Humble Apologies

I'm knee-deep in moving boxes, and stressed out of my gourd.

I like my new place, but tossing out my deceased family's things yet again is painful. Urgh. I keep thinking about the Japanese, and how they honor the memory of their ancestors WITHOUT holding onto material things...lighten the load, lighten the load...

Then there's the little matter that I'm moving out of the last place I shared with both mom and Calliope (my cat who taught me about Fishies...) And that my new place doesn't even allow dogs to visit, so I'm losing Hero, too...(Nurse Sis will have full custody).

More pain! Grrrr...argh!

The REAL Secret

Best tip ever. I'm one of those gals who's tried evvvery diet and exercise program. And I have NEVER seen results like this. Tae Bo and/or the Atkins diet were close, but felt like EFFORT.

But Pilates...this is a lifetime change.

Here's the scoop. I've been doing Mari Winsor's DVD tapes 5 days a week for 3 weeks. I feel like a completely different person. Dropped a size. And this week, three friends gasped, called me skinny, and asked me what I was doing. It actually works, my back feels BETTER, and I don't notice the time passing while I'm doing it.

Here's the skinny:

Started on February 26th. Did the 2001 Beginning 20 minute tape, five days a week.
Second week: alternated daily between Beginning and Advanced tapes (2001 sereies). Advance tape is 50 minutes.
Third week: Ditto.

My friend/producing partner Heidi started doing Pilates in a gym five months ago...she's now down to her dream weight and only does two 20 minute workouts, twice a week at home to maintain.

Tapestry

Wil Wheaton has published his personal Tapestry story on his blog. (That's the number one fan favorite episode of ST:TNG (Star Trek: The Next Generation).)

Enjoy! Wil Wheaton's Tapestry

Putting on the geek cape today, aren't I?

Peace

Damn it's good to be a cylon

For the 3 readers out there who watch Battlestar Galactica, here's the Season 3 Gag Reel. Stay til the end to hear the closing song.



By the way, news on Jane Espenson's blog. She's been promoted to BSG's Co-Executive Producer. That's sort of a good news/bad news situation for us. Clearly, the show's taken a dive this season...Classic case of David and Ron's interest in other projects (Caprica) making them less involved. Bringing on a CEP backs up this suspicion. The good news is, Jane is aces. So maybe our last season, with only 13 episodes (sniff*) will be all sandwich and no spam (and a little less on the nose, please gods?). Either way, won't know until January 2008.

Run, Don't Walk

Ah, it's all true. The Korean horror film The Host is abolutely spectacular, even with needing a 20 minute trim.

Get your ass to a theatre before you read a review or see a trailer that spoils all the fun.




This film is on par with Tremors and Sean of the Dead, and you know how often one of those exhilerating masterpieces comes along.



BSG LIVE:
10:10 PM. Oops. Don't think Baltar's going to buy "We accidentally killed your lawyer." Though it's pretty unbelievable Laura wouldn't airlock his ass.

Don't you love the way Sam said "Apollo"? Almost made up for not being able to cry on cue for Kara. Ah, poor Sam. Methinks we shan't be seeing him anymore.

Check it out

Look at what my Pistoleras co-producer just forwarded me! I'm ordering one now! I love that it's by the author of The Burning Times.

Also, The View ran an hour special on clinical depression in women today. Really fabulous. I'm on an anti-depressant and it saved my life, too. It's funny, people give Oprah so much credit for changing the world, but Rosie's on the frontline doing some fabulous work as well. I hope someone puts this whole episode on YouTube.

"We are volcanoes. When we women offer our experience as our truth, as human truth, all the maps change. There are new mountains."- Ursula Le Guin

The hit list

Entertainment Weekly has a fun column that often makes me giggle. Here are two items from this week:

Studio 60's Amanda Peet has baby girl
It walked swiftly from her womb and down a hallway, riffing on school prayer.

Bijou Phillips nude, beheaded on movie poster
Once you're at "post-post-post-feminist," I think you can just shorthand it to "misogynist."

