I'm out of town...I'll be back in a week...

I won't have internet access for the next seven days. So I won't be blogging and I won't be commenting. But if you came to this page and you're like, "what the fuck?," then feel free to hang around. You can play CLIFF if you want (just scroll down a few posts), or feel free to pretend my blog is a Rockstar: Supernova messageboard and debate who you think should and shouldn't become the leader singer of the band, or watch me make a banana again, or go check out Bon's blog, or communicatrix's, or Jesse's (who just got his first movie review assignment for a national magazine) (congratulations, jesse!), or go listen to some of my friend Tyler's music (he and a friend are writing a song a day for the next year), or write a haiku. Because haikus rock. (Haiku rock?)

New Thing #125: a coming out (of sorts)

I have to (sort of) (kind of) come out (in a way) (not really) (just a coming out of sorts) (how many times can I use the word “sort” in one sentence?) (I mean, really) (anyway) and I was going to write a Lance Bass related post about my coming out (of sorts), but Lance Bass is, like, so yesterday (but speaking of teeny bopper singers, how embarrassed should I be for LOVING that Hilary Duff song “So Yesterday”) (it’s a really good song) (I LOVE IT) (in fact, I’m listening to the song on my ipod right now as I type this) (I would marry this song if I could) (oh, and speaking of pieces of entertainment I would marry, I would totally marry the trailer for “John Tucker Must Die”) (I am DYING to see that movie) (I am such a twelve-year-old girl sometimes, it’s ridiculous) (when my cousins, Stephanie and Taylor, were, like, babies, they could sing every lyric to every Backstreet Boys song) (I can’t do that) (I’m not THAT MUCH of a twelve-year-old girl) (I mean, I don’t even know whether Lance Bass was in Backstreet Boys or if he was in *N*Sync) (or however they punctuate it) (okay, I DO know which band he was in, but I’m going to keep pretending I don’t) (this is shaping up to be a really embarrassing blog entry) (but even though I know that Lance Bass was in Timberlake’s group, I don’t have any of their music on my ipod, and that’s the god’s honest truth) (“So Yesterday,” however, is on heavy rotation) (but, again, anyway) so now that Lance Bass has come out of the closet, I’m waiting for Liberace to come out again, because if anyone didn’t know Lance Bass was gay, then they’ve got a lot of catching up to do, and I don’t really have anything else to say about that (and besides, Willam Belli already said it all better than I could), so I’ll just get on with my own coming out (of sorts) (I so love saying “of sorts” tonight) (what's up with that?).

I’m 28-years-old (that’s not the thing I’m coming out about) (and, by the way, I’ll be 29 in a week) (where have my 20s gone?) (not that I really miss my twenties) (I think that most people really start to hit their stride in their 30s) and I live with my mom and my step-dad (that’s the thing I’m coming out about).

Okay, if you know me IRL (in real life), then you probably already knew I lived with my parents, but I feel like I have to come out about it because I’ve totally (kind of) (sort of) been pretending that I don’t live with them when it comes to the blog. See, here’s the deal: I moved back home so I could focus on getting out of credit card debt (which I’ve been doing) (I’m totally making progress) (the big one will be ALL PAID OFF next week and I cannot tell you how happy that makes me) (it feels like a major accomplishment) (I guess it doesn’t just feel like one, it IS one) (it feels rockstar, that’s what it feels like) (speaking of rockstar, WHY ARE NONE OF MY BLOG READERS WATCHING ROCKSTAR: SUPERNOVA???) (it’s sooooo good, and I want people to dish with about it) (hey, people out there in the world, if one of your “Rockstar: Supernova,” “Dilana,” or “Storm Large” google searches lands you on my blog, then we should totally talk because, I mean, fuck, you know? How amazing was Dilana’s performance of “Time After Time”???? Chills, I had.) (And apparently I’m Yoda now) and I also moved home so that after I got rid of the credit card debt, I could start building up a savings account (since I haven’t had a savings account since I was in high school and I bought my first car) (rest in peace, Topaz) and I’ve been (sort of) closeted (on my blog) about the fact that I live at home with my parents because I got it into my head that if people (blog readers) (people out there in the ether) knew I lived with my parents, then they wouldn’t respect me, and I also got paranoid that maybe I’d miss out on work opportunities (because who wants to hire a writer who lives with his parents?) but the truth is, no one really cares, so I finally decided to come clean about where I live.

