Sunday Top Ten Things I've Lost That I'd Like Back Please: Still it's Sunday Morning I Miss You the Most

I used to have this map called "Streetwise Manhattan," which I called my 'tourist map,' because I always thought if someone saw me use it in public they might mistake me for a Slow-Walking-Road-Blocking-Bumblefuck (aka a tourist), and so I have this special sneaky way of unfolding it within my bag so it looked like I was digging for chapstick when I was really looking for the closest place to get the V train (P.S: the answer is NOWHERE).

Um, so when my roommate's friend was in town two weeks ago, I decided to spread the joy I receive from this map by lending it to her. I don't think I'm getting it back, and I'm realizing how often I used that freakin' thing. So while I'm wandering through midtown like fuckin' Magellan, I'd like to go over some other things I would like returned to me please.


TOP TEN THINGS I WOULD LIKE BACK, PLEASE.

10. MY ILLINOIS T-SHIRT

It's orange. It was my Dad's. On the back it said "Asset."
Last Seen: Manhattan, July 2000
Suspect: Ryan Clayburn. Admitted once to re-possessing it, avoided all further queries on the topic.

9. BOB MARLEY: LEGEND (CD)
Last seen: In The Bravada, The Little SUV That Could, Summer 2003
Suspect: No Leads. In possession of empty case, however. Hoping to re-coop while some stoned asshole is looking the other way.

8. MY ABILITY TO SLEEP AT NIGHT


Last seen: 1988
Suspect: That freaky dude from the movie Willow. Prior to Willow, I was already a bit edgy because of the 1985 film Return to Oz, which is the scariest movie of all time and has these freaky villans called WHEELERS. I used to have nightmares that Willow/The Wheelers would come into my window and kidnap me.

7.1989 BASKETBALL PROGRAM: MICHIGAN V. IOWA, AUTOGRAPHED BY ALL MEMBERS OF THE NCAA CHAMPIONSHIP MICHIGAN BASKETBALL TEAM

Last seen: 2002
Suspect: My mother, who threw it out with a "big box of magazines" (aka my Leonardo DiCaprio collection) when she moved from our house to a little apartment.

6. MY F*%##'n DRIVERS LICENSE
Last seen: June 26, 2006
Suspect: Hopefully some 17 year old who got really drunk from it.
See my blog entry on the topic.

5. BANANA REPUBLIC FLEECE

Last seen: Spring 2000
Suspect: Unknown. Went missing along with other key items (see Illinois t-shirt) following my move out of 305 Amsterdam, which occurred under duress after Ryan (my BFF and roommate)'s friend Evan tried to kill me with a blowdryer. In August, Evan tried to kill Ryan with a broom. Where's my goddamn fleece, psycho?!
p.s. check out my hot motorcycle helmet in Geneva in that photo! OW!!


4. MY FUCKING TV-DVD COMBO
Last seen: January 2006
Suspect: Matty, who is currently snoring in my bed. I am going to poke him in the ear. I gave it to him when I moved 'cuz he was bored in his apartment all day (I was being altruistic) and then he gave it away when he moved!

3. PAM HOUSTON- "COWBOYS ARE MY WEAKNESS"
On the left you can see the copy that I no longer have, and I describe why it is better than the other two bookcovers. This is the best book ever, but don't judge a book by it's cover, y'all.

Last Seen: Winter 2000, University of Michigan
Suspect: Samara, my First U-Mich Best Friend and fellow hyperhidrosis sufferer. I lent it to her. I've since bought a replacement copy, but I really liked the old-school book cover on that copy and it's impossible to find now. This original cover reminds me of Jamie Delp's copy, and hers was the first one I read, and it changed my life forever, and I want it back.

2. FROSTED FLAKES T-SHIRT
Turquoise t-shirt, once worn by Lewis Bernard as a shirt-dress for sleep (when he was about three feet tall), then worn by Marie as a hipster t-shirt, then re-born as a torn-up sexy gym t-shirt by Nat. Might look better on her.
Last seen: On Natalie Raaber, 2005
Suspect: Natalie Raaber. In fairness; I currently possess two (2) C+C California tank tops and one (1) three-dots shirt that rightfully belong to NAR which I do not intend to return.
p.s. Nat i love you!


1. STEPHEN BARBARA'S LEAD IN THE "HOTTIES IN PUBLISHING" CONTEST

Last seen: 4pm, Thursday August 17th, 2006
Suspect: Douchebags.

It's your last night to find every computer you possibly can and vote for Rambo. As you can see in the photos, it was his 13th birthday last Thursday, so he really deserves this! Also clearly he is a ladies man--look at all of the hot chics at his fiesta!! Vote, assholes: mediabistro's hotties in publishing

In the Flesh Reading Recap: It's Amazing, When the Moment Arrives You Know It'll be Alright

In the Flesh. August 16. 8pm. Happy Endings Lounge.NY, NY.

What do the following people have in common?
1. Axl Rose
2. Steven Tyler
3. Marie Lyn Bernard
4 Joan Jett
5. Mick Jagger

It's pretty obvious. Um, they're all ROCK STARS!


