"She's got the sex appeal of a buzzard's crotch." So sayeth Jack last night about Dana on BB4.
And someone please tell Julie Chen to go easy on the glitter body lotion. She's horrible.
This reality tv is like heroin. So bad, but I can't pull myself away. And tonight's Amazing Race. Exhausting.
July 30, 2003
D.C, Downsview and Denver
Oh joy, we've been waiting for W to spout off. Doesn't he have more important things to worry about?
Kinda wishing I was up north with friends and family at this day of madness. Where's BNL on the line up? And Shania? And what's the deal with disposable cameras being allowed, but not non-disposable? Never heard of that rule before. So tell us, Miss Sonia, how was it?
Found this site today. Y.U.M. ... and so much in common. He lives in Denver, we have an office there. He's on a SWAT team, I played a SWAT team leader on One Life to Live. His boyfriend has blogged to "save his life", mine gets bogged down in Lifetime. It's magic.
July 29, 2003
The Man Behind the Curtain
So what's the catch going to be with this ding dong adorable James on Boy Meets Boy? He's apparently too cute, too sweet and too big hearted for his own good ... he couldn't land a guy on his own? I know, it's reality tv and it's all about casting and editing and $25 grand. Maybe next week his inner psychotic drama will rear its ugly head.
It's no Amazing Race, but the Season Pass has been programmed into TiVo.
I live on the 9th floor of a Chelsea building, facing south and looking down over a row of brownstones. The view is Mary Poppins meets Rear Window. I was sitting on the balcony a little while ago, enjoying the cool breeze, and noticed someone walking around in an apartment across the way. All I can see is this guy in a pair of very snug gray boxer briefs, which fit extremely well. Um, extremely well. Problem is his blinds are pulled halfway down, so I can only see from the waist down. Never paid any attention to the inhabitant of that apartment before, and I don't make a habit of voyeur thing, but this is most intriguing.
Or maybe it's just a diversion from the task at hand. I'm supposed to be writing a draft of my "coming of age" story for a class I'm taking. I have no idea what tale to tell -- I suppose I must have grown up at some point in the last four decades, but for the life of me, I don't know what that moment would be.
Perhaps if I'd come of age, I'd be proactively meeting deadlines instead of surreptitiously looking into people's apartments.
Never Mix, Never Worry
I can just hear Martha now ... "Oh George, shut up and make me another Effen martini."
E is for Ecclectic
While in a London pub last week, I heard the most addictive bubble gum boy band song. "Excuse me," I tapped on the bouncing young girl to my right who was singing along, "Can you tell me who this is?"
"They're called Busted, and they're brilliant, right? Oh, and this is my mum," pointing to her companion, who didn't look any older than me. Ouch.
Popped into the Virgin Megastore last night, went to the imports section and found what I was looking for. I find buying CDs a lot like eating Lay's potato chips -- you can't have just one. Along with my new Brit bop boys, I now own Tim McGraw, Radiohead, Liz Phair and a new copy of an old favorite, Mary Chapin Carpenter.
In other news, my horoscope today says, among other things, that I'm "a half-full vessel waiting to be topped off." Speaking of Tim McGraw ....
July 28, 2003
Fangs for the Memories
Larry King's interviewing anyone and everyone who's ever known Bob Hope. Who'd have ever thought that Phyllis Diller would be the most attractive and "put together" woman in a collection of herself, Jane Russell, Nacny Sinatra and Connie Stevens (poor dahlin', someone get her a new wig)? Coming soon -- Ann-Margret, falling off a stage to deliver her euology.
Mickey Rooney seems to have quietly lost his mind.
Digging Back In
Back in my office after being away for two weeks. Things look remarkably the same (except one of my plants is withering). The vacation in Ptown seems like ages ago, and I still feel like I'm kind of in a blur after the London/Brussels trip. Slept most the weekend away and yet I don't really feel rested, more like I'm in a sort of disconnected bubble ... functional, but disconnected.
All right then. Focus. Update tomorrow's presentation. Tackle the inbox. Find a proper cup of coffee. Pass the Ritalin.
July 24, 2003
A Mad Dash to the Continent
London's been a blast, and it looks like I'm not coming home tonight after all. I have to head over to Brussels for some meetings tomorrow. Was going to try and stay Friday night to explore, but can't get back to London in time to make the only BA flight that's available. Looks like I'll have to work tomorrow, then either train or fly back to London to make the last flight out tomorrow night.
A long day to be sure, and no time to play in Brussels. What good's a business trip if you can't get a little personal time in on the side?
July 22, 2003
To By a Garden Party
Today was the Queen's Garden Party. Riding by Buckingham Palace this afternoon, I was treated to a parade of festive hats the likes I have never seen (on real women).