Okay, so, New Thing #125: I came out on my blog about the fact that I live at home. Oh, and it says that I live in Los Angeles in the “about me” section of my blog (up there in the top right corner). The truth is, I live in Orange County. Newport Beach. But I don’t think it’s really a lie to say I live in Los Angeles, because I still live in Los Angeles in my head, I’m a total Angelino at heart, and I’m moving back in January (which is when I’m planning on flying the coop again). So I consider that “Los Angeles” stamp in the top right corner of my blog to be a place holder of sorts.

Anyway.

Moving on.

I have to talk about my new bicycle. I am officially a biker. I fucking love my bike. I’ve only had it for five days, but I’ve already been on four major bike treks, totally roughly 26 miles. (I meant to type “totaling roughly 26 miles,” but there’s something poetic about that typo. Read it again: “I’ve only had it for five days, but I’ve already been on four major bike treks, totally roughly 26 miles.” It’s like surferly poetic, you know?) That’s a lotta miles!

I got my first flat tire the other night. I know, I know, I’ve only had the bike for five days and I’ve already gotten a flat tire. I guess I was riding too hard. I was 10 miles away from home. The sky was black. There was lightning. And Cingular was having a blackout, so my cell phone wasn't getting any service, and I couldn't get through to anyone to ask them to pick me up. It was all very dramatic. I finally gave up on the thought of ever getting home again (I definitely wasn't going to walk) and went to my favorite sushi restaurant for dinner, where I met this limo driver who kept telling me that the reason my bike busted a tire was because I'm "supposed to be right here, right now."

And she's right. I'm getting my shit together and I guess that's what I'm supposed to be doing right now. Sorta like Lance Bass’ gayness.

(Okay, to be totally honest, I don't know how me getting my shit together is "sorta like Lance Bass' gayness," but I had written another paragraph to sum this blog entry up, and that other paragraph ended with the sentence "sorta like Lance Bass' gayness," and then I read the paragraph and decided it wasn't necessary and so I started to delete it and then when my delete key got to the last sentence, I stopped--because even though "sorta like Lance Bass' gayness" might not be an appropriate closing line, it's the best closing line ever.)

Mystery Woman

Does anyone know who this woman is?

Because I was just reading US Weekly (the issue with Tori Spelling on the cover) and I saw this photo in one of their style spreads (the "red carpet" fashion pages) (the theme was "Strapless Starlets")

And then I noticed that the caption at the bottom of the photo said that it was Jennifer Connelly. Check it out:

But this woman:

Simply isn't Jennifer Connelly:

Nothing against the woman pictured in US Weekly. The woman pictured in US Weekly looks like a lovely woman. She even looks a little bit like Jennifer Connelly. But she isn't the star of Opportunity Knocks. Not by a long shot. No way. Nada.

They are two different people. (And if I'm wrong, I'll eat Jennifer Aniston's third hand.) (What is it about women named Jennifer? I didn't even realize that Jennifer Connelly was named Jennifer until I mentioned the mystery of Jennifer Aniston's third hand and then I realized I must totally have this bizarre fixation/fascination with Jennifer related celebrity photo pseudo-scandals.)

Anyway, I understand that everyone makes mistakes, but I was surprised to see US Weekly mislabel a woman as "Jennifer Connelly" because celebrities are pretty much US Weekly's bread and butter and you'd think they would know who was who.

And this woman who is not Jennifer Connelly deserves to have her actual, real, correct name printed in the magazine, rather than have people look at her and think, "is that Jennifer Connelly, or isn't it?" which forces them to take a stand and post blog entries about how it definitely, absolutely isn't Jennifer Connelly, and then hope that it truly isn't, because what if it is and then said blogger looks like a tool? I mean, you know what I mean, US Weekly?

So who's that girl, world? Does anyone know? It's totally buggin' me. (Obviously.)

New Thing #124: I played Cliff with PAM and Joe (updated with more threesomes!)

So last night I had dinner with Urp, my step-sister Patt, PAM, and my step-dad Joe, and we ended up playing Cliff (which is a game I first learned in London in 1998, and which Kathy Griffin also played with her parents on an episode of her show), which was really surreal at first, but then really really funny.

If you don't know the game Cliff, well, it's really simple and it's played like this: Someone says three names and then everyone else has to decide which of those three people they would most like to sleep with, who they would most like to live with, and who they would most like to throw off a cliff.

Joe was like, "what if I wouldn't want to sleep with any of them?" But you can't think like that. I mean, of course there are going to be groups of three who you don't want to sleep with--and there are going to be groups of three where you don't want to throw any of them off a cliff, too--but you have to imagine that someone is holding a gun to your head and forcing you to sleep with one, live with one, and throw one.