Okay. Since I'm obviously only capable of writing at a fourth-grade-reading level in my blog ... read this instead. Then you will see I'm not kidding about being a rock star. I would talk about myself, but um, I'm much better at making fun of myself. Seriously. Okay, there was this reading and I read a story and I wrote it three days ago but it turned out quite well. The reading series is called "In the Flesh," and if you didn't go to the reading then Santa is giving you COAL this year. COAL. Yup.

Hav and I were hoping to have the cutest outfits there ... but check this out:
What you can't see in that photograph is that she is also wearing fishnets and cute heels. That photo is curteousy of brianvan. I cropped it though. To narrow your focus on the incredible cherry-theme. Look at his photos though. This guy knows what he is doing.

I'd like to also mention that I mentioned cherries in my story. And also it was not in reference to popping cherries. It was different. If you wanna know more about that, you're going to have to--as the Spice Girls would say--"get with my friends."

Some highlights...
(yeah, that's us again. Whee!)

That the cabbie dropped us off about four blocks from the reading, BUT totally right in front of Kristaaa!! Who was lost, per usual. You should see Krista and I lost together. That's a story....

Me: "I'm sorry, what did you say? I was watching Lily run her hands over her fishnets."
Haviland: "Um, yeah!"

Adam from New York Magazine (to Krista, who is leaning on my shoulderblade and crying in joy for my evolution from her "ditsy" suitemate circa 1998 Interlochen Arts Academy to her "ditsy, but in a funny way" friend circa 2006 new york city): Is that your girlfriend?
Krista: No but...
Adam: But you love her.
Krista (crying more, nodding vigoursly): I do!

One of many adoring fans told Haviland "I've seen you at Henrietta's."
Haviland asked when. The girl said a few months ago.
You know what that means ... she is obviously referencing ... SPICE GIRLS NIGHT!!!!! (techincally, it was Cinco De Mayo, but we decided to dress up like the Spice Girls instead, because we are More Fun.)

"I'm sorry, I believe you actually saw Posh Spice?"

But seriously ..... I met/was complimented by/enjoyed listening to so many amazing amazing people; including:
-the news editor of my favorite magazine
-the author of my first-ever "Blog I Read Every Day," Audacia Ray
-RKB herself, who gave me the best blog-post-summary a girl could ever ever dream of...
-the aforementioned Lily Burana, Riain Gray, Sheri Goldhagen, etc.

Most importantly....

I told everyone to vote for Stephen in the grand contest for mediabistro's hotties in publishing and one salacious lady exclaimed "Will he take his clothes off?!" HOT.

Ladies: HE WILL. See my previous blogpost, where I created a cute photo of Stephen-as-Rambo. I'm not sure if that's exactly what he looks like naked, but I imagine it will give you some sort of idea. You know, to like...work from? Or whatever?

That's my agent, Cameron. Me. And HP Stillwell, co-partner in artistic excellence and overall rock stardom.

Thank you, though, really, for everyone who came and supported me. And everyone who came, and everyone who talked to me afterwards even if I was drunk and silly, and RKB for organizing it, and Krista, Cameron, Don, Stephen, Lisa, Jenni, Katy, Anna, Lainy, Emily, and my dear friend Haviland who rocked the fuck out of every character in my little story. And Gillette, because you're the best a man can get.

As um, Gwenyth Paltow might say...mwahhhh brrrr wahhhh!!!!

In the Flesh and Stephen for Hottest Agent: All the Cameras, Come Out, for a Public Affair, All Night, Let's Rock

Outline of Blog Post:
I. Stephen's Blog
a) Early DMLA
b) DMLA now
c) Make fun of Stephen

II. My Reading
a) Delf-deprication
b) Talk about Haviland and make jokes
i. Talk about our costumes
c) Date/time/location/etc

---

So when I started at DMLA in the spring of '05, my primary duties involved sitting in the kitchen with Rachel and Cameron, eating yogurt bowls, making fun of bad query letters and talking about the various dudes that Rachel went on dates with. Then Rachel left for another agency and Stephen Barbara joined our fine team, injecting the office with a big dose of MAN. He even dressed up for work and showed up on time!
Luckily, Stephen also talked about his dates, like how he thought his ex-girlfriend had a better ass than mine, which is dubious. Also he called it a "bedonk-a-donk." And I was wearing my best-ass-framing jeans (the Juicys, for those of you who who are familiar with my collection) that day. I call Stephen "Rambo" because I think it's funny. Stephen just started a blog. This means that he's added blogging to his daily duties, which previously included "checking soccer scores" and "not reading books."

Stephen doesn't need to read books unless they are written by dead Russian guys or his clients, which is pretty much the opposite of my reading habits.

Unfortunately, because I have no reputation to protect, I'll say just about anything on my blog. Or, you know, put a photo of Stephen on Rambo's body, because that makes me laugh. His blog is called 'Rambo the Agent.' Since i came up with that nickname, I'm gonna get most of the roys on his blog including foreign roys and sub-rights for audio film pay-through options or WHATEVER.

---

Tomorrow night, you could:
1. Have sex
2. Go watch people read stories about sex.

I know that "1" sounds better, but sometimes it really isn't, you know?

