the session is NOT going well

Maybe it's the best thing for you, but it's the worst that could happen to me.


PS Honestly, how is this man not my best friend?

PPS Dallas or not, I'm still totally naming any boy-child I raise Sean Avery. Get into it.

you're an angel to me

Um, remember that whole re-crushing thing? Yeah. So it turns out, after watching Johnny Depp accept his MTV Movie Award, I've regressed further into re-crush territory. Clearly, I've never been righter than I was in 1987. Holy smokes.

seductive in small doses

Sometime last week or the week before, I got re-crushed on someone. Re-crushed is bad, worse than newly-crushed. With newly-crushed, there's a lot of learning to do, things to watch for, things to look up.

With re-crushed, there is all of that, plus all of the stuff I'd originally experienced/written/talked about to re-explore. In other words, I've been trolling my old online diaries and annoying the heck out of my friends by making them flesh out my remembrances.

It's bad, but it isn't on purpose. Something in my brain chemistry does this to me. I don't mean it. It's a sickness, for serious.

No one understands the disease quite like the Trash Can Sinatras, who have given us a completely exhilarating song about it -- good luck not getting caught up in it.

mog.com

More about this song

Share

I love this song the way I love the people I get re-crushed on. "Hayfever" takes me over, "Drowners"-style. The crush takes me over, "Drowners"-style. By the time the song is over, you (well, I) believe you've been on the best ride ever that was just short enough to leave you feeling cheated. I don't think I've ever listened to it just once. Repeat! I can't remember why my last crush on this boy ended (someone else moved in, I'd guess), but once clearly wasn't enough. Repeat!

If you really want to enjoy the song, don't dig too deep. It's pretty dark. Poor Harry. He's creepy, yeah, but oh can I relate. [Wo]men, germs, why can't a couple of tablets take care of both? I think Harry might be a maniacal stalker (at least in the lyrics I am finding online ... many of which I never knew or would have guessed) but I understand much of his ailment.

I also must note that the first time I heard this song it was featured on a Details magazine giveaway CD. I am old.

shut it up now

Poor Dollie. Oh, you have no idea what she's had to listen to for the past two weeks. It's about a boy, of course. It almost always is. I only talk about two things, work and a boy, not always the same boy, but generally only one at a time. At least this boy is pretty great, so that's helpful. The thing is, he really likes talking and listening, so in a perfect world, I could talk to him about him and he'd probably never get annoyed, but we don't live in a perfect world, do we? No. And poor Dollie has to pay.

honestly I don't remember who you are

Here's what happened:


Hockey. We win, we lose, it runs my life. PS Have you met Fredrik Sjostrom?

<--

I mean, really. Whoa, right? Today hockey isn't looking great, but we will still win the Stanley Cup and I will still get my tattoo.

In other news, everything else is difficult and making me miserable, including the fact that my annual (see 2007 and 2006) so so so wrong obsession with a so so so wrong man has come around, and he's pulling a "CSI: Miami" this year. I can laugh about it now, but that doesn't make it OK.

Hmm, what else? Finally, after getting my hands on the book years late (and then choosing to put it on the backburner and avoid reading it right after my poor Nipsey went to heaven), I am reading "The Year of Magical Thinking." Which is great because I can't even listen to "11:11" without crying (believe me, I have tried!), clearly a book about death is just what I need during these fragile (for some reason) days. But what Joan Didion does (what she always does) is make me itch to write my book. So I have been, a tiny bit. A very tiny bit. I came home last night after an unsettling outing with El Fano (the movie was disturbing, not the company) and wrote two small parts. I think I only have about 1,200 other parts to go. Hooray!

In these uncertain times, a good song to listen to is "Second Chance," by Liam Finn, because it feels like a shot of adrenaline, mostly when it gets to the "you stand around your haunted home" mark. I love it right now, and I hope you like it too.

mog.com

More about this song

Share

get out of town and forever be free

I have a monster crush, which means that I am feeling a little in love right now (or a lot in like, at least) — in that fun one-sided way that I enjoy. When I feel this way, it makes everything sound a little better and more romantic, including songs.