The flight over was very nice. Was in Club class on BA, and the fully reclining seats/beds were great. Nothing I'd want to sleep on every night, but a very comfortable way to schelpp across the pond. The window seats face backwards and there are screens between you and the person on the aisle, so that when you're fully reclined you're not face to face with your seat mate. However, you do get a nice view of your seatmate's butt while he's sleeping and your sitting up enjoying a nice glass of Medoc. Very pleasant indeed.
Meetings went well today and tomorrow's promise to be better. Could be some new, interesting and challenging work ahead. A welcome change.
Had a low key evening at my friend Ben's flat with a gorgeous woman he used to do PR work with. Now she's teaching English in Barcelona and dating a hot French rugby player -- there's a smart career change to add to the list of options. Much Pimm's, some wine on top of that and lots of laughs.
July 21, 2003
When We Last Left Our Heroes ...
They were lingering over the end of a perfect week away.
And then the Universe said, "You've had too much fun in the town of Province, I shall thwart you."
A seemingly epic battle ensued ... passports went missing, mad dashes back to the Cape were made, London was almost called off, stress flowed like those billowy garments bears wear at home when no one's watching. In the end, our fairy godmother prevailed, waved her wand and produced Mr. Mint, a delightful and charming passport expediter. *Poof* 4 hours later, a magical new document was produced. All hail Capitalism. We may travel freely again.
Now mama's gotta jump a jet.
Thwart me, will you. Fie!
Too busy to blog the whole thing ... but maybe British Airways business class has online access. Or perhaps I should try to get some dang rest ... this diet of adrenaline and nictotine has taken 5 quick pounds right off me.
July 18, 2003
A Week is Not Enough
Overheard at the bar: "I'll have a vanilla Black Russian, not too sweet." Poor bear, she must've been diabetic.
It's all gone by too fast. I can't believe we have to go back to the real world tomorrow.
I guess there's consolation in that we're back in September and my trip across the pond was confirmed. So it's back in NY for a couple days, and then Monday night I fly to London for three days.
July 17, 2003
If you spend an evening you'll want to stay
A lazy, relaxing day.
Some sunshine. A little rain. Fresh salt air. A couple of naps. Some leisurely shopping and cooking and then a highly entertaining, fairly low-key dinner party here with friends, some local and others in for a visit.
It's just good times y'all, and I apologize to all those who had to work today.
Lots of memories got stirred up tonight and as much as I'd like to write about them, I think I'll just finish off this bottle of red wine and enjoy the quiet.
July 15, 2003
No Lions, No Tigers, Lots of Bears
Another perfect day.
It's Bear Week up here. They're all hanging out at the Crown's pool in the daytime. Those big boys sure do like to frolic in the water ... and drink frozen concoctions with lots of whipped cream. And Jenny Craig wept.
Last night was a recovery night. Well that was the intention. Didn't play with the bears, but come across a few piggies. You just never know -- ask a random guy for a light of your smoke and next thing you know it's a late night showing of that old perfomance art chestnut, "Five Guys and a Sling."
Saw my second sunrise of the week, which was pretty, but not nearly as beautiful as last night's sunset. Thw sky was the most amazing combination of blue, pink and rose ... a big ball of fire setting in the West and the biggest, fullest rainbow that I've ever seen arching over the bay. The view from the roof deck has never been more magical.
July 14, 2003
If You're Fond of Sand Dunes...
We couldn't have asked for more beautiful weekend up here on the Cape. Warm,
sunny days with cool breezes coming in off the water. Two very funny
houseguests who are as chaming as they are nice to look at. A couple of
festive after-hours parties and a beautiful sunrise (yup, one of
those parties) on my roof deck yesterday morning.
Connie and the M. from San Diego take off this afternoon ... wish they could
stay the whole week.
So today's question is "is the well-connected local boy passed out on the
sofa really homeless, or was he just being a cracky drama queen and wanting
to go anywhere but home?" Ah, I do have a knack for finding the messy ones.
Oh, and sex on the bedroom deck under a full moon is kinda hot.
July 11, 2003
Him: Didn't you just go to Provincetown?
Me: Yeah, but that was only for the weekend. This is for the whole week.
Him: You suck.
Me: And how.
The bus leaves at 8am tomorrow morning. All aboard that's going aboard.
July 10, 2003
Mommy, Why Does My Tummy Hurt?
Apologies to Jodi for borrowing the vegetarian dinner plate motif....
Last night L. had such a stomach ache that he swore he was getting the flu. This evening, feeling better, we sought medical treatment at a pre-Ptown happy hour.
I just walked into the kitchen and saw he'd prepared this conconction for his dinner.
Tofu "chicken" salad with pickle relish on a slice of cold 7 Sprouted Grains bread. Ouch.
The Opposite of a Sad Minute?
Why, it's a happy hour!
