Tuesday, March 29, 2005
Je vais à Paris
À bientôt, mes amis! I’ll be absent from blogging for the next week or so while I celebrate mon anniversaire in Paris. The good news: No more updates about which television shows and movies have featured my phone. (One for the road: It was at the advertising agency in What Women Want.) The bad news: No updates about anything else (read: reality shows), either. Unless, of course, I have the opportunity to do a little transcontinental blogging, which I will gladly take. Because how cool is transcontinental blogging? Very cool, I think.
Anyway, if my backpack doesn’t do me in (which it very well may; I think the fact that I appear to have packed more for a week than the Amazing Race contestants do for a month is kind of a bad sign), I’ll be back next week with updates, pictures, and all that jazz. Au revior!
À bientôt, mes amis! I’ll be absent from blogging for the next week or so while I celebrate mon anniversaire in Paris. The good news: No more updates about which television shows and movies have featured my phone. (One for the road: It was at the advertising agency in What Women Want.) The bad news: No updates about anything else (read: reality shows), either. Unless, of course, I have the opportunity to do a little transcontinental blogging, which I will gladly take. Because how cool is transcontinental blogging? Very cool, I think.
Anyway, if my backpack doesn’t do me in (which it very well may; I think the fact that I appear to have packed more for a week than the Amazing Race contestants do for a month is kind of a bad sign), I’ll be back next week with updates, pictures, and all that jazz. Au revior!
Sunday, March 27, 2005
Happy Easter
Unless you're Toby, that is, and your days are numbered.
It makes me want to la-la
Two days ago, if someone had held me at gunpoint and told me I had to sing an Ashlee Simpson song or they'd shoot, I'd have been a goner. Now I know, like, five of them by heart. That's what happens when you spend an entire Saturday evening watching reruns of The Ashlee Simpson Show.
Now I remember why I don't have cable. I'd never leave the house.
Other weekend overindulgences: birthday cake and teeny tiny puppies. But you can never have too much of either of those.
Unless you're Toby, that is, and your days are numbered.
It makes me want to la-la
Two days ago, if someone had held me at gunpoint and told me I had to sing an Ashlee Simpson song or they'd shoot, I'd have been a goner. Now I know, like, five of them by heart. That's what happens when you spend an entire Saturday evening watching reruns of The Ashlee Simpson Show.
Now I remember why I don't have cable. I'd never leave the house.
Other weekend overindulgences: birthday cake and teeny tiny puppies. But you can never have too much of either of those.
Friday, March 25, 2005
I just can't stop
Tonight, I realized that my new office does have at least one similarity to the show The Office (or at least the Americanized version* thereof). If you guessed that this similarity is the phones, you would be correct.
I promise, someday I will be able to talk about something else. For all of our sakes, I hope that day is soon.
*Which, while definitely not as good as the original British version, was still not as bad as I was expecting.
Tonight, I realized that my new office does have at least one similarity to the show The Office (or at least the Americanized version* thereof). If you guessed that this similarity is the phones, you would be correct.
I promise, someday I will be able to talk about something else. For all of our sakes, I hope that day is soon.
*Which, while definitely not as good as the original British version, was still not as bad as I was expecting.
Wednesday, March 23, 2005
The most amazing thing I saw last night on The Amazing Race
Or should I say The Amazing Two Races? You know, I’m all for eliminating the mega-bunching that plagued last season, but I don’t necessarily think double mega-bunching is the answer. I mean, when you have one group of teams just arriving in a city after the rest of the teams have already checked in at the pit stop? Yeah, there’s something wrong with that.
Also, I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: I don’t agree with the inclusion of Rob and Amber on this season of the show. It’s not just that I believe they shouldn’t be allowed to keep prolonging their 15 minutes of fame in a Trista-like manner; it’s also that their presence changes the entire dynamic of the race, and not in a good way. Instead of everyone starting out with a clean slate, ensuring that opinions of each team can only be formed based on their performance during the race, nearly all of the teams came into the game with some preconceived notion about Rob and Amber. I can only imagine this effect was intended by the producers when they chose Rob and Amber, but what I can’t imagine is why they would make such a decision. Were they really so worried about a lack of tension or conflict this season that they felt they had to orchestrate it in such a contrived manner? You’d think by the seventh season of this show, they would have learned that that’s not necessary.
Finally, judging by Ray’s assessment that “[The] horse is not broken,” he appears to have graduated from the Collin School of Animal Management. And judging by his attitude for much of this episode, he also appears to be working toward his PhD at the Collin School of Advanced Assholiness.
Or should I say The Amazing Two Races? You know, I’m all for eliminating the mega-bunching that plagued last season, but I don’t necessarily think double mega-bunching is the answer. I mean, when you have one group of teams just arriving in a city after the rest of the teams have already checked in at the pit stop? Yeah, there’s something wrong with that.
Also, I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: I don’t agree with the inclusion of Rob and Amber on this season of the show. It’s not just that I believe they shouldn’t be allowed to keep prolonging their 15 minutes of fame in a Trista-like manner; it’s also that their presence changes the entire dynamic of the race, and not in a good way. Instead of everyone starting out with a clean slate, ensuring that opinions of each team can only be formed based on their performance during the race, nearly all of the teams came into the game with some preconceived notion about Rob and Amber. I can only imagine this effect was intended by the producers when they chose Rob and Amber, but what I can’t imagine is why they would make such a decision. Were they really so worried about a lack of tension or conflict this season that they felt they had to orchestrate it in such a contrived manner? You’d think by the seventh season of this show, they would have learned that that’s not necessary.
