The L Word: Season Four, Epsiode One

Hey Automatic Losers, "The Sunday Top Ten," which this week is composed by Natalie Raaber with some minor assistance from Marie Lyn Bernard, will appear tomorrow at some point. Because we all know that "Sunday Top Ten" means "Monday Top Ten." Just like if I say 'I'll meet you at 6:30' you know that means 'I'll meet you at 7:15.'

Anyhow, for all interested parties.....

The L Word Season Four, Episode One: Legend in the Making:
Some Moments, Some Screencaps, Some Brief Foreplay, Some Lesbians, Some Strais, Some Quotes, Some Jenny Moments and Some Kittisms

Tonight we went to the Premiere Party for the Info-mercial for "OurChart.com" (which I mentioned I was intensely excited about already), starring actresses Leisha Hailey, Mia Kirshner and Rachel Shelly. We were confused that the infomercial seemed to suggest it was more of a forum to organize the notches on one's belt than for lesbians to honestly network with one another. I'm going to be optimistic that it's really about the latter, because we shot some great pics of ourselves tonight that would be really good on our OurChart page. I can't wait. Really, I can't, I've been checking it about every ten seconds.

ARSON! ARSON!

Sorry. I just had to mention that. I think it's a good thing to say. And bang some furniture while you're at it.

Also, they screened these little clips from "The L Word," which is supposed to be about The Way That We Live. I know that because they didn't change the opening song.

Our goal at the party was to get photographed for GoNYC Magazine or for Curve, and within 30 seconds of our entourage's arrival (Me, Haviland, Sherri, Maggie, Natalie, Jessie, Annie, Lainy), dressed in red, as we pre-planned, we were totally photographed. The girl who photographed us had really nice breasts.

I'll have photographs of this event within the next 2-3 days, depending on how fast Heather (post-party photographer) and Sherri (premiere-party photographer) get their acts together. I admit this event did make me very emotional and happy, just to see all of these gay women and allies in the same room with characters they could look to and cheer for and feel for and lust after, that there is a forum for these stories, even if they are stories as poorly told as 90210 told the stories of teenagers in high school. It's still great, to be in that room, and to feel that energy. Precious Moments, y'all.

There were a lot of cute girls there though most of them were my friends or they had girlfriends or both. Anyhow going to lesbian events always makes me feel super gay (side note: seeing "Naked Boys Singing" also made me feel super gay), so we'll start out this show at a Kinsey 6.

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"This is how much I love you guys. I'm like, rolling my eyes already."
-Heather, who so gamely came over for the post-party viewing of the 10pm episode although the show, as it stands, is not necessarily her favorite.

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Lesbian Squabble #1: Can You Hear Me Now?
In the Ring:Tina V. Jenny, Alice, Helena, Max and Kit.
Content/Result: The Gals want Bette to know that no one can take her baby away from her, so they have all gathered round to leave her a voice mail telling her to come home. This will for sure work without a doubt. Tina wants the Gals to know that "if she's not in L.A by the time I get back, I will call the police and she will NEVER see Angelica again." We all know Tina will win, but the real winner is Alice, because when Tina busts in and rips out her waterfall (not the kind of waterfalls with dead mirages in them, the other kind) of haterade, Alice is like "Bette, now she's definitely not gonna come home" since Tina left that little Moment of Hate on the Intervention Voice Mail.

"Look at their cool luggage!"
-Sherri

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Shane Wins the Wet T-Shirt Contest
This is when Shane comes out of the sea because she used to be a Mermaid, but then Ursula gave her feet because floating around you don't get too far, legs are required for jumping, dancing, and walking around on on those, what's that word again? FEEET

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Lesbian Squabble #2: Last Night a DJ Saved my Life
In the Ring: Max and Jenny
Content/Result: Max totally loses. Jenny says she doesn't forgive Shane for leaving Carmen, especially cause Alice spent all that time planning the wedding and Helena spent a "small fortune" on it (and Jenny managed to get laid by a cute French girl, but whatevs), but Max said he would forgive Shane and Jenny should too. Why? Why is not a good question to ask when it comes to Max. Because Max is stupid.

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Keep Reading and Comment On "Legend in the Making" on the Automatic Straddle Blog....

My So-Called Lesbian Lover: Why Shane is the New Jordan Catalano

In honor of tomorrow's Season Four Premiere of The L Word, I'm posting an essay I wrote for my nerve intern application about two years ago. I tried to update it a little to reflect the unfortunate circumstance we know as "Season Three," but then my eyes started to hurt. Hopefully it still makes sense.

"My So-Called Lesbian Lover: Why Shane is the New Jordan Catalano"

I hadn't seen anything like her before and I just couldn't stop thinking about her. I also couldn't believe it had taken me so long (ten actual months since the premiere on Showtime) to Netflix the first season of The L Word, which I had done on a whim so arbitrary that I can't even remember what small shred of desire shaped that whim to begin with. But after that first week of compulsive viewing of the entire season, there was nothing whimsical about my all-consuming obsession with Shane "I don't do relationships" McCutcheson, the androgynous sexy sinewy smoky-eyed woman who fucked with abandon and broke hearts like I break wine glasses.

I confessed to my roommate and viewing partner, Krista, that my burning desire for Shane, reflected by my new Shane-influenced fashion sense (vintage rock t-shirts and paper-thin sheathes of men's wifebeaters, no bra, distressed jeans just barely hanging on bony hips), was ruining my relationship with my boyfriend (he liked me being mostly hetero and wearing yoga pants). Krista felt the same. Like teenage boys with Brooke Burke posters and Brittney Skye DVDs, we shunned the girls from our class and mourned the impenetrability of a fictional character, the sweet wet dream that is yearning for the non-existent. “You know what?” Krista asked me, staring wistfully the television screen, which was dutifully re-playing our favorite Shane-Cherie sex scene--“I haven’t felt this way about someone since Jordan Catalano.”

Like all daughters raised by feminists in the “Free to be You and Me” generation, Krista and I had never plastered our teenage bedrooms with glossy Kirk Cameron posters from Tiger Beat. My first star-crush, I believe, was for the Hard Day’s Night- era Paul McCartney. Star crushes were for lonely teenagers in square-shaped states who's parents subscribed to TV Guide and still had the Friends finale on VHS. We were above all that, so when someone manages to penetrate our countercultural hearts, even now, in our mid-twenties, they hit us hard. Over the years, only a few men and women have emerged from the airbrushed pack to assert themselves as Worthy. These are characters with on relatively well-written shows or movies, though they were often too mysterious to speak many lines, well written or otherwise, themselves. Characters who to us, seemed real enough that the unavoidable fact of their non-existence was nothing short of heartbreaking.

We want to make love to these characters. We want to slide underneath their smoky exteriors and watch them sleep. We want to extract tales of their troubled childhoods like organs, and then dress ourselves in them. We want to strut down the hallways of our mind-numbing public high school or through the catty girl-clubs of West Hollywood with people so potent that you get wet just looking at them. Or, as Rickie from My So-Called Life (the vehicle for aforementioned Jordan Catalano) would say: “You’re so beautiful, it hurts to look at you.”

