…when the MUSIC'S over…

Today marks the 25th anniversary of MTV.

I remember staying up with my siblings to watch the first night of MTV and how exciting and breakthrough that moment was. From there in out, our house was an MTV house, watching groundbreaking moments happening all over the world in music. How else, besides buying an entire album of bands you were otherwise unfamiliar with, would anyone have seen the likes of half of what became popular? For instance, I became a HUGE British pop fan and had Banarama, Fun Boy Three among others in my record collection. I wouldn't have had any clue who these people were without MTV.

And then of course, besides my love of hair bands, was my deep, forever love of Duran Duran. Watching their videos made there songs even better since, of course, they weren't bad to look at (JOHN TAYLOR .. JOHN TAYLOR).

Where else would kids that were into Madonna learned to follow ALL of her million looks over the years??

Here are some other time-lines from the Chicago Tribune's RED EYE:

Thriller"
Michael Jackson's first "event" video debuted on Dec. 2, 1983. It was a 14-minute movie with Vincent Price and other frightful creatures that elevated music videos to an art form. Back in March 1983, Jackson's "Billie Jean" was the first video from a black artist to air on MTV.

Madonna
Madonna became a superstar when she humped her wedding veil onstage while performing "Like a Virgin" at the first Video Music Awards in 1984. In 2003, even though her "American Life" album flopped, she showed she wasn't going down without a fight. She planted lip locks on both Britney Spears and Christina Aguilera during the 20th VMAs, making front pages everywhere.

College video
Beginning in 1986, "120 Minutes" became MTV's version of college radio, giving people who preferred their music edgier than Lionel Richie or Debbie Gibson alternative artists such as The Pixies, The Cure, Psychedelic Furs and Echo & The Bunnymen.

Rap blasts off
"Yo! MTV Raps!" hosted by Dr. Dre and Ed Lover, premiered in 1988, bringing rap to the masses and helping make it the dominant music form for young America today. MTV created shows to highlight two other musical forms, alternative and heavy metal, with "120 Minutes" (1986) and "Headbangers Ball" (1987).

Grunge is born
When Nirvana's "Smells Like Teen Spirit" video aired on Sept. 29, 1991, it killed hair metal and made grunge the hot new music scene.

Reality ride
The 1992 debut of "The Real World" "invented reality TV," said Robert Thompson, professor of popular culture at Syracuse University. Casting Pedro Zamora (left), who was gay and soon to die of AIDS, in the 1994 season solidified MTV's position as champion of tolerance.

Heh-heh. Cool
"Beavis and Butt-head" debuted on March 24, 1994, telling gross-out stories, bashing videos they played and making the cover of Rolling Stone magazine.

After school special
"Total Request Live" debuted on Sept. 14, 1998, ushering in a new era in teen pop and crowning Justin Timberlake and Britney Spears as king and queen. With host Carson Daly, the show became a true tastemaker on Oct. 22 that year, when "TRL" shut down Times Square for a Backstreet Boys appearance.

Bleepity-bleep-bleep
The first bleeped-out swear word on the 2002 premiere of "The Osbournes" was followed by 58 others. For a while, the confused old rocker, his crabby wife and bratty kids became America's first family.

Chicken or tuna?
"Newlyweds: Nick and Jessica" gave D-list pop singers Jessica Simpson and Nick Lachey what they never gained with their music: fame. The newlyweds became household names in 2003 when a can of Chicken of the Sea confused Simpson, and she asked her hubby, "Is this chicken, what I have, or is this fish?"

Punks and stunts
"Jackass" quickly became MTV's most popular show when it began in 2000, showing Johnny Knoxville and his merry band doing painful stunts such as the human wrecking ball and butt piercing. In 2003, Ashton Kutcher (above) "Punk'd" Justin Timberlake and put the term in America's vernacular.

No confessions
In 2004, MTV tweaked the reality show genre with "Laguna Beach," a docu-soap that unfolded slowly, without scripted set-ups like confessionals and planned trips. Kristin (right) and her "real O.C." pals became instant reality stars.

MTV changed everything, but for itself, its own changes have left this girl a little sad. Of course, everything needs to move on, but it seemed like the time when it was continuous and progressive was replaced with game-shows, reality shows, and a bunch of time-wasters that made me NEVER want to watch again, (though I will say, they did start Beavis and Butthead, the Osbournes and Jackass, which all cracked me up) -- but then it all got out of control. And I know. There is always MTV2 but to me, the epitome of MTV was MUSIC and now its over.

Haiku Friday

heat is awful
boiling from inside out
no end in sight

And for additional fun, check out

Haiku's about traffic -- right up my alley!

http://www.honku.org/

Hut, 2 ...3....4....

I decided about a month ago that I was in a physical slump. I have been working out since the prime age of 19, was a fitness instructor for many moons and have always had gym memberships, but nothing was peaking my interest.

I have done yoga. It was fun and still can be, but I sometimes need a little more aggression. I have been a runner, but that gets old. Last year I discovered the beauty and wonderment of Runyon Canyon. After doing that hike about 2,000 times, I could walk the walk with a blindfold. I then adopted myself in the routine of doing Spin. You know spin -- the riding a bike for an hour and never really getting anywhere? Precisely. It was fun for about four months and then slowly became drudgery. I then partook in a weight/step class that was REALLY fun and then again, became boring after a few months of the same old/same old.

Last month I'd just had it. Time to be done with the gym. One day I just had enough. Very nice gym, don’t get me wrong, but I was starting to get that illness of driving to work, getting into a building, getting out of work, driving to another building, driving home and then getting into yet another building. Tomb-illness, I suppose.

I killed off my membership. Blam. Dead.

As I walked away from the gym, I thought of what I would possibly do with my time. Walking is a great last resort for me, but I knew that wouldn't be enough.

I decided that I would do something I'd thought about since my days in Chicago. I used to see people doing the work-outs on the lakefront and thought they were crazy.

I decided to be that crazy: I joined Bootcamp.

Stipulations up front: No booze for the month. No desserts. Call time, 6 a.m. at the of the La Brea Tar Pits.

Typical morning (M,W,F): Wake up at 5:35 a.m. no sh**. Wake up, brush teeth (as a way to make friends), change into work-out garb. Drive 9 minutes to park. Be ready by 6 with water and weights. Chatter with some of the other crazy folks and prepare for butt-kicking. We'd run about 2-3 miles and then do weights or sometimes these lung-pumping relay things that consist of running with your knees up, jumping with medicine balls, doing jumping jacks and all other sorts of torture. Some mornings after our run, we run up and down stairs, do lunges across the top of the stairs and then (flail) run, grab our weights and do all sorts of weight-bearing exercises. Sometimes we'd lie in the grass, with the hungry, sweat-hungry gnats attacking, but you'd just bear with it because it was all in the name of getting it done.

What's been interesting:

I am NEVER bored. The hour flies by.

We don't do a million sets of weights, but maybe two sets of 15. But we change it up. All.the.time.

The gentlemen that runs it, "The Major," runs with us and pushes us. Its this weird competition yet, there are no feelings of anyone trying to outdo another.

The running is actually peaceful.

We have time to streeeeetch.

And lemme just say, there is something bewildering and breathtaking about Los Angeles at 6 a.m. Its cool enough to be comfortable, but warm enough to still be in a tank top.

And....I leave feeling sore and like I actually did something.

FYI:

This past Friday was my last class -- I lost 2.5% body fat and 8 lbs. Niiice!!!

Not sure what's next, but I highly recommend checking out your local Bootcamp for a good, solid a**-kicking with lots of fun attached!!

"It ain't what you don't know that gets you into trouble. It's what you know for sure that just ain't so."

Mark Twain

Beyond just the Mercury rising ....

I believe that I am being maliciously pelted with weird stuff since the beginning of Mercury Retrograde. http://astrologyzone.com/forecasts/mercury.html

2006 Mercury Retrograde dates
March 2--March 25
July 4--July 28
October 28--November 17

(From Astrologyzone.com -- the BEST horoscopes, EVAR!)

At several points throughout the year most of us will be bombarded with the maddening effects of Mercury in retrograde. Mercury is a planet which governs all transportation and communication issues. Mercury is not an emotional planet, but rather a highly objective, truth-seeking one. It rules intelligence, education and truth. When it is in retrograde, some of its power is held back.

When Mercury starts turning in an apparent backward motion, we will start to feel the effects of this event days or even as far as two weeks earlier. When the planet normalizes we will see the tempo of events pick up in our lives as the planet becomes "stationary" and then speeds forward.

Gemini and Virgo are signs ruled by Mercury, so if you are one of those born during those months, you will be complaining especially loudly. If you work in the industries ruled by this planet such as sales, writing, public relations, advertising, publishing, air freight, the post office or express mail, any transportation industry, from the airlines to Amtrak, you'll also be especially vulnerable to this planet's weird motions in September. (If you are a Gemini, for example, who works in publishing, it's no use calling in for a month of mental health days--you can't escape!)

What happens when Mercury retrogrades? You miss appointments, your computer equipment crashes, checks get lost, you find the car you just purchased during Mercury retrograde is a lemon. (Or, you hate your haircut, the lamp you bought shorts out, your sister hates her birthday gift.) There will be countless delays, cancellations and postponements--but know these will benefit you in the long run. Don't fight them, although your frustration level and feeling of restlessness will be hard to cope with at times.

All machinery and things with moving parts--such as computers, VCRs, camera equipment, garbage disposals, and so forth, will reveal any weak links now. It is critical that you back up your data system and be more careful and vigilant than ever. Projects will demand more time and money than anticipated this month.

In matters of the heart, if your boyfriend or girlfriend breaks up with you or says something hurtful, take a wait-and-see attitude. Since Mercury rules speech, they may not mean what you think they are saying now. Let them have some space, and wait to see if they mean in October what they said in September.

When traveling, leave early and allow for extra travel time. Have all bags double-taped closed, count your belongings, double-check addresses and reconfirm appointments. Things get lost when Mercury messes us up. Take NOTHING for granted. The sector of your chart that Mercury happens to be skating through will be effected most dramatically, so check your forecast!