Finally, judging by Ray’s assessment that “[The] horse is not broken,” he appears to have graduated from the Collin School of Animal Management. And judging by his attitude for much of this episode, he also appears to be working toward his PhD at the Collin School of Advanced Assholiness.
Tuesday, March 22, 2005
Numb
Is what the side of my mouth is.
Eat
Is what I want to do but cannot do.
Stupid
Is what I am for scheduling an appointment to get a cavity filled during my lunch break.
Is what the side of my mouth is.
Eat
Is what I want to do but cannot do.
Stupid
Is what I am for scheduling an appointment to get a cavity filled during my lunch break.
Monday, March 21, 2005
How did this happen?
Somehow, without realizing it, I have become that which I most despise: a show-off. This is not good. Even worse, I appear to be powerless to stop it.
Example 1: I was at Best Buy on Friday, buying a new memory card for my digital camera. As I was checking out, the girl at the counter told me that they were giving away eight trial issues to either Sports Illustrated or Entertainment Weekly. Immediately I was suspicious, so I asked her if it was one of those deals where my credit card would be charged unless I explicitly cancelled. She said no, that I would receive a confirmation letter in the mail after my first issue, and if I wanted to keep getting the magazine, I could send it in, but if I didn't, I just wouldn't get any more issues after the eighth one. So I thought, Hey, why not, I could use a few issues of Entertainment Weekly. But then, after she took down my address, she said I had to swipe my credit card, so they could "verify that you are who you say you are." Hmm. I started to get a little suspicious again, but I swiped. Then she told me I had to sign the credit-card machine so the magazine would "have [my] signature on file." Yeah. Make that a lot suspicious. As I picked up the pen to sign, I scanned the fine print, and the words "automatic renewal" jumped out at me like a beacon. I dropped the pen immediately.
"I don't think I want this," I told her. She asked me why, to which I replied, "I work at a magazine. I know how these things work." As soon as I said it, I wanted to slap myself. Seriously, of all the idiotic things to say, "I work at a magazine" had to be at the top of the list. Like, does that make me some kind of tough cookie? Is this Best Buy employee supposed to be impressed that I work at a magazine or something? If anything, she probably thought that I, as someone admittedly inside the industry, was an even bigger idiot for letting her lie to me for as long as she did.
Example 2: Today after work, I was walking to the gym via the lake-side walking trail, and there were some grounds guys blocking the path, moving some sort of generator on a skid steer. When I attempted to walk around them, they stopped me and made me wait until the skid steer was well out of the way. As I continued on my merry way, one of the guys said to me, by way of explanation, "Sometimes these machines can get really heavy." My reply? "Yeah, I know. I've driven one of those before."
Again: cringe. Why did I say this? Like this guy really cares if I've driven a skid steer before. Again, it only served to make me look like an idiot since, if I'm such a big skid-steer expert, surely I should have known better than to get in the way when some guy is trying move a large and cumbersome object with one. Also, it occurred to me after the fact that when he said "machines," he may very well have been talking about the generator thingy rather than the skid steer, which just makes my comment all the more misplaced and show-off-y.
At this point, I can do nothing but once again fall back on the immortal words of Angela Chase: "If only there were a button somewhere that I could push to force myself to stop talking."
Somehow, without realizing it, I have become that which I most despise: a show-off. This is not good. Even worse, I appear to be powerless to stop it.
Example 1: I was at Best Buy on Friday, buying a new memory card for my digital camera. As I was checking out, the girl at the counter told me that they were giving away eight trial issues to either Sports Illustrated or Entertainment Weekly. Immediately I was suspicious, so I asked her if it was one of those deals where my credit card would be charged unless I explicitly cancelled. She said no, that I would receive a confirmation letter in the mail after my first issue, and if I wanted to keep getting the magazine, I could send it in, but if I didn't, I just wouldn't get any more issues after the eighth one. So I thought, Hey, why not, I could use a few issues of Entertainment Weekly. But then, after she took down my address, she said I had to swipe my credit card, so they could "verify that you are who you say you are." Hmm. I started to get a little suspicious again, but I swiped. Then she told me I had to sign the credit-card machine so the magazine would "have [my] signature on file." Yeah. Make that a lot suspicious. As I picked up the pen to sign, I scanned the fine print, and the words "automatic renewal" jumped out at me like a beacon. I dropped the pen immediately.
"I don't think I want this," I told her. She asked me why, to which I replied, "I work at a magazine. I know how these things work." As soon as I said it, I wanted to slap myself. Seriously, of all the idiotic things to say, "I work at a magazine" had to be at the top of the list. Like, does that make me some kind of tough cookie? Is this Best Buy employee supposed to be impressed that I work at a magazine or something? If anything, she probably thought that I, as someone admittedly inside the industry, was an even bigger idiot for letting her lie to me for as long as she did.
Example 2: Today after work, I was walking to the gym via the lake-side walking trail, and there were some grounds guys blocking the path, moving some sort of generator on a skid steer. When I attempted to walk around them, they stopped me and made me wait until the skid steer was well out of the way. As I continued on my merry way, one of the guys said to me, by way of explanation, "Sometimes these machines can get really heavy." My reply? "Yeah, I know. I've driven one of those before."
