000 brill words. It's also speedier to type "brill" rather than "brilliant," and it's all about the bottom line. The word "vlog," p.s., makes me feel like Slimer, it's super-gross.

For this week's vlog, Haviland and I tackle all your questions--not every answer's in the final cut, but don't blame yourself, it's totes us, not always on point, and also, apparently, I kept pronouncing Joe Torre wrong.

Some of the topics covered include Paris Hilton's fantastic album, Susan Powter's voicemail, Thanksgiving, how depressed Riese is that everybody in New York is too skinny for her to fall in love with, the war in Iraq, and how to make Haviland look naked. There's a lot of subtext, too. Very complex. "Meta" as the hipsters with the bangs in their eyes are saying. Ironically. While having their falafel in that shop by the L station after the nerve/onion cocktail mixer. I say cocktails ironically, p.s.

It's Friday night. If we were cool, we'd be out somewhere. I don't know. Wherever the kids are going these days. To eat falafel. No, we're cool. We also went to Ikea today. It felt like Sweden, but with more furniture and less people.

Sunday, December 10, 2006

Sunday Top 10, Times Two: BEST. QUOTES. EVER. I. MEAN. OF. 2006.

Remember earlier this year when some intrepid detectives discovered that Kaavya Viswanathan's debut novel included copied passages from The Megan McCafferty Cannon (e.g., her seminal classic Sloppy Firsts) and then Kaavya was in big trouble with Little Brown and also she was totally embarrassed and she said that it must have just been subconscious, like, because she read McCafferty all the time and had a super-good memory? I believed her for about five seconds, which is more than most people, 'cause sometimes I feel my obsession with collecting and sharing other peoples' words could easily be taking over my brain and could eek out subconsciously, which as far as I can tell is the worst kind of way for something to happen. Because "consciously" is like, on purpose.

I'm semi-obsessed with quotes. That sounds like nothing, like saying "I'm semi-obsessed with eating." Really? You are? Amazing. (My website, p.s., is quote-heaven) You are so unique and such a special snowflake. Speaking of special snowflakes ... name that movie ...

It's the end of the year, which for those of us in the Top Ten business, is much like the first day of deer-hunting season or like, whenever the wheat gets harvested or whatever it is that people do out there in the heartland. It's 4 AM. I'm losing it.

TOP TEN QUOTES OF 2006, FROM MY FRIENDS AND OTHER FAMOUS PEOPLE OR FICTIONAL CHARACTERS (THE OUT-LOUD SPOKEN KIND)

Obvs this is impossible, because a year has 12 months in it and that's a long time. So I'm dividing this into spoken quotes and written quotes. Written includes: text messages, books, newspapers, street signs, AIMs, e-mails, telegrams (not singing telegrams), words written in clouds by those jets that fly over football games, messages in bottles, letters, magazine articles, tattoos, blog posts, confessional type love notes (I get a lot of those), etc.

Written quotes coming next week. So you know, hold your goddamn horses.
Spoken quotes follow.

10. FOOD GLORIOUS FOOD

Lo: I can't decide if I should eat Oreos and milk right now or cottage cheese and peaches.
Me: I guess that depends on if you feel 12 or 85.

Cameron:
I was walking around outside in this heat for like, an hour this morning when I wanted pizza. You have no idea how hard it is to find a piece of pizza in this city before 10:30AM.

On "The View" in July,
Barbara Walters:
And how have you managed to stay so thin?
Debbie Matenopolus: I don't eat, Barbara.

In the locker room at New York Sports Club,
Krista:
I gained a lot of weight this summer, so I'm trying to lose it in two weeks by going to yoga every day.
(takes a bite out of the muffin she's been eating while dressing for yoga)
Want some muffin? This is my third pastry so far today. Are we getting lunch?

Matty (to me): Maybe when you move to Brooklyn, I'll just play in traffic all day. Or get a dog.
Krista: Can the dog cook, Matty?


9. CRUSHING

In a discussion about facial hair during a query meeting:
Marie: Oh no, I don't like mustaches on men. I like my men so clean-shaven that they almost look gay. Except Tom Selleck, he is the only man I can think of who pulls of a 'stache. I'd totally do Tom Selleck.
Don: Whoah, you like Tom Selleck? Is someone writing this down? I need to record this moment. (gets pen, starts writing it down) Marie, August 8th: "I would totally do Tom Selleck."