So there's this reading tomorrow night called In the Flesh, and there'll be some people there reading stories. For ten minutes you will get to see Me read, with my friend, Broadway Star Haviland P. Stillwell, reading dialogue for all the characters except me, the narrator. How will I pack that much fun into ten minutes, you may ask? Well, because I talk very fast, just ask my therapist who has to listen to me pack 24 years of mental trauma and it's impact on 7 days of my traumatic life into our weekly 45 minute sessions. Also Haviland and I will be wearing cute outfits, probably. I even got my nails polished and the color is "wicked," then I smudged most of it by digging for my cellphone in my bag, but whatever. That reminds me of how Rachel would paint my fingernails black when we were supposed to be doing work and Don said 'What is this, a slumber party?' (See that, see how I brought that back around? There's more where that came from, playas!!)

So it's at the Happy Endings Lounge. 302 Broome Street. At 8pm. I have a little plug in my sidebar. Bla bla bladi bla bla.

Also, it's sort of like a "meet the stars" event because a lot of people who I talk about in my blog will be at the reading, e.g., Stephen.

Sunday Top Ten: People I Really Wanna Ziggah Zig AH

Because my whole life is in a state of utter disarray, I can't think of anything "witty" to write today. So, in the spirit of the "In the Flesh" reading on Wednesday that everyone who is reading this right now should be at if they have a soul:

TOP TEN PEOPLE I REALLY WANNA ZIGGAH ZIG AH*
(as in "So tell me what you want, what you really really want, I wanna (huh) I wanna (huh) I really really really wanna zigazig ah," from a poem by the Spice Girls)

10. The entire cast of Dawson's Creek

The N, my favorite network (that's where I learn to talk like a 13-year-old), is presently (seriously, right the fuck now) rocking my socks with their "Degrassi Every Episode Marathon" for the next 5 weekends, but they are going to start showing re-runs of "Dawson's Creek" starting tomorrow, y'all! I took this quiz on "The N" called "What Dawson's Creek character are you?" and I'm Jack: "Even when you're in one of your quiet, anti-social moods, your friends know they can always turn to you for sensible, straightforward advice." They left some stuff out though, like "Jack is a homosexual." If I was 12 and "chatting" on The N and I took this quiz and it said I was like Jack, I think I'd pretty much know what that meant. But that's why I don't work for The N. I work for Jesus.

9. But More Specifically, Pacey.
I'm still really sad that Tom Cruise is screwing up Joey so bad. Joey should still be with Pacey!

8. Brian Kinney

I've been watching "Queer as Folk" which makes me want to be a gay man (this is not a new thought). I remember reading that Shane's character was modeled after Brian Kinney. But, unlike scrawny ol' Shane (who I love, of course, despite her lack of assalicious action), Brian Kinney is more or less physically my ideal man. Tall, brawny, sexy, hair to grab, cute ass, and my heartstrings feel super-tugged-upon when he's cute with Justin. I wanna be a gay man and have a one-night stand with BK and he never ever ever has to call me again ever.

7.Christina Aguilera in her new music video, "Ain't No Other Man"

Seriously, hottest thing ever. Everyone vote for it in That MTV Music Video Awards Show that basically launches a full scale advertising assault on NYC every goddamn summer.

6. Beh-Beh?

I don't know what I want more from this particular advertising campaign from bebe: to be Mischa Barton, to have Mischa Barton's shoes, or to do Mischa Barton. Whatever it is, I probably can't afford it, but it sure is nice to think about.

5+4. Chandler Bing + Josh Lyman = DOUBLE TROUBLE!!

Last night, Hav and I enjoyed the fruits of my Netflix subscription in the form of a DVD containing the pilot of what is officially our (our=all cool people) New Show of The Year, Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip. So, Bradley Whitford and Matthew Perry, who are like, the Gods of SuperMale Friendship on Television (Josh+Toby, Chandler+Joey), are playing a writer-director team in charge of a sketch comedy show, the SNL of L.A. It's gonna be fan-fucking-tastic. They even use "West Wing" font! This is the best casting decision ever (runner up: Leonardo DiCaprio and Claire Danes in that long music video thing based on "Romeo and Juliet" by Shakespeare).

3. Elvira Kurt

She was on the Rosie Cruise and she was on our bus from the Seattle airport, and me and Hav concurred that she looked/dressed like an older Shane. She was with her partner and their cute baby who will be funny too because they got sperm from a gay guy comedian (also the baby will probably, I'm guessing, also be gay. Gay is OK!), even pulling off an amazing set on the night everyone was puking on each other because of the tsunami. She was interviewed on afterellen.com this week. Sorry, I just wanted to talk about the cruise again. It was so much fun!

2. Paris Hilton
Jeremiah texted me and said I reminded him of a "smart Paris Hilton." What the hell is that supposed to mean? "Open Minded Dater"?
(J, if you've figured out how to use computers I want you to know that I love you even though I make fun of you. And you remind me of a smart Flava Flave.)