Again: cringe. Why did I say this? Like this guy really cares if I've driven a skid steer before. Again, it only served to make me look like an idiot since, if I'm such a big skid-steer expert, surely I should have known better than to get in the way when some guy is trying move a large and cumbersome object with one. Also, it occurred to me after the fact that when he said "machines," he may very well have been talking about the generator thingy rather than the skid steer, which just makes my comment all the more misplaced and show-off-y.
At this point, I can do nothing but once again fall back on the immortal words of Angela Chase: "If only there were a button somewhere that I could push to force myself to stop talking."
Sunday, March 20, 2005
This again
The Bluth Company offices on Arrested Development also have the same phones as my office. I know you don't really care, but again, I just can't resist.
Seriously, maybe my office should be on TV. Actually, sometimes when I'm at work, I do feel like I'm on an episode of The Apprentice. I'm not sure if that's better or worse than my last job, when I often felt like I was on an episode of The Office.
The Bluth Company offices on Arrested Development also have the same phones as my office. I know you don't really care, but again, I just can't resist.
Seriously, maybe my office should be on TV. Actually, sometimes when I'm at work, I do feel like I'm on an episode of The Apprentice. I'm not sure if that's better or worse than my last job, when I often felt like I was on an episode of The Office.
Saturday, March 19, 2005
It's raining men
What's better than a naked man on your fridge? A naked man that you can dress up as a drag queen, of course! The fact that Heather sent me this as an early birthday surprise suggests that she either knows me really well or read last weekend's blog post.
Now if only I could get her birthday card in the mail. That would be a good thing to do today, as this is the actual date of her birth. I'm hoping, though, that a birthday blog shout-out will excuse the tardiness of the card. So happy 25th, my little watermelon seed! (Did that work?)
The most interesting thing I saw on my walk today
Lately, it seems that my Saturday-morning* walks to return proofs are good for providing something unusual for my entertainment, and this morning was no exception. I saw a bunch of hippies driving around in an old VW van that didn't have a windshield. As they drove past me, I gave them a curious look, and they waved. I've never driven in a car without a windshield, nor have I ever seen anyone else doing so, but it kind of looked like fun. Until someone gets a mouthful of bug, that is.
*I use the term "morning" liberally. It was actually like 12:30, but on Saturdays, I consider that to be well within the parameters of "morning."
What's better than a naked man on your fridge? A naked man that you can dress up as a drag queen, of course! The fact that Heather sent me this as an early birthday surprise suggests that she either knows me really well or read last weekend's blog post.
Now if only I could get her birthday card in the mail. That would be a good thing to do today, as this is the actual date of her birth. I'm hoping, though, that a birthday blog shout-out will excuse the tardiness of the card. So happy 25th, my little watermelon seed! (Did that work?)
The most interesting thing I saw on my walk today
Lately, it seems that my Saturday-morning* walks to return proofs are good for providing something unusual for my entertainment, and this morning was no exception. I saw a bunch of hippies driving around in an old VW van that didn't have a windshield. As they drove past me, I gave them a curious look, and they waved. I've never driven in a car without a windshield, nor have I ever seen anyone else doing so, but it kind of looked like fun. Until someone gets a mouthful of bug, that is.
*I use the term "morning" liberally. It was actually like 12:30, but on Saturdays, I consider that to be well within the parameters of "morning."
Friday, March 18, 2005
My famous phone
It has become increasingly apparent that phones owned by me are often the objects of desire of television stars (or at least television prop people). First there was Felicity and her color-changing crappy Target phone. Now it has come to my attention that Julie Cooper-Nichol (she of worst-named-fake-porno-ever fame) has the same phone in her office at The Newport Group that I have at my job.
Its appearance on The O.C. last night was not the beginning of my phone’s fame. It has also had small parts in First Daughter (which, again, I can’t believe I’m actually admitting to having seen) and the Ocean’s Eleven remake. I get so excited every time I see my phone on-screen, and, if other people are with me when I spot it, I can’t resist proudly pointing it out to them. Now if only my job could be as glamorous as a) launching a magazine that will feature my picture on the cover every month, b) running several high-class casinos, or c) being president of the United States.
It has become increasingly apparent that phones owned by me are often the objects of desire of television stars (or at least television prop people). First there was Felicity and her color-changing crappy Target phone. Now it has come to my attention that Julie Cooper-Nichol (she of worst-named-fake-porno-ever fame) has the same phone in her office at The Newport Group that I have at my job.
Its appearance on The O.C. last night was not the beginning of my phone’s fame. It has also had small parts in First Daughter (which, again, I can’t believe I’m actually admitting to having seen) and the Ocean’s Eleven remake. I get so excited every time I see my phone on-screen, and, if other people are with me when I spot it, I can’t resist proudly pointing it out to them. Now if only my job could be as glamorous as a) launching a magazine that will feature my picture on the cover every month, b) running several high-class casinos, or c) being president of the United States.
Thursday, March 17, 2005
Janice Dickinson’s Quote of the Week
Since she didn’t get one last week, I’ll be nice and give her two. (But I still think she needs to steal some of Paula Abdul’s drugs. Or else she needs to give Paula the number for rehab in Minnesota, because…wow. I'm surprised she can even hold her head up.)