Why would the Universe give us Mercury retrograde? Because to move forward it is sometimes necessary to backtrack and reconfigure our paths in life. It is important to reconsider, repair, reflect, and reconnect. Mercury forces us to slow down and fix what's broken, and in so doing, rethink things. It also gives us time to get to projects we have put on the back-burner.

Some activities are lucky or actually improve when Mercury retrogrades. You are likely to bump into old friends that you haven't seen in years. Adopted children tend to find their birth parents during Mercury retrograde periods, or people locate their long lost siblings. Prosecutors often find clues to crimes that had previously remained unsolved for years. (Although sometimes the reverse is true--there is a greater danger, or example, that police can bungle evidence during a Mercury retrograde period, for clear thinking doesn't come easy for any of us then.) Mail that went astray weeks or even years ago shows up during Mercury retrograde. Some things that were lost reappear.

Now is also a good time to dress old wounds, clean up relationships or to simply bury the hatchet. Some people have great breakthroughs in psychotherapy during a Mercury retrograde period. For salesman, it is a positive time to backtrack over previous contacts rather than call on new ones. It is a perfect time to schedule work on projects that you haven't had time to do and you've let pile up. Bring your resume or portfolio up to date, and clean out your closets. Take time to paint the house. Clear your decks.

Just try not to start new things. If you have to start a job during a Mercury retrograde period know that the nature of the job is likely to change dramatically over time. Perhaps the person you report to will leave, or your responsibilities will be very different from what you thought they would be. Or your company won't be ready to take you on, and you won't have much to do until things are reorganized. But remember, if this was a position that you tried for in the past, then you've got the vibes working for you rather than against you.

Finally, what about people born with Mercury retrograde? If you are due to give birth to a baby during this period, don't fret. The ancients felt that this aspect lends a more philosophical tone to the character. Mercury rules thinking, therefore an individual born with this aspect tends to reflect deeply over events and issues throughout their lifetimes. In this case, having this aspect could be a big plus! Your astrologer was born with Mercury retrograde--so relax!



I KNOW. i know. It sounds all flakey and Ms. Cleo ("Call me NOW") and stuff, but I am truly believing that somehow the Universe has harvested my innards and are now playing an evil game of Dodgeball with my life. STOP!!! The good news is, just a few more weeks of it! Whew.

Feeling Hot Hot Hot

Are there anthems to sing on weeks that feel as if you have been kerplunked in between the weaves of a George Foreman grill? Is there any relief besides waiting for snow (as if) -- or any other type of weather (as if)???

I am think that Hell froze over and sent their weather all over the country.

Great Quote

"The real measure of your wealth is how much you'd be worth if you lost all your money." -Anon.

Walkin' in L.A...

As I should knock on wood before making SUCH a statement, driving has not been as harried for me lately. For some reason, the bevy of beast drivers have NOT been eating away at my soul as they've done in the past. I don't know if its my musical choices, having great air conditioning that drowns out all outside noise, the recreational drugs I've been dabbling in (jk) or if for some reason, I have been spared the pain and anguish of bad drivers as of late.

But lest I go there, there are still the drivers on the road I LOATHE:

1. The Octopus: The Octopus is the person that is eating a burger, putting on mascara or picking their nose, talking on the phone, rummaging on their passenger side seat and/or smacking their dog or child, all whilst driving their vehicle. These people are usually the ones that one might mistake for a drunk on the road, as they tend to veer over lanes while tending to all of their other "important" matters. They seem to have several sets of hands, though the most important ones are not on the wheel, nor are their eyes engaged on the road.

2. The Cutter: The Cutter isn’t necessarily late, they just can't WAIT. They cut--cut--cut off every single car in their path. If there is a traffic jam, they take it upon themselves to drive up the shoulder and make others eat their dust, even when the line has been politely waiting. They somehow squeeze their cars in just because they can and want to. They insist on weaving in and out. Who knows. Maybe its some sort of pent up energy. It's their world, we are just living in it.

3. The Blinker, 1 & 2: There are two types of Blinkers: Blinker #1 is the person that NEVER turns off their stinkin' blinker! No one knows where they are going, what their next move is and whether to be on the offense or defense. The other Blinker, Blinker #2 does not USE a blinker! They weave in and out, bobbing their heads while humming songs of peace, freedom and happiness while those around them dodge the bullet of these hellions of the road!

4.The Braker:Brake.Drive.Brake.Drive.Noreason.Justbrakingbecausetheycan.Brake.Drive.
Especially.irritating.on.freeways.when.there.is.a.nice.long.stretch.of.nothing.and.they.just.stop.Brake.Drive.Brake.Drive.Especiallyscarywhengoinguparamp.Brake.Drive.Brake.Drive.

5. The Rollers: They live on my street. I deal with them daily. Rollers don't believe in stop signs -- they just go through. They don't care that there are three other cars that might possibly be in the right to go, they just fly through the sign, smugly going on their merry way. Forget it if you are on a bike or blades, pray now, head for a ditch.

The list is endless. This is only the beginning.

Great Maya Quote

There is nothing so pitiful as a young cynic because he has gone from knowing nothing to believing nothing.

Maya Angelou

creative shizzle

Nothing but drivel
in my head
Can't hold a thought
like my heads filled with lead
a stupid old poem
to fill up some space
creatively shizzled
boring - like Alpine Lace

Life is really not boring right now, but I AM so here is my ode.

Peace out, brothas and sistas!

Blowin' the dust off --

Okay. It's been a while. A lot to say, but you know, not in the exact mood to tell.

Oh. I finally got a new shower head?? What, you may ask?? How lame?? Riight, but you know, just bear with me.

A few months back, Bunnie posted about her super-duper new shower filter. As a true needer of the new and interesting items a friend shares, especially when it promises SMOOTHER SKIN (!!) I figured that would be great fun. Not to mention, I have weird-ass allergies to almost everything that floats in the one-eyed breeding water that filters through just plain ole pipes SO...

The night I got the filter, I thought I would be BIG girl and install it all by my lonesome, but somehow got everything wrong and ended up BREAKING my lovely hand-held showerhead and having a gaping pipe coming out of my wall, minus the new and stellar filter. Having the lovely landlord I do, he came ASAP with his toolbox and sweet oldman plummerbutt to help me fix my mess. Along the way he also brought me this odd, bullet sized adornment for my shower. What, you ask?? It was a shower head of sorts, one that promised to work once we trounced the old broken shower head I'd murdered.

So since then I have been showering with this SPRAYING DEMON of a showerhead. It sometimes reminds me of prison movies, you know, when they are being brutally hosed off before being sent their cell. Or in Silkwood when they are trying to get the radiation off of them.

Why didn't I change it?? I couldn't get the damn thing off and did not want to bother the Landlord again. But yesterday I bought a spanking new showerhead and decided that I was smart enough to fix this. And I did. And then I took a 50 minute shower (I was really starting to smell!). Aaahhh, the beauty of the new shower head.

Oh, and I was in Chicago last week, which was LOVELY. Being in my hometown is an exact 180 to my world here. Its sloooooow and lucky for me, I'd just missed a massive heat wave and instead was blessed with high 70's weather with tons of breeze. Lovely. I visited with my closest friends and family and just chillaxed. I was actually growing antsy with the quiet and ended my trip in the area called, Andersonville, which is at the very north tip of the city -- niiice.

AND I've been thinking alot about the recent spill of Spelling Bee movies that KEEP coming out:

I've decided that the first of the spelling bee movies ("Spellbound") was quite interesting and cute, but now three are JUST too many and watching a bunch of children pee themselves in fear over misspelled words and the stress of word rules is just cruel. FUNNY, but cruel. Funny like:



Happy Weekend!!

I haven't been to Laguna Beach since I was 19 (which was just a few years ago -- WHOSE counting??)



No. Really. It's been way too long. Laguna Beach was the first California I'd ever experienced back in the 90's with my friend, Froot. Fake ID in hand and 10 days of baby oil and the most SERIOUS tan I've ever been in my life, it was one of several reasons I'd considered moving West.



Boy have I been missing out!!!

As a pioneer in

being a "creative" cooker and baker, I am not sure WHAT to say ...




Hostess Twinkies Sushi

(www.hostesscakes.com)

Stars and Stripes forever --

While Burberry plaid is NOT my favorite blend of visual aid, there is something so soothing about seeing people doused in it all over the streets in one of the cleanest, most interesting cities I've ever visited: Washington, D.C.

I was really going to D.C. to visit my darlings, who'd moved there from L.A. back in November. I just figured we would sightsee a little. I didn't know I'd get SO inspired and fall in love.

Arriving in Baltimore at 6:15 in the morning on Thursday, I squinched my eyes to see my fabulous friend, armed with coffee and ready to show me the town. Once we were back at the beautiful apartment, the rule was made: no more car.

From there until yesterday, after my battle with United Airlines (who apparently said I never showed up on my first flight so they "zeroed" out my second flight, leaving me with the possibility of more time in D.C.) we were on foot or on train.

The trains in D.C. are super clean. There are no food or drink allowed and one will get ticketed if you try to cheat the system. Taking the metro to the downtown the first day, we got out to arrive at "the mall". When I was told we were going to the "the mall" I of course thought we were in for a day of shopping. Nope.

The National Mall is actually an open park of sorts, filled with amazing gardens, little trails and the pond (the one you've seen in millions of movies and TV snippets), where we fed some VERY obese ducks. It is also the area surrounded by the Smithsonian museums (who knew there were more than one?? I didn't!), monuments and memorials. On one side was the Washington Monument and directly east, the Capitol of the U.S.



At one of the Smithsonians, I was able to sneak a peak at the Hope Diamond (until one of satan's spawn stuck there grubby little head in my way!) There will prolly be better pics with the coming days, but you get the gist --



Everywhere we walked, there were doses of history and unbelievable architecture. In Georgetown, we went to the Old Stone House or "the oldest house in D.C." The house was built in 1765 (it has that attic-musty smell) but has all of its original ornamentation, flooring, etc. Beyond this unique little piece of history, Georgetown was breathtaking.

