sunday morning checklist

Things to do on a Sunday morning:

1.  Make some delicious coffee with the perfect blend of italian sweet cream coffeemate and over the moon skim milk (check)

2. Watch a bit of "Back to the Future: Part 3" while catching up with friends over text message (check)

3. Call the New Hampshire Police department to have them wrestle the gun out of your suicidal mothers' hands (check)

4. Clean the bathrooms and kitchen floor (check)

Now I'm going for a bike run.  I think I accomplished enough this morning.

something's gotta give

Do you want to know what I'm a little tired of?

I run at least 30miles  a week and live on a diet of cottage cheese and activia yogurt with the occasional tuna/whole wheat sandie from subway and my mid-section still looks like Mariah Carey after two bottles of champagne and three orders of fried mac and cheese balls.

that's all.

Cheetah was visiting this week. I took 3days off work and I went to the airport 4 times.

The best moment of this visit (if we're not to include sushi or ice cream sundaes or the party we threw in my living room in which all of Jack Choys' rice crispy treats disappeared and Franklin yelled) may have been when I picked up Cheetah at the Montage hotel and had to ask the woman if she'd seen "a statuesque borderline trans having drinks with Perez Hilton".

My driving mix was comprised of the following songs:

• Suspended in Time - Olivia Newton John
• Forget About It - Alison Krauss
• You Make My Dreams Come True - Hall & Oates
• The Chain - Fleetwood Mac
• Creep - Radiohead
• True - Spandau Ballet
• You'll Think of Me - Keith Urban
• Sara - Starship
• Enjoy the Silence - Depeche Mode
• Dreams - Fleetwood Mac
• Magic - Olivia Newton John
• Crazy on You - Heart
• Mr. Blue Sky - Electric Light Orchestra
• Thief - Belly
• Go Your Own Way - Fleetwood Mac
• Paranoid Android - Radiohead

When women call a movie studio, they are always in a bad mood.

I was a willow last night in my dream.

Take Coldwater Canyon (make sure you stay in the right lane) to the 101 east to the 110 south to the 10 west to Cloverfield Ave veer right at 26th St and then go right on Arizona Ave and left on Princeton St.   That's how to get from Nicole Kidman's house to my house in under an hour.

station wagon!

Growing up, this would be on tv late at night while Nana was fast asleep and Momma was no place to be found and it would terrify me. Now I watch it when I want to fall asleep.

this is the best costume for today

I am home from my run.   Today is the most gorgeous summer day so I wore a tank top with Sarah McCann's short-shorts from "Carrie: the musical" and 1987 gas station sunglasses and my pink ipod shuffle.  I find wearing things that I could potentially be gay-bashed and shivved in makes me run faster.

At the beach I was only checked out by women.  A couple high school aged gay boys stopped to compliment me on my fashions and I responded the same way I did when Ross and I went out to bars last week and the high school aged gay boys complimented me on my glasses:  "What a sweetheart. Thank you so much."  Then I walk away like Cristal Connors.

this is the sound of my soul.

Once upon a time there was a girl named Jody Sawyer.
She was a ballet dancer and she wanted to be in the Fantasticks when she grew up. As soon as she could, Jody moved to New York and found that the Fantasticks closed because it couldn’t afford to keep its lease up. Les Miserables closed as well.

Jody was adorable and intelligent and self-effacing (but not in a sad way). Jody was genuinely talented, but not commercially. For Jody, finding parts took care and demanded a casting director who was able to look outside the proverbial box. This same delicateness could be applied to her relations with men. The fact that Jody wore her heart on her sleeve is what made her an artist, but it also made her personal life a tumultuous one. Like Goldilocks, Jody found herself being attracted to all the wrong bears – trying each on for size and only winding up disappointed and alone with her pointe shoes and expansive dvd collection.