A few revelations:

--When I offered the names Carrie, Charlotte, and Miranda from Sex and the City, everyone (except for me) wanted to throw Charlotte off the cliff, and that made me so sad because I totally relate to Charlotte more than any of the other Sex and the City characters and I felt like everyone wanted to throw me off the cliff.

--My mom wants to sleep with Hitler. (Okay, okay, so she doesn't really want to sleep with him, but the other two choices were Cheney and Bush and she chose Hitler to sleep with.) (I think she threw Bush off the cliff and lived with Cheney.)

--Everyone wants to throw Tom Cruise off a cliff, but that's a no brainer.

Hey, in an effort to make this blog more interactive, I'll throw some threesomes out there, and we can all play.

You must sleep with one of the following people, live with one of them, and throw one of them off a cliff. What do you do? (feel free to explain your answers)

Round One:
Jake Gyllenhaal
George Clooney
Matthew McConaughey

Round Two:
Jessica Alba
Jessica Simpson
Jessica Fletcher (Angela Lansbury's character on "Murder, She Wrote")

Round Three:
Lance Armstrong
Lance Bass
a bass (as in, a fish)

Round Four:
Betty White
Rue McClanahan
Bea Arthur

Round Five:
John Kennedy
Robert Kennedy
Ted Kennedy

Round Six:
Mother Teresa
The Pope
Ghandi

UPDATE: I'm adding a few more threesomes:

Round Seven:
Bert
Ernie
Oscar the Grouch

Round Eight:
Paper
Rock
Scissors

Round Nine:
Mary Kate Olsen
Ashley Olsen
Pontius Pilate

Round Ten:
Marcia
Jan
Cindy

Round Eleven:
Freud
Jung
Sartre

Round Twelve:
an apple
an orange
a banana

Round Thirteen:
Lenny (from Laverne and Shirley)
Squiggy (from Laverne and Shirley, natch)
Urkel

Round Fourteen:
Tom Cruise
Kate Holmes
Suri Cruise-Holmes

Round Fifteen:
George Bush Sr.
Ronald Reagan
George W. Bush

New Thing 123: My first bikeride as an adult

I'm sorry if this isn't very exciting, but I'm trying to be good to the world and get in good enough shape to win either the Amazing Race or Survivor, whichever show finally decides to cast me first.

So I just went on a five mile bike ride and now I'm all sweaty and beardy. (I suppose I was beardy before the bike ride, but I like mentioning my beard for some reason.) (I was also sweaty before the bike ride because of this dang heat, but I'm even more sweaty now.)

I'm still sorta unclear on the concept of gear shifts. Like, when to use them and what number to use, or whatever.

If I was Bridget Jones, I might be like:

v. v. sweaty
Number of miles on bike: 5
Number of Coca-colas drunk: 0
Number of cigs: 0

But I'm not Bridget Jones.

I am totally obsessed with the Grateful Dead right now. I somehow managed to get through almost 29 years without having ever heard them, and I just recently decided to check them out and now I wish they were still touring (wait, ARE THEY still touring?) so I could become a Dead Head. Every time I listen to the Dead, I feel like I'm Lindsay Weir in Freaks and Geeks in that scene where she's in her room discovering how great they are and just dancing by herself.

I am so sweaty. And beardy. And I want ice cream, and I want to go bowling, and I can't focus.

UPDATE: (this is completely unrelated to anything I've said previously in this post, so technically it's not an update, but whatever, this is my blog and I'll do what I want with it)

I just discovered this blog called Ass Shot (um, mom and dad, you don't need to clink the link if you don't want to) (in fact, don't) and I think it's so funny. Basically, it's this guy who works as a cocktail waiter at some bar in New York (I'm not sure where) and his cocktail waiter's uniform is basically an apron with no pants underneath, so his ass is exposed (it reminds me of this bar I used to go to in London called Pharmacy, that looked exactly like a Pharmacy, but then they had to change their name because a little old lady went there thinking it was a pharmacy but it wasn't and she sued them for false advertising [this is a true story] and then they changed their name to Ah My Crap, which is all of the letters in Pharmacy just scrambled up, and, anyway, the dress code for the waitstaff at Pharmacy was also just aprons and nothing else, but by the time they'd changed their name to Ah My Crap they had gotten new uniforms because the waiters and waitresses were complained of being cold [this is all a true story] [singing to myself "true story"]) and this cocktail waiter guy apparently is collecting photos of people who patron his bar, and all of the people in the photos are basically just posing with his butt, and Chloe Sevigny has done it, and so has Alan Cumming, and so has my old college crush Jake Shears (except he wasn't Jake Shears back then), and Cindy Lauper refused to do it, but she was a good sport about it (she posed ass to ass with the guy) and I love photo projects like this and it makes me want to get back into an old photo project I used to do.