Oh, love it!

UPDATE:

Here's the poster. Not safe for work.

For the writers out there

http://jdeguzman.livejournal.com/239081.html

Zero Tolerance

The user rules of this blog clearly state posting with your contact info. Any future anonymous postings will be deleted. I have no interest in the opinions of cowards and rude people emboldened by the misconception that I don't know who they are.

My blog, my rules, my safe community for the readers I enjoy. Nothing's changed.

Ay, there be the contact strip

Writer/Director Rian Johnson (Brick) has an eccentric site that, among other fresh oddities, features a twice-BabelFished version of Hamlet's soliloquy.

I'm a big fan of Brick. Don't rent it at your own entertainment peril.

Currently watching the Korean film Tell Me Something, at the behest of Charles Y. Is it possible to make a good film built of cliched detective scenes? Not sure yet. Will let you know at the end. Love love love that they're objectifying men as the serial killer victims. I'm going to do that someday, but it can't be my first two films or I'll be burned at the stake.

Wonder how much money they spent on gallons of blood. We're approaching Kubrick territory here.

"You're always welcome in one of my beds"

Sh*t you not, I was just about to give up on tonight's Battlestar Galactica episode. This was the conversation in my head:

"Christ. Another effing SPEC episode. Who gives a rat's ass about all these new crew members? I could write a better spec episode. Maybe I should watch it. Hell, why am I the only one bitching about this season of BSG? Is there something wrong with me that I just can't get into it? What do I want? I mean, I'm not some shipper, but at this point the only thing that would make me watch would be Adama and Roslin having some dirty toaster....DID ADAMA JUST SAY "YOU'RE ALWAY WELCOME IN ONE OF MY BEDS??????"

Ufh. More pleasure out of that sentence and Madame President's priceless reaction than in the whole Oscar telecast. OMG that was good. Now I've got to stay up watch the rest of the episode.

How much you want to bet that line was Ms. Jane "effin" Espenson rocking the starship? I think it was.

Have I mentioned lately I want to be Roslin when I grow up? I think I will be. I'll make myself some Roslin/Mirren combo that all the boys want to take orders from. How fun would that would be?

"Go ahead. Take him away. That's it....I'm thinking of having a good-old-fashioned book burning."

Eff yeah, Roslin.

DELUSIONS OF GRANDEUR:
I had a moment during the "Woman King" episode where I wondered if the screenwriter read my blog.

FAMOUS PEOPLE'S DELUSIONS OF GRANDEUR:
Do the people who win the Oscars think the people who lost don't have God on their side? Would they still thank God if they lost? Would that still be his will? Fully expected Jennifer Hudson to spout that elitist mumbo jumbo, but Forest? Sigh.

Roslin torturning Baltar right now. OMG. "I'm dying to read the ending...Gentleman proceed..." There's Six. "Perhaps you'll consider writing a blurb for my cover."

Beautiful. Nothing makes me happier than kick-ass storytelling.

"Extortion is not an acceptable form of protest...Chief. Uh-uh. We're done."

Beautiful.

Only 18 more hours...

Until my bfriend Jack Bauer saves the world again. He's so effin' dreamy for a Truth and Justice gal like me.

In the meantime, amuse thyself with the antics of the criminally insane over at stalwart Blogs 4 Bauer. Particularly amused today by the Point/Counterpoint column with Stewie Grifith and Luke Skywalker about the senior Bauer and his dark side. I say, if you meet the Buddha on the road, kill him.

Perfect moment

Mom picked me up from school every day in the grey station wagon. Its motor had a distinctive sound. I could always pick it out before it came into view, rounding the circular driveway and passing the other moms' cars to pull up to the curb alongside me.

I was proud of the car. It was a new Datsun Maxima, and it spoke. A woman's voice would tell you if the door was open, or remind you to fasten your seatbelt. That was cool. Not as cool as Kit, the talking Trans Am on Knight Rider that had full, sentient conversations...but still cool enough to impress my classmates at St. Eugene's. That was good, because there wasn't much else they liked about me.