And so I present "Forever For Her (Is Over For Me), which may be some old last-ditch effort by Jack White to get Renee Zellweger back (Is that true? I feel like I read it somewhere once), but more than that, it's totally a super-dreamy love song that I have certainly not been skipping on my iPod lately.

I'm not completely sold on The White Stripes and I'm really not a fan of this album, but honestly, "Everybody's reaction is changing you/ But their love is only a fraction of what I can give to you" is like over the moon stuff, people.

Perhaps it is sad story that I find nothing more romantic than a plea to run away together, but come on, that's romantic! I'd probably go anywhere with a person if he wrote me this song. Wouldn't you?

mog.com

More about this song

Share

chock full of expectations

So sometime last week — Monday, I think — I finally got around to visiting Mike Viola's web site, which I don't do daily. Turns out he posted on 2/14 that this Joe's Pub party was a send-off ("I'm waving goodbye, you think I'm waving hello"). He's moving his family to Los Angeles.

While we wish them happiness, fun and amazing success in L.A., it's a huge downer to lose them, especially after getting to see him play all these weeks in a row. It's been 11 years that we've been following Mike Viola's career, and back in the beginning, he played out all the time with the Candy Butchers. We'd see them once a week at a minimum. What a delight.

Anyway, here's a Mike Viola song about everything ever. It's not a great example of his similarities to Marshall Crenshaw (see last week's post), but it's a great example of his greatness, in that it's totally live, very simple and completely devastating. He isn't even showing off what a great singer and guitar player he is on this one. There are probably 10 MV songs on my 100 Greatest Songs of All Time list, but this is way up there.

mog.com

More about this song

Share

Also, if you are keeping track, I got a crazy bad crush on someone at the show (not Mike Viola, obviously). If you want to know more, find me and ask about it. Poor Dollie and Kim would certainly like a break from hearing about him. He is dreamy, though.

shake the disease

I'm feeling better, a lot better, but still really awful. So I did what anyone in my position (two blocks away from Macy's) would do. I went to Henrik to be healed. Am I healed? Not so far. But I did get to look at him in person and stand right in front of him for a full 20 seconds and even talk to him a little. Plus I got a signed puck.

He's totally all gorgeous in person, in case you were wondering.

fake headlines, believe them

Oh, if only this were happening. (You know it was inspired by that episode of "Inside the Rangers" I was telling you about. He looks just beautiful in it.)


Rangers' Orr Could Be The Bachelor?

How fantastic and hilarious would it be, though, seriously? Especially since he has a girlfriend and is not interested! Did I mention that it would be one hour a week of Colton Orr?! I'm starting a petition.

Dear Colton Orr's lovely girlfriend, You're in show business — get on with the show! You know these "Bachelor" fauxmances never last. What does it take, two weeks to film? Then he's back with you forever. Think of my entertainment. Please.

I want to be haunted

I admit it: I totally thought it was Luis Guzman, not Rick Aviles in "Ghost." And I've hated him ever since.

Also, if you like the New York Rangers, or even just hockey — or, in all honesty, even just men — you really really REALLY might want to watch this week's "Inside the Rangers". It will change your life.

please leave those poor sick monkeys alone

I love "Flight of the Conchords," the HBO show. And I love Flight of the Conchords, the act — though it took creating a sitcom around the songs for me to truly appreciate lines like "They're turning kids into slaves just to make cheaper sneakers/ But what's the real cost 'cause the sneakers don't seem that much cheaper" (Love it for yourself!)

Bret and Jemaine are both lovely and amazing, but I am crazy about only one. The funny thing is that everyone I know has been able to guess which one. I am afraid to ask why.

It is Jemaine ("of course," you may be saying, if you know me.)

And here is a picture of him laughing and wearing a magnificent shirt.

It looks like it is from a party. I wasn't at that party. Instead I took the photo from Jemaine.com.

What is the point of all of this? Well, none really. Except the last episode of the show is on in about 15 minutes, and I'm already sad that it's all over (until next year). Yes, I've already watched the first 11 episodes several times each. If you have another suggestion to ease my wonderful pain (while I wait for "Eagle Vs. Shark" to either return to NY or hit DVD), I'm all ears.

run to me when you need a shoulder

A while back I shared my plan for turning my apartment into a halfway house for wayward celebrities (I believe it was called Jane and Dollie's Halfway House for Wayward Celebrities, but now I can't find the post. How annoying). But I never followed through. And for that, for failing to share my healing help with my favorite famous people, I apologize to Owen Wilson (presuming this story is true -- for once, I hope the Enquirer got it wrong.)