Walking around the city was mesmerizing as there is just so much to see. The homes are like fortresses and all of the buildings look old school and charming. Of course, there is history oozing from every orifice! And because there'd been rain, the air was crisp and there was so much green and CLEAN air.



I guess what struck me was the passion in the air. There isn't a "look at me, look at who I'm trying to be" or anything of the like attitude. It's about rules, amendments and rights, everywhere. Milling around the outskirts of the White House were a myriad of different groups, doing their "Power to the People" rights thing. Hitting the streets were the "suits," bustling about to lobby for this or for that. And truly, whether or not you believe in what some of these people have to say (including the dude in the White House), there is just something to be said for the rules of the past, present and future that isn't just something one person conjured up, but something for the ages.

There is SO much more to say, but I am still a little overwhelmed and my calves are still trying to adjust to their permanent sore-state from ALL of the walking :)

Random

"...memories are a funny thing. If enough time goes by you can put anything behind you and start a new life and change yourself."

Anon

It's a SUNSHINE day --

Well, not quite. Wassup with this dreary-ass weather??

P.S. (whispering) - As a nerdified member of Team Jolie, I am completely horrified that Jenifer Aniston bought digs with Vince Vaughn in Chicago -- WHY??? WHY????

Department Sore

Since the hater in me is alive and well, I thought I could share the next leg of my journey into the bewilderment of things I hate.

I hate department stores. I know lame, right??

You see, I grew up being a mallrat, just because, in a small town, that's all there is to do. I also did not know the beauty of boutiques, resale/thrift shops and all the rest in the bevy of the unknown for duds of the wunderkind.

I love clothes, but what I really love are random clothes. Its kind of like being a well of useless knowledge, but it also reigns in my world of clothing. I like the odd and weird and pairing them with the norm. And of course, I love vintage anything, but that's a whole other story.

Anyway. I decided today to look nice. I am going out this evening and chose a comfy but cute dress that looks even better with my favorite black boots. I am a boot girl. Stevie Nicks, the COOLEST woman in rock n roll and possibly evar, got me started on my obsession with boots. I used to have a zillion pairs. Now I have six. They are all black. They are all different. Today's boots are/were the "nice" ones. Fabric-y, stretchy, cozy with a mad heel. Only today, the left heel isn't mad -- it's PISSED.

A few weeks back, I had a weekend of debauchery with a group of my friends and I believe I dropped my vacuum cleaner on the base of my left boot. Yes, long story, different day, but yes. I did it.

And now I have a wonky boot heel. I walked into work this morning feeling the unsteadiness on my left. As the day bore on (and I mean "bore" on) I felt it more and more. After careful inspection and a few crackily shakes, the heel is 'off' -- not quite, but on its way.

While I am opting to fix it, in the meantime I thought I would trot on down to Macy's at the Century City Mall. I don't mind this mall. It's outdoors. There is no pressure. It's not like that mall I call Alcatraz -- the Beverly Center. (After almost six years in this town, I can't park near "Alcatraz" -- it scares me. No windows, no air, no light -- NO WAY. The closest I've gotten is St. Nicks Pub down the street. Fun bar :) Anyway.

I drove to the mall. Parked my metal box of torture and headed upward. The mall is very nice. You don't have to actually go into stores, its just good people watching and star-sightings. But I was on a mission. I browsed thru the make-up department, sprayed some ginger essence and headed on up.

Floor Two is women's shoes. When I arrived, I started my descent into Hell. I was overwhelmed. Dizzy even. Shoes were everywhere, on little leveler-thingys and set out amongst one another like little gangs. After teetering over with the vast amounts of shoeage surrounding me, I hustled among the shoes, to note that there were no boots, not ONE pair. In fact, there weren't even any closed-toed shoes. Sandals mocked me. Flip-flops (very expensive ones, at that) flipped me off in only a way a summer shoe could. I even tried on a pair of open-toed shoes, but realized it was all just wrong, wrong, wrong.

A saleslady came up with her little bespectacled face to ask if I needed help (no comment) and when I asked about boots, she chuckled in only a way an older, condescending woman could and said, "Sweetie, this store is seasonal. It's practically Summer".

I call that seasonal-unreasonable.

Sticky business

On my way home from work yesterday, I tried to go to the gym. As I got into my car, this deep-rooted anger came over me. I just wanted to fucking walk. I did not want to get into my vehicle. I did NOT want to drive. I did not want to pass go. Eff the $200 -- I just wanted to fucking walk and enjoy the breezy, beautiful day. I wanted to walk and get things done, like running to the drug store and window-shopping, but alas, that is not my life, so I trudged to the gym to start 20 minutes of anger-ridden, HATE-lifting while surrounded by the most SNARKY crowd of people I have ever seen. And while my gym is high-fallutin' and all, its also got a nice "Bad-news-bears" thing happening, so its never too pretty. Last night was an exception. And of course, it couldn't have hit at a worse time.

For some reason unbeknown to me, I started to feel stressed out in a way I haven't felt in eons. I felt tense and pissed and a million other foul emotions after leaving the snarks behind. I decided I should just head home and walk in the 'hood, get some errands done, etc. As I started my departure from my gym at a time of night that should be lighter, traffic-wise, I turned as I do into the cluster-fuck of the century. And I sat. And sat. And sat. I started to sweat. My heart was pounding, my fists were tense and I started CRYING. Yes, I started crying like a big freaking baby. R called at this point and I freaked out. I don't know why but I was beyond just "fuck, I'm stuck in traffic," but was more like, "FUCK, I am just STUCK" (poetry, right??)

I moved at a snails pace as I ranted to R about my hate at that moment for all this bullshit traffic and how I could (and have) walked faster than this turtle paced bullshit.

After getting off the tel, I turned down a side-street after seeing ahead that there was more crazy, squished up traffic. As I turned, there was a moment of freedom. I was free. I was able to "drive" -- until I turned back onto a connecting street that was stopped up like a constipated persons stool. And the tears started again.

As I got home almost an hour and 20 minutes later, I was beaten down, pissed off and drained. I managed to get ONE errand done of foot in my neighborhood. I talked to a few friends and specifically felt better when two of them who get the whole "demographics," lack of transportation choices, etc., thing and felt WAY better.

As the night wore on, I finally calmed down, popped open a beer and had a moment of clarity: I HATE being stuck. I hate being stuck with my shoe in gum, I hate having a heel stuck in a grating, I hate being stuck in traffic and I HATE being stuck in life. I need freedom and freeflow. I love being able to control my time and how its being wasted or NOT wasted.

I HATE being stuck.

Dismembered Bunny - -

Easter is officially over.

" -- closes another bottle opens"

Having one of your closest friends leave after a visit, especially when you've a) been off of work, b) had SOOO much fun and c) realized that time does not change a thing in your friendship, but make it even MORE clear WHY you're friends, is very hard. Rather than go into a long story, let's just say it made me SO happy to have Buddy here but as always, the party MUST end (even though I must say, we can really keep up -- we're NOT quitters, are we??)

On a different note, my favorite bar in the city of Chicago has closed. There had been rumors for years that it was closing, but its official, 2710 N Halsted St, otherwise known as "GRIFFINS PUB HOUSE" is now just a blank space. Whatever replaces it will no longer mean a thing to me. That sucks.

Griffins was in part of the "triangle" of great little pubs (and yes, Chicago is lined with them, but these were MY pubs) on Halsted. Across the street is Peg Leg O'Sullivans and kitty corner, Alive One. While the other two are GREAT bars, Griffins always had a special place in my heart -- and near a Walgreens, a Dunkin' Donuts (yay) and the Lincoln Park Fire Department (hubba hubba). And you could could show up in sweats and not care.

Griffins was the grooviest little dive in a very cut-throat, hipster area. Lincoln Park is a town of Trixies and Chads, but Griffins had a gentle way of inviting you in, minus any hipster, snobby influence. The bar outside was adorable. It looked like a little elf house with shutters. Inside was a even cuter -- like a happy den. Yummy Irish food was served til all hours and beer flowed as it only can in Chicago. There were Dead bands almost every night and if there weren't, there could be jazz, drums circles OR the jukebox, blaring out favorites. The crowds were always peace-minded folks that were friendly and filled with drinking capacity that could make a regular persons eyes glaze over. And the staff?? Equally fun, equally giving and totally cool. The type of staff that if you and your friends were having the BEST time ever, they would stay open (or close and let you and your friends stay in) until the night or someone was done. So needless to say, I spent many bleary-eyed nights until the likes of 5 a.m., sitting, laughing, dancing and having the best time.

It was close to my old home in Lincoln Park. My own Cheers bar. I was able to walk, run and even rollerblade there, (though the roller-blading took place after a near mugging, I still managed to make it to the bar)!!

Last summer I was in for a visit and had my friends meet there. The bartender got wind of my love of their bar and knew I chose this pub over the other 10,000 bars in the city -- everything changed. No one paid a cent and drinks were flowing all night long -- and I mean ALL NIGHT long. They stayed open until we were ready to leave. There were shots -- not the gun kind, either. There was beer. And there were tons of laughs. And my friends loved it, as did I.

I now will live with my fond little memories and sadly, go back to visit and not really know WHERE to go (okay, that's a lie, but really --). (And who KNEW there was an (ulp) myspace for Griffins ---) http://www.myspace.com/griffinspublichouse

Fare thee well.

Oh and Idol update: While I thought Kelly was awful, I would still like Ace to go home. And Rod Stewart seems like a very nice man (nice like SOSSAGE)

Mr. Rogers and his not-so idyllic face...

Idol...

Firstly, another week of the most boring performances ever. The fact it took me and neighbor friend over two hours to get thru (she has Tivo, ya'll) -- was truly like watching paint dry. As I said to NF, the nice thing this season is that the kids are ALL consistently pretty good, but their song choices are VILE.

I'm truly a little more rock n' roll than country, but even I could have picked better songs. I think Bucky is going to be sent home.