Every day I would see Mom driving the car around the circle at 2:45, her big Jackie O sunglasses perched on the ethnic nose she hated and tried to hide. If prayers could transform flesh, my Mom would have had a ski nose.

I would jump into the car, greet my mother, and turn to the back where my dog Turbo was waiting to greet me. Soft fur, softer heart, big kind eyes that let me know I was wanted and loved.

We would pull out onto Farmer's Lane after the traffic cleared, and Mom would ask me about my day. Or sometimes we would turn up KZST and just listen to the radio, discussing our favorite music. On the very best days, Billy Vera and the Beaters would be playing.

What would you think...

The sad song from Family Ties when Alex P. Keaton's soulmate Ellen, the liberal girl with the heart gold, left him for being a jerk.

Mom loved that song. It brought out all her drama queen tendencies. She would crank up the volume, something she otherwise hated because of her noise sensitivity, and she would bring her right hand up off the steering wheel, twist it into a fist and shove it to her face to sing. She would rarely make a noise, but she mimed passionately; head lolling, eyes furrowed.

...With tears in your eyes...

I would follow along, giggling, though lip-synching was too hard for me. I'd always end up leaning in next to her microphone hand, singing at half-voice.

...Trying to tell me you've found you another...

Turbo in the backseat would raise his head to sniff the wind, and bark along.

...And you just don't love me no more.

The song would end with a big, dramatic flourish, and we would sigh and turn down the volume, knowing it had been a good trip home.

Poor Little Rich Girl

I feel really bad. She was crying out for help the whole time, and instead the nation laughed at her.

Amazing

Check out this footage on Spiderman 3. Can't wait!

http://www.aintitcool.com/node/31482

Hey!

What's your favorite X-Files episode?

I'm watching "Pusher" again, and I think that might be it. No mythology, just classic moments for each character, great dialogue and storytelling, and a cool cool villain.

Cerulean blue.

Decaffeinated

I'm always trying to find an alternative to water that is sugar free and unleaded. In case you are, too, here are my two latest favs. Delicious, and in the medium-price range.

African Red Tea


Red tea is supposedly all sorts of good for the body. I first had this at the Ole Henriksen salon and loved it so much, I was convinced it would be out of my price range. Lucky me, only $5 for 20 bags.






Republic of Tea

This Daily Green Tea Honey Ginseng is sugar free, and helps me when I get that sweet tooth urge. The honey flavor really comes through. $9 for 50 bags.

Lynch Mania

The Lynch and Donovan event was amazing last week. Donovan played a full hour. Apparently, up until this year he's not played in public for three decades. He was crazy good, and all about world peace and visualization and so inspiring.

Lynch's talk about his non-profit organization for inner city kids to learn meditation was inspiring, too. Larua Dern was there interviewing Lynch, and they had a really sweet shorthand together. He calls her The Tidbit. Totally brilliant guy. Never paused or said "um" once.

It's always such an honor just to be in the Kodak, and my seats were in the twentieth row from the stage! Crazy to look behind me at the three mezzanines and see all the Hollywood people gathered to support artistic individuality.

The event was taped, so part of it will end up on PBS. I highly recommend watching it.

Rock on

You know what's great about the Academy Award nominations this year?

Five black actors were nominated, and it's not a story.

That's fantastic. It was just a few years ago that it was groundbreaking about Halle and Denzel, and now 5 isn't a headline.

Effin' rock on.

Now we just have to get there with the non-ingenues. This year, it's big news that three women over 50 are nominated. And in a few years...

Big Clanking Balls

I just popped another awards screener into the DVD player. A tiny indie film. Tiny. One of those personal types about sharecroppers where there's no dialogue because they can't afford sound. And before the movie started, it had several screens instructing me to calibrate my TV so I could properly enjoy the tiny indie film.

Ex-squeeze me?