Owen, when the detox is over, you are welcome to be our charter case. Unlike other rehabilitation facilities, JADHHFWC is a free service. Our cozy facility's amenities include a large TV with premium cable (therapeutic screenings of "Big Brother" and Rangers games are mandatory) and an extensive DVD library, lots of pillows, Digestive biscuits and tea every morning, story-time picnics in the adjacent park featured prominently in "Flight of the Conchords," a limited-edition DDYW T-shirt, lots of laughs and unlimited hugs. This offer is non-transferable.

you'd better start warming up

Should I move to Minnesota?

It's not like I have a job here. And my friends keep leaving NY — and one of my #1 favorite people of all time ever already lives in MN. Plus Minneapolis is super fun.

But these things have been true before and I haven't left. Now, though, I am beginning to see a pattern.

Exhibit A:

My longtime pretend love, Josh Hartnett. He's from St. Paul.

Exhibit B:

My most recent heartbreak, "Big Brother" Nick is another Minnesotan (PS Did you notice how he wore a St. Cloud State shirt on "The Early Show" after he was evicted?)

And that matters because it's the alma mater of ...

The great Exhibit C:
(Click him. He talks!)

I may never get over his leaving me* (*OK, not me, but me) but maybe if I lived nearer to his home, it would ease the pain.

Or, you know, I could find my very own Minnesota dream boy. That may also work.

don't take it personal

I had another memorable dream. Two of them. And they were way better than the stupid Sloan/ Korn one, though both were tied to work.

In one, it was my last day of work, and some IT person was running off a report of my computer, noting all the things I looked at that I shouldn't (as if I had any time for that during the day!) and as I was like, "Whatever, F- you guys," someone (with whom I do not work in real life) said, "Jane, I'd like you to meet ..." and before they could get "... Henrik Lundqvist" out I'd attached myself to the lovely goalie, never to be parted.

Then in another one, someone I really do work with told someone else in the office that I had a crush on him (gee, thanks). While this was more realistic (it was the real people, and I really do have a -- foolish, terrible -- crush on the one guy), it wasn't scarily so. For one thing, Sha doesn't know, so it isn't like he could tell the guy. Also, even if he did know, I believe he would never sell out a Queens girl like that. The best part of the dream? The crush guy, upon learning this news, took off his pants -- in the office. But no, even that isn't the best part. The BEST PART is that when he did that I said, "Really, you should put your pants back on. It's not that serious."

"It's not that serious"! Amazing. Best line ever.

I am having an exausting week. I have been cosmically clowned, and it has made me not want to do anything, not even dance with the gays. What a bummer.

Overheard in my living room ...

Dollie: Marat said he may retire.
Jane: He should retire right here.
Dollie: He's said he's tired of getting no results.
Jane: I'll give him some results.
Dollie: "You ARE the father!"

i just fall asleep because I'm not involved

There is nothing on TV and nothing I want to watch on the DVR. How boring. I mean, sure, I have about 90 other things to do, but I am exhausted. I wanted to watch very dumb TV and not think. I wish the "Human Giant" marathon was on again. I love that thing.

I have 19 more work days of work. That is so many.

To celebrate my freedom, I'm thinking Tortilla Flats bingo. Do they even do that anymore? Forgive me my ignorance, I haven't been in the general population in a good long time.

PS I have been keeping up with my MOGging vow of one song per day. For I rule. I don't know if I can do it this weekend since I won't be home. But love will find a way. Some man told me that once.

Speaking of some man, I picked some man to like, for it is May and I do that, plus it makes the time go faster (19 work days and all). But then he turned out to be too young, so we broke up. And by we, I do not mean we.

See, delirious.

In reality news, one of my all-time favorite people (two of my all-time favorite people, really) just bought a wonderful house. I am so happy about it! They are great and so is the house. Yay!