Off to drinks with L. after a busy, busy day
Presentation for Tokyo, done
Meetings about the budget, done
Conference calls about compliance, done
Lunch with a cute boy, done
Catch-up call with J. the high-powered fashion agent, done
Meeting with IT about systems migration, done
Placed order for Lypsinka tickets, done
Yup, I've worked up a powerful thirst.
July 9, 2003
Ugly is Relative
And no, I'm not talking about my family, so don't nobody go getting your knickers in a twist.
The ever lovely Thomas is feeling weary about his bone. I'm sure someone out there has a link to or collection of less-than-A-list genetalia. Be a sport and please share. We in the blogging community must endeavor to keep our members happy.
Bring This Ship into the Shore
I'm sure this day will only get better.
1. I couldn't sleep to save my life last night
2. Mr. Ambien wasn't on the menu due to a 7am call w/ a colleague in Tokyo who didn't call, arigato very much
3. I woke up with REO Speedwagon's "I Can't Fight This Feeling Anymore" in my head and it just won't leave
4. I looked at my lucky bamboo this morning, and 2 of the 3 stalks were dead; feng shit
5. No A/C on the train this morning
July 8, 2003
Where's That Mute Button?
Miss Musto might have declared Chelsea officially "just plain over," but it was a big ol' boyfest tonight.
I think maybe since we didn't have a proper Spring, now that Summer is in full swing (as were some of tonight's decidedly unsupported packages in gym shorts), the boys have flirt mode on heavier than normal. If we saw one potential whiplash, we saw a hundred. And my neck's a little sore as well. We dined al fresco on 8th Avenue to a parade of boys that very well might have been an A&F casting call, only most of them were of legal age and had a few more tatoos. Okay, post-A&F, or maybe the models from 5 years ago ... all grown up and just a little sweaty.
And then they spoke.
Guy on cell: "Okay then, what can I do to make you love me?"
um, log on to www.codependent_no_more.com
and then ...
Him: "I'm not an actor, I'm not a writer, I'm just a survivor."
Her: "You are."
Him: "I mean music is my life. I don't play anything, but it's my passion, my life, my ..."
Her: "Your joie de vive."
Him: "Yeah, my joie de vive."
In today's e-mail from one of the Powers That Be: "As agreed we will talk again and please mark in your diary to potentially come to London on the 23rd July. "
This from the same source who allegedly called me to Brussels a couple weeks ago ... travel desk on speed dial, passport ready, breath not being held.
I was having a nice run in a dream last night, when my right ankle started hurting really badly. I stopped to give it a rub, and saw that my foot and shin were all swollen and full of blisters. What's that mean?
Never had that dream before, nor do I need to have it again, thank you very much.
July 7, 2003
I had such a beautiful elevator ride up to the cafeteria this afternoon. Two of the most delicious boys, who I'd never seen before, were talking about how they'd spent the weekend at the beach. One was a little burned because he missed a spot on his lower back when putting on the sunscreen. "It's like the Coppertone ad," he said.
Would I were that puppy.
In my mind, I pulled the emergency stop button, whipped out some cooling aloe and gave a lesson in even application. Now that would have been a lunch break.
July 6, 2003
Flutter Kicking with Esther Williams
I think we've had one of the most perfectly relaxing weekends on record. Many thanks to our gracious hosts and their friends for providing multiple banquets of food, wine and laughter.
Three days at the beach with the Potter gang, two very entertaining dinner parties with a potted gang and one quasi-successful (nobody drowned) attempt at late-night naked synchronized swimming later, I'm a skosh sunburned, very well rested and ready to face the 5-day (gasp! the horror!) work week ahead of me. It's made more bearable knowing that we'll be back in Ptown for an entire week starting next Saturday. Yup, it's a good life.
July 4, 2003
Roll Out Those Lazy Hazy ...
Greetings from Southampton. The beach was warm and hazy, but it all burnt
off and it couldn't be more perfect right now. Came back to our hosts' home,
frolicked in the pool for a while and now we're getting ready to go Red
Rick's annual 4th of July cocktail extravaganza. A smart dinner party is on
the agenda after that.
Overheard ... "So and so just took a million dollars off the price off his
house." Times are tough, eh?
July 3, 2003
Getting ready to head out for the long weekend and trying to set up the b'berry for some beach blogging.
Will it work?
Quoted On the Wire
Gee, I guess that press pass that Dr. M wears around his neck really means something.
addendum -- It's not that we haven't been to Pride in the last several years, it's that we've found going to Toronto's pride is usually much more festive than staying here for NY's. And last year we went back to Chicago, returning to the "scene of the crime" for our 10-year anniversary. My, that was a
messy fun one.
July 2, 2003
The end of the world
may be is approaching.
All the comforts of the 'burbs, right across the street from Rent.
Rolling Back Prices, Rolling Ahead with Equality
If Exxon would do the same thing, each of the Top-10 Fortune 500 companies would share similar policy.