Wow. If your gonads are that hairy, you really should use them for good, not evil. Like something clever that would make me vote for your film instead of both INSULTING AND PISSING ME OFF before it even starts. I mean, seriously. I have a stack of thirty films to get through in the next two weeks before I vote, and you want to giftwrap me a good reason to put yours back at the bottom?

Sigh.

I hope it's the distribution company I should be mad at. Yeah, that's the ticket. The poor filmmakers probably don't even know the dang message is there. Nah, that didn't work. I'm still mad at their film.

Oh, and for the record, my cinematographer calibrated our expensive state of the art TV for me, and it's just fine. So if it's good enough for screenings of John Toll's movies, it's good enough for any Mini DV sharecropping tale with a third world DP. Cripes.

Give me more

Of course someone's got to bitch about theircrappy city being blown up.

Meanwhile on the web, someone else had the right idea and grabbed a shot of what Jack Bauer's face looks like as the world is blown up on his watch:


Saw another spec screenwriter bragging about how they don't watch TV. It just kills me. I mean, if you're telling people you're a storyteller and you're trying to break into the hardest business in the world to break into, you might want people to think that you A) Do your homework B) Pay attention to the business and C) Realize like the rest of us that the best storytelling in the world has been on TV, going on now for, oh, 6 YEARS.

For eff's sake. Oh, and that goes for wannabe actors, too. Pay attention to the craft, and if you're ignorant, don't brag about it. If you're trying to break into Hollywood for the right reasons, you'll actually enjoy renting the series DVDs for 24, Deadwood, Rescue Me, The Shield, Nip/Tuck, Doctor Who, Life on Mars, Lost, The Office, Entourage, Dexter, Rome, Battlestar Galactica, Big Love...and these are just the world class series.

There are plenty of other quality shows that occasionally have outstanding episodes more entertaining than film, from populist Ugly Betty and Grey's Anatomy to genre-loving Supernatural and Medium. The Class and How I Met Your Mother are growing in strength every week. Hell, even Studio 60 had a great moment with their Christmas episode, and I thought yesterday's Brothers and Sisters episode finally pushed past their twee music into interesting and funny territory, with genuine chemistry between Rob Lowe and Callista Flockhart.

Odds are, if you get a job, it will be in TV, not film. It's time to stop acting ungrateful about it. Make yourself worthy, and realize what a privilege that opportunity would be.

OMG

Mad TV is on freaking fire tonight! I can't believe how much I'm enjoying this episode. Can't wait for the Medium satire; the first one was so brilliant.

And how terrible was Ebert and Roeper tonight? That woman wins the worst co-host award. Please Ebert, get better fast. It's a disturbing world when Roeper's the only one who makes any sense on the show.

Loving it

Another great site: Fake Gay News...because the real gay news is too depressing

The Dreaded food poisoning

As you know, throwing up is one of my least favorite activities, and one I go to extreme lengths to avoid. I even once possessed an 11-year-no-puke streak. Sigh.

Last night, at midnight, I scavenged the fridge for something to munch on. I'm on the Atkins diet again, so the pickins were much slimmer than I. Spotted some of that store-bought, pre-grated cheese, and dug in. Tasted fine for three handfulls...until the fourth handful revealed a pile of mold.

Arrrgggh!

Faced with the quandry of whether to go try to somehow make myself puke then, or feel shaky all day today and spend an inevitable night on the toilet, I chose...well, it's midnight now, and it's going to be a loooong night.

Vote now

I don't know why I've been so indecisive lately.

Should I keep paying beaucoup money to be an unnatural blonde, or go back to the no-maintenance brunette? (Red's out for awhile; I'm bored of it).

I don't usually jive with the type of people I attract as a blonde, but until I find time to work out for an hour plus a day, it helps me feel sassy in la la land.

Current blonde look here and below:

Get me Jack Bauer, immediately

One of the many inconsistencies I exhibit is that, though I appear to be easily classified as an UBER Amazon (Urban Bohemian Entrepreneurial Rogue Amazon, coined by brother in the force Mark Melo), I'm also a fighter and a patriot.