From Krista's friend, Erin, who stayed with us in East Harlem one weekend:
"Um, so, you told me about Marie's crazy friend Matty from across the street, but you failed to mention that he is an ICELANDIC GOD."

The setup: Haviland and I, still hot to trot from the White Party, are getting out of a cab at my apartment.
Heckler: "Hey Ladies!"
(I dash across the street in 4 inch gold heels, drunk off my ass, while dodging traffic and Haviland fears for my life while waiting patiently for the light to change)
Heckler (to Hav): "You need to tell your friend she doesn't need to run FROM the black man...she needs to run TO the black man!"

8.MAYBE YOU'RE CRAZY, MAYBE I'M CRAZY, MAYBE WE'RE CRAZY

Marie: Remember when I made the password on your computer "Michigan" so you'd remember where I was from?
Matty: Yeah, but then I fucking stabbed that computer with a really big knife.

Hav: I wonder if my therapist is writing in her notes; 'Haviland hasn't worn any makeup for two days. Appears to be in a downward spiral towards total dishevelment.'

Steph: I've been drinking this tea that's supposed to burn extra calories.
Me: Yeah, maybe if like, you drink that tea every single day five times you can burn off a slice of bread in a year.
(pause)
Me: Okay, obviously we are all sitting here calculating exactly how many calories you can burn from the tea and then how many are in a slice of bread--
Lainy: Oh that's easy--
Steph: like 90--
Lainy: mine is like 80--
Steph: if you get the grainy healthy whole wheat bread, that's like--
Me: 120--
Steph: but you can get 80 or 70 with normal bread, yeah--
Me: or 60, for the like--
Lainy: "light" bread but the slices are so small--
Steph: yeah, they are so small--
Me: but yeah, the carb-free sugar-free, everything-free mini loaves are like, 60--
Lainy: probably 80 or 90 is normal--
Me:or like--average--


8. MAKING IT WORK

From "The Little Dog Laughed" (Mitchell is an actor, Diane is his agent)
Mitchell: Diane, just relax. Go back to your room, I'm with a friend.
Diane: Friend? Come now, Mitchell--you're just having another one of your little adventures.
Mitchell: I don't have adventures.
Diane: Please. You're like Huckleberry Finn on a raft made out of rent boy.
Mitchell: What makes you think he's a rent boy?
Diane: You're sleeping with him.

Stephen: Yeah, you know, basically, I put an offer on the table. I said, [redacted], what we're looking at here is a very handsome signing bonus. We're talking no commitment, no guarantees on my end, as in--you'll be agreeing to work exclusively with me, but I am free to take on other clients as the need arises. And um, yeah, she wouldn't take the offer. I put it on the table--and she rejected it. So yeah, uh, [redacted] and I broke up.

From "Workout,"
Jackie Warner, talking about her girlfriend:

“She bites me when she loves me, and she bites me when she's mad.”

7. EL L


Me: Why are all the L train service advisory signs at this station only in Spanish?
Lo: I guess it affects an area of Brooklyn so far away that the only people who live there speak Spanish?

From OverHeard in New York:
"I went to Boston this weekend. Mostly to avoid the L train."


6. YOU ARE THE YOUNG ONES (all quotes from Susan Powter from the RFamily Cruise that Haviland and I went on in July and perhaps, more than anything, the quote of the year ought to be: "Can we get back on the boat yet?" "Why aren't we on the boat?")


"You need to cut out refined white sugar, refined white flour, refined white men and the refined White House."

"I don't care about your issues, I don't care about your trauma, every woman in this room has been traumatized and if you haven't than you're BLIND!"

"I'm your worst nightmare. I was born with a very good brain and a very nice ass."

"Do not have a Bloody Mary at 11 o'clock in the morning. Have some GRANOLA."

"When you get kicked out of the Vatacin at 10, you're on an express train to hell."



"I am the most immature, hate-filled person you will ever meet and also the most honest."

"The nice thing about my job is that i can just roll out of bed .....and then apply massive amounts of makeup. I mean, just massive. When they mistress the art of tattooing make-up, I'll be the first in line."


5. LET'S GET IT ON

Mary:
"I just need a girl who will see me in a little mini skirt and then tear me limb from limb!"