What Jordan Catalano had, and what Shane has, is casual sex appeal. It is possible to theorize that Shane is a grown-up Jordan, and Jordan is a budding Shane, but no one could possibly claim that, at the age of their capture, the two have similar personalities. Their only similarity—which cements their mutual ability to sneak into our conscious and unconscious dream-life—is not simply being good-looking, but being the right kind of aloof.


Continue reading and comment on "My So-Called Lesbian Lover" At Automatic Straddle...

The Revolutionary Language: Clichè is the New Original

What We Talk About When We Talk About Talking¹

Ira-Glass Style:
Act One: Totally Unrelated To The Rest
Act Two: Things I Shouldn't Say
Act Three: Things We Do Say, Because We Should, The Fairly Specific Cultural Reference Edition

Also Included: Photographs from New Years Eve Weekend 2006-07 at Chez O'Donnell in Vermont, in Which We Did Not Ski, but We Played with Ski Gear, Etc.


Act I

Heather, who was so kindly lookin' out for the blog, spotted this useful list of "The Worst Lubes for Anal" (I assume this appeared on a bathroom wall of some sort, or perhaps in the locker rooms at Equinox?) and picture-mailed it on over to me. Having no experience in such matters (Anonymous Commenter: this is sort of your field of expertise, right? Go for it: What are the best lubes for anal?), I'd just like to say: Simmer on This.

This is what gets me, BTW: That "FUCK" in the upper left hand corner. Like, was someone reading this and thought "Dammit, I knew dish soap was a crappy idea! FUCK!" and then felt inclined to scrawl this sentiment on the adjacent wall-space? Building a mystery, y'all.

Unrelated Photograph #1 from Vermont New Years Eve '06-7
(L to R) Me, Heather, Haviland

Act II

Gawker is literally stealing words out of my mouth. They sort of do this thing where they declare something "over" about 10 seconds before everyone else does, and it's very hard to keep abreast of these things, like I am that donkey and they are the carrot and the carrot is "cool," and this year once again I almost made the resolution to eat more healthy (e.g., carrots) but then realized that was dumb and probably would just make me feel bad about myself when I went back to Eggo Waffles. And let's be honest here; obviously I feel bad enough as it is about my hypocritical behavior in the field of "General Health and Well Being." (on one side I have my exercise habits, on the other side I have the rest of my life).

Anyhow, first there was the whole douche-bag thing, which really hit hard because I had just recently incorporated that term into my lexicon (Which I guess is their point).

A quick moment of Stephen Dunn:
"I love the good home
cliches can find in an authentic voice."

Then in December they did this "blog cliche" thing, which included the following cliches that I use a lot:

BEST. [ultimate thing or experience]. EVER.
Huh...I thought that had already passed the saturation point, floated over the backlash, and was now sitting nicely in the post-backlash pool of okay-for-irony terms. Or maybe that's just in my universe, which is full of donkeys.

Unrelated Vermont New Years Eve Photograph #2.
(L to R) Me, Haviland, Me, Haviland

LOL, OMG, BTW, etc.: Sigh. Every OMG or LOL to ever be uttered (or, rather, typed) was in irony. So, you know, whatever. I never used it in earnest, therefore I can use it ironically forever. (Who am I talking to? Gawker? Myself? Why am I defending myself to myself?)

Seriously? Seriously?!!
Okay, um, seriously? What if I wrote an article for Food.Com or something about "food cliches"? "If I have to eat one more hamburger between two slices of bread, that'll be it for me and 'eating' altogether." "Enough of this 'sticking forks into pieces of pasta and using the fork to insert the pasta into your mouth, guys, if you are going to chain me to a chair and force me to eat, let's find a new way to do it." You can't deem "seriously?" uncool. That's like deeming "really?" uncool. Which it might be. Whatevs.

[x] is the new [y]
Again, I think those of us who have never used it in earnest can continue to use it for all of time. I think "x is the new y" is the new "x is the new y." Ugh, my head hurts.

The other cliches, e.g., "I just threw up a little bit in my mouth," "[any word] gasm" and "[x], oy"--I am not guilty of such things. Whoever is guilty of those things is less cool than I am.

Act III: How We Talk Now, Specific Cultural References

Did I mention that my brain hurts? This is what I think: the only truly acceptable lingo is that which is so old (aka My So-Called Life, When Harry Met Sally) or so niche (aka The L Word) that it is either years past the saturation point or marginalized enough that it is not in danger of being Already Over.


Angela Chase
Origin: My So-Called Life.
Meaning: Used to describe someone who is analyzing everything until it barely even exists.
Usage: "I don't mean to be Angela Chase, but do you feel like if he really liked me, he'd probably call me by now, and I know that it's only been like 10 hours, but I just think there were some things he said last night, like especially about his ex-girlfriend, and i know it's possible he could be at work or his phone could be dead or whatever but I also feel that ... etc, etc ..."

Standing in Line at Duane Reade
Origin: Duane Reade is the closest thing I know to hell on earth and has notoriously long lines. Although, you know what? Rite-Aid is worse. It just doesn't sound as good.
Meaning: Something unfathomably but insidiously unbearable. E.g waiting in line while two employees are hanging out doing nothing by the Tums and the cashier is doing her nails.
Usage: "I'd rather stand in line at Duane Reade than see The DaVinci Code."

Unrelated Vermont New Years Eve Photograph #3:
Heather, Me.

Rex Manning Day
Origin: In Empire Records, the kids are all riled up because Rex Manning is coming to make a store appearance, and so they all have to be on their best behavior, make the store look nice, and basically act like assholes/kiss-asses.
Meaning: Making a place/environment artificial for the benefit of someone you don't actually even really like, but for some reason have to impress.
Usage: "The Regional Manager is coming in today so we all have to be in perfect uniform and be sure to actually present the wine list at every table, basically it's Rex Manning Day."

Going-Down-on-Dana-Fairbanks
Origin: In Season One of The L Word, the girls head to the Dinah Shore weekend as friends of the Now-Departed Dana Fairbanks, Lesbian Tennis Star. However, Dana is snatched up at the door by her gushing fan and "guest liaison" Tanya, who later succeeds in getting Ms. Fairbanks into bed. While they are getting it on, Tanya exclaims: "I can't believe I'm about to go down on Dana Fairbanks!"
Meaning: Sleeping with you is like realizing a long-standing dream. (see also: "starfuckers")
Usage: "OMG, she's so obsessed with you if you hooked up it would totally be a like she was going down on Dana Fairbanks."