PPS: YAY!

mog.com

More about this song

Share

want to guess his name? I'll give you three choices ...

Sleeping until 10AM really f-s with your day, even when it is a day off. This is probably more of an issue if you generally get up at 4AM.

PS Todor Kobakov truly is Todorlly awesome. I'm guessing. I can't be sure, but talking about him all night last night is about the most fun I ever had.

the better better better it gets

It's official: Ryan Gosling is a dream walking.

Oh yes, and nothing else matters in life but hockey.

wrung me out too too too many times

Today I left work an hour and a half late (nothing shocking), and when I got home I spent another hour doing other work things. And then I got an e-mail that said I have a meeting that starts at the time when I'm supposed to leave work, PS I needed to leave an hour early tomorrow.

So what I did was cry. Seriously. I cried for an hour. I cried at the computer, I cried on the phone, I cried on the couch. I went into my room and starting packing my bag for my trip (which I will now be late for) crying while watching "The Job."

I love "The Job." The job, not so much. Now I am sitting at the computer (oh, but you knew that) having downed three Advil and a beer (My self-medication is squarely OTC), and I have stopped crying. I'm calling that progress.

PS I love Colton Orr.

would you knooooooow MYYYYY naaaaaaaaame?

I've got a new pretend boyfriend at the hockey game. He sits in my section and seems to have the same ticket plan I do. He is cute. I insisted that Dollie pick a name for him (I have to call him something), and she named him Jorge.

"Why Jorge?"

"Well, I told you I thought he was French!"

There was laughing. There was screaming. And that's all there is to say about that.

PS This title is from a Sheila Divine song. (I fixed it so that you know that it isn't Eric Clapton). And speaking of The Sheila Divine, Dear Leader, starring Sheila Divine frontman Aaron Perrino, is playing Friday night. Yay! OH NO! They are not. I just went to the page to link to it, and it's canceled. Now I cry all day forever.

the good old days, the honest man

Oh no oh no oh. Dollie was right. I am man crazy. It is not good. The worst part of it is that right now, I am not even just man crazy in general (though I will admit that I do also harbor a teeny mini crush on a very young, very pretty, very inappropriate man -- but that's another story).

BUT for real I am one-man crazy, and it's one man I don't even hardly ever see, one man who I could have previously taken advantage of on any number of occasions. One man who I got similarly (and similarly too late) crazy for like 10 months ago. Ugh! Boo and hiss.

Worst of all, I totally don't even know where he lives or remember his last name or any of those important investigative-type things. I am giving this all a resounding thumbs down.

Also, I am totally obsessed with that Killers song. I listened to it all the way home today. Weirdo.

I got the green light, I got a little fight

I think what's going to happen is that the Killers are going to win me over on the disappointing Sam's Town by putting out every song as a single. I'm three for three with "Oh yeah, I guess I do like that song." Now "Read My Mind" has a video (which I have not seen yet) and it's my new favorite song. Good work changing my mind, Killers.

Last night I went out (to the whitest place I've been since that place on the West Side Highway — and last night I was in Greenpoint. What?!??!)

OK, it's aside time. And yes, I know I am white, very white, in fact. All Northern European ancestry — we kind of have white on lock, in most senses of the word. But not mine. The white that makes me want to leave nightlife establishments, the white that gives me that fright, is a very specific "I'm not from around these parts but I'm certainly not from another country"/ "I always have a trust fund or a job at the family company to fall back on"/ "I'm totally buying a big house back home as soon as I get NYC out of my system"/ "I even use toilet seat covers at home." These things aren't bad, they just aren't me. I prefer slightly grittier company.

Anyway, it was fine but mostly boring. Which was really just as well, as I had to be up and at 'em c. 8AM today. (Thanks again, Grammys!).

Earlier, the Rangers won again (oh thank you thank you, lovelies) thanks in no small part, I'm certain, to my rediscovery of the power of a well-placed "You're ugly!" scream at the other team during the game. It got us the Cup in 1994, I assure you, and calling Pavel Bure ugly wasn't easy. "LeCavalier, you're an ugly bastard and you stink" stuck in my throat on Friday night as well, but it turned into a 5-0 win. Good thing 90 percent of the most beautiful players are on our team.