But let's talk about the former, rugged and good-looking Mr. Kenny Rogers, who was yet another guest host to help the kids and their singing. WHAT ON EARTH did he do to his poor mug?? Gone is the wispy, floppy hair. Now of course. I understand. He's also 20 years older, but the face...the face!! Its like a melted down version of once was a country crooner and a manly-man cowboy. He's replaced his face with a rubber ball...

Very sad. Joan Rivers should be so proud that someone, besides Melissa, is following in her footsteps.

sticking it to the man...

At the risk of being "dooced", one might say I must speaketh in tongue. I am not good at being barked at by humans, nor am I good at taking direction from one who speaks in gibberish. I am less apt to do anything with my heart and soul for one who clearly does not own one or the other. It's hard for me to listen when there is a volume that could force my eyelashes to fall off, one by one. It's equally difficult for me to care when someone's main concern is themself and how they can make more $$$. I feel contempt when said person is not only using this barrage of unbearable behavior, NOT just with me, but with someone who is not even in the line of fire.

Wacky.

Anyway. My Idol predictions for last week were correct -- though I am hardly looking forward to the country version of this evening. What'a girl to do?? It's raining!

The cure for Insomnia...

...was American Idol last night. Skip the Lunestra next time you can't sleep and then watch the MOST BORING performances EVAR. Even Mandisa, Chris and Taylor, whom I still deeply love, were a TOTAL snooze.

Bottom three (hopefully): Lisa, Ace (who did the world's WORST version of "Drops of Jupiter") and Bucky. Lisa should be cut.

Paper cuts, files and boxes...oh my..

Egads. It's the Great American Moving Day here at work...and we are all chocked full of aches, pains, cuts and much swearing. I even was hit by a flying piece of glass from a broken jar...thank goodness for thick hair (and a thick head)...

My weekend was one of those glitzy, fun and unexpected crazy ones...with one of the best moments being that Kitty let me clip her nails.

I know. Crazy Cat Person Alert, right? But let me 'splain...

This was Kitty, circa 2004, just a mere 5 months after owning her (or does SHE own me??):

"...Kitty was QUITE a spirited young thang this weekend. I took her to get her nails cut. They were beginning to resemble meathooks. Last week, I flopped her over my shoulder as I do, and her little hooks went into my back, one by one, not on purpose. Felt like fishing hoooks. Not nice at all. She is not very keen on other people touching her, specifically if they are holding anything that might touch her for purposes of either doctoring or coifing. Kelly, myself, and Guadalupe (not her real name, to protect the innocent) had to hold her down to get just ONE nail chopped. I should have taped the bizarre, nocturnal monster noises that were coming out of her for Halloween to scare the children. She was writhing much like the character Reagan in the "Exorcist." They had to put a little leather black hood on her head as it was starting to spin...*well, she was trying to bite the woman's hand off.... (Kitty looked like the "Gimp" from Pulp Fiction) After everything, the very shaken Petco worker was shaking her head and muttering what sounded like prayers, in Espanol. All this in a matter of three minutes!"

A few months back, a friend of mine helped me clip her nails...he held her by her scruff while I chopped. I couldn't do it. I was a mess. I was sure that Kitty was calling the authorities about what a bad cat mom I am. My friend INSISTED that this is the better way, that taking Kitty to a "professional" is much worse for her. But what about me, right??

This weekend, Kitty was sound asleep. I steathily walked to her and started talking about how much we HATE Petco AND the vet, and how much nicer it would be if I could just do the cutting...

I picked up one of the furry, Ugglike paws and talked her through it. While I cut, she tried to nip at me once and then looked at me like, "(Sigh)..okay. Fine Mom. Just do it." And it took all of a mere minute and we were done.

So that's that.

To sum up the weekend:

too much Snake Pit on Friday;
A morning of coffee and "Hair";
Noshing and yumming at Jinky's on Saturday --if you have NOT frequented one of the Jinky's (there are three)...YOU MUST -- followed by an amazing Fryman Hike with Bunnie, twice;
Nail expedition in between;
A fun night with J-Boonesbrat;
Much couching on Sunday, one of the best lounging days in eons;
And MORE Snake Pit on Sunday, where I also won a music trivia bet (GLOATING) ... Sorry, V, I couldn't resist:)

Happy Monday Folks and Flakes!

Robbie made me do it...

So after I sent my Cupid-coupling idea to Robbie, he insisted I post and start rumors...





Since there are the Brangelina's and the Vaughnifer's...what can we call them??

Should I feel bad?

Idling about...

Another night of Idol. Decent one, at best. Stand-outs last night were Mandisa (who I have loved since the moment she "forgave" Simon for making a rude comment to her and who has proved week after week that she has voice, spunk and spirit); Paris, who captured the time-period and the voice of her piece; Chris who, as always, is not just hot but can sing the SH__ out of anything in ONLY the way he can. I mean, who has the balls to take a Johnny Cash song that's been newly made popular again, (in this instance, "walk the line") and make it into his own, ROCKED-OUT version, without straying too far from the original? I would buy a copy in heartbeat! Taylor, who normally blows me away, did a lukewarm version of "Who do you love," but still, he's always a pleaser. I was not too thrilled with anyone else.

My choice for cuts? Nerd-boy, Lisa and Bucky.

Enough is enough...

This is not going to be about the fact our President has made dire mistakes in judgment, in decisions, in speaking and in general. I am not going to discuss the fact that over and over again, our President thinks he is God and makes God-like decisions, as if he is speaking in tongue from a place, far-far away. I am NOT going to speak of the fact that his term in office has made him SO unpopular or that his "fan" ratings have markedly sunk like the Titanic, slow and cold.

I am hardly one to spout ANY political epitaphs of any kind, but really...could our President PLEASE step off and let someone else take over?? Watching him speak and answer questions like a child about to pee himself has just gotten to be more than I can bear. Watching press conferences, State of the Union addressess or the like have just started to make me cringe and as a slightly vain woman, I just can't afford the furrows of disbelief that show their pinchy selves on my face when I hear some of the doofus-like remarks or stammers that occur when our President is faced with questions...ANY questions.

There are definitely threats that we face daily as American citizens...our President or lack thereof, should not be a part of it.


While this is meant to funny, its a little mortifying:

http://www.bush-whacking.com/audioclips.htm

SPRING SPRING SPRING SPRING

Okay. Really. I know. Its hardly been "winter" here, so why all the fuss??

The first day of spring is TODAY!!! And yes, this means its a vernal equinox. This is when the sun sits directly above the equator on its apparent trip northward. The beginning of spring for us is the beginning of autumn for people in Australia and the southern parts of Africa and South America. Poor things!!!

Erin Go Braugh has NOTHING to do with lingerie….

While I am not Irish, I have attended my fair share of Irish events (okay, parades) and have SEVERAL friends with Irish heritage and names that last 25 breaths --(ex: "Mary Katherine Brigid Appolonia Megan Alphonsa Margaret".) My darling niece and nephew are, by way of their mother, Irish. Because of this, since they were children, my family liked to help them embrace. My mother, who always did feed festively when the occasion was right, would try her old-school cooking hand at corned beef and cabbage, just to keep the kids focused on their heritage.

Being Irish is EASY. Anyone can be Irish. Chicago is an easy city to be Irish in, too. Don a pin that says, "Kiss me I'm Irish," while slurping down a beer and you, too, can be the MOST popular lass on your block.

With this in mind, I found myself wondering about Irish ideals and what they really mean, so here is my hand at a little Irish research:

Does Kissing the Blarney Stone REALLY give do anything special??

Yup! Kissing the Blarney Stone, at Blarney castle, in Blarney, Ireland, gives you the "gift of gab." If you give it one kiss, you can talk a lot of "blarney" and people will still believe you! Did you know that you have to lie on your back and bend your head waaaay down to even reach the stone? And when you do, you will be kissing something that has been kissed by thousands of people a year for 500 years! Eeew!

Erin Go Braugh has NOTHING to do with lingerie….

Yup, the luck of the Irish must be with you! Erin Go Braugh means "Ireland Forever."

The term "honeymoon" originated from an Irish tradition. The word for honeymoon in Gaelic is "mi na meala", which means "the month of honey". Irish monks used to produce a fermented honey brew called mead and would give enough to a bride and groom to last them a month after their wedding. It was believed that this drink enhanced fertility and was the best way to ensure a good beginning for a new marriage.

The original Guinness Brewery in Dublin has a 6,000 year lease. A full seven percent of the Irish barley crop is used solely for the production of Guinness beer

Mmmmm. Beer.


(this is the Chicago River. It is dyed green for the week of St. Patty's day...)

Fun Fact:
Green River is a bright green, lime-flavored soft drink produced by the Clover Club Bottling Corp. of Chicago. The drink was developed in 1919 by the Schoenhofen Brewery of Chicago as a non-alcoholic product for the prohibition era. It was popular for decades as a soda fountain syrup. .

Facelift

Much like other people in Hollywood, I decided to give ye olde blog a little refresher...your comments are welcome :)

More like, Stevie Blunder

Last night, the Idol peeps had to sing Stevie Wonder songs. Sigh. Awful. Just awful. Granted, his songs are difficult, but again, SONG choice people. The stand-outs last night were Mandisa (not her best, but good enough); Paris, who came back from very blah weeks with TOTAL energy and the fierceness she'd started out with; Taylor, of course and Holy Bald-headed god, Chris blew EVERYONE away.

Really lame, I am.

And speaking of lame, if Chicken-Little-Lisp-Boy does NOT get eliminated, I will SCREAM!

Not Billy Idol

Tuesday night, Mandisa, who has rocked the house for the past two weeks, did it again with her powerhouse version of "I'm Every Woman." There were many reasons it was amazing but mostly, the girl can sing the hell out of everything with energy, a booty-shake and a smile. Kelly "Cal-I-MARI" sang a very tart-y version of "I'm the only one" which did not exactly showcase her voice (as its just okay) but her others, um, ass-sets. Simon called her a "naughty little minx..." Yea.

The other girls? B. B-for-BOOOOOOOORING. Prediction: Bye to Kinnick and Lisa.