Unrelated Vermont New Years Eve Photograph #4:
(L to R) Tara, Heather, Me

"I Must Pass"
Origin: The Form Rejection Letter from the Lit Agency, which goes something like this: "Though I enjoyed the premise of your story, unfortunately the action did not keep me glued to the page. I must pass." or "I found your subject matter timely and interesting, but unfortunately I didn't feel the stakes were high enough for your characters. I must pass."
Meaning: I'm gonna be really nice about totally rejecting you.
Usage: "Though I found your attempts at conversation and cunnilingus inspiring, I didn't feel your personality really maintained my interest past the first 5 minutes of our night together. I must pass."

Far Rockaway
Origin: Far Rockaway is the last stop on the A train.
Meaning: Those parts of the MTA map that look particularly lonely, e.g those accesible only by one subway line which doesn't run on weekends.
Usage: "You're moving to Kew Gardens? Where the hell is that, Far Rockaway?"
"I could've taken the bus to Far Rockaway in the amount of time it took my cab to go five blocks during rush hour."

Unrelated Vermont New Years Eve Photograph #5:
(L to R) Sherri, Haviland, Me.

Zach Morris
Origin: Zach Morris, protagonist of popular television program 'Saved by the Bell'
Meaning/Usage: We're all familiar with the "Zach Morris phone," that's basically 'already over' and refers to a large cell phone.
Other usages include "The Zach Morris Time Freeze" (which is what you want to do when you wish you could just like, stop your conversation, make the entire room freeze, and talk to the camera until you get your feelings sorted out) and "Zach Morris Hair," which is essentially a really bad haircut, like the one Zach Morris has on the left.

Sally Albright
Origin: The Sally of "When Harry Met Sally"
Meaning: Used to describe women who "think they are low maintenance but are really high maintenance" and/or women who order everything on the side and sub ingredients, modifying their dish until it bears no resemblance to it's original appearance on the menu.
Example: "You totally just pulled a Sally Albright on that grilled chicken salad."

"You're So Beautiful, it Hurts to Look At You."
Origin: I believe Rickie was the first to say it, and he said it on My So-Called Life.
Meaning: This is pretty much the best compliment. Best. Compliment. Ever.

The Suicide of Kurt Cobain
Origin: Kurt Cobain, a Legend for his Music and his Flannels and his Suicide.
Meaning/Usage: Used by Generation X/Yers to mock our politically comfortable childhoods.
E.G. "Yeah, I was real awkward in junior high, like fat and I wore a lot of black and spent all night on the phone crying about Kurt Cobain."
"I haven't felt this depressed since Kurt Cobain killed himself."

More photographs to be inappropriately inserted at a later juncture.

¹ The title of a short story by Raymond Carver, and subsequently the title of one of his most famous story collections.

Sunday Top 10: Best Everythings of 2006 - Ciara, Gawker, Lesbian Teevee, My Friends, NPR

Because I'm cooler than you, I'll be roasting like a little chestnut at the O'Donnell condo in Vermont for New Year's Eve, watching movies and drinking and playing Cat's Cradle with my friends and perhaps watching other people ski/snowboard and thinking about how cold their fingers are in comparison to our fingers, although actually my fingers and toes get cold pretty fast even in hot rooms. (Though we're staying at a "ski resort," none of us intend to go "skiing." One time, Lewis and Dad and I went skiing in Vermont and Lewis fell off the mountain. It was AWESOME. Also, one time Scot and I went snowboarding at Brighton (which is a landfill-turned-mountain in Michigan) and by "snowboarding" I mean that by the time we got our shit together and got there, it was closed, and so we just went to Big Boy's. This is gonna be kinda like that.)

I feel like I need some sort of grand Sunday Top Ten though, for the last day of the year? I am so tired, I think I am going to poke my eyes out with chapstick except I can't find any goddamn chapstick!!!????

SUNDAY TOP TEN: TOP TEN OF 2006


10. The Music Video for "Promise" by Ciara

If there was a channel that showed this video over and over again, 24-7, I would sit in my bed and watch this channel for the rest of my life, until I died, and I would still be happy and snug as a bug in a rug.

9. Images from the Permanent Collection, Part One.

Janet. Me. March 06.

Me. Lo. July 06.

Me. Tara. Feb 06.

8. The Debut of Automatic Win Into the Public Eye
On May 22nd, 2006, Automatic Win Made it's Debut on Gawker. That seems so far away now, like Chutes and Ladders and learning to read. I was so young then, so naive, so new.

Yes, this chart landed me, for the first time in my young life, on Gawker.com:


We can't decide whether we think it'd be thoroughly terrifying or thoroughly amusing to owe one's entire life to Craigslist. But one Williamsburgian realized this weekend that she owes everything to the listings service, and she constructed this intriguing chart to prove her point. As for us, all we can owe to Craigslist is the successful sale of some old furniture and, for a few weeks a few years ago, a painful burning sensation when we peed. We think it best to leave that uncharted. (Gawker.com)

7. Images from the Permanent Collection, Part Two

Lainy/Baby Spice. Me/Sporty Spice. May 06.

Me. Haviland. May 06.

Me. Jenny. Feb 06.

6. Rosie O'Donnell on The View. And South of Nowhere, Workout, The L Word, America's Next Top Model, Imagine Me and You, Ellen, Top Chef, Degrassi: The Next Generation, and seriously, y'all: Britney F***n' Spears.
You don't even have to love Rosie like I do to love what she's done for the show. It is funny now. And the press is eating it, like wolfing it down. You can have your haterade with Donald Trump, but I love the hell out of this woman and I always have, since A League of Their Own, and I still have my sweaty-palmed ticket stub from when I went to see her in "Grease" in 1994 in Detroit with my Dad and I remember sitting there thinking "I am in the same room as Rosie O'Donnell," even though our seats were in way way back.

But the fact is that things are fucking CHANGING, guys. The fact is that G.W hates gay people so much, and has used the whole gay marriage debate to get his way with the right wingers and so now what he has done is actually made it really totally uncool to be homophobic. I mean, do you really want to be in cahoots with the dude who is staying the course in Iraq? We've got two women on daytime television who are out lesbians and one of them is on there every single goddamn day talking about her kids and her family without any apologies, and she is humble and honest and good and she can flounder or fly like the rest of us, is human, is human, is just like the rest of us, but funnier, better informed, with cooler art, and more to say, and the fact is that there is a show on The N right now and it's called South of Nowhere that teenagers are turning on their TVs and just seeing it as if this relationship between Spencer and Ashley is just as valid, just as real, just as possible as Donna and David were to us when we were kids, and maybe the finale sucked, I don't know, I didn't see it, but when Tara and I were dissecting the many threads of the confusing ridiculous spectrum that is "Bisexual Identity" and figuring out where did it come from and what do we see and what have we been socialized to do and what is how we feel what comes really, really from the very deep inside core of us, something for us to pull out and believe in and trust as we tumble in and out of beds and hearts and loves and swoon in dark rooms for people who are all wrong for us and overanalyze voice mails with an attention we can never bring, really, to our schoolwork or work-work, to anything that doesn't get us laid or loved, and she said "You know, if South of Nowhere had been on when I was a teenager? That would have blown my mind!" People are turning on their televisions and seeing that hot girls just like me are lesbians and are bisexuals, and, just like Will and Jack and Dawson's-Creek-Jack and Rickie Vasquez and the Queer Eyes and all of the beautiful stylish gay men who have crossed our screen, I think that lesbian and bisexual women have, really, now, actually, arrived, and that's good, and it can only get better from here, because it's changing really fast, because that's what women do, we make things change, and we make it happen fast.

