jan. 30, 2004
I wonder if this rattles any cellar doors...?
i want you to know
i'm sorry for everything.
i don't know if i ever told you
it's like forgetting
time becomes measured
do you want to hear this?
jan. 22, 2004
Pet blogs, television stardom and unusual art
So it was only a matter time before I invaded your television yet again. Only this time instead of giving my media savvy point of view (that's a nice way to put "obsessed") about the reality TV series "The Real World," I plugged Backwash Pets where I sometimes dwell as a Contributing Editor. I was on a show on Tech TV called "Tech Live." I rambled on and on about how pets love to create their own blogs and how their owners can hook up online under the guise of "I'm just try to make my pet more social." In other words, I made a bunch of sexual puns as they filmed me in a dog park. You do the math.
Actually, Backwash Pets really is a fun site to browse through no matter how many legs you may have. It's not just for pets...though some of the humor may go right over your head if you're not a dog.
Speaking of animals, I was at a cafe in San Fran called Canvas, with my gal pal Sharon and I was mesmorized by the art on the walls. There were funky, cartoony images of wild cats in suits, goldfish and supermodels by a San Fran artist named Mateo. I promptly went to his Web site and have decided he's bumped Glenn Barr off the top of my favorite artist list. Check out his art and give him loads of cash for his masterpieces. I know I'm planning on buying at least one piece from him. Awhile ago Sharon had bought a great portrait he painted of a man pulling his friend's teeth that I covet to no end. Too cool.
jan. 13, 2004
reasons why I love the the Brits
1. Vinnie Jones in Mean Machine
The more I think about getting back into the dating scene come March. (I decided to not date for a full year after a disappointing breakup.) I'm beginning to realize that perhaps I should stop dating Americans all together. I'm not sure why, but the lot of them seem to be fairly lost and on the shallow side. I dunno. Perhaps I have yet to actually meet someone worth dating that isn't passive-aggressive, self-destructive, wishy-washy or psycho. Not that Brits don't fall into this category. But I do wonder if I'd have a better chance at finding the right bloke to date across the pond as it were.
My British friends all tell me that I would have the time of my life in London -- that I belong there. I've never been. In the early '90s I had all intentions of visiting someone there, but life and work got in the way, and he got an adult life of his own. And I never had that same chance again. Now I wonder if I wasn't just being silly, and I should take some vacation and just go. Lord knows I could use a boost to my psyche. Then again, I do contemplate how sad I'll be when I have to return to the US.
Don't get me wrong. I'm proud to be an American even if our ethics are screwy and we act like steroid addicts in a crowded men's locker room when it comes to world politics. But I do contemplate what it must feel like to be an ex-pat, living in London as a writer, dating lads who treat me more like a girlfriend instead of a bookmark for something better. Then again, my bad judgment in men may not have anything to do with nationality at all.
Perhaps I'm just restless for someone who reminds me of the past. I really should stop watching BBC America so late at night. Damn you Vinnie Jones!
jan. 11, 2004
white trash weekends
So here it is another new year and I'm already getting back in touch with my white trash roots. Actually, it wasn't my fault. I went to visit my friends/exroomies who adopted my pup Sophie. And before I knew it I was off with them to a dentist fraternity party... and the theme: White Trash. I dressed as white trash as I could with such short notice: ripped jeans, flannel shirt, hair in braids... but unfortunately no make-up. I had just came from the gym (I don't usually pile on the make-up afterwards), didn't have anything with me, and Sharon is one of those annoying girls who looks amazing without the "war paint" as my Dad calls it. So off to a frat party I went, looking like a butch lesbian. Oh well. At least I wouldn't have to worry about frat boys hitting on me.
Steve and Sharon, however, dressed the part so much, it was like they jumped right off the set of "Hee Haw." Steve was wearing a mullet wig, ripped jeans, a flannel and was even carrying a large blow-up bottle of beer. Sharon was in a short floral babydoll dress, with a pillow stuffed up her dress to make her look pregnant, her hair in pigtails and carrying a Raggedy Ann doll. They made the perfect white trash couple. Of course, we took pics. Heh.
When we got the party, there were so many varying degrees of white trash pride. Some girls looked more like they should be in Bon Jovi videos, than the traditional white trash we know and love. And then of course there were the guys who looked like they were bitch-slapped by Van Halen fans. Then of course there were those annoying girls who didn't dress the part at all but just looked all J-Lo sleaze. Sheesh. It's a costume party kids...that means you have to be in costume. Sheesh. But hey, who am I to judge? The food supplied to fit the theme included Twinkies and Pringles. Beer being represented by Pabst. And the event of the night - Hamster Ball Racing (no joke). I was half expecting Will Farrell to show up. Sharon danced up a storm. I swear if she dances like that whenever she does manage to be pregnant, she's going to have one hell of a baby shower. Sharon was indeed the queen of white trash that night. Hail to the dancin' machine! And all I can say to Steve is, "Awesome."
The next day we went out for an Irish brekkie and then I took Sophie to Golden Gate for about three and half hours. Which of course, completely made my month. I sure love that pup. Thanks Steve and Sharon!
other notable events from this weekend:
jan. 3, 2004
Another new year, another set of new resolutions. This year instead of thinking of the usual goals for myself, I've decided instead to make real promises worth keeping. Here they go: