For the record, I LOVE this pic of Tristan, I think she looks absolutely gorgeous. Sadly, she doesn't look much like that in person anymore. Last time I saw her, she was so skinny and puckered of face that I thought she might be strung out. Still, she gives good face when it's called for.
House of Ass, indeed. Gawd, remember how enormously fun the old blog was? Sigh...
Thursday, September 28, 2006
Thursday, September 21, 2006
back once again in crisis mode
okay here's what sucks..
I said I wanted to leave tonight
we decided I would wait
unless he took a turn for the worse
he took a turn for the worse
I got a call at 3:30 this morning
I slept for a few hours, and now I'm looking for flights
there is nothing
there were flights two days ago
I'm also freaked,
because exactly what I said might happen, has happened
I need to leave
I need to go to work
I need to take care of Siena
I need to sleep
this is bad bad bad
also, surprise surprise, no word from the lumberjack
lovely call with Ave last night, though
and so much for my date tonight with MJ, I guess, hmm?
I will call you later in the day, when I know more.
I said I wanted to leave tonight
we decided I would wait
unless he took a turn for the worse
he took a turn for the worse
I got a call at 3:30 this morning
I slept for a few hours, and now I'm looking for flights
there is nothing
there were flights two days ago
I'm also freaked,
because exactly what I said might happen, has happened
I need to leave
I need to go to work
I need to take care of Siena
I need to sleep
this is bad bad bad
also, surprise surprise, no word from the lumberjack
lovely call with Ave last night, though
and so much for my date tonight with MJ, I guess, hmm?
I will call you later in the day, when I know more.
Wednesday, September 20, 2006
The Coloring Box
Well, Daily Candy really does go everywhere, don't they? This would have certainly helped out Samantha avoid her Bozo-the-clown situation on Sex and the City, but for the rest of us I think it might be a bit too far (also, so many disturbing terms!). Though I'll admit I'm a bit intrigued by the pink; pity I have no body hair...
Also, as for their assertation that using this product will "attract plenty of male attention," I'm thinking that if they see your dye job, you've already got the attention, no? Or is this product specifically targeted to Paris Hilton and Lindsay Lohan?
Also, as for their assertation that using this product will "attract plenty of male attention," I'm thinking that if they see your dye job, you've already got the attention, no? Or is this product specifically targeted to Paris Hilton and Lindsay Lohan?
Monday, September 18, 2006
Bored bored bored
Geez my life has gotten so boring up here in responsible adult-land. The deal with the lumberjack fizzled out -- well, maybe not, but I'm refusing to continue to put in effort just for the sake of drama. (he's doing this stupid possiveness without commitment thing that I find nauseating.) And when have I ever opted AGAINST drama? I met this other guy, total yawn, works in pharmeceuticals! I am a domestic goddess, which is inherently too stable to be exciting. And I'm paying off my credit cards, always a sign of infinite boredom.
Thankfully, no one is sick or dying, unlike last year at this time. Life is good, and safe, and stable, and prosperous -- but no drama, no circus sex, no 17-hour benders or last-minute trips to foreign lands. I can't become a groupie for a punk band, because there are no good punk bands left, and they're closing CBGBs. Last time I was there was on said 17-hour bender, ordering water and underwear, right before I passed out in Nomda's hotel room. (Funny, the first time I was there, I showed my lace underwear to Mindless Self Indulgence, and to Nicfit and the biker, who were with me the last time too. What is it about them, me, CBs and underwear?)
Also, no one is racy up here, I can't even *imagine* having sex on a fire escape (also, I don't have a fire escape...) No one even swears. It is so... Bostonian. Don't get me wrong, I am very very happy, so glad I moved back, hardly miss New York at all -- except for the adventure (and my friends, of course, but we've been doing pretty good with the visits so far). I want circus sex, I want all-night raging benders, I want wild parties!
I don't want to grow up.
No, that's not true. I want to grow up, but I want a partner in crime that will let me be devious and bad on the side. If not on a fire escape or in a taxi cab, then at least on the kitchen floor.
Thankfully, no one is sick or dying, unlike last year at this time. Life is good, and safe, and stable, and prosperous -- but no drama, no circus sex, no 17-hour benders or last-minute trips to foreign lands. I can't become a groupie for a punk band, because there are no good punk bands left, and they're closing CBGBs. Last time I was there was on said 17-hour bender, ordering water and underwear, right before I passed out in Nomda's hotel room. (Funny, the first time I was there, I showed my lace underwear to Mindless Self Indulgence, and to Nicfit and the biker, who were with me the last time too. What is it about them, me, CBs and underwear?)
Also, no one is racy up here, I can't even *imagine* having sex on a fire escape (also, I don't have a fire escape...) No one even swears. It is so... Bostonian. Don't get me wrong, I am very very happy, so glad I moved back, hardly miss New York at all -- except for the adventure (and my friends, of course, but we've been doing pretty good with the visits so far). I want circus sex, I want all-night raging benders, I want wild parties!