1. People Who Did My Survey
The results are as follows:
Skinny jeans are pretty slammin' on the right person so I should probably get some since I am the right person,
only one-third of you go tanning as much as I do which means I'm gonna die,
everyone is crazy and most of them are in therapy,
a little more than half of you are livin' large like me (aka in debt)
everyone reads books which means you are all going to heaven with Jesus,
only 22% of you have Never gone homo,
Boy Crazy Stacey is Our American Idol but most of you never read the book anyhow,
29-30 is too old to shop at delias and I should stop eating the cookies,
and you're all wiped, wired, unhappy but having fun and guarded.

In other words: I am not alone, just like Michael Jackson always told me.

The Magazine is OUT and I Just Had to Laugh, I Saw the Photograph

So, it's on the newsstands. At least in NYC.


1. It features possibly one of the worst photographs of me ever taken, rivaling the one in Disneyworld where I'm wearing a Buzz Lightyear hood (see photo, right), but at least that was supposed to be ironic.

2. My exes, on the other hand, look fucking amazing.

3. Why do my exes look so hot? Because I'm the "open-minded dater" who goes for "really pretty people who are all wrong for me." Yep. Yeah. That's me. And by "that's me," I mean, "When the fact-checker asked me to verify that quote, I told her no. No verification on that sucker. I did NOT say that."

3a. It's possible that I did say something like that, but I didn't mean it, I was probs just quoting Krista, who once said, not even seriously, "You like beautiful idiots," referring to M---y and J----h and no one else. Also, J wasn't an idiot, he just wasn't an intellectual, but he wasn't wrong for me, just not right, which maybe means I'm an idiot? I dunno, he was nice to me.

I don't date pretty people who're all wrong for me. I mean, that's just not true. And if I did, I'd tell myself to cut it out, like, now.

3b. I totally love Virginia (who wrote the article) and absolutely trust that she passed on the correct information to the you know, higher-ups, esp. 'cause she showed me the info she had and I signed off on it.

So I'm not blaming her, I'm blaming, um, urm, hm ... the Paraphrasing department? Whatever it was that I possibly said, I totally took it back during the fact-checking "process." Especially since all my hot dumb exes aren't even in this story! (They can't read, so I know they aren't reading this. And if they are--Jordan Catalano, I always knew you could read if you just tried really hard! )

[That's a joke, fact-checker.]

4. Hey, fact-checker: your ass is grass.

4a. Here's a fact for ya': I hear they're hiring at Duane Reade.

4b. (I'm just kidding, I love you. This's all in good fun. MC is still in my top five favorite magazines.)


5. I checked on the fact "Marie is cool." Turns out that she is. Thus, I present, the improved version. The photograph is more recent. You may think it is of a different person. No, it's not. It's me. In both photos. It's just that in the published photograph, I look like a douchebag.

The Original:


The Improved Version:


6. The only awesome thing about this article is that they describe Marc as "a Republican with a penchant for Ben Affleck movies." HA! Sorry, buddy. (P.S. Your photo is hot!! Wanna hook up? We could rent Gigli and make out? JK Denise, he's all yours. Happy engagement! Good luck finding things to talk about!)

Also, they selected some absolutely hideous photograph of John and I in San Francisco which they've cut John out of (??) and labeled: Bernard's San Francisco treat? An invisible ex.

Seriously, I could make fun of that, but I don't think I even have to.

Still Waiting for My Big Debut: I Ain't Gonna Work on Maggie's Farm No More

I know when magazines come out. I don't know a lot of things, like calculus (or how to spell calcualaus) or how to spell the word for the fourth day of the week that starts with "W," or how to make a plain box with HTML, or anything about that TV show "Lost," or how to read minds. But I know that Marie Claire has never come out after Glamour, Lucky, Vanity Fair, Cosmo, jesus christ. The Year-End issue of Life magazine with all the best photos of 2007 is obviously going to come out first. Then I saw this:

According to the New York Times, this is the first issue with the new editor, which means perhaps they are switching things up a bit. As in taking longer for it to come out. It's like I just want the dentist to pull my teeth already. The irony of all of this is that I am on the cover!!

"You should just tell people that you're gonna be on the cover."
-Haviland

Before I went blonde again, I got a lot of comments about lookin' like Maggie G, which I sometimes suspected was because we are both lanky and "quirky" and willing to carry heavy objects on our bony backs for James Spader. I mean, other than that, we really don't have that much in common, looks-wise.

That being said, I am putting a hex on Courtney Cox. Every time I see her face staring back at me from the August issue, a little piece of me dies inside.

I think John left me a message that he might come out to New York so we can yell at each other. That might not be what he said. But if it was, that's kinda funny.

Freaking Out About Upcoming Appearance in Marie Claire

I noticed my friendly magazine-salesman (I think he sells other things too, like beverages, tobacco products, candy bars, gum and DVDs featuring aspiring young actresses with disarming facial expressions) unpacking a stack of the brand new Glamour this evening (I had to see him through the FOG OF HEAT) ...

"Um, do you know when the new Marie Claire comes out?"

"Uh," he says, juggling about ten cell phone products in his hands (he might sell those too, I don't even remember the last time I paid my cell bill let alone purchased an accessory, whatever)

"Tomorrow."

Tomorrow! TOMORROW?!!! ONLY A DAY AWAY?