This oddity would be the fault of my biological brother, for teaching me how to read on his 1970s Avengers comic books. Which is why my speech is sometimes peppered with gems like, "We will follow you through the gates of hell, but you must lead us." (No, not Cerberus fetched from Hades by Hercules in Greek mythology...but I believe Iron Man imploring Captain America to Assemble).

If you follow the logic line, you can actually discern how I would get from Avengers to Greek mythology to La Femme Nikita to 24.

But because love knows no logic, it is with sad heart that I report I am now off the market forever...as Jack Bauer has taken residence in my heart.

He of the soulful blue eyes, kept promises, beautifully scarred hands, and newly weak stomach, has crawled onto my lap for eternity. I run my fingers gently through his perfect hair and we stare at the mushroom cloud that is Los Angeles and softly whisper "no"...

Oh, I may enter into a loveless marriage that I escape from late at night with my 24 box set. I may bear progeny that are all named Jack; gender be damned. But always in the back of my mind, no matter what hellacious domesticity I am trapped in, I will really be on the freshly mown grass of a shitty Valencia suburb, rocking my broken hero in the cradle of my arms.

As always, check Blogs4Bauer for the latest Bauer Kill Count.

Oh, and lest you think this not be posted by Lis Effin' Fies, Socialist whose first boyfriend was Persian, here's the latest cost of the War in Iraq.

And why doesn't LA have this?

Sing along Buffy

If you're bored

Copy and paste this into the comments section and tell me a little about yourself.

Jed's Awesome "I'm Bored" 2007 Survey

Two Names You Go By:
1. Lizzie-Mae
2. Lulu

Two Things You Are Wearing Right Now:
1. Christmas PJs with lobsters in Santa Claus hats...get it..."Sandy Claws"?
2. Hero, asleep on my lap. He's been extra-cuddly all day.

Two Things You Want in a Relationship:
1. Free-will
2. Chemistry

Two of Your Favorite Things to do:
1. Watch movies
2. Laugh

Two Things You Want Very Badly At The Moment:
1. Money
2. Effexor. Or the sweet embrace of death.

Two pets you [want to] have:
1. Another Pomeranian
2. A cat

Two people who will fill this out:
1. No clue
2.

Two things you did last night:
1. Worked on my freake "Commune" screenplay
2. Watched "Platoon" and "Hellraiser: Hellworld"

Two People that live in your house:
1. Brenda
2. Steve

Two things you ate today:
1. Wheat Pasta with Vodka Sundried tomato sauce
2.

Two people you Last Talked To:
1. Brenda
2. Heidi

Two Things You're doing tomorrow:
1. Having coffee* with Rashaan (* Only I drink tea...like a good Anglophile)
2. Playing pool to raise money for poor kids in Baja.

Two longest car rides:
1. Santa Rosa to Snowqualamie with my first boyfriend when I was almost 18.
2. Santa Rosa to South Dakota with my family when I was 4.

Two Favorite Holidays
1. Memorial Day - love the start of summer
2. Halloween

Two favorite beverages:
1. Egg nog
2. Sake

Two Favorite movies:
1. "Terminator 2"
2. "sex, lies, and videotape"

Two Favorite places
1. a movie theatre
2. Glastonbury Tor with my magical, hot taxi driver (No, ladies, the steamy tale's still not been made into a Zalman King/Showtime spectacle...sorry to dissapoint. But I am taking donations for plane tickets if you want a sequel).

Top 10 Gayest Moments

I usually hate these year-end round ups, but this one is fun.

Just Wondering

Is anyone else feeling curl-up-in-a-ball-and-suck-your-thumb depressed that it's 2007? Seriously? Seven years already after all that hoopla about the new century? My life is flying by with alarming speed.

And Keisha Castle-Hughes is having a baby at sixteen?