5. Images from the Permanent Collection, Part Three:

Me. Lo. March 06.


Me. Steph. November 06.

Maggie. Me. December 06.

4. NPR's This American Life: Now in Podcast.
I am, at this point, more or less an unbearable person to be around, as I am constantly having anxiety attacks if I am not accomplishing at least three things at once. Walking is one of the things that seems to be particularly wasteful in terms of time, which is why I often read as I walk. Doing laundry also feels spectacularly unproductive, which is when I first started looking into Podcasts to begin with, so that I could do SOMETHING other than just like, fold, and I can't imagine anything better that I could be doing while walking/folding/pretending to listen to you talk than listen to IRA GLASS, who is the LIGHT OF MY LIFE. As of like, a few months ago, you can download This American Life to your ipod, and that, my friends, is real, true, honest, old-fashioned American democracy in action.

3. Images from the Permanent Collection: Part Four

Christina. Haviland. Me. Karen. September 06.

Cameron. Me. Michelle. August 06.

Susan Powter. Haviland. Me. Joy. June 06

Steph. Me. We Have No Idea. September 06.
(as seen in TIME OUT, y'all!)

2.Agent Cameron, In the Flesh, Susie Bright, The "Bigger the Better" Editors at Seal Press, Suspect Thoughts, the very existence of Stephen Barbara, RKB, the Big Bi Survey, nerve.com, blogger, bloggers, myspace, technorati, marie claire, blogrolls, NYCB, the cruise, maasagency, the reading where i met saw shane, marie claire, curbed, gawker, mediabistro, this macbook, and all that shit that rocked my virtual world this year.

1. My BFF, Haviland Stillwell

I just think she's really good as The Factory Girl, that's all.

OurChart.com

OK, I have never posted a blog before in my life simply to transmit a piece of information I have just received to my own audience because it is so exciting, so mind blowing, that it requires their attention and simultaneously does not necessarily reach the intended parties so rapidly as it would if the information was shared right here, right now. So I'm gonna do that.

(P.S. My Re-Cap-View Of Season 3-Episode 5 is on Automatic Straddle right this minute, too.)

From the SHOWTIME website, where, btw, you can see some hot previews that seriously, I think, show a great deal of promise:


THE L WORD ® CREATOR AND EXECUTIVE PRODUCER, ILENE CHAIKEN, TO LAUNCH VENTURE TO EXTEND THE WELL-KNOWN BRAND INTO ONLINE SOCIAL NETWORKING WORLD.

New York, NY -- December 18, 2006 -Ilene Chaiken, creator and executive producer of Showtime Networks' groundbreaking prime time lesbian drama, "The L Word," and one of the television industry's leading pioneers, has partnered with a group of prominent women from the entertainment and technology worlds to form a new company called OurChart.com.

Launching in January, 2007, OurChart.com will be a vibrant, full-featured social network on the Web for lesbians and their friends. It is expected to be the first online social space built entirely to interconnect and engage this community and will feature original content, as well as encourage user-generated content. It will be both a destination and a jumping off point for lesbians on the Internet.

"I wanted to take the experience I have had telling stories on 'The L Word' and expand it to an interactive medium so that women can tell their own stories and share their own interests," said Chaiken.

OurChart's premise is inspired by one of the central story lines in "The L Word": a wall-sized, handwritten white-board "chart" designed to keep track of the various connections, especially the myriad hookups and heartbreaks among the show's many characters. OurChart.com will build a network of women into a real "Chart" in a unique and useful manner to allow users to connect their interests, hobbies, and communities and, if they choose, their love lives.

OurChart founding partners include "The L Word" cast members and accomplished actors, Jennifer Beals who plays Bette Porter, Katherine Moennig who plays Shane and Leisha Hailey who plays Alice. These actors will also contribute to the site by developing content for their fans that reflect their personal interests. "This is an exciting project for us, and a great extension of what our show is about" said Jennifer Beals. "For me, Kate and Leisha, it is a chance to broaden a conversation we started on 'The L Word', and have felt privileged to be a part of - about identity and community and the importance of representation." "I'm excited about this project for the same reasons that my character, Alice, created the Chart - because we all are compelled to, as Alice says, 'reach out from the alienation of modern life' in order to make connections," said Leisha Hailey.

Like hugely popular social networking sites, such as My Space, Facebook and Bebo, OurChart.com will facilitate connections of all kinds, but is aimed directly at gay women, as well as their friends and family. Although there are many lesbian-centered Web sites, discussion groups, classified listings and news outlets, there has never been an online social space that is strategically and conceptually aligned with a franchise phenomenon like "The L Word."

"The L Word" fans will have regular access to the show's creative team, exclusive material from the show, special insights and behind the scenes action on individual episodes. In addition, OurChart will commission original videos, stories and photos from prominent creative collaborators to feature exclusively on OurChart.com. "We hope," said Katherine Moennig, "that a wonderful variety of artists will help make this a home where people can have a great media experience."

The company's senior management team represents some of the most prominent women in the entertainment and technology worlds.

Ilene Chaiken, one of the entertainment industry's most accomplished female entrepreneurs and a leading television producer and writer, will be OurChart CEO. She has received numerous awards for her contribution to the LGBT community, some of which include: the 2006 GLAAD Media Award recognizing "The L Word" for Outstanding Drama Series; the 2005 Artistry Award from Power Up; the 2004 Equality Award from the Human Rights Campaign; and the 2004 Community Role Model Award from the Los Angeles Gay and Lesbian Center.

Founding partner Hilary Rosen will serve as President of OurChart. Rosen is a respected executive with many years of experience in online entertainment. She is the former Chairman and Chief Executive Officer of the Recording Industry Association of America (RIAA), the trade group representing the U.S. sound recording industry, where she served for 17 years before retiring in June 2003. For the last several years, she has served as an advisor to some of the industry's leading media companies. Rosen has also been an LGBT political leader for many years in Washington, D.C.

"Our top priority is that users find a welcoming environment when they visit OurChart.com," said Rosen. "It will also present marketers with a great opportunity to reach a consumer market that is targeted, financially independent and loyal," said Rosen.

Beth Callaghan, also a founding partner, will be Chief Operating Officer. Callaghan has served as Senior Director of Network Programming, Senior Director of Portal Operations and Editor-in-Chief of PlanetOut Inc., the largest gay and lesbian site on the Web.