New Thing #122: My new bike, and things you can do for Johnny Kang Patterson

I’m freaking out.

It’s the heat.

And the fact that I saw An Inconvenient Truth.

I mean, I saw it a few weeks ago and I was like, whoa, holy shit, gotta do something.

But now this heat has hit and I’m like:
This is the beginning of End Times.

And I realize I’m prone to over-reacting,
but still:
Shit.

If we don’t do something…
If we don’t ALL do something…
we’re seriously fucking ourselves.

New Thing #122: I got a new bike today. My first bike since I was old enough to drive and therefore didn’t have to have one.

(PAM actually got the bike for me—for my birthday—which isn’t actually for another two weeks or so—but I was freaking out about the Earth and all of the driving I do and I think she wanted to stop hearing about it.)

(Thank you, PAM.)

Anyway, I’m still freaking out.

Because one of these days I’m going to adopt a whole litter of little children—well, okay, I suppose “a whole litter” is probably exaggerating. I’m not gonna go Mia Farrow on the ass of adoption, but I’m into the Angelina Jolie thing. I’ll either adopt one kid who I can spoil endlessly, or I’ll adopt 4 because I think 4 is a really great sibling number (as one of four brothers myself), or I’ll adopt nine so I can have a baseball team (I’m not even sure if nine would constitute a baseball team—maybe I’m thinking of the wrong sport—but how funny would it be if I had nine kids and they were a baseball team) (it’s funny because I hate baseball) (hate is a strong word—it’s more that I’m completely eh about the whole sport and I’ve been surrounded my whole life by people who are really huah about it) (maybe my future husband will be a baseball player) (that would be ironic) (hey—Urp, there’s an example of irony for you) (I was thinking, if I have a girl, I want to name her Johnny Kang Patterson) (is it wrong to want to name a girl Johnny?) (of course, I’ve always wanted to name a boy Oedipus because, fuck, the name really needs to be reclaimed after all of these years) (he’d go by “Oed” for short, “that’s a silent “o”) (but I have sooooooo gone off track) (the point is that one day I’m going to adopt a whole shitload of children) (or one) and I want the world to still be here for them. I don’t want them to all, like, melt to death when they’re in their formative years.

So I got a bike, and whenever I have to go someplace that’s within biking distance—instead of getting into my car like I normally would do, I’m going to bike there.

And I’m working on other Earth-saving behavior changes, and I encourage you to do the same.

1. Go see An Inconvenient Truth. Seriously.
2. And take some of the advice I’ve cribbed from An Inconvenient Truth’s official website.
3. (I’m literally just copying and pasting these suggestions from their website, so they deserve all of the credit for these ideas) (but they’re good suggestions, and most of them aren’t that hard, and if we all start changing our habits, then maybe my future kids will have air to breathe) 4. Do it for Johnny Kang Patterson:

(even if you don't do ALL of these things, you can totally do SOME of them) (come on)

And this is where I start to just copy and paste from An Inconvenient Truth's website:

REDUCE YOUR IMPACT AT HOME:

--Replace a regular incandescent light bulb with a compact fluorescent light bulb (cfl)CFLs use 60% less energy than a regular bulb. This simple switch will save about 300 pounds of carbon dioxide a year. If every family in the U.S. made the switch, we’d reduce carbon dioxide by more than 90 billion pounds! You can purchase CFLs online from the Energy Federation.

--Move your thermostat down 2° in winter and up 2° in summerAlmost half of the energy we use in our homes goes to heating and cooling. You could save about 2,000 pounds of carbon dioxide a year with this simple adjustment. The American Council for an Energy Efficient Economy has more tips for saving energy on heating and cooling.

--Clean or replace filters on your furnace and air conditioner Cleaning a dirty air filter can save 350 pounds of carbon dioxide a year.

--Install a programmable thermostatProgrammable thermostats will automatically lower the heat or air conditioning at night and raise them again in the morning. They can save you $100 a year on your energy bill.

--Choose energy efficient appliances when making new purchases Look for the Energy Star label on new appliances to choose the most efficient models. If each household in the U.S. replaced its existing appliances with the most efficient models available, we’d eliminate 175 million tons of carbon dioxide emissions every year!

--Wrap your water heater in an insulation blanket You’ll save 1,000 pounds of carbon dioxide a year with this simple action. You can save another 550 pounds per year by setting the thermostat no higher than 120 degrees Fahrenheit.

--Use less hot water It takes a lot of energy to heat water. You can use less hot water by installing a low flow showerhead (350 pounds of carbon dioxide saved per year) and washing your clothes in cold or warm water (500 pounds saved per year) instead of hot.

