Friday, October 30, 2009
Anyways, in my teens I frequented a little club here in Hollywood by the name of Helter Skelter (I've got to dig up all those old club flyers). Perhaps you remember it. Perhaps we shared a moment in the coat room together. Perhaps you danced, to music, that even then was 10 years old. Perhaps you took some drugs. Perhaps you were just misunderstood. I loved that club. In honor of this day, the 30th of October...let's take a walk down memory lane, or I should say, my memory lane. I loved these songs. My teenage self danced my little black heart out to them. Perhaps you should dance to one of them, in your bedroom, dressed in black. Go on, dance your little black heart out.
Thursday, October 29, 2009
As most of you know, it's almost Halloween- everyone's favorite time of year to dress up, perhaps don a mask and pretend to be someone else. I have not really dressed up for Halloween since Junior High, with a couple of lame exceptions. Maybe that's because huge chunks of my life were lived undercover. By undercover, I mean that I raced through days pretending to be someone I was not. I pretended to be the polite child, the good student, the cheerleader, the actress, the equestrian, the faithful girlfriend, the trustworthy daughter, the exemplary employee, the generous lover, the cold-hearted bitch, the fiancee, and sometimes, the one who didn't care.
Maybe after all of that "dressing up," I just didn't have it in me to pretend to be someone else dressing up as yet another person. Every year at this time, it crosses my mind. I think "Maybe I should dress up this year, maybe I should come up with something really clever." And, then, I do nothing. I love masks and disguises, truth be told, but they really only appeal to me when it's least expected.
Are you dressing up this year? Are you more like you on Halloween? If you are a woman, do you like to be slutty fill-in-the-blank? Do you have the perfect costume figured out?
Eh, maybe next year.
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
When I was in Junior High and High School....there were oh so many sides to me. On one of those sides was my love for The Virgin Prunes. I loved them for being kooky and disturbing and for singing songs that spoke to my 14/15/16 year old kooky and disturbing self. I even developed a crush on a boy solely because of his love for them. They broke up years before I even knew they existed. Although it was the late 80s, in my mind it was still 1977....in some ways it still is. Live the dream. Gavin Friday are you still out there somewhere?
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Remember Michigan J. Frog? I do. I constructed a whole theory once about certain men and the vain hope that they may in fact be a Michigan Frog. Allow me to explain. Ladies, have you known those guys who are somewhat quiet, usually very cute, ooze a certain leaky sexual energy? Have you had that feeling- "I bet he is a secret genius, super talented and witty?" You think to yourself, maybe he's like Michigan J. Frog, hiding his talent and wit from the world- at some point, it will be revealed to me! I'm gonna be the one to discover this hidden gem!
But....No. He's not. The truth is he's just not very bright. What seems all mysterious and pensive is just an empty head. It's always such a disappointment. There's nothing worse for me than a dumb dude.
Earlier, I was chatting with a friend who confessed his secret lust for Ivana Trump. He recalled a magazine cover she was on (maybe circa 1995)- as he described it- all shiny gold and cleavage. Being the awesome friend that I am, I told him I would find this mystery magazine. Perhaps I shall present it at Christmas. Anywayzzzzz, in my search for this magazine cover on the interweb, I came upon IvanaTrump.com. I am slightly obsessed with her now. It's like she stepped right out of Dynasty and into my cyber travels. (yeah I puked in my mouth a little too)
I have learned some things about Ivana-
1. She has a Masters Degree in Physical Education and Languages.
2. She submitted a recipe for Miss Piggy's cookbook.
3. She has written two fiction books: For Love Alone and Free To Love and one non-fiction book: The Best Is Yet To Come.
4. Apparently, she writes a column for Globe magazine! What? It's called Ask Ivana. Perhaps, we are kindred spirits.
5. In addition to her Great Barrier Reef condo project, she also sells perfume and jewelry.
Alright, I need to go find that magazine, so I can buy an old copy and fulfill my buddy's masturbatory fantasy.
Monday, October 26, 2009
Sometimes I fear that I have inadvertently stepped into a career as a ruiner, or maybe a ruinist. No, I do not speak of the ruins of ancient civilizations. I mean that I tend to ruin things. I have ruined days, ruined experiences, ruined many many relationships. I have done a lot of ruining. I don't always know what compels me to behave in the manner of someone who wants to ruin things. I don't set out to destroy things, to push people away, or to run away from happiness. I would like to think that I have changed, grown, moved beyond all small sorts of destructive actions. Then, I am reminded that I still have a ways to go. If I have ruined something for you, I am sorry. I would also like to take this opportunity, to apologize in advance for any future ruining I may participate in.