The boys? Bald-headed babe Chris, sang a Staind song. Now, while he is ferociously hot, sings with amazing heart, has a great, um, body (EVERYONE loved his shirt), Staind is a little depressing. Nonetheless, it was really good. Gray-haired guy, Taylor Hicks, did a very seizure-like performance of "Bringing it to the Street" -- but really, AMAZING. He is the Bo Bice of this season.

Predictions? Bye to Will "Peter Brady" and Gedeon. I really like Geddeon, but something is missing there...like the fact he says he's 17...dudes, he's at least 25!

Now, I shall go bury my Idol head in the sand until next week...

A dear and introspective friend sent this....

...just thought I'd share.

STRESS

A lecturer, when explaining stress management to an audience, raised a glass of water and asked, "How heavy is this glass of water?"
Answers called out ranged from 20g to 500g.
The lecturer replied, "The absolute weight doesn't matter. It depends on how long you try to hold it.
If I hold it for a minute, that's not a problem.
If I hold it for an hour, I'll have an ache in my right arm.
If I hold it for a day, you'll have to call an ambulance.
In each case, it's the same weight, but the longer I hold it, the heavier it becomes."
He continued,
"And that's the way it is with stress management.
If we carry our burdens all the time, sooner or later,
as the burden becomes increasingly heavy,
we won't be able to carry on. "
"As with the glass of water,
you have to put it down for a while and rest before holding it again.
When we're refreshed, we can carry on with the burden."
"So, before you return home tonight, put the burden of work down.
Don't carry it home.
You can pick it up tomorrow.
Whatever burdens you're carrying now,
let them down for a moment if you can."
So, my friend, Put down anything that may be a burden to you right now.
Don't pick it up again until after you've rested a while.

* Accept that some days you're the pigeon, and some days you're the statue.
* Always keep your words soft and sweet, just in case you have to eat them.
* Always read stuff that will make you look good if you die in the middle of it.
* Drive carefully. It's not only cars that can be recalled by their maker.
* If you can't be kind, at least have the decency to be vague.
* If you lend someone $20 and never see that person again, it was probably worth it.
* It may be that your sole purpose in life is simply be kind to others.
* Never put both feet in your mouth at the same time, because then you won't have a leg to stand on.
* Nobody cares if you can't dance well. Just get up and dance.
* Since it's the early worm that gets eaten by the bird, sleep late.
* The second mouse gets the cheese.
* When everything's coming your way, you're in the wrong lane.
* Birthdays are good for you. The more you have, the longer you live.
* You may be only one person in the world, but you may also be the world to one person.
* Some mistakes are too much fun to only make once.
* We could learn a lot from crayons... Some are sharp, some are pretty and some are dull. Some have weird names, and all are different colors, but they all have to live in the same box.
*A truly happy person is one who can enjoy the scenery on a detour.

Okay...ONE MORE post about the weather...

***this cracked me up...

Richard Roeper
Chicago Sun-Times
3/7/06

OSCAR COVERAGE ....

Friday. The skies are cloudy above Los Angeles, and actual rain is
falling. On the local newscasts, they're treating the rains like a three-foot
blizzard: team coverage, tips on driving safely, etc. I half-expect one
of the anchors to say, "If you don't have to go outside, don't." Many of
these reports are delivered by weather-women and traffic reporters who look
like they just walked off a Stuff Magazine photo shoot, or men with porn
star names. One local weatherman is Dallas Raines. There's another named
Johnny Mountain.

Seriously.

What a tease!

--I don't what's worse: seeing a beautiful day out the window OR being outside in the beautiful day and knowing you must return the hell (okay, its not THAT bad) you call your job --

Why Can't This Be Love...??

I am barely holding up. My.Eyes.My.Eyes.

A little piece of my old school rock and roll, band-aid, musician-loving, first-crush-of-music-heart died today...

My first rock and roll crush...



and...sigh. Here he is over the weekend...




-- I think we broke up.

A little fall of rain, can hardly, hurt me now…

My person has been impaled by snow, bludgeoned with hail, noshed with sleet and cold winds, practically knocked unconscious by snowballs, stabbed with icicles, blinded by salt trucks mixed with slush -- I was once the girl, that even dressed to the nines, never carried an umbrella, jumped in puddles, made snow angels in my suits and sang in the rain. I used to jog down the lakefront in Chicago during the most hellacious conditions, but today marked my first official weather wimp-out moment:

As lunch time approached, I found myself looking at weather.com, following times of possible precipitation like a hungry hawk, ready to lunge. My plan was to walk around the golf course that is right across the street, the walk I usually take with two of my office pals, but today I thought of going it alone, only -- I was afraid I might get wet.

What??

Have I become light in loafers about weather?? Am I suddenly afraid I might melt?? What happened to my all-weather person who, much like the mailman slogan, "through rain, sleet or snow…", ALWAYS delivered?? I have a rain thing-y poncho garb thing with me, proper shoes and gear for this -- to quote Derrick Zoolander, "Who am I??"

I don't know what to call this moment, but I fear I may have lost my concept of weather -- for instance, I have been telling people who are in sub-zero temperatures that its been "cold" here. Cold??? COLD??? This is hardly Antartica. I have a friend coming to visit me tomorrow. She is coming from 25 degrees….and I told her to make sure she had some "warm" clothes!?

Has my inner thermometer been replaced by one that doesn't go under 50 degrees?? Have I slid into L.A. weather oblivion??

After seeing the "threatening looking clouds," I'd decided NOT to go.

(BTW...its NOT even raining.)

Little fact: The title, "A little fall of rain" is actually the title of one of the most beautiful (and weepy) songs from Les Miz.

Just a little Idol chit-chat...

So, the past two nights I tried hard NOT to watch, but I just couldn't help myself.

Tuesday night, the girls sang and once again, tripped, fell and picked BAD songs. For instance, nameless contestant girl who tortured us last week with the HORRIFIC song that was specifically written for Idol, came back with equal amounts of sadisticness by choosing a Mariah Carey song. WTF??? Mariah is SO on right now and while I might fling my nose in the air at her lack-thereof of fashion, the girl has pipes and Idol girl failed MISERABLY. Two good ones? Ayla, who was sincerely invisible to me the week before and once again, Mandisa, who closed the show with the same wonderful energy as last week.

Now for the boys of Wednesday night. Sigh. The boys this year are light years better than the girls, but again, SONG CHOICE. My favorites were gray-haired guy (taylor hicks) who did not pick the best song, but still has more soul than a closet of shoes and the closer, the hot, bald BABE who sang the SH** out his song, which I with much embarrassment, don't know the name of. But you see?? I don't even know the name of the tune, but still...his showmanship blew everyone out of the water. All in all, the boys were SO much better. A few clinkers, a few blah performances but all in all, good stuff.

That's all!

Perpetual City

It been over two years. Actually, today its two years and a few weeks since it ended (last episodes -- Part Une and Deux - February 15 and 22, 2004).

Somehow, even the watered-down, swear-naked, sans sex talk or scenes that are on regular TV STILL manages to works its glorious magic (ain't nothin' like the real thing, though!).

Yes. I am talking about (drum roll, please) -- "Sex and the City."

Last night, the rerun was the second to the last episode, properly called, "An American Girl in Paris: Part Une" In this episode (*SPOILER ALERT*) Carrie has decided to leave the fabulous city she loves as much as her three friends to move on to greener pastures -- Yes, PARIS!!!

I was having such a hard time, overwhelmed at the memory of watching this same episode in its finale weeks AND remembering how compelling each character was to watch at this point in the game. As Carrie gave her friends her final goodbye speech at their final New York City dinner, Charlotte started to cry. I had to flip over to South Park to bring myself out of near combustible tears. That worked for the moment as Cartman was giving each of the boys costumes for the boy band he'd put together so they could perform at malls.

I inched back to "SATC" and decided to take my medicine. I guess besides having seen the episode a zillion times, missing the show to death, etc. and still feeling a void since NO show has really been this good with stories or writing since, I also lived those similar moments with my own friends when I left Chicago…

Bunnie and I were just discussing friendships and how no matter how good, how bad, how busy, in love, in hate or in chaos you are, you'd better be sure that you tend to those friendships, keep them close and nurture them. *It's an inescapable truth, especially for women, that we need our girlfriends. Sometimes we really need their support more at times, but it's the ongoing feeding of the relationship that keeps it intimate and special.* Good friends are hard to come by, but will be your lifesavers when you least expect it, the shoulder when there are no others and your cheerleader when its ALL so good or OH so bad…

I am grateful for the ones I have. They all know this. I am glad SATC reminds me of how lucky I am…

Now, if I ONLY had a Big -- but that's a story for another day.

*Bunnie's words

great quote

The biggest room in the world is the room for improvement.
- unknown

Embarrassing habits....

I know, right? A little IDOL goes a long way. I DO have a little habit going on with American Idol. My friend T and I were discussing the fact that in the past three years, we have both religiously been watching and know a little too much about the show and the contestants, old and new.

Last night while baking cookies (I had to add that in for Holly Hobbie purposes) and whilst doing laundry, I started to watch the first 12 females perform.

Truthfully speaking, it was like watching paint dry. The reports that there were only four good singers last night were almost correct as, while I love the little blonde girl with the tragic, "Mah daddies in prizon" story, I don't think it was her best performance THOUGH I give her tons of kudos because she is truly, as Simon says, "a bag of nerves."

The two contestants that were most important to me last night were the very first girl and the very last girl.

First girl was insulted by Simon a few weeks ago. He'd made a VERY degrading comment about her weight -- something about the fact they'd need a bigger stage for her. She handled him and the humiliation like a champ and carried on. She even told him she forgave him. Btw, her name is Mandisa.

Mandisa was the first person to perform of the season. She barrelled out from the stage and BELTED OUT an amazing and electric version of Heart's, "NEVER," which, lemme tell you as a girl that likes to play around with singing, is a HARD HARD HARD song. One should never take on a Wilson sister song unless one has the voice to bang it out and you know, she nailed it. THAT is what makes a good contestant on the show...you pick a kick-ass song that can make or break you and you make it your own. I say this as after that (yawn...zzzz), it seemed EVERYONE started schmaltzing with the ballads.