OurChart.com has been formed as a joint venture with Showtime Networks Inc. "The launch of OurChart.com speaks to the many opportunities that exist now to expand the presence of a show beyond the traditional viewing experience," said Matthew C. Blank, Chairman and CEO of Showtime Networks. "It will bring the world of 'The L Word' to a whole new audience of fans."

Top Ten Books of 2006: Some of Which I Have Actually Read

It's been suggested, even assumed, that I should have an opinion on the top 10 books of the year. Really, though, I mean, obviously my true talents lie in other areas of ranking and filing: e.g., Top Ten Relationships I've had with Animals That Didn't Involve Me Kicking Them in the Face and Top Ten Appearances by Flannel Shirts in Marie's Videos from Middle School. (See the Sunday Top Ten label for a complete archive of all the things I've endorsed thus far).

I mean, I'm obviously really into reading, and I have read about ten million books this year (Actually, 39. I keep track), but most of them weren't published this year, and I think that's part of the whole "Best of 06" thing. Tough break, Mrs. Dalloway.

See, I don't ever buy books in hardcover. (Except for Veronica,¹ Fun Home² and The Year of Magical Thinking³). Why? Because they are : 1. Expensive, 2. Heavy. So if I'm gonna read a new book, it better be: 1. The kind that comes out in paperback only, like the Gossip Girl series or a Vintage Contemporary thing, 2. A proof I somehow get for free. This happens more than you might think.

Anyhow I gave it a shot.

TOP TEN BOOKS OF 2006: SOME OF WHICH I HAVE ACTUALLY READ.

10. THE ROAD, by CORMAC MCCARTHY: I feel like this is the book to pledge support for if you want to sound particularly literary, without rousing opposition from people that are too hip to be hipsters (you know, the anti-Eggers and anti-Safran-Foer boys) and possibly encouraging supportive nods from Smart People. Basically everyone is digging this book. I don't think I'll read it in paperback either though, it sounds like a drag. "In this landscape, an unnamed man and his young son journey down a road to get to the sea." Yawn.


9. I AM NOT MYSELF THESE DAYS, by JOSH KILMER-PURCELL: Those smarties at Harper Perennial know that the readers of memoirs like this one (the story of an ex-drag queen's debauched relationship with large quantities of vodka and his crack-addled manic "escort" boyfriend) did not receive 12.5 bazillion dollar bonuses from Goldman-Sachs this year, and thus, HP released this gem on paperback from the get-go. So yes indeed, I read it!⁴ JKP is like Jay McInerney if Jay McInerney was a gay drag queen who had written a good book in 2006 (trivia: Bright Lights Big City, one of my favorite books ever, also forewent the hardcover run when it was published in 1984, opting for a straight-to-paperback release that clearly worked out well for everybody, e.g., me), what with "coming to" in his ad agency meetings, gazing with intent confusion at storyboards he can "say with relative confidence" he had something to do with and quipping that "Blackouts can be fun if approached with the right mindset."

Also this is just you know, perfect:

"I've explained this a million times, Ma." I sigh. "I don't want to be a woman. Transsexuals are the ones who feel trapped in someone else's body or whatever. I'm a drag queen. I'm a celebrity trapped in a normal person's body."

He also read at In the Flesh and Lo and I went to see him read at the Astor Place Barnes + Noble, where he was really cute and he made us both laugh and feel happy for a minute.


8. MADEA'S UNIHIBITED COMMENTARIES ON LOVE AND LIFE: DON'T MAKE A BLACK WOMAN TAKE OFF HER EARRINGS, by TYLER PERRY:
Obviously I would be ignorant to not include the winner of the 2006 Quill Awards. The Quills, for those of you that missed the grand ceremony this year, is a Barnes + Noble sponsored event, described on their website like this: "The Quills, an initiative launched with the support of Reed Business Information, is designed to be an industry qualified "consumers choice" awards program for books, honoring the current titles readers deem most entertaining and enlightening." Sort of like when Blockbuster started their own award show, and I went in and voted for Leonardo DiCaprio about 10,000 times, 'cause they had this little voting machine right there at the store, and I went to the store every day because I had no friends. ⁵


7. FUN HOME, by ALISON BECHDEL: She's careful and ghostly and humble and wry and mind-blowingly smart, all about the details and the investigation and the romance and the attention we bring to that back-of-the-head-gut-hurt stuff. Honestly, it's worth way more than $19.95.¹ That's so laughably little, I mean, I could get an issue of some faux-European-graphic-arts magazine for more than that, and the pictures wouldn't be one-tenth as perfect.

Everyone else loved it too, which means that not only do I have my finger on the pulse of my body to check for an anxiety attack but I have my finger on the pulse of: 1. our generation, 2. the literati.

6. EVERYTHING ELSE IN THE WORLD, by STEPHEN DUNN (poems): There aren't many things in the world that you can count on to be good every time. But Steve-O, I count on you. If this book (which I haven't read...YET) is anything like your other books (and I am guessing that it is), it's probably the most beautiful thing ever. Krista, get this for me, stat. You are the only person I know who not only tracks SD's release dates but then spends the planned release date of every new book scouring every bookstore in the city to procure hardcover copies for everyone you love enough to pass this gift onto them, and you can't do this for me from New Haven. Krista, drop out. Yale Shmale. Get me some poems.

5. THE EMPEROR'S CHILDREN, by CLAIRE MESSUD:. When I was driving to the airport this morning and listening to my mother's Sirius Satellite Radio, Diane Rehm was interviewing this woman Claire Messud on NPR Now, and I was way into it. Also I've done some background research and discovered she's pretty much riding the pre-backlash wave of consensual acclaim right now, though my primo source for literary perspective, bookslut, points out that "If I ever met any of the characters at a dinner party, I would have to get so drunk that my facial muscles were immobilized in order to keep from rolling my eyes at everything they said," which is how I feel about a lot of my friends, who I imagine bear more than a passing similarity to the characters in this book. (Side note: I think it's weird that it's called "Sirius" radio. Mom pronounced it "Serious," which I assumed was the wrong way to pronounce it, but maybe not.

Marie: Is that how you pronounce it? Like "Serious"? Don't you get it confused with like, "serious" the adjective?
Mom: Yeah, that's how you say it, I think. Serious.
Marie: Does "Sirius" mean something?
Lewis: Yeah, it's a Greek God, I think.
Marie: The Greek God of what?
Lewis: The Greek God of Satellite Radio.

(36 hours later)

Mom: Isn't that the name of a constellation? Sirius? Like "Sirius Minor" and "Sirius Major"?)

This book is about three Brown graduates who are all thirty years old and somewhat lost, like "What should I do with my life?" sort of stuff. I mean, hm, usually I prefer books I can relate to like A Very Hungry Caterpillar, or The Illiad, but every now and then I like to know what's going on in the rest of the world, get a glimpse into another culture and way of life. How the kids feel, etc.