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Yesterday, I saw Where the Wild Things Are. I loved it. It seems that the majority of people I know did not. Their feelings about it ranged from boredom to hatred. There is a clear disconnect between myself and most people I know. I can tell you this. I watched the film with a 6 year old boy. He raged with the wild things, he connected to the loneliness and the desire for love, he cried with their pain, he longed for their "pile." He got it. He was not bored. He was amused, delighted and clearly moved, as was I. For us it was not long, it was not too abstract, it was the furthest thing from boring. Perhaps 6 year old boys have attention spans that far exceed those of the average adult.
People have said that it was nothing like the book. For me, it expanded upon exactly what the book made me feel as a child. The book left a lot unsaid. I believe that this film said a lot, and what was said accurately echoes the spirit of the book. As children and as adults, many of us have felt like wild things ourselves. I surely have. If you haven't, feel free to delete me from your address book.
Friday, October 23, 2009
It's Friday. It's October. It's 2009. I feel something in the air. Don't you? I once believed that someone had made a voodoo doll in my likeness. There are people somewhere making magic. There are people somewhere casting spells. There are people somewhere lifting curses. There is someone somewhere thinking of you. Would you say they are thinking good thoughts or bad thoughts?
Thursday, October 22, 2009
The other day when I was plastered to a couch, sick, I passed the time by watching many many episodes of Law & Order (in all its various incarnations). I happened to catch an episode of Law & Order Special Victims Unit, titled "Avatar." It basically centered around a kidnapping that was spawned from a virtual game world creeper. This sort of "gaming" has always freaked me out. I just don't get it, especially the whole sex part. It's not even like watching pornography- these are computer generated avatars simulating, well, everything.
Then, this morning, my NY times home page featured an article about people spending money in virtual worlds, despite the recession. What????!!!! I am further baffled. There are tons of people, all over the world, spending real money to buy stuff for their avatars. There is something seriously wrong here. You're gonna pay for a lap dance or a pair of shoes for your computer????? Who are these people? I must know someone out there that does this. Who are you? I am dying to know how/why you do this.
Further investigation of the matter unearthed more and more fascinating information. This headline really caught me: "Angry online divorcee 'kills' virtual ex-hubby." MSNBC had several articles on the subject, like "Virtual sex software spawns lawsuit" and
"Is a virtual affair real-world infidelity?"
I can think of a million better ways to spend my time and money, not the least of which is actually experiencing fun stuff in real life! Now, if you are one of these virtual lovers, please drop me a line and tell me wtf is up.
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
It astonishes me how infrequently some people read and the Internet has not helped matters. A good book is like word porn. Nothing, and I mean nothing, turns me on more than the written language. When was the last time you read a book? Maybe you should read one of these....The Tin Drum by Gunter Grass, Raymond Radiguet's Le Diable au Corps (Devil in the Flesh), Dorothy Parker's Enough Rope, or J.D. Salinger's Raise High the Roof Beam, Carpenters and Seymour: An Introduction. I think you might enjoy one of them-merely a suggestion.
Remember Pat From SNL? I met one this past weekend- a "Pat." This goes way beyond a drag king look...I spent the whole time staring into the depths of her/his eyes, trying to discern a gender. I am usually really good at it....but this one had me stumped, and of course, I never caught the name!!!! The thing that blew me away the most in this individual was the seeming obliviousness to the awkward posture of everyone else, marked like a question mark on our foreheads. This reminds me, have I ever told you about the boy I went on a date with in high school, who turned out to be a girl? That story is for another day.
and for no reason, other than my boredom...
Sometimes, it royally sucks to be stuck in a public place, listening to someone else's inane conversation. This morning, I happened to be at JFK, waiting for my flight. Let me back up by saying that I have been a bit under the weather the past 2 days, and this morning woke up feeling worse, not better. So, there I sat, with my sore throat, my missing voice, and low-grade general nausea. The section near my gate was crowded, but I managed to find a seat. Too nauseous to do anything other than play Solitaire on my iPhone and sip my tea, I became unintentionally engrossed in the conversation of the loud people sitting behind me.
These 4 people engaged in a heated debate, for 45 minutes!!!!, over hot dogs and malt balls. They argued over what the best hot dog brands were, how many they can eat, what region of the country boasts the tastiest franks. They each felt it necessary to go into detail about the taste, snap and meatiness of different variations. At 8 am, with a queasy stomach, this was like being trapped in a hell. I felt too weak to leave, and was also somewhat drawn in, to the stupid banter. My ears were like looky-loo eyes watching a car crash.
Then, when I thought the grossness had reached its peak, they introduced the topic of malt balls. Malt balls? Really? This is a popular topic of conversation? It was introduced by a woman who proudly stated that she enjoys eating malt balls with her hot dog. Puke. I am not a big fan of malt balls to begin with, but the idea of crunching on them with a fucking hot dog was too much. I wanted to turn around and say, "why don't you smear some mayonnaise (barf) on them too!"
Alright, enough of my stupid rant. Sadly, the experience is still haunting me from 35,000 feet. Please, people of the world, if you're gonna be gross, can you keep it to a whisper?
hot dog dogs