Last night I had a dream that I was at a fancy party with theater journalist Patrick Pacheco and Seymour Butts. They were both pretty fun.

three will love you so much

Wouldn't it be a kick if I started calling hockey games right here (live-blogging, I think the kids call it). Well, it would be a kick for me. Anyway, the second period of the Rangers at the Bruins is just starting, and we're up 2-1.

And which line did both of those goals come from? The third line. The line they bumped Matt Cullen (Eeee!) to because he was apparently outclassed as a second-line center. Whatever. Now he's centering Prucha and Ortmeyer. That is a trio I can really get into. Two Americans, even. And we (yes, now this is MY line) got both goals. So there.

PS And yes, I am the top search result for "stab myself in the neck". Good times.

PPS 8:18: Now it's 3-1. And yep, my line again.

Oh, and 8:22: Boston power play. Rangers' short handed goal. Whose? Matt Cullen's. It's 4-1. My line has all four goals.

Alrighty. It's 9:41. It's a 6-1 final, thanks to Shanahan's penalty shot and a Nylander goal. It wasn't an ALL third-line victory, but close enough. And what a joy! I can't remember the last time I had this much fun. Seriously.

'cause all I ever have in mind is ...

Last weekend — or was it the weekend before? — Dollie accused me of being "man crazy." Man crazy. Imagine? Just for fixating on some smiley eavesdropping dude who came into Jerry's in a Mets hat and told us when the new Garden was built (Hey, if you're that man, you could call me. Go back to Jerry's and they will tell you how to).

See, the thing is, I never get to see new boys. Lucky people who work in stores don't understand this. I see the same people every day, and of course I wouldn't like any of them — no office crushes for me since c. 1999 and Baseline Jeff (Hey, if you're that man, you could call me. Go to Jerry's and they will tell you how).

So yeah, new boys are very interesting to me. Like the guy who picked up my laundry this evening, for example. He was so smiley and tall and nice, and even complemented my (totally fantastic, as it happens) doormat. Hey, if you're that dude, call me. Or, you know, just bring back my laundry tomorrow.

There's no Rangers hockey until Saturday, so I'm pretty hard up for boy time. I'll not apologize.

yeah, no problem, Tyuts

I'm not sure what you know about "Bobby Granger's Guide to the Rangers" (very little is my guess. If I'm wrong, let me know. We have so much to discuss!) but it is a series of short spots promoting the greatest sport's greatest team (this is not defined with win/loss stats, clearly). Anyway, they are all quite funny and deliver precious off-ice seconds with the players.

Last night, Dollie introduced me to this one, which is my favorite ever, not just because Matt Cullen is in it (he's the ping-pong playing "Bonehead" who doesn't understand Russian) but mostly because it made me laugh for at least 15 minutes after I saw it. That plant? Comedy gold. I've never caught this one on TV, and I seriously watch hours of MSG a day. So I'm sharing. Enjoy!

the alarm is set for noon

We won! We won we won we won. I loved it. Matt Cullen played 98 shifts (the scorecard doesn't show this, but I know what I saw) and also took off his helmet and shook out his hair at one point. It looked like a new 'do. I liked it. This also didn't show up on the scorecard. I warn you now, the yearbook comes out Saturday. If it's as good as last year's I may have to take Monday off to take it all in. And you'll hear about it. Get ready.

So yes, fun Rangers times yesterday. Then we went and had pho (yay and yum) and met a great friend's new friend (very handsome, very fun), walked from Chinatown to Union Square and then through Williamsburg, and then we came home. Soon there was sleeping. Over nine hours of it.

This is what a weekend is supposed to be, my loves. Fun, sleeping, wins, boys.

Oh, and I dyed my hair some more. Medium ash brown? Not quite. It is totally black in the back and underneath. That better wear off quick.

And my Christmas tree is down, and out on the curb. Progress!

Tomorrow, Target and laundry. And gearing up for a hell of a week.

Oh my God. Andy Rooney is droning on and on about team names. He is killing me.

life is a test and I get bad marks

OK, I decided how I will know my one true love when I meet him: I will say, "Cool Ice, Cold Soda" and he will know what I am I talking about. Don't bother looking it up online, would-be suitors. Google is no help. Someone out there knows what I mean, and probably maybe it is Matt Cullen.