Lo:
"Somehow, every time Marie wears those cowboy boots they end up on the floor in my room."

Krista:
"Marie, if I had your standards of attractiveness for boys, I would've never gotten laid."

Me: You missed meeting Haviland last night by like, three minutes.
Stephen:Oh yeah? What was she wearing?
Me:A very short skirt.
Stephen: So, how do you girls feel about making out in public?
Me: Stephen, I'm not sure where you're trying to take this conversation.


4. SIN IS IN

Marie: Shh...I have roommates!
Steph: I don't care, I'll fuck 'em both! I'll fuck em both with a STRAP ON!

MM: "Maybe I should just like, fly somewhere in a different time zone, where it's night-time, and I can start drinking there and then come back here in time for night?"

From the movie "Short Bus.":
Justin Bond: These people spend all night sucking cock and eating ass, and then hit the buffet claiming they're vegan.

Haviland, in Alaska, after taking a motion sickness pill:
It's just like, everything is so bright! Like it hurts to look at things!


3. U.S.A. USA! USA! U.SSS. AAAA!

Stephen Colbert, White House Correspondents Diner:
"The greatest thing about this man is he's steady. You know where he stands. He believes the same thing Wednesday that he believed on Monday, no matter what happened Tuesday. Events can change; this man's beliefs never will."

Bette Porter on "The L Word," at a court hearing, in response to accusations that the NEA's decision to refuse her gallery's grant is justified because the art is "un-American Filth."
"Un-American. Not as un-American as what you just did. You oughtta be ashamed of yourself. You know what you are? You're just the latest reigning vigilante self-appointed culture watchdogs of the moment. Devoting countless hours and enviable resources to this bogus mission of stifling creative expression in the name of patriotism. And you know what it is, Senator? It's a distraction. It is a wanton distraction. Because let's just be forthright and honest about what is truly unpatriotic. Abject poverty is unpatriotic. The failure of our education system is unpatriotic. Lies told by presidents as justification for war is unpatriotic. It is unpatriotic that elected lawmakers fail to acknowledge, let alone address, real desperation."

From the First Episode of "Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip"
"This show used to be cutting edge satire but it's gotten lobotomized by a candy-ass broadcast network hell-bent on doing nothing that might challenge their audience......Yes there's a struggle between art and commerce. Well there's always been a struggle between art and commerce, but now I'm telling you art is getting its ass kicked, and it's making us mean, and it's making us bitchy, and it's making us cheap punks and that's not who we are. People are having contest to see how much they can be like Donald Trump...... We're eating worms for money, "Who Wants To Screw My Sister", guys are getting killed in a war that's got theme music and a logo. That remote in your hand is a crack pipe."


2. I FEEL PRETTY AND WITTY AND GAYYYY!
Kathi Griffin, on her cell-phone, to the talent coordinator on the gay cruise, while walking with Hav and I:
"Can you tell him I want room temperature Evian and Diet Coke on ice? And some cocaine for Jessica, pre-cut lines if possible. And is someone going to escort me to the theater? I'd like if you could find a gay to come to my dressing room please so I don't get lost. Can I get a lesbian to take me? I'd feel better if it was a lesbian."

Kathi Griffin, to Hav and I, who were also lost in the ship looking for the line to get off the boat and see Alaska.
"Are you a gay? Or a child of a gay? I need a gay to help me get off this boat."

Random Girl at White Party, to Us:
"You and your friends are hot! I think all lesbians should look like us, but instead they all look like John Goodman!"

Rosie O'Donnell, on The View:
"The lesbian haircut didn't help. Oh--the haircut. The vein of my existence! You know, I didn't think it was that bad, but recently someone showed me some photos and ok, I agree, it was an error of epic proportions. The haircut was a mistake on many levels."

My Shrink:Do you think you'd ever tell your father's family that you're bisexual?
Me: I think Marie Claire is gonna do that for me.


1. TAKE ME OUTTTT TONIGHT!

After the "Complacent Danger" party or whatever it was called:
Lo
: I think from here on out, we can figure that the quality of the invitation is directly disproportionate to the quality of the party itself.
Me: Yeah, I guess guys who are good enough with computers to design such a kickass website and invitation aren't necessarily who we want to party with.