Bryce Dallas Howard is knocked up, too? Now, I've been rather outspoken about not having the traditional values/desires of American women, but this is a little much to hear at New Years. Reminds me of getting to UCLA and finding out everyone there has a 4.0 and an Emmy or Olympic medal already. Overachieving bastards.

Never mind. I've got grey roots to dye.

By the way, if you're thinking staying up until 4 am watching "Black Hunter, White Heart" again will cheer you up, skip it, sister. I tried. It doesn't work. Even with Clint's dreamy impersonation of Huston.

2007

Now let's go kick some ass.


I can't believe I missed this.

The Birth of Zena

It seems apropos to post about a new life on the New Year.

Click here for a
giraffe birth!

Crossover Cooking

An old friend of mine has written a cookbook and blog called Crossover Cooking. Give it a shot; try a recipe for the New Year!

From the backcover:

Many cuisines come together in one cookbook of sensational yet easy recipes. If you enjoy many different kinds of food, but don't want to have to go to culinary school to learn to make them, this book is for you. Have stir fry on Saturday, macaroni and cheese on Monday, and tostadas on Thursday, all homemade in no time at all.

Dare to hope?

Looks sorta cool. Not crazy about a Silver Surfer with eyes, but it does distinguish him from the T1000.


Come on Marvel, momma needs a new pair of shoes. Let's roll a winner.

Scissorhands

I guess I'm not going to Matthew Bourne's Edward Scissorhands ballet. I have another opportunity to go alone tonight, and here I sit, typing, instead of driving my lazy ass to downtown LA to get a scapled ticket.

Sigh.

The thing is, I already know what my emotional response is going to be, and I don't know if I'm up for it. The movie impinged on me like few others ever have, to the point that I often just had to think of Edward alone in the castle to start crying at auditions. The film is so beautiful and resonant and so about my life mission statement, it's all a little overwhelming. And the ballet...well, the ballet looks like it brilliantly captured the subject matter AND it's ballet.

Going to the ballet often wrecks me, because it is so very beautiful, and I'm so very sad to not be a dancer. I spent years and years of my youth in dance classes, and loved it very much. My mom took me out of ballet in fourth grade when the teachers insisted I had a career and had to go en pointe...they were upset, mom was upset, I was upset. It wasn't great.

I think mom was right in the long run...she'd had a cousin who'd ruined her feet through dance, and realistically though I was the perfect body type and height throughout my teens (naturally aneorixic), my feet have always been in precarious health anyway, and I would probably be somewhat crippled now.

So I ended up in Fosse jazz classes instead, and other weird mixtures of dance. In ninth grade, I was quite disappointed to get on the cheerleading team and discover the other girls were more interested in giving bjs to the football players than in choreagraphing amazing routines. I quit, and went and taught ballet to little girls afterschool.

Not sure why I'm relaying all this to you. It's just, I can already see and hear and feel Edward Scissorhands in my mind. Perhaps it's okay to avoid the emotion of it all.

Wow.

Can't believe no one has commented about the Hero pic, and that that disappoints me. Weird.

Okay, to all you feeling lonely-blue-weird this Christmas, don't forget you have plenty of company over at PostSecret.

Elf Yourself.com

Merry Christmas from Hero.

And I don't want to hear any blackface comments. The Baby Jesus made Hero that way.

If you don't have any animals to humiliate on Elf Yourself, might I suggest this be the perfect therapeutic use for pix of your ex? I might, indeed.

More propaganda

I'm on the computer again with an Oprah repeat about finances on in the background, and they have an expert on saying the usual crap. Then she says the number one frivolous mistake people make is eating out...

I so beg to differ, based on experience this week. I went through a crockpot book and picked out five recipes that looked simple to make and had more than half the ingredients in my cupboard. Wrote out my list, went to the grocery store, and two frustrating hours later I arrived home and unpacked my load...my wallet $150 lighter.

Yesterday, I made my easy crockpot recipe, and it took me half an hour. Half an hour for a cheesy ass WT crockpot recipe.