“Her face looks like it should be on a pirate flag.” –Janice, on Sarah
“Why do you think she looks like me? [Pause.] The dog in this picture looks like me. The pitbull.” –Janice, on Brittany (and the dog in Brittany's picture)
I’m not sure exactly what that first quote is supposed to mean. Is Sarah poison? Is she too skinny? I know it can’t be the latter, because they sent the one girl who wasn’t grossly underweight home last week for being too fat. Ah well, if I could ever attach any sort of meaning to Janice Dickinson’s quotes, I doubt I would love them so much.
While we’re on the subject of ANTM, I’ve got to give Rebecca the award for Best Passing Out at an Elimination Ceremony. Seriously, that guy on The Bachelorette had nothing on her. Did you see the way her eyes rolled back in her head? And how she was just sprawled out there on the floor while the other contestants and the judges just stared in abject horror and shock? Yeah, that was awesome.
File this under “good celebrity dreams”
Last night, I dreamt that I was on The Amazing Race, and we were at this soccer field in South Africa. David Beckham also happened to be there, just kicking a ball around. A bunch of us were standing around, waiting for the producers to set up our Detour or Roadblock or whatever, and Becks took a shot in our direction, which I caught. I was totally ecstatic, because really, the odds of me catching a ball at all, much less one kicked by David Beckham, are slim to none. I asked him if I could keep the ball, and he said yes.
Then it started raining, so we all got herded into this huge room, and Becks and I started having this big conversation about traveling. He said to me, “Don’t ever get so wasted that you just fly off to the Caribbean on a drunken whim.” To which I replied something along the lines of, “Well, Becks, very few of us can actually afford to do such a thing.” While we were talking, nearly everyone I know (and I few people I don’t know) came up to us and asked if I would take their picture with him. I obliged, but I couldn’t help but think how I really wanted a picture with him, too, but I didn’t want to ruin our great conversation by acting like a crazed fan. I also really wanted to ask him if it was true that he and Posh kept an apartment right down the street from where Hannah and Ann lived in London, as their host family told them, but I feared this would be venturing into crazed-fan territory as well.
Finally, Heather walked up, and I happened to let it slip that she had once lived in Teddington, hoping that this would prompt Becks to tell us that he had an apartment in Teddington as well. But unfortunately, I woke up before he could do just that, so once again, the real truth about Posh and Becks’ London home remains a mystery.
Since she didn’t get one last week, I’ll be nice and give her two. (But I still think she needs to steal some of Paula Abdul’s drugs. Or else she needs to give Paula the number for rehab in Minnesota, because…wow. I'm surprised she can even hold her head up.)
“Her face looks like it should be on a pirate flag.” –Janice, on Sarah
“Why do you think she looks like me? [Pause.] The dog in this picture looks like me. The pitbull.” –Janice, on Brittany (and the dog in Brittany's picture)
I’m not sure exactly what that first quote is supposed to mean. Is Sarah poison? Is she too skinny? I know it can’t be the latter, because they sent the one girl who wasn’t grossly underweight home last week for being too fat. Ah well, if I could ever attach any sort of meaning to Janice Dickinson’s quotes, I doubt I would love them so much.
While we’re on the subject of ANTM, I’ve got to give Rebecca the award for Best Passing Out at an Elimination Ceremony. Seriously, that guy on The Bachelorette had nothing on her. Did you see the way her eyes rolled back in her head? And how she was just sprawled out there on the floor while the other contestants and the judges just stared in abject horror and shock? Yeah, that was awesome.
File this under “good celebrity dreams”
Last night, I dreamt that I was on The Amazing Race, and we were at this soccer field in South Africa. David Beckham also happened to be there, just kicking a ball around. A bunch of us were standing around, waiting for the producers to set up our Detour or Roadblock or whatever, and Becks took a shot in our direction, which I caught. I was totally ecstatic, because really, the odds of me catching a ball at all, much less one kicked by David Beckham, are slim to none. I asked him if I could keep the ball, and he said yes.
Then it started raining, so we all got herded into this huge room, and Becks and I started having this big conversation about traveling. He said to me, “Don’t ever get so wasted that you just fly off to the Caribbean on a drunken whim.” To which I replied something along the lines of, “Well, Becks, very few of us can actually afford to do such a thing.” While we were talking, nearly everyone I know (and I few people I don’t know) came up to us and asked if I would take their picture with him. I obliged, but I couldn’t help but think how I really wanted a picture with him, too, but I didn’t want to ruin our great conversation by acting like a crazed fan. I also really wanted to ask him if it was true that he and Posh kept an apartment right down the street from where Hannah and Ann lived in London, as their host family told them, but I feared this would be venturing into crazed-fan territory as well.
Finally, Heather walked up, and I happened to let it slip that she had once lived in Teddington, hoping that this would prompt Becks to tell us that he had an apartment in Teddington as well. But unfortunately, I woke up before he could do just that, so once again, the real truth about Posh and Becks’ London home remains a mystery.
Wednesday, March 16, 2005
The most amazing thing I saw last night on The Amazing Race
You know, I could chastize Susan and Patrick for taking two hours to find their way out of Santiago, but I won't. Because I once got lost for two hours in Monaco trying to find a hostel, so I know what it's like to be in an unfamiliar city where you can't really comprehend the language of the people who are trying to give you directions. (I must point out, however, that I did not have a map, and Susan and Patrick most likely did. This is more a vindication of my navigating skills than it is a chastization of theirs.)