Now again. Ballads are not always easy, but for the most part, if you think you are good enough to sing on national TV, don't pick a song that is played at a karaoke bars over and over OR worse, that is from a Disney movie. Or EVEN worse, the stupid ass song that was written strictly for the show last season...BOO.

Before I go to the last contestant, I have to say, Paris (not Parasite Hilton, mind you), but the adorable Paris who made a Gladys Knight and the Pipps song so good on the ears and SO fun to watch, should be doing Broadway. Not only is she adorable, have personality and spunk, the kid can sing circles around almost anyone there.

Now, last but not least. Now, the last girl of ;ast night show can sing. In fact, one would say she is not only beautiful but her voice is unique, her technique flawless. But one might also say that while she is #1 all around, there is also the trouble factor that her MOTHER IS A VOICE TEACHER. And she talks about it ALL of the time. Now wouldn't it KIND OF be an unfair advantage? I mean, the "mah daddie's in prizon" girl is from Where Jesus Left His Shoes, Alabama and our little diva whose MOTHER IS A VOICE TEACHER is from Sherman Oaks, CA.

Maybe this will make the competition more interesting, or maybe it will make it VERY unfair. Anyway. Tonight are the boys. Tomorrow the results.

Sigh. By the time its over, it will be summertime and I can rid myself of a bad Idol habit for yet another season!

UGG Kitty!

Before: Slightly psychotic, a little Damien Omen, right???





And now?? An adorable bobble-head Kitty with Big Winky Eyes!! Ah, sweet Freedom!

Hermano means BROTHER…

Today I am mourning the loss of the show that made me belly laugh, which for a TV show NEVER happens. Watching it on TV was enough, but after purchasing the DVD's of this particular piece of comedic genius, I found myself playing certain scenes over and over and laughing just as hard the 3rd. 4th AND 5th time around. This dynamic show brought to life serious problems like being a "nevernude", vertigo, that the blue part of the map is NOT land, and dating your mother's best friend to make her jealous is um, interesting. On top of that, it took strong activism stances for higher purposes like "HOOP" (Hands Off Our Penises, an anti-circumcision organization) . It told us that having a crush on your cousin is wrong but "maeby" she isn't your "real" cousin. Since I can't even begin to explain the constant comic ecstasy, this will make things easier:

"The plot for Arrested Development revolves around the members of the Bluth family, who generally lead excessive lifestyles. At the center of the show is the relatively honorable Michael Bluth (Jason Bateman), who strives to do the right thing and keep his family together, despite their materialism, selfishness and manipulation. His teenage son, George Michael (Michael Cera), has the same qualities of decency, but feels a constant pressure to live up to his father's expectations, and is reluctantly willing to follow his father's plans, even if they sometimes conflict with his own.

Michael's father George Sr. (Jeffrey Tambor), the patriarch of the family, is the founder of the Bluth Company, whose primary operations are building and marketing mini-mansions. At times dictatorial, George Sr. goes to considerable lengths to manipulate and control his family.

His wife, and Michael's mother, Lucille (Jessica Walter), is equally manipulative, as well as materialistic, and hypercritical of every member of her family. In particular, she has a tight grip on her youngest son, Byron "Buster" Bluth (Tony Hale), who, as a result of his mother's dominance and sheltering, is unstable, socially inept and prone to panic attacks.

Michael's older brother GOB (George Oscar Bluth II; pronounced /dʒoʊb/ "Jobe"), played by Will Arnett, is an unsuccessful professional magician whose business and personal schemes usually fail. He primarily uses a Segway for transportation, and sometimes converses with others from it while stationary, as if it were a pulpit. GOB is used by his father to undermine Michael's control of the family business.

Michael's twin sister Lindsay (Portia de Rossi) is a self-proclaimed activist, who is flamboyant and materialistic, continually desiring to be the center of attention. She enjoys being objectified, but also protests it. She is married to Tobias Fünke (David Cross), a "Never Nude," who became an aspiring actor after his psychiatrist's license was revoked, and whose language and behavior often have inadvertent homosexual connotations. Their attention-starved daughter Mae "Maeby" Fünke (Alia Shawkat) is the polar opposite of her cousin George Michael — skipping school, cheating on homework, and stealing money from the family's banana-stand business. The ever-rebellious teen, Maeby finds her chief motivation in going against her parents' wishes.

Several other characters regularly appear in minor roles. George Sr.'s identical twin brother Oscar (also played by Jeffrey Tambor) is a lethargic ex-hippie seeking the affection of George's wife Lucille. Lucille Austero, or "Lucille 2", played by Liza Minnelli, is Lucille's rival and Buster's love interest. Carl Weathers plays a parody of himself, as an unemployed, ultra-cheapskate actor. Other notable characters include: Annyong (Justin Lee), Lucille's adopted Korean child and Buster's rival; Kitty Sanchez (Judy Greer), George Sr.'s former secretary; Barry Zuckerkorn (Henry Winkler), the family attorney; Ann Veal (Mae Whitman), George Michael's deeply religious girlfriend; Ben Stiller as Tony Wonder a heralded magician who is part David Copperfield, part David Blaine; Steve Holt (Justin Grant Wade), a schoolmate of George Michael and Maeby; and Scott Baio as attorney Bob Loblaw (pronounced, "Ba blah blah"), a replacement for Barry Zuckerkorn, in part, because he "skews younger" (an allusion to Baio's "Happy Days" character "Chachi," who was brought in to inject youth into the aging Winkler's "Fonzie."). Julia Louis-Dreyfus, Charlize Theron, and Amy Poehler also play recurring characters."

I am the first to admit, I really don't like sitcoms. To me, real life is MUCH funnier…I never quite got "Seinfeld" and really didn't care for "Cheers" (don't hate me), but once in awhile had a few good laughs on "Friends" and of course, there was well-written dramedy like "Sex and the City", but that weepy, missing-a-show sadness for "SATC" is writing for another day.

Tomorrow marks the LAST episode of "Arrested Development..."

WTF???

How is it POSSIBLE that a bs, wood-stiff, blah-blah-blah, un-original show like, "Two and a half men" is the NUMBER ONE sitcom in America but the beloved Bluth family just CAN'T be saved?? Don't people know what is FUNNY anymore?? Overly-botoxed Charlie Sheen and sad-sad sidekick Jon Cryer …I think NOT!!!

Instead I wait in tearful longing that someone picks this series up though hope is not entirely lost. My understanding is that there is a snowball’s chance in hell that Showtime STILL might be interested. Showtime would be a great fit for “Arrested Development.” The show’s survival would no longer be as closely tied to ratings. Then I would be dependent on buying the newest episodes since I don't have cable, but it would be well worth every penny.



PS. Yes. I know! Enough, right? But I had to say that the kids on this how (Michael Cera and Alia Shawkat, oh and the girl that plays "egg," I mean, "Anne")are sincerely some of the BEST comedic actors I have ever witnessed...SO funny, so funny.

a little thought for the day...

Watch your thoughts; they become your words. Watch your words; they become your actions. Watch your actions; they become your habits. Watch your habits; they become your character. Watch your character for it will become your destiny.
unknown

salting the wound

Not to rub it in to any of my wonderful people in the Midwest or those who nest in D.C. (DADDIE!!) OR New Jersey, but its like the beginning of summer here out West or at least those first days of Spring. It's amazingly beautiful. NOT to rub it in :)

Happy Sunny Day....Happy Sunny Day!

How is it possible that its February ...??? Oh and Happy Groundhog Day!!

Acid Rain in my cornflakes

Last night, after displaying signs of vertigo after perusing the paint section at the Hollywood Home Depot for a half hour too long, I was later greeted by a very angry woman in my laundry room who so eloquently let me know that my taking her 3/4-the-way dry clothes out of the washing machine and placing them on the dryer was JUST NOT acceptable. But THAT wasn't enough. Her mother then WAITED for me on my way down to put my things in the dryer to ONCE AGAIN let me know taking her daughters clothes out of the machine was NOT acceptable. Neighbor Friend was with me, THANK GOD, but man oh man, talk about a creepy situation. They were double-teaming and yelling assumptions that just DO NOT exist. Very bad.

Our laundry room has three washers and three dryers. For the size of our building, that is just not very much. I have been apartment dwelling for YEARS and usually give people a grace period as to how long I can hold out on letting their clothes lie dormant, but last night, it was a different story. These clothes were CLEARLY almost dry and had taken the mishape of the washing machine. Whatever the case may be, it was a truly hellish situation and one where communication was JUST NOT getting thru...

The BB was on a rampage earlier this morning so that just added dose of arsenic to my already acid rain-laced cornflakes...

CALGON! Take me away!

(But I did find some nice paint colors and have a fun project in store.)

Intolerable Cruelty

On Saturday, I finally went and saw, "Brokeback Mountain." J and I opted to see it at the The Arclight.

Let me start by saying, I LOVE the Arclight. Its assigned seating but patrons can choose their spots. GREAT people watching in ticket lines. The sound is great, all of the theaters have stadium seating, comfy seats, good munchie selections AND ushers who try to accommodate you while viewing your flick. (AND…there's an actual bar with actual drinkie-drinks.)

We arrived just a few minutes before the movie was starting, so our seat selection was down to the last few. There were a few on the very bottom and few on the very top. We went to the top.

As we nestled comfortably into our chairs, there was a woman on one side of me and then an empty chair next to her. That was fine. What happened next was NOT fine…

A woman comes barreling up the stairs with the LARGEST popcorn available to man, nachos, well-sized drink and loudly barks to her friend, "_____, can you move over to the next seat??"

Oh no. So Lady-with-the-concessions plops down right next to me. At first, everything seemed okay, except as the movie started, the crunching had begun. Now, I know. People crunch popcorn. This was different as she was putting so much effort in that she was taking obsessive LARGE breaths in between. She was "out of breath" from eating her vat of popcorn.