4.WHAT IS THE WHAT, by DAVE EGGERS: Look haterhipsters, I fucking love David Eggers. Jake gave me A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius in the summer of '99, before (to the best of my knowledge) it hit the bestseller list. I hadn't heard of it. But Jake knew I'd like it because:
1. It's funny, and I found all that formatting nonsense to be absolutely delightful, really, I thought it was great.
2. It discusses the direct aftermath of the tragic and untimely death of one's parents (and as I had freshly experienced the tragic and untimely death of my parent I therefore found the subject matter quite relevant and touching, etc)
3. It includes a detailed section on auditioning for The Real World, which at the time was def. one of my top five television programs.

Lewis and I saw his reading and we both LOLed. So, whatevs, backlash-mongers. Go drink your Haterade with Ariel Levy.

I probably won't read this book though, it looks boring.

3.GOSSIP GIRL 10: WOULD I LIE TO YOU, by "CECILY VON ZIEGESAR" AKA ALLOY, INC.: These books are asinine/amazing. There are so many things wrong with this series, but how can love be wrong when it feels so right? Better than smoking crack and getting a foot rub on a Sunday afternoon. (almost)




2.TWIGHLIGHT OF THE SUPERHEROES, by DEBORAH EISENBERG: Basically everyone who I have any respect for in the universe is saying that this book is good. So, I'm going to plug it as I wait for it's January 27th paperback release date. Also I am resisting the overwhelming urge to put DIRTY BLONDE: THE DIARIES OF COURTNEY LOVE on this list just because I think it would be funny. To me. I actually just LOLed a little in my mouth.

1.THE PARIS REVIEW INTERVIEWS: The first person to buy me this book gets to marry me. I am a decent cook and I promise to always keep my svelte figure.

The nice thing about this book, besides the graphically pleasing cover art, is that we already know it is good. Because it's "The Paris Review," which like, doesn't even take unsolicited submissions. It's like if "The N" put out a DVD of Degrassi's best moments, you would know it would be good too, because Degrassi Goes There.






FYI: these are the best books I read this year, and, when appropriate, who I owe the endorsement or the physical book itself to....
Shockproof Sydney Skate, by Mary Jane Meeker (cameron!)
Prep, by Curtis Sittinfeld
Soft Maniacs, by Maggie Estep (steph!)
The Year of Magical Thinking, by Joan Didion (krista!)
Surface Tension (essays), ed. by Meg Daley
Bastard out of Carolina, Dorothy Allison (lo!)
Wasted, Marya Hornbacher
Two Girls, Fat and Thin, Mary Gaitskill
Things You Should Know, AM Homes
Appetites, Caroline Knapp
Bookmark Now, (essays), ed. Kevin Smokler

¹ Not purchased with actual money though, purchased with Amazon.com gift certificate, a blessing bestowed upon those of us with elephantine balances on our Amazon.com Visa cards.
² Ditto.
³ The Strand--although initially I borrowed it from Krista, who did buy it in hardcover. Then I wanted my own copy and saw it there and snatched it like a hot potato.
⁴ Honestly, I didn't have to buy this one either; Lo told me to read it and lent me her copy, and then because I wanted my own copy, Cameron gave me one that Jay had got at the Book Fair.
⁵ Actually, I did, but I just liked movies better.

Sunday Top 10: I Don't Wanna Grow Up, I'm a City-Type Kid

It is a widely believed truth that New York City is a hotbed of crack-whores, crack-dealers, crazy liberals, baristas like Rachel Green and hopeless aspirants. I think this is why Non-New-Yorkers cut their New-York-dwelling relatives (usually the black sheep or the dark horse of the family, depending on their present level of breakout success) a little bit of slack in terms of becoming a grown-up. No one is like "Where is your house?" because they all know that there are no houses in New York, except in Prospect Heights and some parts of Astoria, and I don't know if you can own those houses anyhow, unless you're Heath Ledger. I think the only New Yorkers on TV that have houses are those annoying people in "King of Queens," which I saw for the first time EVER last night at my Mom's house, because there was "nothing else on," which is the number-one selection criteria for television programs, apparently.

While on my vacation in the Midwest, which is far from over which means I have five more days to lose my mind and my quads from city-withdrawal, gym-withdrawal (and Haviland-withdrawal) these are some things I have noticed that people do in other places that I do not do. Many of these things are "grown-up" things. I would like to add that I am clearly not a grown up. I would incorporate this into my New Years Resolution, but I'm pretty sure that my immaturity is in fact charming, some might say seductive.

TOP TEN THINGS THEY ARE BETTER AT OUT HERE IN THE HEARTLAND, OR WHY NEW YORK CITY IS STILL A PLACE FOR THE VERY RICH AND THE VERY YOUNG (AND OBVS, I AM NOT VERY RICH)

10. Making Babies

My cousin is pregnant, which means she will be giving birth to another human person in April. This seems funny to me because I still eat push-pops, string cheese and peanut-butter-crackers almost every day. (Note: I eat the peanut butter crackers that come in 8-packs and are actually orange.) I think if I had a baby, I'd be good at relating to it because we would have a lot in common, like needing a lot of attention but usually crying and being semi-violent when we actually get some.

9. Having a "Pension":

What is a pension? The thing is, it sounds bad because it sounds like "prison" and like "penitentiary" mixed up, and both of those things involve shackles and anal penalties for soap-droppers.

"I was looking at the pension I've earned from my job and I realized if I cashed it in right now, I could probably get myself a pretty decent meal at McDonalds."
-My Cousin

I was looking at my wallet and realized I could probably buy myself and most of my close friends a decent meal at McDonalds, so I'm ahead of the game anyhow. (Note: I don't have very many close friends)

8. Buying a House:

Sometimes I imagine that Haviland will buy an apartment and let me live there in exchange for like, making salads and getting the mail?

7. Owning a Car:

I remember when I used to have a car that actually belonged to me. You know, like, an "asset." (See photo of my old Lexus) What happened? I sold it to move to New York City, and now I have a Metro-Card and feet. Sometimes I kiss ES-300s that I see on the street. Like, on the hood sort of? I know that sounds weird and creepy, and maybe it is, but I think whatever gets you through the night is alright.

My brother owns a car that uses diesel. That's so hard core I can't even like, speak of it.

6. Getting Married

Seriously, I know that many members of the fam think I am a 'Career Girl' (har. har) and therefore statistically unlikely to find a mate, but like I said, I wanna have a baby some day. (And as far as mate-finding goes, I think "fear of emotional intimacy" is a more likely roadblock in this area, but whatevs). And I am not going to be the only one changing that baby's diapers and driving it to all of it's after-school activities in my hypothetical Lexus RX 350. Also I would like to have more back-rubs in my life than I do at present, and I think a husband or wife could do that for me.

5. Earning a "Salary":

I'm pretty sure this is overrated. I like to live on the edge. It keeps me on my toes.