Hopefully this damn team stops losing, else I may have to think twice about him. Even if he knows "Cool Ice, Cold Soda." See, now I can say that because it is my team. Brett Hull, on the other hand, is dead to me. Talking smack about Matt Cullen and Adam Hall? In the middle of a game? On MSG? Don't hate the players, hate the game, son.

PS I am officially delirious. Is it really only Thursday?

no need for further questioning

Now Matt's more like it. What a delight. Clearly, Matt Cullen just needed someone to talk him up. See how supportive I am? I inspire great success. Unfortunately, the post-game interview highlighted just how incredibly lovely the mighty Mr. Cullen is, and now everyone will be in love. What a bummer.

Do you think there will be NY Rangers at the Sloan show? They're off that night and the next night. And it's right between a NJ game and a home game, so they'll be in town, presumably. Lots of Canadians in the ranks — you'd think someone on the team has to like Sloan. I ask only because I'm going to need something to entertain me during the bad songs. There's only so many times I can go to the ladies' room. Alone. If you're at the show and see a Ranger, find me quick.

it's the last thing that's holding me

Oh Sloan. Their L.A. album release party is a Cobrasnake production, DJed by Steve Aoki. I find this adorable, somehow.

So do you think the U.S. release is going to have 30 completely different tracks? I'm holding on to hope.

PS: Eeeee!

slow down, you're taking me over

Yes, he's married. Yes, he has a new baby (named Brooks. How delightful is that?!) But I'm sorry, when the Brett Anderson of the NHL is on my team, I'm bound to catch some feelings. I mean, really.

see I'm wise enough to know when a gift needs givin'

I cannot stop watching that SNL "_ in a box" video. Not to mention my obsession with "What's my weakness? Soup!" and Jo-Jessica. Man, Justin has created an instant classic. In my version of events, he wrote the great sketches. How else was it so funny? Also when Alec Baldwin was on, he wrote his own sketches too. And Ludacris also.

Anyway, "backstage at the CMAs" will never have the same meaning again.

Another night, another awful hockey game. I think they are trying to destroy me. Thankfully, my latest obsession (no, not Brand New. It's Matt "Don't Shave Too High You'll Regret It Later" Cullen — and yes, I know he has unfortunate hair. And a wife.) was out hurt. Thankfully? Why? Because I got to spend the whole game wondering what he was doing. PS It was always dirty.

But the Bigmouth Maple Leafs fan wasn't annoying about the Saturday night loss at all. "Come on, you have to let me gloat a little," he said. "We're on a one-game winning streak!" Fair enough.

make it up yourself, you don't need anybody else

When I woke up this morning, there were two strange men in my house. And I'd only met one before. So we all went out to get breakfast on the corner. They went their way, me and Dollo went back home. The scandal.*

* Of course there is a very scandal-free explanation for this all, but that is boring, isn't it? Yes, it is.

PS Now I am obsessed with Pulp again. Thanks, Emma.

your head is used and sore, and the forecast is for more

Thanks be to lovely Briddy-B. I revisited this ol' OK Cupid delight. I needed this help with a post today. PS The result is so me, isn't it?

The Window Shopper
Random Gentle Love Dreamer (RGLDf)

Loving, hopeful, open. Likely to carry on an romance from afar. You are The Window Shopper.

You take love as opportunities come, which can lead to a high-anxiety, but high-flying romantic life. You're a genuinely sweet person, not saccharine at all, so it's likely that the relationships you have had and will have will be happy ones. You've had a fair amount of love experience for your age, and there'll be much more to come.

Part of why we know this is that, of all female types, you are the most prone to sudden, ferocious crushes. Your results indicate that you're especially capable of obsessing over a guy you just met. Obviously, passion like this makes for an intense existence. It can also make for soul-destroying letdowns.

Your ideal match is someone who'll love you back with equal fire, and someone you've grown to love slowly. A self-involved or pessimistic man is especially bad. Though you're drawn to them, avoid artists at all costs.