Me: We should create our own club in the city, for like, really hot lesbians, but make every night costume night. But not like The White Party--
Haviland: Yeah, and it's like, we won't just let anyone in, you have to be in costume to come in. You can't get in if you aren't in costume.
Me: Yeah, and like, look, I'm sorry but I've had it with your gay best friend, okay? He can't come.
Haviland: Unless he's in costume.
Me: Unless he's in costume as a girl in costume.
Haviland: Yeah, totally, we don't discriminate against drag queens.
Me: We encourage them.
Haviland: And Da Lypstyxx can obviously come.
Me: Obviously.

Sunday, October 01, 2006

Yom Kippur Top 10: On Sunday I Made Amends of All of My Mistakes

I had a fairly solid blog-post-plan for tonight until I noticed the Jews everywhere and then I remembered that Yom Kippur starts tonight and then I remembered that I am Jewish and then I thought, well, my friends like being in my blog, so I bet God would like it too! So I decided to kill two birds with one stone (JK! No killing, God, don't worry! I know thou shalt not kill, etc.) and do my Top Ten about Repentance.

TOP TEN THINGS I WOULD LIKE TO REPENT FOR

Conveniently enough, The Ten Commandments has the same amount of items on it as a Top Ten List. So I just figured I'd go through those and, you know, repent or whatever for the commandments that I broke.

10. You Shall Have No Other G-ds Before Me.Um, I know that Susan Powter might come off as being a little bit abrasive, but I really think that you and her could work together, which would make her not necessarily "before" you, but "with" you. You know?

9. You Shall not make wrongful use of the name of the Lord your G-d
Unfortunately, on this blog alone, which really only accounts for about .005% of my discourse, I've used 'Goddamn' in 11 posts, "Oh My God" in 3 posts, "Omigod" in 2 posts, and perhaps the greatest sin of all: "OMG" in six posts. Whoops!

8. Remember the Sabbath, and keep it holy...
Yeah. If by "holy" you mean "drunk," "asleep," or "hanging out with Haviland," or, perhaps "taking a lot of drugs and cleaning the apartment" (as I often did in East Harlem), then I'm Holier than the Holy-Land. But I don't think that's what he meant.

7. Honor your father and your mother.
OK, this is kinda loaded. Obvs I honor my father, he is no longer with us, and so I honor him every single moment of my life, except when I am doing bad things (see "8"), although, actually, my Dad also liked drinking, and probably would have also enjoyed hanging out with Haviland, so go back to "honor him every single moment of my life." As for my Mum...I was a bit cranky in NOLA when I was cold and didn't have shoes (sorry!) ... but I actually remembered her birthday this year HOLLA!!

6. You Shall Not Make For Yourself an Idol
Hey, do you remember Captain Planet? That show was AWESOME.

5. You Shall Not Murder
I'm like, more or less, a total angel.

4. You Shall Not Commit Adultery
Side bonus to "not doing relationships" this year: totally exempt from extra opps to sin.

3. You Shall Not Steal
I take towels from New York Sports Club. And I've been using someone else's conditioner all week. And I've sometimes taken a little buffet from my Mom's medicine cabinet just to see what's going on in the world of medicine. (Lewis does it too!) Actually, I ended up giving the Xanax to someone who needed it (after having it for about a year, I realized there was not a moment EVER when I wished for less stress, because I think stress is what drives the monkeys to SUCCEED!), which is TZEDAKAH!

2. You Shall Not Covet Your Neighbor's Wife
We don't even have neighbors, but I know what he/she means, and therefore I'd like to ask the following people for their forgiveness: Kevin Federline.

1. You Shall Not Covet Your Neighbor's House
I live in New York City. I expect to be coveting my neighbor's house until I:
a) move to a J-or-G-only accessible neighborhood where I'm surrounded by other houses that are just as crap as my own.
b) become one of those crazy spiritual people who don't feel cold and can stand in the same position all day, like the Falun Dafa guy in the Diag at U-Mich, but like, in New York.
c) go blind
d) go crazy one day in Rite-Aid and light the world on fire so that there are no houses anymore
e) find inner peace
f) move into this fabulous building, which just-so-happens to be right 'round the corner at 455 Central Park West (yup, that would be my neighbor, Mr. Rogers):

Okay! Amen, etc.