Debbie and Bianca, on the other hand? I'm going to have to do some chastizing. Because after you suspect you've missed your exit and the tollbooth operator gives you a look like, "You're totally going the wrong way," and you still wait to pull out a map or stop for directions until you see an ocean instead of mountains...yeah, you deserve what's coming to you. I couldn't help but wonder, though, if some of their navagationally challenged behavior might have been cooked up in the editing room. Because...well, nobody's that stupid, right?
I could hardly believe it when I heard the news, uh, yesterday
On the subject of American Idol, can I first just say, Mikalah: I'm not sure what people have been telling you, but we don't actually require another Fran Drescher. One is plenty. But thanks. And Constantine? I'm not sure exactly what you are, but I'm pretty sure we don't even require one of it. Please go away.
What we do require, in my opinion, is more Justin Timberlakes. Which is why I was deeply saddened by the sudden departure of JT's petite Latino doppelganger, Mario Vaszquez. In fact, when I read the news yesterday on MSN, I let out such a cry of anguish that some of the people sitting near me thought someone had died.
What I don't understand is, if Mario wasn't able to do the show for personal/family reasons, how was he able to go on Letterman last night, then? I suspect something is afoot. Hey, maybe he actually is Justin Timberlake! Has anyone ever seen them in the same room together? I didn't think so.
You know, I could chastize Susan and Patrick for taking two hours to find their way out of Santiago, but I won't. Because I once got lost for two hours in Monaco trying to find a hostel, so I know what it's like to be in an unfamiliar city where you can't really comprehend the language of the people who are trying to give you directions. (I must point out, however, that I did not have a map, and Susan and Patrick most likely did. This is more a vindication of my navigating skills than it is a chastization of theirs.)
Debbie and Bianca, on the other hand? I'm going to have to do some chastizing. Because after you suspect you've missed your exit and the tollbooth operator gives you a look like, "You're totally going the wrong way," and you still wait to pull out a map or stop for directions until you see an ocean instead of mountains...yeah, you deserve what's coming to you. I couldn't help but wonder, though, if some of their navagationally challenged behavior might have been cooked up in the editing room. Because...well, nobody's that stupid, right?
I could hardly believe it when I heard the news, uh, yesterday
On the subject of American Idol, can I first just say, Mikalah: I'm not sure what people have been telling you, but we don't actually require another Fran Drescher. One is plenty. But thanks. And Constantine? I'm not sure exactly what you are, but I'm pretty sure we don't even require one of it. Please go away.
What we do require, in my opinion, is more Justin Timberlakes. Which is why I was deeply saddened by the sudden departure of JT's petite Latino doppelganger, Mario Vaszquez. In fact, when I read the news yesterday on MSN, I let out such a cry of anguish that some of the people sitting near me thought someone had died.
What I don't understand is, if Mario wasn't able to do the show for personal/family reasons, how was he able to go on Letterman last night, then? I suspect something is afoot. Hey, maybe he actually is Justin Timberlake! Has anyone ever seen them in the same room together? I didn't think so.
Monday, March 14, 2005
Adventures in the great outdoors
When I lived in London and would go to the park to read when the weather was nice, the "park" was actually the lawn of a huge estate that King George II built for his mistress. It's hard to find a park with that kind of history here in Birmingham, but hey, who needs history when you've got foot fetishists?
Oh, yes. I ran into this guy again when I was at the park yesterday. Apparently he's been reading my blog, because he's adopted a new approach in trying to lure strange women into foot massages. I was just about to leave the park when he stopped me and asked where I got my flip-flops. Now, even though I was pretty sure I was dealing with the foot fetishist again, I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt, mainly because I really love my flip-flops and relish any opportunity to wax poetic about them to other people. Lame, I know. Anyway. After he admired the flip-flops and I told him all about them, he said, "You have really beautiful feet." I thanked him, and then he asked, "Can I give you a foot massage?" Oy.
Foot Fetish Guy in Park, if you happen to be reading, I just want you to know that I think this new approach is a million times better than the old one. But the fact remains that you just can't go up to strange women and ask them if they want you to rub their feet. It doesn't matter how you dress it up; it's always going to be kind of creepy. It's not that the average woman doesn't love a foot massage; it's just that you have to work up to that sort of thing, you know? I mean, at least buy a girl dinner first.
When I lived in London and would go to the park to read when the weather was nice, the "park" was actually the lawn of a huge estate that King George II built for his mistress. It's hard to find a park with that kind of history here in Birmingham, but hey, who needs history when you've got foot fetishists?
Oh, yes. I ran into this guy again when I was at the park yesterday. Apparently he's been reading my blog, because he's adopted a new approach in trying to lure strange women into foot massages. I was just about to leave the park when he stopped me and asked where I got my flip-flops. Now, even though I was pretty sure I was dealing with the foot fetishist again, I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt, mainly because I really love my flip-flops and relish any opportunity to wax poetic about them to other people. Lame, I know. Anyway. After he admired the flip-flops and I told him all about them, he said, "You have really beautiful feet." I thanked him, and then he asked, "Can I give you a foot massage?" Oy.
Foot Fetish Guy in Park, if you happen to be reading, I just want you to know that I think this new approach is a million times better than the old one. But the fact remains that you just can't go up to strange women and ask them if they want you to rub their feet. It doesn't matter how you dress it up; it's always going to be kind of creepy. It's not that the average woman doesn't love a foot massage; it's just that you have to work up to that sort of thing, you know? I mean, at least buy a girl dinner first.