Today I've eaten that food for the third time, and am more than ready to dump it out. Cost of that recipe? At least $25, and 50 minutes of my time. (50 minutes of my prime time? That's the equivalent of reading a New Yorker magazine and half a Harpers, or 80 pages of a novel, or answering most of my emails on my personal account, or watching half of an Oscar nominated film, or watching an entire Emmy winning episode of TV, or writing my own five screenplay pages).

Now, I could have easily lived for a day and a half on less on $25 from one of my usual takeout restaurant strategies, plus had saved the hourly wage equivalent of the time I wasted shopping/prepping/cooking. Not to mention that when I eat out, I have utensils and plates that go straight into the recycling bin instead of wasting my time doing dishes.

Now I've got four more dishes to make, and no desire to do it. Guess I can comfort myself with the esteem I've built by getting off my lazy ass and cooking for myself. Does that make me a real woman? Doing thankless, repeating chores that waste my time to actually contribute to society?

Next week, I'm going back to my usual time-saving/money-saving lifestyle.

Peaches and cream

Sounds like Diamonds and Pearls.

Carrie, my friend and female fiancee (seriously, guys...someone's gotta pull through or I'm giving into my 3 on the Kinsey scale), and I had the joy of seeing PEACHES live again last week.

Slighltly smaller club, slightly worse acoustics, but one kick-ass female rockstar? Priceless. And a menstruating Mensa drummer's nothing to sneeze at, either.

Carrie remarked that she often gets great creative writing ideas during shows, and I have to admit I do as well. There's something about a fellow artist's live performance that gets me ol' alpha waves flowing. Though that particular night I was pondering Woman Kings in general, and how I don't like them once they come out with their vulnerabilities.

Cher, Roseanne, Courtney Love, Sharon Stone, Geena Davis, Sandra Bernhard, Angelina Jolie, Margaret Cho, Madonna...I don't want to hear about their insecurities about their looks or troubles with men. I want them to just be their warrior selves and lead us through the gates of hell.



Peaches and her mentor/idol Joan Jett are quite similar in that they don't break from that image. Don't think we'll ever see either on People magazine talking about their secret shames or celebrity diseases. Thank goddess. We need some female Mick Jaggers and Steven Tylers storming the pit with irony, intelligence, verve, and organic tampons.





It's funny, what all those celebrities have in common is being bisexual feminists. I wonder if that's what's required to usurp the male gaze. Because what I most admire in them is that when they are confident, they each become the objectifier. Their sexuality becomes the active, dominant force. It's quite striking, especially against the current backdrop of emaciated teen celebrities begging for public attention. A Woman King could care less what you think of her...you're there for her approval.

No, really

Our kitchen sink is broken.

Don't know if this means I have to start using butter as aftershave, but I've turned into Kramer washing dishes with me in the shower...

Is it just me...

Or is life really good?



They were both very kind to me.



If you live in LA, you must go see Carrie Fisher's one woman show, WISHFULL DRINKING, at the Geffen Playhouse. If you live in NYC, I'm sure it's coming there soon. It's as fabulous as her books.

Hours of fun

Don't know how you've been living without it, but here is the Random Book Title Generator, for all you budding writers.

Here are my results:

Green Soul
The Vacant Return
Door of Husband
The Thorn's Waves
The Ships of the Males
Rings in the Soaring

Sound like box office gold to me.

By the by

Was watching LOTR: ROTK tonight thinking how badass it would be to get a tattoo that says "I am no man."

Answer? Pretty badass. Especially if it was on the inside of my wrist, with a Supes shield on the other wrist. A little protection from the eebie-geebies of Hollywood handshakes.

Great

Just watched SOFT FOR DIGGING and I'm totally horrified. I'm supposed to sleep now?

Geez, Edmund Mercer reminded me of Peter Boyle, as if everything about the movie wasn't effective enough.

Eff it. I'm just going to have to put in WAR OF THE SHAOLIN TEMPLE and stay up all night.