One of my favorite summer memories comes from the period I lived on 45th street/8th Avenue. It was dark out and I was walking to meet someone at the bakery. Despite the fact that it was hot as Africa out, I was wearing a cableknit sweater with my shorts and Adidas sambas. Out of nowhere, some queen in a convertible pulled up blaring Cher’s “I Found Someone” and EVERYONE on the street just lit up and started singing along. It was really magical. Cher has that effect on people.

Most of my other summer memories involve me adolescence on the shore – but those stories are for another time.

Tonight I am going to see Sandra Bullock in the theatre, I hope it’s the theatre that has the frozen yogurt (SEAN!).

swatchdogs and diet cokeheads

Today is not for work or even for running on the beach.

Today is for watching the latter episodes of Twin Peaks - the Harold Smith/Heather Graham years. The curious thing about Heather Graham is that she was actually super interesting and kinda indie in the early 90s. I'll give her up to Boogie Nights. Then, well, you know. Bless her heart.

I met Laura Palmer at work once. She was auditioning for the tv version of "Crash" and they made her wait in the lobby for over 2 hours and she didn't even get the part. She had a Birkin bag so I think she must have married well. Good for her. I told her she was a life hero and she seemed to appreciate that. I wasn't even lying.

Growing up, I used to watch "fire walk with me" on a weekly basis. As I get older, I have less tolerance for Moira Kelly.

hocus pocus

My therapist said that I’m coming into my face yesterday.

Leeza Gibbons came into work today with her agent and she had a new face that made her look like an evil hybrid of Meg Ryan and Debbie Gibson in the "only in my dreams" video, only with the voice of Leeza Gibbons. I don't like it.

My third favorite part of the gayparade was when a 300pound black woman dressed in black sweats went into the Gelson's supermarket for plastic bags and then proceeded to saunter right through the middle of the parade, soliciting the marchers for all the free pens and buttons and lube she could carry.

My other favorite part of the gayparade was when a tweaked out bear bumrushed the Chelsea Handler float and was tackled by security. Chelsea was wearing a hot pink scarf wrapped around her head like Jane Mansfield and turquoise heels – this earned more respect from me than anything she could have done for any gay cause.

All in all, it's safe to say I don't like parades. I'd rather go on a picnic.

I see the crystal visions.

I guess if I have one regret in life, it would be that I was not in Friday the 13th Part 7 or A Nightmare on Elm St. part 5.

I am not going to see Transformers part 2 even though I have the utmost respect for Megan Fox and her body of work.

good to the last drop

I woke up late today after taking a whole ativan - which is allowed because it’s a weekend.  

Last night I had bad dreams, but I have to pull myself together because Julia is coming over for brunch this afternoon.  I'm making pancakes with activia yogurt and morningstar sausage patties and some sort of egg dish.

I went downstairs to grind the Starbucks whole bean coffee and put it all in the Maxwell House tin – grinding coffee is not fun or anything that I would recommend for anyone to have to do before showering with only 20minutes before you’re expected at work.  While I’m sitting on the living room floor transferring the freshly ground coffee into the can, Elizabethtown is on. 

Elizabethtown is a hateful film.

Elizabethtown condescends to stewardesses and to people with dead dads and to Paula Deen.  Obviously it’s not okay to make fun of Paula Deen, but my dad died and my best friend, Brian Pike, is a stewardess.  HOWEVER, the worst atrocity committed by this Elizabethtown movie (I shant’ call it a film) is that all of the characters insist upon speaking in proclamations!  Everything is proclaimed!  Except Judy Greer, she speaks in exposition.   

I do feel bad for Legolas, though. It must have been hard for him to learn all these words.  Regardless, this is a hateful film.   (I’ve seen it 4times)

They changed the Jack in the Box logo – it’s no longer a jesusfish where the OX should be, but I will still always see it and I will still always be a little creeped out by Jack in the  Box  and I will still laugh hysterically at the name “jack in the box” whenever driving by after a drink or when particularly overtired.

these goodies stay in the jar.

today i decided to start a "blog"

hi seamus!