Sunday, March 13, 2005
And then...
As I stood at a drag show, locked in an embrace with my two gay friends, singing "I Will Love Again" at the top of our lungs, it occured to me.
Maybe this is why I don't have a boyfriend.
As I stood at a drag show, locked in an embrace with my two gay friends, singing "I Will Love Again" at the top of our lungs, it occured to me.
Maybe this is why I don't have a boyfriend.
Friday, March 11, 2005
Something to ponder
Why is it that fake pornos referenced in prime-time teen soap operas always derive their titles from the filmography of Matt Damon? I'm not sure, but I must say that I much preferred Dawson's Creek's "Good Will Humping" to The O.C.'s "The Porn Identity."
Because seriously? “The Porn Identity” has got to be the worst fake porn title ever. I mean, since when does porn refer to itself as such? (Although, honestly, I'm not too surprised that porn conceived by Josh Schwartz would be so self-referential.) Also, did anyone stop to think about the fact that the movie The Bourne Identity had not yet been released at the time that Julie Cooper-Nichol was ostensibly lending her talents to this cinematic masterpiece? Hell, I don't even think the book had been released at that point, not that fake pornos are usually named after books.
In my opinion, this is unacceptable. Fake porn titles are so easy to come up with that I simply cannot stand for these glaring errors in continuity.
Why is it that fake pornos referenced in prime-time teen soap operas always derive their titles from the filmography of Matt Damon? I'm not sure, but I must say that I much preferred Dawson's Creek's "Good Will Humping" to The O.C.'s "The Porn Identity."
Because seriously? “The Porn Identity” has got to be the worst fake porn title ever. I mean, since when does porn refer to itself as such? (Although, honestly, I'm not too surprised that porn conceived by Josh Schwartz would be so self-referential.) Also, did anyone stop to think about the fact that the movie The Bourne Identity had not yet been released at the time that Julie Cooper-Nichol was ostensibly lending her talents to this cinematic masterpiece? Hell, I don't even think the book had been released at that point, not that fake pornos are usually named after books.
In my opinion, this is unacceptable. Fake porn titles are so easy to come up with that I simply cannot stand for these glaring errors in continuity.
Thursday, March 10, 2005
Janice Dickinson needs to party with Paul Abdul
Seriously. Because Paula is, like, waaaay too drunk or hopped up on painkillers or whatever Janice used to be on, all blurting out things at the wrong time and slurring her words and making even less sense than she normally does, while Janice is just…well, she's just far too sober for my purposes, which is why I can't even give her a quote of the week. Someone needs to take some drugs away from Paula and give them to Janice, thus setting the world of reality television rightfully in balance again. And they need to do it quickly.
Seriously. Because Paula is, like, waaaay too drunk or hopped up on painkillers or whatever Janice used to be on, all blurting out things at the wrong time and slurring her words and making even less sense than she normally does, while Janice is just…well, she's just far too sober for my purposes, which is why I can't even give her a quote of the week. Someone needs to take some drugs away from Paula and give them to Janice, thus setting the world of reality television rightfully in balance again. And they need to do it quickly.
Wednesday, March 09, 2005
The most amazing thing I saw last night on The Amazing Race
So are contestants not even buying their own airline tickets this season? Judging by the jaunt from Lima to Santiago, it would certainly appear so. Just when I thought it wasn't possible for them to make this any less of a race...
Also, is there anything more entertaining than watching two gay guys try to beg for vegetables in a crowded Chilean market? I mean, besides embarrassingly awkward girl-on-girl action? If there is, I can’t imagine right now what that might be.
This is not the kind of celebrity dream I like to have
Last night, I dreamt that I accepted an internship as Jessica Simpson’s assistant. Jessica herself called to offer me the job, and I couldn’t resist telling her how much I love her lip gloss. (Which is true in real life; I got a sample for a photo shoot, and it is awesome.) She asked me if I wanted to know what was up with her and Nick and, trying to suck up, I told her, “If you feel it’s important for me to know, then you can tell me, but honestly, I don’t think it’s any of my business.” Why I would be doing an internship at this stage of my career is beyond me, as is the question of why said internship would involve assisting Jessica Simpson, but fortunately I woke up before I actually had to start work.
So are contestants not even buying their own airline tickets this season? Judging by the jaunt from Lima to Santiago, it would certainly appear so. Just when I thought it wasn't possible for them to make this any less of a race...
Also, is there anything more entertaining than watching two gay guys try to beg for vegetables in a crowded Chilean market? I mean, besides embarrassingly awkward girl-on-girl action? If there is, I can’t imagine right now what that might be.
This is not the kind of celebrity dream I like to have
Last night, I dreamt that I accepted an internship as Jessica Simpson’s assistant. Jessica herself called to offer me the job, and I couldn’t resist telling her how much I love her lip gloss. (Which is true in real life; I got a sample for a photo shoot, and it is awesome.) She asked me if I wanted to know what was up with her and Nick and, trying to suck up, I told her, “If you feel it’s important for me to know, then you can tell me, but honestly, I don’t think it’s any of my business.” Why I would be doing an internship at this stage of my career is beyond me, as is the question of why said internship would involve assisting Jessica Simpson, but fortunately I woke up before I actually had to start work.