P.S. I did not write an article for Marie Claire. if I had (and I will, someday, because I totally heart marie claire and I will one day be a star), I'd be humble about it. BUT I don't like talking about things that I have done that are legitimately cool, cuz that wouldn't be self-deprecating enough. (and maybe because I don't do cool things, but whatev) No, someone else wrote an article. I'm just in it. Yes, it's true, I saved a village in Mexico, lost twenty pounds and just bought 100 outfits for less than $100.00!

This blog entry, which will be seen by (unfortunately) less than the 1,514,525 Marie Claire readers, is me making peace with this. I am preparing for the Zen.

Like how I shot a bolt of metal through my bellybutton to make piece with my tummy. Which actually worked. Well also I stopped eating so much pizza.

See look!:
Anyhow. E.G., I don't talk about my real-live-personal-life on this blog, but considering I'm writing a book about myself (if you're going to tell me I'm some sort of narcissist, I would say to you "Thanks Captain Obvious!" HA! Gotcha, Suckah!), I should get used to this idea.

like--I've been in stuff before, sharing questionable secrets, but MC has a serious circulation. I mean, SERIOUS. However, clearly MC has me beat on circulation. I mean, you know, right? WAL-MART SERIOUS. But also, no one else salivates over a stack of fresh magazines at the magazine store like I do, so maybe not that many people read mags like I do.

OK really, I'm worried I said something retarded.

Basically, I was put in touch with a writer while I was working at nerve, I thought the story was about girls who were friends with their exes, it turned out they were just looking for girls who were friends with their exes so that these aforementioned girls could get in touch with their exes for a story on match-the-girl-with-her-exes.

Yay fun right?

First I tried to get out of it five or six times, once actually sending an email to the super-sweet editor (I'm being genuine, she's really awesome) containing this paragraph as my conditions to be in the article:

So I need you to put three hundred dollars, a lifetime subscription and a freelance gig in a briefcase and leave it in front of the Hearst Building. I'll show up dressed like Edie Beale and say "The eagle as landed" and you can hand it to me. Not you necessarily, but like, whomever has time. It could even be an intern.

Anyhow because the writer is really sweet, and everyone at marie claire was so cool, and also the beauty bag which enabled Haviland and I to never leave our cabin on the cruise without at least five shimmery products and three shades of eyeshadow......I did it.

I told the writer my CAPTIVATING life story and all my various "exes."

John: Perfect! High school! Love! EX NUMBER ONE.
C.T: Not a very captivating tale.
S.D: I'm athletic and artsy, he's athletic and artsy, we're both super-good in bed—people would guess we were a couple right away, therefore eliminating the "surprise" factor the story is going for.
J.H: Perfect! Older man! Republican! TOTALLY REFUSED TO DO IT. (He's a cop now. I understand ... J, if you're reading this, aren't I funny?).

I know what you're thinking...that's only ONE ex! Well, Marc (him and I had nothing in common whatsoever, except for when he made me see Mission to Mars and we both agreed it was atrocious) and Lo stepped up to be my quasi-exes. Marc's fiancée is unimpressed and will probably kill me with a pitchfork before Labor Day.

A few weeks ago, a fact checker asked me to confirm statements like "You have a weakness for beautiful people." That is when my panic transformed into beyond panic, which is better, because beyond-panic is just another word for nothing left to lose.

Convo circa two weeks ago:

Me: "I wonder if my grandmother is going to see this magazine at Revco or Wall-Mart and call me and say honey, I didn't know you were a lesbo!** Come back to Reeseville and go to Wilmington College!"
Lo: "Yeah..when's it coming out?"
Me: "August. Oh my God, I'm going to have another anxiety attack."
Lo: "I wish it was coming out sooner! I wish it was coming out next week!"

**I am not a lesbo, but I think that word is funny/fun. I think labeling is old school, but that being said, I'm writing a book about bisexuality. So Um. Right.

I'm counting on Lo to support me during this trying time.

When the lady took my photo at my office I wasn't blonde yet and I should have gone tanning more often and I'm pretty sure I said something dumb.

OK.

If anyone sees the article and thinks I sound like a real princess and wants to be my next ex-boyfriend, please email me, thanks.

I'm smoking and listening to Madonna. Things are lookin' up.

The Gospel of Tasti-D-LIte

The other day, I wanted Tasti-D, but I was running late (per always), and the guy in front of me wanted to order some BananaDoucheBerry Smoothie, and so I couldn't get any 'cause I was gonna be super late instead of sorta late. I don't like there to be consequences to my actions (of being late).
So this is the Gospel, which satisfied me almost as much as that "d-lite" would have.

1. If the line at Tasti-D-Lite exceeds five (5) persons, you are no longer entitled to a sample. Sub-rules apply:
a) If the Consumer-in-Question (henceforth referred to as "CIQ") truly needs a sample in order to chose her flavor, the CIQ must defer her place in line to the person directly behind her while she mulls over the delicate composition of "Rice Pudding" or "Oreos n' Peanut Butter" or the deceptively titled "Coconut Joy" from her piddly little to-go-ketchup-cup thing.
b) If the CIQ already knows what flavor she wants and she still demands a sample of the flavor-of-the-day just because she can ("I just wanna seeeee!"*)--she is a douchebag.
*I have an idea, why don't you see some other time? Everyone knows they only have ten flavors, but just like, 500 different names for them. Like Jelly Bellys.