4. Bathroom Backstock:

The bathroom of a twentysomething's NYC apartment is generally stocked with only the absolute necessities, divided by tenant. (Necessities include things like $50.00 face cream, Xanax and overpriced M.A.C foundation, but still ...) Rarely will a roommate have an entire cabinet filled with things they do not need immediately, especially because you can always go to the deli next door if you run out of something. They won't have what you need, but the possibility is there, and obviously you wouldn't be living in NYC in the first place if you believed that success was more important than the possibility of success.

Me:"So it has been suggested that I could save time in my life, like the time I spend going to Duane Reade every day, if I buy bigger sizes of shampoo and stuff. Like the jumbo sized ones. But I never do that, I mean one they are heavy, and two they are expensive."
Nat: "Oh, I never do that. Who can afford all of that at once?"
Me: "Oh good. Me neither! I mean, I know they are cheaper in the long run, but sometimes you've only got five dollars--"
Nat:"Um, I showered at the gym every day for two months because I couldn't even afford my usual travel-sized shampoos. But obviously I justified spending money on the gym membership itself."
Me: "Um, obviously."

When I go to my Mom's and to my other relatives, I find the back-stock of necessities like Tylenol, toilet paper, toothbrushes (like, they buy them in multi-packs!) and other things (that they don't even use!!) like tampons and hair-brushes. They have things in there from like, three years ago. I have lived in three different apartments in the last year, needless to say my hair gel has not made every trip.

3. Fully-Equipped Kitchens:

Likewise, kitchens tend to contain "basics" like spices, flour, knives, pots and pans of various sizes, dishes shaped for specific baked goods and various implements for wrapping and storing leftover food. Most NYC kitchens seem to contain a mishmash of various pots, Woks, Foreman Grills and utensils left behind by previous roommates and the lovely equipment brought for your temporary enjoyment by various subletters, combined with the equipment of present roommates, which is often paltry but usually involves 2-4 wine openers and a peppermill.

Also: a dishwasher. I need one of those.

2. Family Values:

Relative: "So was your friend totally annoyed by you being sick while you were staying at her place?"
Me: "Oh no, he was really sweet about it, actually."
Relative: "Oh, it was a he?"
Me: "Yeah, yeah, a he."
Relative: "Oh, so it was like, your boyfriend?"
Me: "Oh, no, I don't have a boyfriend."
(awkward pause)

1. Um, but Time said I was the Man of the Goddamn Year, Bitches!

There is nothing like the questions: "What is a blog?," "What is a literary agent?," "What is you-tube?" or "What is my-space?" to make my life feel 95% irrelevant. Which I realize that it is, but I need something to fill all the time I'm not spending making babies, meeting husbands/life partners, buying Fiesta Ware, driving my non-existent car, planning my clearly not-happening retirement, or cashing in my pension plan.



I am in Ohio. All my joints hurt from the fibromyalgia that I can't tame by exercising, so I took a Vicodin instead. My joints still hurt, but I feel a little woozy.

Maybe I need another Vicodin. My aunt has so many wireless servers in her 'hood, it's like Christmas.

OMG IT IS CHRISTMAS Y'ALL!!!

What's Worse, the Stomach Flu or Dial-up? Or both at once?

One of the differences between New York City and suburban Detroit is that people are not piled all up on top of each other, sharing their wireless service like tuberculosis. That means that not only am I attempting to update my blog from a machine that is not my pet Sparky the MacBook, but I am doing so from my Mother's "computer," using dial-up, via America Online which apparently still exists. I tried to sign on under my old screen name 'R Pop Tart' but I forgot the password. I can't remember who I had a crush on then.

"This might be more blog-worthy than Greyhound"
-Carl, after my 45th trip to the bathroom to wretch up my intestines, followed by chills, hot/cold flashes, and other symptoms that I am fairly sure are related to either SARS, anthrax, the West Nile Virus or Meningitis.

Thus, I am actually NOT in Ohio.

I am in my sweatpants, eating cup-o-soup, and I've spent the entire day in various poses of misery. Maybe Jesus is punishing me for coveting Emmit Honeycutt. I've been told that Christmas cookies aren't going to be good for my stomach but I can't help myself. Also I felt that perhaps around 2pm I was completely out of body fat and I felt very cold. So I'm trying to bring sexy back, via sugar cookies, which so far are going down better than the two sips of water I dared to ingest 12 hours ago.

But really how could I feel wretched sitting at this lovely desk.

To my right we have a variety of social-work and psychological therapy type literature, such as "choices & consequences," "paths to recovery" and "facing the shadow." Also I see a back-issue stockpile of Real Simple magazine and seven single-serving sized packets of McDonalds grape jam. Yes that's right, grape jam. I also find this a bit perplexing, though perhaps it is somehow related to the 'Anatomy Coloring Book,' which I am too weak to retrieve. There is a box labeled 'Faith.' Again, my weak limbs are overruling my perverse curiosity in this particular matter.

In front of me is a stunning photograph of Lewis and I dressed like monks or something in a sadistic Disneyworld photo shoot re-creation of Fanastia. I have a bucket in my hands like Little Red Riding Hood and Lewis has a wand. There's also a photo Alina and I took with the Mall Santa Claus, circa high school I think. Both of thse photos are very romantic and employ pleasent cultural figures (Mickey Mouse, Santa Claus), which is nice, right? (who am I? where am i? my head hurts. my stomach hurts. Haaavvvilanndddd) Also there are some motivaitonal greeting cards that claim the brightest light you can hope to see is the one I give to you when I smile. Also May success wash over me with everything I do, etc.

To my left we have "Robert's Rules of Lesbian Living," which include:
-Life is a process. Lesbian life is the process of processing the process.
-It is not against any written lesbian law to wear panty hose. They just seem silly under your softball uniform.

Either I am freezing or dying.

The true Christmas miracle is that Carl was a sweetheart the whole time I was sick although he missed the great chance to drive me to Ohio this morning as I was unable to walk or move. And although his car did not have heat, it was not particularly unpleasent as we drove from my Mom's place to his place, and the no-shock thing was kinda like riding a really dangerous roller coaster.

They don't get "The N," which means I don't know what happened with Spashley tonight. The agony, the absolute agony!

No photos. You have no clue how long it took just to load the 'create a post' page.

I've decided that when I get married, i want krista and natalie and haviland and ingrid to be my bridesmaids and I want Lewis to be my ring bearer and I want him to wear a monkey suit. I think that would be really funny. You know, a monkey at a wedding?

Merry F***in Christmas, or "I Bet SARS is Blog-Worthy, Too."

This is what I look like as of yesterday. This is Exhibit A ("The victim looked stable and content in a dashing crimson sweater only days before the incident!") for when I am in court testifying about the attempted assault that will take place on the Greyhound Bus in Cincinnati this upcoming Saturday. Also notice the beaming smile. I won't be smiling on Saturday. Don't let that boggle you. I know you've played PhotoHunt, and I know you've played it after four tequilla shots.

So.