Your exact opposite: The Stiletto Deliberate Brutal Sex Master

BEWARE: The Hornivore

CONSIDER: The Gentleman, The Loverboy, The Boy Next Door

Link: The 32-Type Dating Test by OkCupid - Free Online Dating.

what you do in your head, you do in your head

I am exhausted. And I really want a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

Over the weekend I fell in make believe love and quickly broke up with two people (this is how I roll).

First was that huge dude from "Kitchen Confidential" who is now on "The Nine" (we broke up because he is going to marry Dawn from "The Office").

Then was evil Ric from "General Hospital", who is too cute to be evil, plus remember when he was on "Days of Our Lives" 45 years ago? You know I had a magazine with him in it at the time. Also, he is from Queens. I can't believe he is already married.

Just to clarify, I never had imaginary friends until fairly recently (though I did think as a child that TV could watch me back).

captain of her heart

"Please welcome the 24th captain in Blueshirts history: #68, right wing Jaromir Jagr.

I cried.

And then he winked.

Fan. Tastic.

it'd take all day to explain it

The shift key on my keyboard stopped working. Just the left-side one, but that's the only one I use. This is so annoying.

If you're wondering how the Don McKellar fixation is going, it's just fine, thanks. "Childstar" is currently on the Sundance Channel's playlist if you're so inclined. I do not like that chin patch thing, but it does fit the role.

The sad tragedy (well, not really all that) of this Don McKellar problem is that back when I first got Don McKellar/Callum Keith Rennie mania (after I saw "Last Night"), I ordered all the movies that were out on video in Canada. On VHS. I have a VCR near my TV, but I don't think it is even hooked up. Bleh. It would be easier to just re-buy them on DVD, I think. I am lazy.

Speaking of lazy, this using the right-side shift key is killing me. Also, it is only 8 a.m. I'm going back to bed.

second verse, out of breath

This is a week of butt.

First Kevin Aviance gets gay bashed. In the East Village. By a group of punk-ass bitches who apparently didn't get the memo that "Bloods" and "Crips" (please, Bloods and Crips in NY is so ridiculous anyway) aren't supposed to hang out together (um, hi) ganging up on lone men.

And then Dan Abrams becomes the GM of MSNBC (what does that even mean -- also dig the hate in The Washington Post article. Dude.) and doesn't have a show anymore.

Dear World, You Suck. Love, Jane

writing to reach you

Dollie's suggested letter for me to send to Don McKellar:

Dear Don McKellar,
I have, in the past, overlooked the severe lazy eye of Chris Murphy (after he won a Juno), and it enables me to overlook your similar shortcoming. I was going to approach you back at the "Childstar" premiere at BAM, but you were not nearly accomplished enough to attract me. Now that you've added a Tony and a Drama Desk Award to your mantle, I am now ready to consummate my newfound attraction.

Gold, baby. Gold.

can I go nowhere with you?

While waiting for the bus today (Oh God, I hate doing this. This is why I walk the 70 miles from the train. But I forgot an umbrella today, so bus it was), I had an incredibly vivid fantasy featuring a boy that I like (Who I really have to give up liking. I haven't even seen him in 30 forevers now). It was totally hot. He drove by and stopped and drove me home. And that was it. I have very sexy fantasies.

I was watching that Springsteen at London something concert (it is very famous) on channel 21 (though I have the DVD) and I'm pretty sure that "Backstreets" is my all time favorite song. Over "Against All Odds"? Yes. Topping even "Backstabbin'" -- oh no, I can't even finish that joke. Yes. "Backstreets" is #1. It has an alluring (ooh!) intro, a big finale, yelling and also that repeating part. Everything I like. Fantastic.

Speaking of fantastic, I present the Gay Pimp podcast. You have to listen. All day, every day. Listen and tell me I am wrong. You can't. I wish it were more than once a week. This week they talk about having a whole station. I would listen. I would give up sleeping to listen. I would quit my job to listen. I can't get enough.

What is up with that "Jane Fonda" song? I kind of love it. Maybe it is very old, I only know it from looking up "jane fonda" on YouTube.com (don't ask) and it made me laugh.

Dan Abrams just said, "It does make me feel yuck." I live.