2. If the line at Tasti-D-Lite exceeds two (2)persons, the CIQ should not order a smoothie. Here's why:

It's like getting lobster or pot roast at a 24-hour diner. Here's why:
-They get out the manual. Yeah. Instructions. Because no one orders smoothies at Tasti-D-Lite, except douchebags. I did it once and I saw them dump a liter of actual peanut butter into my 60-calorie delite, and that obviously ruined the point. I shoulda just gone to Haagen-Daaz. Or Starbucks! Then at least I would have gotten caffeine. Also I'd like to add that if you order something with coffee in it, the Tasti-D people will put actual Folger's coffee grinds (from like, 1993) into your "smoothie." Gross, right? Yeah, go to Starbucks. There's one around the corner, I promise.

-If the CIQ wants an actual smoothie, she should go to Jamba Juice or whatever, they're taking over the world so she shouldn't have trouble locating one.

-You think that powder they're shoving in there is wheatgrass or protein yeast or something? No it isn't. It's anthrax.

-In NYC, where health code violations are enforced about as well as marijuana and prostitution laws, you don't want to order anything anywhere that is not the specialty of that particular establishment. (Thus the lobster metaphor.)

Which means:
-In addition to slowing down the line--no, basically, completely halting the line's progress altogether, the CIQ is going to spend the rest of the day spewing up rotten bananas. Which, I suppose, is one way to cut back on calories.

3. The CIQ can order a milkshake--as in--Tasti-d, milk, ice, blend. That's simple. We can wait for that. But those complicated smoothies are not for anyone, unless it's 10 A.M. and the CIQ is the only one within 30 feet of the selected Tasti-D venue.

4. If the CIQ's parents or other near kin are in town and she would like to take these relations to the Low-Cal Paradise of Tasti-D-Lite, she should discuss the specifics prior to entering the establishment. This is what I don't want to listen to:

Girl in Hard Tail pants: See, Mawm, there's only six-tay cahlories in one of these!
Mom from Idaho: What? That cahn't be true! (it isn't)
GIHTP: No, Mawm, look at the poster!
MFI: Well, they must taste just awful, like paste!
GIHTP: No, you'll see, I lahve Tastay, you cahn't even tell it's good for you! (yeah you can)
MFI: Oooo what flahvor should I get?
GIHTP: Owh, you can just get a sample! (please don't)
MFI: Oh, mmmm.
GIHTP: Oh my gawd they have pineapple cheesecake my fahvorite!
MFI: Oh, Fluffernutter Fudge that sounds delicious! (it isn't.)
GIHTP: Oh, mm. Get a swirl, always get a swirl!

And so on and so forth. Don't sell it! It's all lies anyhow (see below).

Everyone knows that GIHTP is not about to order a low-cal item. You know that GIHTP is gonna get a large with five flavors smashed inside it, covered in a crumbled Heath Bar, and she may as well have gone to Haagen Daaz or perhaps to the innermost circle of Dante's Inferno or Duane Reade. And MFI--she'll probably want a smoothie.

Also, you should check this out. It's an article about how Tasti-D is a scam. FYI. So see? Get out of there! I'm skinny anyhow, so I don't care about the truth, I just like to imagine that I'm being healthy, that's all. I think it's a fab illusion, like love. JK, I'm not THAT big of a cynic. I believe in love, I just don't believe in low-calorie things that taste good.

5. The most annoying Tasti-D-Lite in the city, in my experience, is on 86th and Lexington. Often there is a line out the door of people hankering for their fix, and they are the wrong kind of people. Usually I'd rather go get some Alpha-1 from the nice man in the red polo shirt next door, even though Alpha-1 is probably made from nuclear waste, crushed ice and splenda. But then I'll also get a pound of gummy candy and chocolate almonds and eat them until my stomach hurts, and then I'll put it away until my stomach stops hurting, and then I'll eat it again.

6. This is my Tasti-D-Lite. For some reason, there are two really hot guys that work there. This is not typical of Tasti-D-Lite establishments.

7. This isn't really related to Tasti-D-Lite, but it is related to things that are both Tasty and Delightful. At the gym I was watching the music video for "My Prerogative" by Britney Spears, and i was like "Holy Smokes, She's HOTTT!!!" So Britney: get it together and writhe for us again, like the old days. Thanks!

8. So, I was just looking on the internet for pics of Tasti-D, and I came across this super-recent blog post on three-toed-sloth about tasti-d-lite. I thought it was funny, and also funny because I am writing a blog post about tasti-d, which means i must be on the pulse of the bloggeration. (that's generation blog, p.s.) I started reading all the comments, then realized I was going to have a panic-attack that like, someone might have already said what I just wrote, and then I'd have to trash this whole thing! (See that? That was an insight into the "proccess" of a writer. It's like Paris Review interview, but quicker and with only 600 calories an ounce) So I stopped and thought about Britney Spears, and then added number 7 up there, and made this number 8. God, i'm getting so behind the scenes with y'all today!

9. If I use the term "tasti-d" one more time, I'm going to throw up all over Bloomingdales, I'm totally grossing myself out. Ew.