As that slowly started my descent into anger-at-movies-hell, the two of them started to have little discussions.

"Isn't that Heath Ledger?"

"Oh yes, that's him."

"What was he in again, Braveheart?"

"No, NOT Braveheart, The Patriot."

"Oh yea. He looks different in this movie…."

"He sure does."

These little dialogues happened about every 12 minutes. Yes. I was checking the time to see how long it would take for the next one to start.

"Isn't that guy Jake Gyllenhaal?"

"From Spider-man?"

"No, that's Tobey something."

"Oh, right."

And my personal favorite:

"I know her! That girl (woman is pointing to the extra in a scene and loudly saying this) …she's my doctor'sbestfriendsdaughter-in-law. He told me to watch for her! She's finally getting a break in the movies."

"Wonderful."

J, of course, had no one on the other side of him and of course, I was the only person to his right so after the movie, when I started my tirade about these vicious interruptions, he was like, "What? I didn't hear a thing."

The movie was good. Heath was amazing.

And then there was yesterday morning. I honestly thought the voice from the original Amityville Horror was alive and thriving in my living room ("GET OUT…")

I planned on making chili yesterday. At around 8 a.m., I squintally got out of bed, put on a pot of coffee and start the chili process.

As I blearily put together the coffee stuff, I heard this loud noise, like an airplane or a surge of warped speed light saber sounds. I walked to my window thinking a plane was about to smash into my building when it occurred to me, the people across the way must have gotten a surround sound system…it works. Especially at 8 a.m. on a Sunday. Yay for me.

My "only in L.A." for the day?
As I was pulling out of my apartment, a 60+ year old man was jogging, barefoot in his Speedos around the neighborhood!

heart attack special...

Hoo-ray for Friday!!!

Even our new little lemon friend is happy...

Things that happen when boredom strikes...

Yesterday afternoon, T and I were bored, bored, bored. We found a lost hard-boiled egg on the floor in our kitchen and thought we might make him our new adventure pal. That didn't work out because someone threw him in the garbage. We then settled for Mr. Pathetic, but cute, LemonHead.

Well Dunne

I was at the gym last night. There are four TV's in the cardio section, perched up on the wall. The TV's have "closed captioning" on so if I am music-less or magazine-less, I will usually read the screen. There are usually news programs on and then Larry King live. Love Larry King.

Last night, however, as I rode the elliptical, sweating buckets all over my person and People magazine, I nearly fell off my machine when I read what came across the screen.

Last night's guest was Dominick Dunne. I love Dominick Dunne…HUGE fan. Day-am, that man has been in and out of the ringer a million times over between being a well-known public alcoholic, was once PUNCHED out by a man because "Frank Sinatra told me to," lost his daughter, Dominique (you remember her from "Poltergeist"…she was big sister Dana, who is gone most of the movie, until she comes home to the ghostly chaos and starts shrieking, "What's happening….!!!!!") to a stalker boyfriend, but all in all, his books, "Vanity Fair" articles and everything else he touches, are fascinating.

Last night, he and Larry were talking about The Rich and infamous families. The Menendez brothers were a part of the discussion, as were a slew of other stories, but at one point, he started talking about the Hilton and proclaimed that Ms. Paris earned a WHOPPING (this on top of her VERY meaty slab of Hilton inheritance) $7 million dollars last year. He also said she was at Sundance and he saw a clip of her helping herself to some "freebie" Chanel (and let's face it, a girl of that money magnitude HARDLY needs a freebie).

To me, Paris earned $7 big ones simply for "showing up." Is her 15 minutes EVAR going to end?? She gets anywhere from $150,000 to $200,000 to appear at a party for 20 minutes. Does she REALLY add that much flare to an event??

I remember having a discussion about a year ago with someone at a party. We were having a little debate about the Kennedy's vs. the Hiltons. He tried to tell me that the Kennedy's were "much shadier" than anything the Hiltons could conger up. Dude. Apples and Oranges. Every family has skeletons (some living and breathing tow-headed sisters), but really…beyond the fact the Kennedy's were political folks, at least the kids (messed up or not) were public servants and DID do things to help out the community. Paris offers nothing. Nada. Zilch. NOT even good fashion tips and especially NO good tips on being an animal mother.

One good thing, the people of Sundance MUST Be in agreement. This was on MTV.com

"God Save the Hollywood Industry," read the banner. Below it hung a sign with Paris Hilton's disembodied head flashing a vapid smile in the middle of a red circle with a "Ghostbusters"-like slash through her face. Beneath that was the entryway to one of Tuesday night's most popular industry parties, the crowd roaring with conversations about how hard-partying pseudo-stars are undermining the Sundance experience." From Kevin Smith, ""[Hilton] is just like, 'Where's there a camera? I'm there. Where's my little dog? In two years, nobody's going to remember that name; mark my words," he laughed, sounding like he'd already R.S.V.P.'d to the "God Save the Hollywood Industry" party himself…."

A little more Hilton: The Chicago Hilton has this beautiful room on the top of it that has purple lights beaming out of it on specific nights. Apparently, Conrad Hilton, who was married to Elizabeth Taylor for just a little under a year, made this amazingly stunning room specifically for her. Imagine if that would have survived!

One other thing…some folks in Detroit want the day after the Superbowl to become a national holiday since apparently over half a million people take the day off anyway. They are calling it, "DA-Day". I am thinking there should be a floating holiday OR a "DAA-Day" for people like myself that think the Academy Awards IS their Superbowl.

Miracles and other extraordinary events...

You know, my mani/pedi people are true miracle workers.

Take this dry weather, right? My hands were looking CREE-py and crepe...like the paper. My fingernails looked like I stuck them in pencil sharpeners and rather than make anyone gag or throw up in their mouth a little, I won't even talk about my feet.

But then, you go to the Nail place. Sometimes you don't get the good ones, but today, I got two truly gifted nail people. They took my Nightmare Nails and turned them into colorful, clean and public-friendly appendages. Now they are NICE Nails!



All this for a very low price and peace of mind! Btw, that's the new InStyle with Uma. It's a good one!

Blissful state of being

Well, I am definitely back in L.A. On Monday, it took me an HOUR and 10 minutes to get to work (on a weekend, it takes 15 minutes to do that same drive). While I don't think I could EVER live in Arizona, I definitely appreciated the wide open spaces. Even the gym my friend and I worked out in had TONS of space.

On a different note (no pun intended), I am SO over hearing about how the American Idol judges (SIMON) are so mean. I don't think I will be following the show like I have in past years, but of course, the auditions are loads of fun. But they are AUDITIONS and these total wankers show up thinking that they are either too good for the show or can't take the criticism.

Okay. Now that I am officially ALL over the board today, here is something fun to do in your spare time. The idea is to enter your name and "looks like" (make sure you do it in parenthesis) into Google, hit the "google search" button and see what pops up.

It's amazing what "Lisa looks like" ...

LISA LOOKS LIKE SHE COULD USE A GOOD TOUNGE LASHING!
What'd I do??

Lisa looks like she's going to look great AND be comfortable
YAY for me!

lisa looks like someone's drunk mom.
Maybe NOT the mom...

Lisa looks like a total brat who's making fun of Acid.
Huh??

Lisa looks like a goddess in her newly-finished Goddess yarns poncho!
Why thank you (taking a curtsy)

Lisa looks like she is going to throw up
Work is hard

Lisa looks like a prostitute
Only on a good day..

Lisa looks like she's been caught shoplifting at Saks.
No, that would be Winona...

Lisa looks like she's having a great time
ALWAYS

Lisa looks like she just won the Lotto.
From the web to the Universe...

Lisa looks like a zombie
Only at work

AIRPLANE!

I flew to Phoenix this past Thursday evening. Immediately I was happy as it’s a great flight since its only an hour AND this particular flight happened to be quite empty.

Since I was flying Southwest where you choose your seats, I opted to stay close to the front and in an aisle. A guy in his mid-to-late 40's was occupying the window seat, which was nice since we had room in between us.

He started to tell me that he'd grown up in Long Beach and had surfed every inch of the California coast. At one point in his life, he LIVED in his Jeep and surfed every second that it was possible. On the off days, he would detail cars. He ate beans out of the can for several years. I was fascinated. He did this for NINE years. He then joined AA and has been clean for 11 years. Now he was married, helping to raise his wife's three kids in Arizona, but was frequently flying back to his hometown to check in on a business.

We then started to talk about his mothers death. At this point, he told me I should be a reporter, as he said I was really good at asking pointed questions. I am not sure WHAT I asked to provoke this conversation, but since his earlier stories were helping along my hour flight, I wanted to hear his story.

His mother had been ravaged by cancer. I was expecting some tears or some really heavy story. I mean, he told me he took care of her for several months prior. He then told me he held her while she was dying. But this wasn't that "I wept over her ailing carcass story," but instead he was demonstrating those last few minutes….he said he was holding her up, slightly shaking her and yelling, "YEA MA….GET TO THE LIGHT MA!!!!!….GO TO THE LIGHT!!!!....LEAVE THIS F_ING PLACE AND GOOOOOO!!!! LOOK FOR THE WHITE LIGHT!!!! YEEEEEAAAAAHHHHH" He demonstrated this while holding his fists up like he was at a 1960's peace rally. He told me the nurses were running into the room in complete shock while he told them to "GET OUT AND LET HER GO…" He re-dramatized this entire scenario, complete with how he was holding her, his expressions and even the volume he was yelling out.

Yes. This is a true story. He said it was one of the most profound moments of his life…I'll bet. Made me think of how sad we all get. Maybe he has the right idea.

My flight back was a little different. It was a PACKED house. Again, I found an aisle seat close to the front of the plane. I was reading my Rolling Stone (which, by the way, this month's issue with Neil Young on the front is PACKED with great stories).