Thursday, July 13, 2006

Rosie Cruise 2006: I Will Remember You, Will You Remember Me?



At last, all the Rosie Family Cruise 2006 pics/re-cap is all up on my side-dish blog, "More Potato Products," which can be located at PleaseSirIWantSomeMore.

Note: It's super long. And kinda boring unless you are super-bored, love me like, a whole lot, like more than I loved The Crying of Lot 49 (which I hated, but this is shorter than that and I still read that muthafucka), and/or if you were on the cruise with me, and/or if you are my stalker or if you gave birth to me or were birthed by the same woman who gave birth to me or related to her in some way.

Friday, July 07, 2006

From the Rosie Cruise: I Believe that Children are the Future

I have no desire whatsoever to go home.

Aside from the overpriced drinks and a shocking lack of Polly-O string cheese and the fact that we can't seem to track down any psychedelic drugs, I could kinda sail like this for probably at least another week.

Seriously: beautiful children. Real love! The Republicans need to come here and see the most multicultural and well-behaved kids on the goddamn planet. Even though I sometimes wish they would put some duct tape over their mouths and get out of the hot tub.

Hav and I are in love with Susan Powter, who kicked our asses in yoga this morning and calls us "THE YOUNG ONES" and says things like "I don't care about your issues, I don't care about your trauma, every woman in this room has been traumatized and if you haven't than you're BLIND!" and "NO MORE refined white sugar, NO MORE refined white flour, ENOUGH refined white men and NO MORE OF THAT refined White House!"

We soak in the hot tub and lie in the sun and look at mountains and pick at kitschy t-shirts in Alaskan gift shops, eat vegetables in the dining hall (it's like that, like college), and hang out with the other performers Hav knows and we try, relentlessly, to get a server to truly bring the dressing on the side. Rosie is hilarious and Kathy Griffin is AWESOME and Cyndi Lauper rocked (and our 80's outfits, of course, ROCKED) and Jill Sobule was so fun and the Broadway singers here are totally breathtaking and we'd like to stalk Melissa Etheridge, but she pretty much wrote the book on stalking, I mean the CD, and we think she's holed up with her preggers wife.

There is so so so much to say, but I want to wait til I get home and internet doesn't cost 75 cents a minute and we can hook up Hav's camera because we have remarkable photographs and I don't have to just take random ones from the website.


In the meantime....

Lets do an FAQ:

q: What are you girls--like, 19?
a: Haviland is 25 and I am 24. We are not, in fact, 19, though we are aware that we still wear the clothing of young vibrant college girls, which is because we are beautiful, really, just gorgeous.

q: Are you like, the child of a gay? Or are you gay?
a: I am the child of a gay and I myself--as Matty once said: "half a fag." But I am here with Haviland, not with my "mommies" and Haviland is not the child of a gay, but she is a gay, and also a star.

q: So are you guys, you know, like, together?
a: Um...uh....we don't um... (stutter, look at each other, laugh, titter, smile)...uh, kinda? we don't really uh...know? Um, friendster might say uh, "it's complicated"? Um, whatever? I mean, open? Sorta not really but kinda?

q: How do you get so skinny?
a: Cocaine, lettuce and long walks on the beach.

q: How tall are you (to me)?
a: 5'10.
Follow-up them: Wow! I always wanted to be tall.
Follow-up me:If you can dream it, then you can do it. I'd like a pony and another drink please thanks.

q: Do you want a drink?
a: Yes, yes I do.
Hav's a: No thanks.
My a: I'll have hers. Honey, get a Corona.

q: Were you singing last night? (to Haviland)
a: Yes.
Follow up: You were wonderful! Just wonderful!

q: Do you know what restaurants are open?
a: How do you feel about petrified cheeseburgers?

q: Are you going on any excursions?
a: As much as an $800 helicopter ride to the glaciers or a salmon bake or a kayaking lesson sounds terrif, I'm facing a truly monumental mini-bar bill and we don't want anything to get in the way of our search for Diet Dr.Pepper.

q: What time is it?
a: There is no time.

Let me leave you with another quote from our favorite woman on earth ("I'm not a doctor, I'm a WITCH!"), Susan Powter:

"I'm your worst nightmare. I was born with a very good brain and a very nice ass."