Better.

Sunday Top 10: Appearances by Flannel Shirts in Marie's Videos From Middle School

I've been watching so many videos from middle school (book research...seriously!) that it feels like 1993 in here. Except if it was 1993 I'd be paying $2.95 an hour to access the internet via AOL and there would be no blogs, but whatever.

Since I get less and less clever with every passing moment in the sweltering subway station, I'm gonna totally change the whole Sunday Top Ten thing. It's just gonna be like--Top Ten anything. Like this week, in honor of 1992-1995, I've taken some screen shots to compile:

THE TOP TEN APPEARANCES BY FLANNEL SHIRTS IN MARIE'S VIDEOS FROM MIDDLE SCHOOL!

(This wasn't hard, because the flannel-per-capita ratio at Emerson was out of control. we wanted to be Kurt Cobain/Jordan Catalano--even the girls (we all look like Michigan Womyn's Festival toolbelt tent-happy hippies with skater pants)

10. Somehow, flannel shirts were the chosen costume for our lip sync performance to Madonna's fashion-forward anthem "Material Girl." Here Alina (My Best Friend 2) and I perform my choreography, but obviously she's a better voguer than me.


9. Like stripes and patterns but better and with more edge.


8. Best Friend Number One, Becky, being assaulted by me from behind.

7. My Boyfriend, Jordan Catalano, looked really good in flannel.

6. Alina, My Best Friend 2, was the hottest girl in school. Which is why boys sometimes let her wear their flannels. I chose this look because I like how she is mixing her pink outfit with this hideous brown flannel, but it's almost like a style all it's own, right?


5. This is some kind of hippie shit where I must have been learning something.

4. This is what happens to pre-adolescent boys who's parents send them to a 100-student middle school for "gifted and talented" students. It's called overcompensating. The other boys are playing Magic the Gathering.

3. We were wearing togas for some sort of hippie unit on the Greeks. But that doesn't mean that you can't also wear FLANNEL!!!

2. This is Erika and I doing some hippie presentation about some science gravity whatever thing I probably failed anyway. Check out the flannel-overall combo though.

1. This is how I feel when I see Jordan Catalano:*


*Actually, this look immediatly followed my crush object saying "Here's Marie, the other sex machine"!!! LOL REALLY!
** Awwww ... sigh.
**** omg someone come and rescue me e.g., Rhianna ahhhhh
****** Don't you love the way he LEANS?**IN FLANNEL?!

Sunday Top Five: So Hot Right Now, Joan Jett, Sobriety

Sunday Top 5. Yeah, I know it used to be the Sunday Top 10. But it's at least a thousand degrees outside, my stomach hurts, I'm still in cruise-withdrawl mode, and I gotta go to the gym and come back before Fresh Direct gets here!

Did I mention how hot it is? Jesus. I seriously want to die. It's a good thing I usually stay indoors with the other vampires.

But here's five things to be excited about--okay--three things to be excited about, and two things I'd like to bitch about:


5. The new Joan Jett & The Blackhearts album. Though Joan has been a fashion icon for me, I realized I was one of those lame people who had a fashion icon who's music they didn't really listen to. (Most of the music I do listen to is done by musicians who either dress like granola-crunchy-lesbians or like actual pimps, which isn't a good look for me, and granola has more calories than you think, y'all!) She was on the cover of Curve Magazine this month and I thought "nice eyeliner, I gotta get that album." Not only does she play soundbytes of G.W being an idiot (fool me once, etc), but she has hot bi lyrics like "Switch-hitter/you know she plays the field/she ain’t concerned/as long as its real/top bottom/she does either/always in control/she’s a teaser." That's so much better than the retarded poem that opened the dippiest book ever "Bi Any Other Name," which had similar themes.

4. Sobriety.

I was thinking about it. This plan--(no drinking or smoking for a week)--is still in it's earliest stages, and I might not see it to fruition. But I've been feeling like an asshole lately because I don't get the work done that I need to be doing, and I figured that cutting these things out would help reduce the risk of staying up too late and sleeping in. Not that I party very often--in fact, I tend to really "go out" maybe about 2-3 times a month because I Hate Other People--but I drank a lot on the cruise and I've had a drink or a smoke every now and then since so I'm feeling kinda lethargic about it. Then I looked at Getty Images to find a photo of "sobriety." And this is what I got:

That looks awful! I think I'm gonna go have a drink. BRB.
(JK, I never drink/smoke before sunset! Unless it's a really late sunset.)
Exceptions to the no-drink-drug rule: If someone really needs me to smoke/drink with them. I might consider it. But I won't, you know, initiate.

3.
Overheard in New York #1
At the Bedford L Train Stop:
hipster girl #1: Why are all the L train service advisory signs at this station only in Spanish?
hipster girl #2: I guess it affects an area of Brooklyn so far away that the only people who live there speak Spanish?

Overheard in New York #2
In Times Square, circa 11:30pm
homeless heckler man: Don't look at me in that tone of voice!

