Archive for December, 2006

A Good Find

I had never before seen these angry emails between my hero Judd Apatow and the tron who ruined television with That 70’s Show, but here they are. Enjoy.

[PS – Boyfriend just told me I am like 100 years behind on this shit.  I was too busy looking at celebaginas, I guess]

New Years Run

This was how I used to spend New Years.

It Was Therapeutic

Last night, my friends Charlie, Jim and Gil celebrated their birthdays at this place called Deno’s Party House here in NYC. They set up some instruments and invited some of our friends to play some jams.

And then I started singing.

A lot.

For hours.

Mostly Beyonce and Shakira.

I only stopped when Pat Baer came over and threatened to kill me.


Sorry about that guys.


La la la di da






Young Hov

“Stop Laughing.  My fart wasn’t THAT loud.”


If you ever wanted to get me a gift or a pet for which I need not be responsible, I think this would be a good way to do it.

I really love pigs (and I haven’t eaten them in over a year and a half!).

Comfort Books

Maybe you suffer from anxiety like me. And perhaps it gets worse at night, when it’s time to sleep, like me. Or maybe sometimes you wake up feeling panicked with your heart racing, and can not fall back asleep, as I often do.

Or maybe you are MaryKate Olsen and you can’t sleep at night because your bones are crying and missing their muscle.

Regardless, I have been trying to get over my sleepless nights by reading. And pills. But more importantly and educationally – READING!

The first time I did this I picked up some book my mom had lying around – “We Are The Dunleaveys” ( I think?) – which is written by some famous lady whose name any decent lit-head would know. I am not one of them. The book details a tight knit family that goes apeshit when their perfect daughter is raped after a school dance, and because they can’t handle their own insecurities with the situation, they send her away and she becomes some sort of anorexic cult member. This fucker made my heart race so much that all hopes of obtaining some sort of calming effect from the written page was shot. I chucked the thing on my floor never to look back again, but still I spent night after night dreaming about being sent away by my family to some bizarro college cult. I do not know what happens in the end, but my guess the daughter ends up looking like our friend MKO, above, just in shittier shoes.

I am now much more sensible about my comfort books. They are grilled cheese sandwiches and french fries for my brain. I know these books – they sooth me, they make me feel warm and fuzzy and most importantly, tired. In Massachusetts, at my parents house, I use “Miss America” and “Private Parts” by Howard Stern. “Quivers A Life”, by his cohort Robin, is on deck. “Me Talk Pretty One Day” is by my bed in New York City, and I keep an additional copy in Boston just in case. It is also my audio-book of choice for the bus/train/gym. I am a baby in the arms of these books – they help me relax and eventually fall asleep – all the while increasing my literary pedigree.

I’m sure that lady that wrote the smart book about the crazy family with a raped daughter would be proud.

My Fanciest Face

My lovely friend Natasha – redhead, writer, baby momma and all around hot ticket – posted an entry on her blog the other day written solely for ME!  The title of the entry was my name written in exclamation – so not only was it all mine it was all sorts of serious.  And just what was the urgent issue at hand, you ask?

Her celebrity sighting of the actress who plays Carrie on Days of Our Lives.

Now this may not seem like a big deal to some anyone, but spotting a Days Of Our Lives actor in the flesh is my NUMBER ONE celeb spotting fantasy.  First off, I am a HUGE Days fan (as is my homegirl Natasha).  I TiVo and watch it every day, thanks to one sick day long ago in middle school when my mother introduced to me what being an American woman is REALLY about – clothed sex on private jets, sleeping with your sister’s dying husband and being possessed by Satan – every afternoon.

I have seen lots of celebs – I worked in a SoHo store long enough to help a lot of them – and overall, it’s generally a letdown.  They are either extraordinarily creepy, boring as all hell or have rampant acne.  But what is so great about soap actors is, unlike the rest of the famous people out there, you have NO IDEA who they are in real life.  I have watched Days Of Our Lives since I was bursting onto the pubescent scene and these are the only facts I know about the show’s actors:

  • Dr. Marlena Evans is played by Deirdre Hall
  • The actor who plays Victor Kiriakis is Jennifer Aniston’s dad.  I do not know his real name, though I assume it is Aniston.


So what is creepy and also kind of exhilarating, is that if I saw the guy who plays Bo Brady on the street, my brain would probably think it really was Bo, on his way to break into the DiMera mansion for clues about Abe’s blindness.   Or maybe he is just stopping by the jewelry store to pick up a necklace for FancyFace to give to her at dinner later that night at the Brady Pub.

The thought of seeing my Days stars in the flesh thrills me more than a Lindsay Lohan-Nicole Richie-BritBrit Vagina sighting. Because maybe, just maybe,  if I meet them in person they can transport me back to Salem and I can get lost in the magical world of a town with only 4 families and babies that are born in 1994 and return in 2006 as 30 year-old race car drivers.

I just don’t know anymore

“Click here for lyrics 6 year old Heather Martin sings a song that her mother wrote for her Brother Shaun who is serving in Iraq. The song is written from Heather’s point of view.”


You were almost sixteen when I came into the world.
Mom and Dad had you first then 3 more boys I’m the baby girl.
I sure have a lot to look up to in you, you’re really smart and funny with a big heart too.
After one year of college you knew what you had to do.
It’s just like you wanting to help with the war.
So you joined the army when I was only 4.
This time of year we talk of big plans but you’re over seas in some distant land.
You can’t be here for Christmas, I don’t understand.
When are you coming home, Shaun?
When are you coming home?!
We lit up the house like we always do but it doesn’t seem bright ’cause we can’t have you.
In my prayers I ask God to keep you safe.
And I’m trying to be really brave.
Tell me that the fighting’s through.
Come home!
I really miss you.

It’s hard to enjoy the holidays without you.
But we’re so proud of you and all the red white and blue.
Remember that Jesus is your best friend,
And someday our families will be together again.
Wow! You know we’ll have a great big party then.


I want to show you how tall I’ve grown and introduce you to my new friends at school.
Maybe we could go and get some ice cream together but I really don’t care what we do.



For years, on a secret message board that my old improv team shared, my friend Birch posted the most amazing and strangest pictures, web things and links – tons and tons and tons.  It would keep me entertained, humored, mystified and horrified for hours.  He finally made a web page where he does the same thing. 

It is like being taken on a detailed tour of the internet by god.

December 2006

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