I don't want to grow up.
No, that's not true. I want to grow up, but I want a partner in crime that will let me be devious and bad on the side. If not on a fire escape or in a taxi cab, then at least on the kitchen floor.
Friday, September 15, 2006
Holy crap! The Great Monkey Project!
I always did like that DeCordova museum. Also, proof once again that my thumb is firmly on the zeitgeist....
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
Tuesday, September 12, 2006
Very Slowly and I Am CELLPHONE You
Too, too, sexy, in a disturbing way that only someone as hard up as myself could find appealing.
Kidding! But it is funny, no? I am loving this guy. So much so that his is the only 9/11 anniversary commentary that I could tolerate reading. I feel exactly the same way he does, for the first two graphs, at least.
I also felt like I was in an action movie -- Independence Day and Armageddon were the two that went through my mind -- and that I had to get off the island at all costs, because the Empire State building was about to be attacked by aliens or a big meteor, and I wasn't going to stand around and stare and then be trapped in the streets, futilely climbing over cars. And I also agree with him that I DON'T WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT. And I hate hearing about it. All of these memorials, and bullshit about how we were unified... we weren't. You have your own pain, I don't deny you that. But if you weren't there, then you do not feel mine. I can assure you that it's totally different, so stop pretending we were unified as a nation in our suffering. Does anyone pretend to share the suffering of the folks in Oklahoma City? Of the Columbine parents? Of course not.
Wow, that started one place and ended up way different, huh? Sorry about the bait-and-switch.
Kidding! But it is funny, no? I am loving this guy. So much so that his is the only 9/11 anniversary commentary that I could tolerate reading. I feel exactly the same way he does, for the first two graphs, at least.
I also felt like I was in an action movie -- Independence Day and Armageddon were the two that went through my mind -- and that I had to get off the island at all costs, because the Empire State building was about to be attacked by aliens or a big meteor, and I wasn't going to stand around and stare and then be trapped in the streets, futilely climbing over cars. And I also agree with him that I DON'T WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT. And I hate hearing about it. All of these memorials, and bullshit about how we were unified... we weren't. You have your own pain, I don't deny you that. But if you weren't there, then you do not feel mine. I can assure you that it's totally different, so stop pretending we were unified as a nation in our suffering. Does anyone pretend to share the suffering of the folks in Oklahoma City? Of the Columbine parents? Of course not.
Wow, that started one place and ended up way different, huh? Sorry about the bait-and-switch.
Snakes on a Train - Gawker
Dear god, I am laughing so hard that I've almost completely forgotten about my undatability, the pulled muscle in my neck, and the staff meeting with the big cheeses from New York that failed to answer any big questions -- except that they love the last project I did!
Monday, September 11, 2006
me and my lumberjack...
... are apparently way more compatible than I would have ever expected -- if you enjoy drama and explosives in your compatibility. And as just the other day I was complaining that I fear getting bored, maybe there is still hope for us yet.
Or maybe not. As I am clinically insane.
Or maybe not. As I am clinically insane.
How the other half lives....
Having been the object of much status curiosity and envy this weekend (the Lumberjack guessed within $3K what my salary is, and told everyone, and was also speculating on my mortgage,and in general thinking way too much about my money), I now find this article even more interesting, and well-timed.
In fact, I was just saying last night that the only reason Gee was getting worked up about my house and mortgage is because he can't stand anyone who has more, or even different, from him. To be fair, he is clinical, so not a good representative sample. But he owns a lovely home; what the hell does he care what I spent on mine?
In fact, I was just saying last night that the only reason Gee was getting worked up about my house and mortgage is because he can't stand anyone who has more, or even different, from him. To be fair, he is clinical, so not a good representative sample. But he owns a lovely home; what the hell does he care what I spent on mine?
Friday, September 08, 2006
Play safe, people!
"Intraurethral introduction of a pencil"? Ewww ew ew ew!
Honestly, how could that have seemed like a good idea? And if you're going to go ahead with it ahyway, you really should take it slow.
Honestly, how could that have seemed like a good idea? And if you're going to go ahead with it ahyway, you really should take it slow.
Thursday, September 07, 2006
Yes, Suri, that's his baby
Sigh. How non-gossip-worthy. Suri Cruise looks just like Tom, and also looks to be about four months old. There go all my theories about how she's actually Chris Klein's kid, and that she was actualy born a few months earlier than publicly claimed and they were hiding her until the age discrepancy wasn't so noticeable.
Feh, nothing to see here, move along. Poor Katie!
Feh, nothing to see here, move along. Poor Katie!