Monday, March 07, 2005
Stupid Thing #472
Maybe it's because I was in denial or something, but for whatever reason, I am just now realizing that both of my major credit cards charge humongous fees when I make a payment even a day late. How I could have gone without knowing this for so long is beyond me, although it does at least explain why I've been having such a hard time paying off my credit-card debt.
I swear, I must be the stupidest person who ever lived. Don't believe me? See above.
Maybe it's because I was in denial or something, but for whatever reason, I am just now realizing that both of my major credit cards charge humongous fees when I make a payment even a day late. How I could have gone without knowing this for so long is beyond me, although it does at least explain why I've been having such a hard time paying off my credit-card debt.
I swear, I must be the stupidest person who ever lived. Don't believe me? See above.
I've never actually been tortured...
But I can imagine that it's not entirely unlike having your teeth cleaned at the dentist for the first time in five years. Here's a little word of advice: Don't ever let five years pass between dentist visits. EVER. Unless, of course, you just really like the taste of blood in your mouth. In that case, feel free.
On the plus side, my teeth feel cleaner than they have in...well, five years. And I got a new toothbrush and some floss, and I only had one (very minor) cavity. Not too shabby.
But I can imagine that it's not entirely unlike having your teeth cleaned at the dentist for the first time in five years. Here's a little word of advice: Don't ever let five years pass between dentist visits. EVER. Unless, of course, you just really like the taste of blood in your mouth. In that case, feel free.
On the plus side, my teeth feel cleaner than they have in...well, five years. And I got a new toothbrush and some floss, and I only had one (very minor) cavity. Not too shabby.
Sunday, March 06, 2005
That's something
This weekend, I watched Something's Gotta Give. My reasons for wanting to see this movie were twofold: 1) Because it was playing on a flight I took last year, but I refused to pay for headphones, so I wanted to see if my assumption that it would be a far better movie with sound was correct, and 2) Because I recommended it in an article I wrote a few months ago, and I wanted to see if it was worthy of my recommendation. (And yes, I realize you're supposed to do that the other way around, but I have it on very good authority that this movie is extremely popular with my magazine's readership.)
Anyway. While watching this movie, I was somewhat astounded by the similarities between myself and Diane Keaton's character. We're talking Natalie-Portman-in-Garden-State levels of similarity, which leads me to wonder yet again if someone I know really well is, unbeknownst to me, a popular Hollywood screenwriter. Stranger things have happened.
These similarities include, but are not limited to:
-We have the same haircut. Actually, I don't have this haircut right now, but it is my favorite standard go-to haircut, and I was in fact planning on getting it the next time I go to the salon.
-Neither of us dates very much, and when we do, we're really quite bad at it. I'd like to think that I'm not quite as bad at it as Diane was, but then again, I've never dated Keanu Reeves or Jack Nicholson. That might make a difference.
-We both tend to get kind of overzealous with the crying and the laughing and the laughing and crying at the same time when we're really emotional and/or trying to write. Again, I hope I'm not that bad. I guess it depends on what I'm trying to write.
-We both like to celebrate our birthdays in France. Which I will be doing, as a matter of fact, in exactly 25 days. Although, again, without Keanu Reeves and Jack Nicholson.
All I have to say is, I hope these similarities continue in such a manner that I get to be that hot when I'm 50. However, considering that I'm not even that hot now, I feel this may be a little too much to hope for.
This weekend, I watched Something's Gotta Give. My reasons for wanting to see this movie were twofold: 1) Because it was playing on a flight I took last year, but I refused to pay for headphones, so I wanted to see if my assumption that it would be a far better movie with sound was correct, and 2) Because I recommended it in an article I wrote a few months ago, and I wanted to see if it was worthy of my recommendation. (And yes, I realize you're supposed to do that the other way around, but I have it on very good authority that this movie is extremely popular with my magazine's readership.)
Anyway. While watching this movie, I was somewhat astounded by the similarities between myself and Diane Keaton's character. We're talking Natalie-Portman-in-Garden-State levels of similarity, which leads me to wonder yet again if someone I know really well is, unbeknownst to me, a popular Hollywood screenwriter. Stranger things have happened.
These similarities include, but are not limited to:
-We have the same haircut. Actually, I don't have this haircut right now, but it is my favorite standard go-to haircut, and I was in fact planning on getting it the next time I go to the salon.
-Neither of us dates very much, and when we do, we're really quite bad at it. I'd like to think that I'm not quite as bad at it as Diane was, but then again, I've never dated Keanu Reeves or Jack Nicholson. That might make a difference.
-We both tend to get kind of overzealous with the crying and the laughing and the laughing and crying at the same time when we're really emotional and/or trying to write. Again, I hope I'm not that bad. I guess it depends on what I'm trying to write.
-We both like to celebrate our birthdays in France. Which I will be doing, as a matter of fact, in exactly 25 days. Although, again, without Keanu Reeves and Jack Nicholson.
All I have to say is, I hope these similarities continue in such a manner that I get to be that hot when I'm 50. However, considering that I'm not even that hot now, I feel this may be a little too much to hope for.
Saturday, March 05, 2005
I just can't keep up
Apparently, both The Amazing Race and America's Next Top Model premiered this week, and I either had no idea or did not remember that these events would occur. What's really strange is that, although these are my two favorite reality shows (and arguably two of my favorite shows, period), I really didn't care that I'd missed them. Consider that against the fact that I was practically counting down the days until this week's Summerland premiere, and I'm starting to think that this might be a good time for me to give up reality TV, too.