As the aircraft settled in, one of the flight people got onto the intercom. She welcomed us to our flight and said there was a surprise pilot on the plane. No one was really paying any attention until she mentioned, "you'd know him from movies like "Saturday Night Live" … the plane quieted down whilst we waited to see Mr. Travolta pop his Scientological head thru the door. Instead, another flight person popped thru and said, "Gotchya! Now that we have your attention…let's talk about your seatbelts…"

As I started to ease into the Neil story in my Stone, I heard a little voice singing. The voice was really great and I immediately figured the kid singing was on her way to L.A. for an audition. But as I listened a little more closely, I heard her saying things like, "Jesus is my best friend in the world…Daddy is, too."

As I slowly creaked my head across to see where this was coming from, I nearly fell over in shock. DUDES. It was the REAL Ned Flanders and his family!! I am NOOOOT kidding you. Ned was sitting on the aisle seat. He had his puffy, mullet-like hair, the bushy mustache, the glasses, a powder blue turtleneck and Dockers. On top of that his daughter, the one who'd been singing, was about 10 and wearing an identical outfit as were the two other little boys who must have been the brother spawn. Throughout the flight, they were playing games on their little trays like, "Connect the dots for Jesus," and "Unscramble thy Lord."

I was not being a stalker, but their voices carried and much like a car crash, I could not look away. When out flight folks brought us our drinks, the singing little girl shrieked to the woman behind me (that I figured out was Mama Flanders),."Mommy…don't be jealous but I have … HOT CHOCOLATE.")

At that point, I was dying. I wanted to turn around and see who could have produced the other half of the Flanders clan.

When the flight landed and I went to grab my carry-on, I saw MF. She was draped in a BIG arce denim smock that was stitched through with butterflies and apples and was wearing a cross that looked like it was make of grass (the kind that you mow, not that you smoke.)

SO, all in all, my hour long journeys were quite entertaining, if not a little frightening.

Btw. Phoenix was a lot of fun. I always said I did not like Phoenix, but it was dislike by association (the people I was forced to hang around with made my time VERY dull). This time was pure fun and frolic.

My friend Anne had a co-joined birthday party (her and four other January b-day people) where we took TONS of pics. This one was on our roll. We are STILL figuring out WHO she is, WHERE she came from and HOW she ended up on our film!!!

Seriously...

Scenario:

Afternoon meeting to go over some new software.

Our wonderful computer guy comes to give our group a "quick" lesson in some very ez-to-use software. I use the word "quick" because I am being sarcastic and am bitter.

Our office is divided up by the "I care", "I kind of care", the "I don't f-ing care" and the "who are you people and where am I??"...and then there is the group who ask questions. Dozens of questions. Zillions and gazillions of meaningless, no point, "I am speaking to hear my own voice" and "I LOVE my voice" questions.

May I mention I used this software, all by my lonesome with no instructions two months ago? T was with me and let me say, as a non-computer savvy person, it was simple. The meeting COULD have been that simple. The five page packet that had lots of pictures made it kindergarten-easy, but NO-OH. The meeting that should have been 10 minutes lasted a whopping 45 minutes. Five minutes of our guys nice and friendly spiel and the other 40 spent listening to a myriad of "stick needles in my eye" stories.

But there were cookies. Two trays. YUM.

P.S. My boss took a slew of the cookies home. That's a story for another day...

I gots me the jitters...

That would be the coffee jitters...

T, my darling office friend that sits just a kick under the desk away and I have been consuming lethal amounts of coffee all afternoon. What started out as a pleasant stroll together to the kitchen at around 9 a.m. has now brought us to 5-ish p.m...and after watching a few hours (alright..I am exaggerating) minutes of some REALLY bad Internet shows, we are now fizzling out. At our height of the coffee high, I was suddenly brought back to the movie, "Requiem for a Dream," minus the hard drugs, mood music and gut-wrenching end.

Btw. I watched a few minutes of "Dancing with the Stars" last night. I make fun of George Hamilton quite a bit for NO good reason, but last night, I fell in love with the senior-esque, over-tanned charmer. He is SOOO debonair and was smiling like a Cheshire cat the entire time, which immediately made me want to vote for him. He's got old-school swoon going on.

I missed everyone else.

The Bitter Sweet...

Thank goodness. It's over. The cornucopia of crazy holiday fun is D-O-N-E for another year.

Truthfully, this was one of the best years, without a doubt. Lots of festivity, lots of joyous moments and really, time off that made me realize more and more how positively wonderful it would be to have a lot of self-made money to play with while living high on the hog. Sigh. It happens all the time, so maybe that should be on the "to do" list this year, right??

What seems to be the common theme EVERYWHERE is change. Whether this means a new do', a new look, a new way of thinking or putting a kibosh on something bad, there seems to be a rejuvenation happening to everyone, moreso than I have noticed in years...or am I just getting old??

As far as resolutions...rather than the usual, "lose 15 pounds, run a marathon, do this or that.." I am opting for a more practical, yet crafty approach...taking what is there and making it better.

Let's face it. We all want, but this past season made me really focus on what I have and peeps, I have A LOT. I am rich beyond my wildest dreams. My apartment is safe, cute and comfortable, I have peace of mind, a cat that now has CLEAN teeth (!!), MORE comfy stuff ("things") than most people could imagine and most importantly, I have some of the most fabulous people around me, whether here or far away...everything else that needs to happen is out there, it just needs to be tweaked, churned, coddled, tapped into...you get my point.

Anyway, Happy New Year and may you find what you need...

It's a Wonderful Life...(A LITTLE TRIVIA...)

1. What business did George's father start?
a. Old man Potter's Emporium
b. The Bailey Bros. Building & Loan
c. General Electric
d. Bailey Bros. Savings & Loan

2. What was George's wife's name?
a. Mary
b. Mary Pat
c. Mary Ellen
d. Marybeth

3. What was Sam Wanewright's saying/greeting?
a. I'll be back!
b. Who's your daddy!
c. Good morning!
d. Hee-haw!

4. What was George's Guardian Angel's name?

a. Clarence
b. Karl
c. Clementine
d. Joe

5. How much did uncle Billy lose?

a. $3,000
b. $6,000
c. $8,000
d. $9,000

6. How did uncle Billy lose the money?

a. Video poker at an online casino
b. Gave it to Mr. Potter wrapped in a newspaper
c. Threw it in the trash by accident
d. Martini's Bar & Grill

7. What was the cop's name?

a. Ernie
b. Oscar
c. Bert
d. Big Bird

8. What was the maid saving her money for before giving it to George?
a. A new husband
b. Buy a House
c. A divorce if she ever got a husband
d. Trip to Las Vegas


9. What book did the angel carry with him?

a. The Adventures of Tom Sawyer
b. The Hardy Boys
c. Touched by an Angel
d. Heavenly Recipes

10. No man is a failure who has...

a. a mobile phone.
b. high speed internet access.
c. friends.
d. a loving wife.

ANSWERS in COMMENTS...

The Cult of Proselytization

First he publicly attacked Brooke Shields regarding her post-partum depression, which thankfully, caused a HUGE amount of backlash.

He practically trampled Oprah with his high-happy- drama antics.

He knocked up his girlfriend.

Once again, the self-named King of Psychiatry and Scientology, formerly known as once-decent actor, Tom Cruise, had some "vital" information to offer the firemen that risked their lives during 9/11. He and his child/girlfriend Katie threw a "little" benefit a few days ago in NYC to offer his "expert" advice. (The tickets for this night of learning from a "pro" started at the wee price of $6,250…let's sit with this while we ponder the thought that the median salary for a firefighter is $46,160.) Rather than encouraging these people who are still suffering from their own personal aftermaths from that fateful day to seek proper help, he is asking them to STOP their meds and the other treatments they are on to do the therapy he sees fit. Oh, and his solution?? The Canola solution….yes. Drinking canola oil and having a Scientology "purification".

I am the first to offer up that I believe in alternative methods of healing, but having read over the "Elders of Scientology's'" ideas of purification, it just screams C-U-L-T.

This is also coming from the same man that thinks he understands psychiatry and can rightfully tell people how to deal with their mental health- - through vitamins and by putting themselves through "talk therapy"…

Let me start by saying that Tom Cruise had some good points when he initially started his campaign. The quiet before the storm were his remarks about children being over-medicated. The number of children on Ritalin has sky-rocketed in the past 10 years and I am in complete agreement that hampering children with these drugs is completely ridiculous and unnecessary. Pre-Crazy Tom, he had some very valid points. I am sure if diagnoses for this "disease" had been as widely spread as it is now, we ALL would have been diagnosed as children.

But what scares me is his irresponsibility when dealing with REAL chemical illnesses. Now, I am hardly one to talk of such knowledge, but what I do know, having dealt with a mentally ill person on a very personal basis, is that medication is a mentally ill persons lifeline. Trust me when I say, I don't condone pill-popping for anyone, but having watched a mentally ill person go off of their meds for even a few days was like watching a reality-TV version of "Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde." And having never talked with Tom Cruise, I do not know of his experience with mental illness And who knows…maybe he actually has counseled “hundreds” of people suffering from various addictions with his methods of "talk therapy"! But logically speaking, talking with someone who has any acute psychosis is moot. There is no reasoning. There is no logical train of thought. Asking someone who is acutely schizophrenic “How do you feel?” and attempting to engage in some sort of verbal communication is futile.

As if there is not enough stigma on mentally ill people, now we have a megastar who thinks he can cure them all…I guess it just disgusts me to think that he is being so irresponsible. Can you imagine if some psychotic person decides they are going to go off their lithium for a few weeks?? Then they rob a bank, kill a bunch of people and when questioned, "But Tom Cruise said I didn't need my medication…"

Excuse my dust

Besides the fact I have been unbelievably ill since landing at LAX over a week ago, we are in the midst of moving-house at work. The bad part? Its a temporary move and they are transforming our gloriously large suite into small, sectioned-off, crate-like structures. Why should you care?? Well, really, my only claim to good fame at this job is the fact I have a SWEET little set-up all my own, in a BIG area that is mine...ALL mine ...mwah haw haw.

Our move takes us to floor 25, which I think will be a fun little transition as T and I will be sharing space AND there is a cool, strange stairway in the middle of suite. Then we will be forced a few months later to come back to our new, midget-sized digs. Hmph.