Every holiday season, my brother and I make like Moses and leave the earnest burning oil of our Mother's Hannukah menorah in Michigan and head South. Unlike Moses and his Jewish friends, we usually do this in a car, and also unlike Moses we do not have to deal with false idols (though we've had some heated arguments about music, e.g., my desire for most of the late 90s to listen to either a sad emo boy or a lesbian folk singer at all times) or parting the red sea (though we once skidded on black ice outside of Bowling Green and almost died). Also we are not going to the promised land, we are just going to Gold Star Chili. I mean, to see the Christian side of our family, like our Grandparents, and have wholesome feelings in the deepest pits of our charred souls.

This year we face a challenge, and that challenge is that Lewis is driving up to Ohio from NOLA. I could call this a "betrayal of dire consequence" but I won't.

I am flying into Detroit on Friday morning, where my Moms live, and as I don't have a car (or, at this point, a drivers license, though I hope to acquire one at the Royal Oak DMV on Friday), I don't know how the fuck I am going to get to Ohio.

What I really want to talk about is how this relates to abuse of the semi-ironic term "blog-worthy," which I employ with the same (relatively) witty sarcasm that I use for terms like "omg" and "LOL really." I don't know if those are terms so much as paradigms.

Thus far, the "blog" hasn't caused me much harm, aside from time suckage: no, I haven't been "outed" at work or punished for things I've said or, even, had aforementioned Ohio family stumble upon this blog and wonder if I'm serious about the whole 'bi thing,' nor has anyone told me that I suck (not including my anonymous friend, who thinks I am a dirty whore, a dirty bitch, and a dirty slut, but I think he kinda likes me that way, so whatever rolls your dice, dude) BUT now my mother has co-opted my language for her own sinister desires.

Exhibit B (selections of e-mails exchanged on Dec. 18th)

From: Lewis
To: Me and Mom.

1. I'll be driving to Ohio from NOLA on the 23rd. Michigan 25th or 26th
2. May I suggest you "Go Greyhound" It could be "blogworthy" as the kids say.


From: Me
To: Lewis and Mom

Uh-oh,
Mom how I am going to get to Ohio, even if I do have a license? Can I borrow your car? I am not going Greyhound. I'll get killed.
also, the tickets are SIXTY BUCKS!! which is more than i will ever spend to be sexually harassed for.....um....SIX HOURS.


From: Mom
To: me and Lewis.

Marie ........
I agree with Lewis, a Greyhound trip would definetly be blog-worthy.

and for gosh sakes, you take the subway at all hours in a very crime-infested city and lived in Spanish Harlem. and you wait in lobbies of community mental and medical health ..... you've already dealt with and been exposed to more then any Greyhound trip could possibly provide.

Some things:

1. I bet that giving away all of my things for a life on the streets, and by "streets" I mean inside my largest fresh direct box or perhaps 2-3 taped together, which I will set on the corner of 180th and Somethin' Awful, injecting myself with needles i find on the "crime-infested' streets and paying for my Popeye's chicken habit by hooking (dressed in my Halloween costume and a warm scarf) would be pretty effin blog-worthy too, but you don't see my ass in a box on the street do you? No you don't.

Also, things like going to Iraq or going to a tornado are examples of things that people do for "news-worthy" stories. However those people get paid.

News=information someone pays you to share
Blog=information no-one pays you to share.

2. I do not take the subway at all hours. Only hours before midnight, or one a.m. Whatevs. Def. not shy of springing for a cab though.

3. While in East Harlem, I started dressing like a boy and walking like a boy so that I wouldn't get harassed and/or assaulted (the former happened constantly, especially in Snow Bunny Outfit '04, which involved pink yoga pants and a puffy white coat and was the last time I wore tight pants north of 110th), which worked pretty well. I also felt protected when I started spending almost 75% of my time-at-home-in-Sparlem with my dear friend the 6'4 slightly-crazy male model, house-builder and club bouncer who drove a monster truck disguised as a big-ass red jeep and knew everyone in the 'hood. Including the drug dealers. So where is that bouncer now? New Jersey.

4. New York City has the lowest crime rate of any major U.S City.

5. During the summer of 2005, Krista and I made a very poor choice to travel from Medford, Oregon to Denver, Colorado on a Greyhound. I've taken Greyhounds before from Ann Arbor to Interlochen (with friends, every time), but never had I truly felt the authentic Greyhound experience that we discovered in the Wild West. In fact, this trip was so pleasurable that, after subsisting on no sleep, eating only processed foods that come in plastic bags (e.g., Combos, M n'Ms, Twizzlers, Wheat Thins, Welch's fruit snacks) and living through a ten-hour layover in Salt Lake City (during which we had to sit on our suitcases and not move, just wait, while people had Jerry Springery fights and drank too much Sprite) and of course, spending time on the bus itself, which was completely full of people who probably collectively could not have mustered up an entire set of teeth, we actually got in a semi-physical squabble.

Because Krista is my heart, obviously you can imagine the kind of stress we were under for this to happen.

Phone conversation in Colorado, at some stop where we split up to go get supplies for the next few hours (including a small pillow we passed back and forth and more bags of junk to cram down our pie-holes):

Me: Krista, I can't hear you.
Krista: I can't hear anything you're saying.
Me: Can you hear me now?
Krista: Goddamit Marie, why don't you get a new phone service? I CAN NEVER HEAR YOU!
Me: Are you yelling at ME about Sprint PCS' failure to provide a suitable coverage within it's wireless network?!!!!
(Krista hangs up)

The passengers were a rowdy bunch, all looking to make friends, and somewhere between California and Colorado, a debate over the merits of The DaVinci Code resulted in several passengers rising from their seats to yell at one another (while drinking beer out of paper bags). I mention this because...

Despite the apparent plethora of Dan Brown fans on our trip, a passenger (who, being without a shirt of his own, was leasing shirts from fellow travelers for the duration of their journey and, when the shirt-donator got off, finding a new traveler to lend him a shirt) asked Krista and I if we were students.

"No," we said, looking confused.

"Ah," he nodded. "I thought you were."

(Krista attempts to deliver a genuine smile that comes off as a pained grimace)

He continued: "Cause you're both--you know--readin'."

(pause as we look at our books, and then at each other, and then up at him)

"Um," I responded. "We just uh, like reading."

(He looks at us with that look I used to get when I told strangers "I go to boarding school.")

This is the only surviving photograph from this expedition, and I got it from my camera phone. I don't know where we are, probably somewhere between nowhere and purgatory.

People kept staring at Krista and I, because we didn't look like the other people on the bus because we were wearing clean clothes. At first, at least. We replenished with the Hanes wifebeater 3-packs because that's how we roll. By the time I got to Chicago, I probably smelled like Kools with a dash of Wal-Mart.

UPDATE: Carl is taking me to Toledo, and my aunt will pick me up there. HOLLA.

Anyhow, so parents, you should know that making your kids miserable is not blogworthy, it's probably better for like, youtube, except that on greyhound someone would fo-sho steal your camera.