I once thought this would be almost impossible to do, but now that I think about it, it doesn't seem so hard. It's been my experience that if I just never start watching a season, I won't really miss a show all that much. Because the "characters" are constantly changing on reality TV, the only thing that carries a person through from season to season is the show's fundamental concept. And with so many of the shows I watch courting the double digits, season-wise, I'm beginning to find some of these concepts (e.g. The Bachelor/ette) rather tiring.
The thing is, when the reality phenomenon came along and virtually obliterated the traditional TV season, I applauded it more heartily than anyone. Finally, no more tedious, rerun-filled summers and non-sweeps months! But the old adage about having too much of a good thing has proved to be true. It often feels like I'm scrambling to keep up and fit everything in my schedule, which...that's what I do at work every day. I don't want to feel burdened like that during my free time, too.
Of course, part of this could be attributed to the fact that this week has been so busy that I've barely had time to breathe, let alone watch reality TV, which, as you well know, is not usually the case. It also occurs to me that this feeling of being burdened by television might be eliminated if I had TiVo. So as soon as a) my life becomes a little less hectic, or b) you all chip in to buy me TiVo, expect me to go back to whistling my old tune. (Sorry, Chase. I'm getting closer, though.)
Apparently, both The Amazing Race and America's Next Top Model premiered this week, and I either had no idea or did not remember that these events would occur. What's really strange is that, although these are my two favorite reality shows (and arguably two of my favorite shows, period), I really didn't care that I'd missed them. Consider that against the fact that I was practically counting down the days until this week's Summerland premiere, and I'm starting to think that this might be a good time for me to give up reality TV, too.
I once thought this would be almost impossible to do, but now that I think about it, it doesn't seem so hard. It's been my experience that if I just never start watching a season, I won't really miss a show all that much. Because the "characters" are constantly changing on reality TV, the only thing that carries a person through from season to season is the show's fundamental concept. And with so many of the shows I watch courting the double digits, season-wise, I'm beginning to find some of these concepts (e.g. The Bachelor/ette) rather tiring.
The thing is, when the reality phenomenon came along and virtually obliterated the traditional TV season, I applauded it more heartily than anyone. Finally, no more tedious, rerun-filled summers and non-sweeps months! But the old adage about having too much of a good thing has proved to be true. It often feels like I'm scrambling to keep up and fit everything in my schedule, which...that's what I do at work every day. I don't want to feel burdened like that during my free time, too.
Of course, part of this could be attributed to the fact that this week has been so busy that I've barely had time to breathe, let alone watch reality TV, which, as you well know, is not usually the case. It also occurs to me that this feeling of being burdened by television might be eliminated if I had TiVo. So as soon as a) my life becomes a little less hectic, or b) you all chip in to buy me TiVo, expect me to go back to whistling my old tune. (Sorry, Chase. I'm getting closer, though.)
Thursday, March 03, 2005
Oh, Bo
This week has been a bit of an emotional rollercoaster, but as it draws to a close, I feel like I might be back on an even keel again. Interestingly enough, my feelings toward Bo Bice seem to have followed a similar pattern.
Although I still question his stage name selection and still wish I didn’t have to hear a promo for a local news story about him every damn night of the week, I really began to like Bo a little bit this week. Mostly, this was due to his story about how the people at his job told him he’d have to quit if he wanted to do American Idol, and he told them that if they wanted him gone, they would have to fire him so that he could draw unemployment. Ha! Also, although I abhor the designation of “rocker” in the context of American Idol, I must admit that Bo is about as close to authentic as you’re ever going to get. He certainly trumps the increasingly insufferable Constantine.
Of course, then Bo had to go and spoil my newfound admiration for him by wearing that dumb-ass hat last night. So we’re back to square one, it would seem.
While we’re on the subject…Alliance co-hort? If you’re out there (and you’re not too busy talking on the phone), I’m afraid we’re going to have to do something about Janay Castine next week. She simply cannot make it into the Top 12, where she may be able to access to the dark forces of Carmen Rasmusen. Actually, I fear she may already have them on her side, so I hope we're not too late.
This week has been a bit of an emotional rollercoaster, but as it draws to a close, I feel like I might be back on an even keel again. Interestingly enough, my feelings toward Bo Bice seem to have followed a similar pattern.
Although I still question his stage name selection and still wish I didn’t have to hear a promo for a local news story about him every damn night of the week, I really began to like Bo a little bit this week. Mostly, this was due to his story about how the people at his job told him he’d have to quit if he wanted to do American Idol, and he told them that if they wanted him gone, they would have to fire him so that he could draw unemployment. Ha! Also, although I abhor the designation of “rocker” in the context of American Idol, I must admit that Bo is about as close to authentic as you’re ever going to get. He certainly trumps the increasingly insufferable Constantine.
Of course, then Bo had to go and spoil my newfound admiration for him by wearing that dumb-ass hat last night. So we’re back to square one, it would seem.
While we’re on the subject…Alliance co-hort? If you’re out there (and you’re not too busy talking on the phone), I’m afraid we’re going to have to do something about Janay Castine next week. She simply cannot make it into the Top 12, where she may be able to access to the dark forces of Carmen Rasmusen. Actually, I fear she may already have them on her side, so I hope we're not too late.
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