2. Question of the Day:
Why do people call me, text me, email me or approach me in person to comment on a blog post, but do NOT, in fact, comment on the actual blog post itself, which is what I need to make myself feel popular? I think that's really annoying, and none of you are invited to my party. That's right. No one. And it's gonna be a boy-girl party, and there's gonna be Hi-C, and we're gonna watch 'Dirty Dancing' and you are not, I repeat -- you are NOT invited.

Okay, I love people and I'm a really happy person, especially today.

So now I want to talk about how hot it is.

1. Anywhere But Here
We in Brooklyn are currently under a SEVERE WEATHER ALERT: HEAT ADVISORY. "Temps will climb into the Mid 90's ... combined with humidity will cause the heat index to climb between 100 and 104 degrees."

AWESOME.

Places I have been on other July 16ths, which I suspect were more temperate than this beast:

July 16, 2005, NYC
LOW-73, HIGH-84
This, I believe, was the day of the legendary water-boiling conversation with Matty (me:"aren't you going to put a lid the pot?" him:"why?" me:"um, are you kidding?" him:"No." me:"cuz it boils faster?" him:"are you in a hurry? i'm not in a hurry."). Even the water that was (not) boiling in that pot in his (air conditoned) room was not as hot as it is today.

July 16, 2004: NYC
LOW-64, HIGH-78.8
Having a 7th grade moment with the cute boy at Niko's on the Upper West Side (seventh grade because we were punished for "socializing" by asshole manager). The boy's name was Jeremiah, eventually we fell in love. It was very air conditioned in Niko's and as i remember not as hot as it is today.

July 16, 2003: ANN ARBOR, MICHIGAN
LOW-55, HIGH-81
Most likely working at the Mac-Shack (air conditioned) and hanging out with Scot (air conditioned). Also it was not as hot as it is today either.

July 16, 2002: ANN ARBOR, MICHIGAN
LOW-52, HIGH-90
Even though I may have been either at the dentist or fighting with the hoards of assholes at the Ann Arbor Art Fair, it was still not as hot as it is today.

July 16, 2001: NYC
LOW-63, HIGH-84
According to my records, I made $250 waitressing at the Olive Garden on July 14, and was in the middle of an-all-time social-high of non-stop excitement, fun and new people in NYC. And it was not as hot as it is TODAY!

July 16, 2000: SEATTLE, WA
LOW-52, HIGH-82
I was literally PICKING RASPBERRIES. With Sheetal and Meg. I was visiting Sheetal between my move from NYC to Ann Arbor, and Meg was visiting too. PICKING RASPBERRIES and it was NOT AS HOT as it is TODAY.

July 16, 1999: ANN ARBOR MI
LOW-57, HIGH-90
I was probably working at GapKids, going to the gym, being anorexic, or hanging out with Jake. EVEN if I had been working at GapKids and EVEN if all I'd eaten was a Slim-Fast bar that entire day--it would still be better than here because it was NOT AS HOT AS IT IS TODAY.

I would venture to say that July 16, 1981, when I was still inside my mother's womb, was probably more temperate than today.

This guy is supposed to represent today's weather, but he's full of shit. Seriously, it looks like a photo taken from inside someone's cervix at a guy eating them out and they have a lot of white bushy down-there-hair. I know that's the "dirtiest" thing I've ever said on this blog, but I doubt anyone will make it all the way to this part of the entry anyhow. If you did, and if you are my brother or my mother, I want to say this: "Isn't that what it looks like though? I mean, seriously."

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.

Flashback: Warm Nights, Almost Left Behind, Suitcases of Memories...

Post-Ecstatic-Stress-Syndrome.
it's like RSAD (Reverse-Seasonal Affective Disorder, my other disease)
BUT WITH MORE YEARNING.

symptoms:

-totally forgetting that the world is, in fact, not entirely composed of homosexuals [and also straight people who are totally prepared for the fact that you'll think they're gay until they show you otherwise, like by standing around in the breakfast line gabbing like it's fucking Mahh-Jong day at the Miami Beach retirement home while you're trying to make a beeline for the fresh canned pears, not that this actually happened to me or anything, but I think they were on the wrong ship or else had a lesbian daughter with irresistible grandchildren). Continually assuming that everyone who walks past you is a homosexual and thinks you too are a homosexual. Feeling somehow wronged by that.

-complete inability to prepare meals or clean up the results of the take-out you inevitably resorted to eating. persistent delusions that a meal awaits you on the second floor of your apartment building, followed by delusion that your dishes will be removed by a smiling Indonesian man in a navy blue suit.

-attempting to open your apartment door with a plastic card emblazoned with the image of a cruise ship.

-walking on water, like Jesus, but without the water or the holy-ness.

-total confusion as to why everything is so dirty and no one is folding your towels or slipping a newsletter with tomorrow's fun activities under the door.

-forgetting that you have a cell-phone, cash, a computer, or a job.

CAUSE:

going from this:








to this:




Complete Run-Down of All Cruise Photos and Boring Details to Follow Within the next 24-48 hours. I know, you're already jonesin' for it. "Please Marie, tell me all about how much fun you had while I was being boring in my hot smelly life!" Well, don't worry kiddies, I WILL.

p.s. A gross sweaty drunk scary man in the A-C 34th street station at 1:30 AM asked me "all the trains are going that way?" like ten times,
and a gay person would never do that.

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."