Monday, September 04, 2006
Party Girl
The housewarming party was amazing, in case you were wondering. Fabulous friends, amazing neighbors, cute babies, still so sleepy. Dear friends and relatives came from far and near to help me unpack, to stock up for the party, to raise a glass, and to turn my house of stress into a home at last. I love everyone, and I have loads of thank-you notes to write, but for now, just let me say thanks and I love you to all you darlings.
And no, I'm still not sleeping there. I'll move in eventually.
And the Lumberjack gave me an old Kodak Brownie camera of his own, because I'd said his collection was cool. But still he didn't kiss me, and he hasn't mentioned a word about the e-mail from Thursday.
And as soon as I move in for real, I'm ready to have a baby. The neighbors offered to help me take care of it (told you I have amazing neighbors!). So first I finish the bathroom, then I finish unpacking and move in, and then I'm shopping for sperm. Done and done, tired of waiting around.
And no, I'm still not sleeping there. I'll move in eventually.
And the Lumberjack gave me an old Kodak Brownie camera of his own, because I'd said his collection was cool. But still he didn't kiss me, and he hasn't mentioned a word about the e-mail from Thursday.
And as soon as I move in for real, I'm ready to have a baby. The neighbors offered to help me take care of it (told you I have amazing neighbors!). So first I finish the bathroom, then I finish unpacking and move in, and then I'm shopping for sperm. Done and done, tired of waiting around.
Pop-up kitten tissue
As soon as I started watching this video, Siena jumped onto the desk, watched the screen, and then walked on the keyboard until she launched the video in several more windows. I do believe she likes it.
Friday, September 01, 2006
What I Like In A Man: BALLS
More on our favorite seaside topic of conversation, BALLS, from my favorite magazine, Esquire.
dream a little dream of me
I had the strangest dream last night. Bear with me for a moment.
You and I and the rest of the usual suspects were in this huge, loft-like house, with 12-to-15-foot ceilings, and giant appliances and cavernous rooms and floor-to-ceiling modern-looking cabinets everywhere. The fridge alone was like 7 or 8 feet high, and there were maybe three separate kitchens in the house. It was like a showroom, except I lived there. Of course, I was trying to get unpacked and settled in, and everyone there was helping or keeping me company or getting ready for the party. Surpringly, the whole thing seemed sane, not too frantic.
Von was in the kitchen with Gee, and you and I were talking on the couch, when you took me by the shoulders and kissed me. Soon after, you got your coat and went out to run some errand for the housewarming party.
Surprise surprise, my subconscious thinks the house is huge and overwhelming. (To be fair, some really bad things have happened, like the bleeding delivery man, the electrical mess-up, the sewage overflow and the mis-installed fridge.) And I've been frantic and cranky and sensitive, and I want people to help me and support me with everything. But maybe I've been more difficult with you because I'd like to date you and you don't seem to feel the same, and so I was disappointed. And so I act badly sometimes, and so I'm sorry.
I don't want this to be bad for our friendship, so I'll sack up. But the house will continue to be crazy-inducing for a while, so I can't promise to totally chill.
Get home safe, see you soon.
...And that, my friends, is what I sent to the Lumberjack last night to get this stalled vehicle moving. Whether it's the death knell that brings the tow truck, or the jump start that starts us purring down the road, I don't care. I just want to move on.
And yes, I really did have that dream. Maybe I'll sell the house?
You and I and the rest of the usual suspects were in this huge, loft-like house, with 12-to-15-foot ceilings, and giant appliances and cavernous rooms and floor-to-ceiling modern-looking cabinets everywhere. The fridge alone was like 7 or 8 feet high, and there were maybe three separate kitchens in the house. It was like a showroom, except I lived there. Of course, I was trying to get unpacked and settled in, and everyone there was helping or keeping me company or getting ready for the party. Surpringly, the whole thing seemed sane, not too frantic.
Von was in the kitchen with Gee, and you and I were talking on the couch, when you took me by the shoulders and kissed me. Soon after, you got your coat and went out to run some errand for the housewarming party.
Surprise surprise, my subconscious thinks the house is huge and overwhelming. (To be fair, some really bad things have happened, like the bleeding delivery man, the electrical mess-up, the sewage overflow and the mis-installed fridge.) And I've been frantic and cranky and sensitive, and I want people to help me and support me with everything. But maybe I've been more difficult with you because I'd like to date you and you don't seem to feel the same, and so I was disappointed. And so I act badly sometimes, and so I'm sorry.
I don't want this to be bad for our friendship, so I'll sack up. But the house will continue to be crazy-inducing for a while, so I can't promise to totally chill.
Get home safe, see you soon.
...And that, my friends, is what I sent to the Lumberjack last night to get this stalled vehicle moving. Whether it's the death knell that brings the tow truck, or the jump start that starts us purring down the road, I don't care. I just want to move on.
And yes, I really did have that dream. Maybe I'll sell the house?
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