Friday, May 31, 2002

Today's pet peeve: people who use the term "light year" as a unit of measurement for time rather than distance.

E.g.: "Girl, did you see the video booths at the new bath house? They are light years ahead of those dingy old firetraps at the bookstore."

Thursday, May 30, 2002

FOUR BOOKS I WOULD WRITE IF I EVER FOUND THE TIME

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Hun For All and All For Hun:
Tyranny That Works

Given our theoretically democratic political climate, we tend to revere stories of past leaders like Moses, Lincoln, Ghandi who took the time to listen to the wishes, concerns, and advice of their people. Might there not, however, be some admirable quality to be found in some of those autocrats we're prone to vilify on the spot: Nero, George III, or perhaps Pol Pot? I mean, could Idi Amin have been all bad?

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Nancy Drew and the Case of the Funny Balloon

Nancy Drew and her pals George and Bess discover a strange, slimy balloon at the bottom of a wastebasket in Nancy's parent's bathroom. What could it be? Is it a clue? Will it lead them to a mysterious catburglar? No! It's a condom, silly, and throughout the course of the book, Nancy gets a thorough education in all forms of sexuality from her father, her mother, Hannah the housekeeper, and of course, Togo, the family terrier. A nightstand reader for the 12 year old who's curious about the hair on her ho-ho.

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Pottery Barndance

Set beneath the flowering chestnut trees of Pennsylvania, this is a story of budding love between two young Amish men. Will they renounce their love, choosing instead to marry appropriate young women from the village and fritter away their days plowing fields and snorting cocaine? Or will Jacob and Isaac escape together by candlelight to sinful Philadelphia, open a flower shop, and furnish their home through online shopping sprees? A bawdy, boxer-ripping romance!

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Katie Couric is a Really Nice Lady

A sort of "day in the life" of America's perkiest morning show host, from the time she administers her 4am triple-espresso enema booster, through her train ride to the NBC studios (during which she mingles with the common people and repeatedly gives up her seat for the elderly and handicapped), to the good-natured flirting she instigates with her humpy but unavailable co-host Matt Lauer, to her gracious avoidance of advances from the supremely creepy Al Roker, through her countless interviews with Really Boring Schmoes and her long schlep home. She loves homos! She doesn't get mad when people step on her feet! She's a semi-aggressive journalist, in a cutesy sort of way! She's a bonafide Really Nice Lady.

Thursday, May 23, 2002

My boyfriend and the Manstress are leaving today at 6:00pm. They are going to Pensacola. There, they will drink alcohol and, I can only assume, socialize with other homosexual men.

This is good.

I say this not because I plan to have a wildly debauched weekend. Nor am I particularly happy to be separated from my one and only. Rather, I'm excited because for the next several days I will have the bulk of the house (upstairs excluded) to myself. That means, once I wake up, I don't have to worry about disturbing anyone else. If I wish go to the backyard at 7:00am and start breaking up concrete (a chore that desperately needs finishing), I can do so. If I wish to paint or sand or mop various areas of the house at the crack of dawn, I can, and no one will shout at me from the bedroom, threatening to rip my legs off. Not that anyone would do that anyway, but you know what I mean...

It's the secret of our relationship: there are spaces in our togetherness.

Wednesday, May 22, 2002

A&F said it is not their intention to offend anyone. "The underwear for young girls was created with the intent to be lighthearted and cute," the company said in a statement. "Any misrepresentation of that is purely in the eye of the beholder."

-- CNN

Yeah, and that bright green, psychedelic-looking thing down at the head shop is meant for tobacco, so get your mind out of the gutter.

Is it just me, or is A&F trying to produce a half-assed, milquetoast equivalent to Benetton's often truly shocking mid-80s advertising campaigns?

Monday, May 20, 2002

My life, revealed.

Friday, May 17, 2002

I woke up this morning with a song in my head.

Wanna know what it was?

Can you guess?

C'mon.

Give it a try.

Okay, give up?

"He's the lovematic grandpa! He fills our hearts with loooooove."

Thursday, May 16, 2002

Questions I have been asked in the past 24 hours:

• How do I put a document in the trash can thingy?



• Can you help us organize a silent auction by Sunday?



• Wanna see horny teens at the petting zoo?



• Got spare change for a beer, sir?



• Would you like to supersize that?

Wednesday, May 15, 2002

I've said all along that the bitch is trouble.

Monday, May 13, 2002

The beach was fun, in a way.

I swam in the water, which was mostly blue.

I saw many jellyfish, but no sharks.

I grew tan, except where I grew red.

I went shopping in outlet malls, where I found good shoes and bad shoes.

I worked on Pop Tarts, which isn't funny yet.

I have been informed by one of my favorite trivia princesses that we are not the first Pop Tarts, which means we have a reputation to live up to.

Friday, May 10, 2002

I have been very quiet.

Nothing interesting has happened in my world.

With the following exceptions:

• We've begun writing our summer show. It's called Pop Tarts. More on that soon.



• Somehow, I also managed to get involved in a production of Dirty Blonde and a remount of Hedwig. (How does this happen? Do I really have a problem saying no? Or do I have a paralyzing fear of being left out?)



• I am nearly finished with my water garden. I have to plant a couple of things around the edges, then line the thing.



• A certain hound has gotten much better about not peeing in the bed.



• A certain boyfriend continues to love me despite the many, many quirks and bugs in my operating system.

All right, I'm outta here. I'm running off to the beach for a couple of days with my dad and brothers. I'm sure it sounds like torture to some of you, but me, I'm really looking forward to it. Someone take care of Jonno, will ya?

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