--Use a clothesline instead of a dryer whenever possible. You can save 700 pounds of carbon dioxide when you air dry your clothes for 6 months out of the year.

--Turn off electronic devices you’re not using. Simply turning off your television, DVD player, stereo, and computer when you’re not using them will save you thousands of pounds of carbon dioxide a year.

--Unplug electronics from the wall when you’re not using them Even when turned off, things like hairdryers, cell phone chargers and televisions use energy. In fact, the energy used to keep display clocks lit and memory chips working accounts for 5 percent of total domestic energy consumption and spews 18 million tons of carbon into the atmosphere every year!

--Only run your dishwasher when there’s a full load and use the energy-saving setting. You can save 100 pounds of carbon dioxide per year.

--Insulate and weatherize your home Properly insulating your walls and ceilings can save 25% of your home heating bill and 2,000 pounds of carbon dioxide a year. Caulking and weather-stripping can save another 1,700 pounds per year. The Consumer Federation of America has more information on how to better insulate your home.

--Be sure you’re recycling at home You can save 2,400 pounds of carbon dioxide a year by recycling half of the waste your household generates. Earth 911 can help you find recycling resources in your area.

--Buy recycled paper products It takes less 70 to 90% less energy to make recycled paper and it prevents the loss of forests worldwide.

--Plant a tree. A single tree will absorb one ton of carbon dioxide over its lifetime. Shade provided by trees can also reduce your air conditioning bill by 10 to 15%. The Arbor Day Foundation has information on planting and provides trees you can plant with membership.

--Get a home energy audit. Many utilities offer free home energy audits to find where your home is poorly insulated or energy inefficient. You can save up to 30% off your energy bill and 1,000 pounds of carbon dioxide a year. Energy Star can help you find an energy specialist.

--Switch to green power. In many areas, you can switch to energy generated by clean, renewable sources such as wind and solar. The Green Power Network is a good place to start to figure out what’s available in your area.

--Buy locally grown and produced foods The average meal in the United States travels 1,200 miles from the farm to your plate. Buying locally will save fuel and keep money in your community.

--Buy fresh foods instead of frozen. Frozen food uses 10 times more energy to produce.

--Seek out and support local farmers markets. They reduce the amount of energy required to grow and transport the food to you by one fifth. You can find a farmer’s market in your area at the USDA website.

--Buy organic foods as much as possible. Organic soils capture and store carbon dioxide at much higher levels than soils from conventional farms. If we grew all of our corn and soybeans organically, we’d remove 580 billion pounds of carbon dioxide from the atmosphere!

--Avoid heavily packaged products. You can save 1,200 pounds of carbon dioxide if you cut down your garbage by 10%.

--Eat less meat. Methane is the second most significant greenhouse gas and cows are one of the greatest methane emitters. Their grassy diet and multiple stomachs cause them to produce methane, which they exhale with every breath.

REDUCE YOUR IMPACT WHILE ON THE MOVE

Almost one third of the carbon dioxide produced in the United States comes from our cars, trucks and airplanes. Here are some simple, practical things you can do to reduce the amount of carbon dioxide you produce while on the move.

--Reduce the number of miles you drive by walking, biking, carpooling or taking mass transit wherever possible. Avoiding just 10 miles of driving every week would eliminate about 500 pounds of carbon dioxide emissions a year! Click here to find transit options in your area.

--Start a carpool with your coworkers or classmates. Sharing a ride with someone just 2 days a week will reduce your carbon dioxide emissions by 1,590 pounds a year. eRideShare.com runs a free national service connecting commuters and travelers.

--Keep your car tuned up. Regular maintenance helps improve fuel efficiency and reduces emissions. When just 1% of car owners properly maintain their cars, nearly a billion pounds of carbon dioxide are kept out of the atmosphere.

--Check your tires weekly to make sure they’re properly inflated. Proper inflation can improve gas mileage by more than 3%. Since every gallon of gasoline saved keeps 20 pounds of carbon dioxide out of the atmosphere, every increase in fuel efficiency makes a difference!

--When it is time for a new car, choose a more fuel efficient vehicleYou can save 3,000 pounds of carbon dioxide every year if your new car gets only 3 miles per gallon more than your current one. You can get up to 60 miles per gallon with a hybrid! You can find information on fuel efficiency here and here.

--Try car sharing. Need a car but don’t want to buy one? Community car sharing organizations provide access to a car and your membership fee covers gas, maintenance and insurance. Many companies – such as Flexcar -- offer low emission or hybrid cars too!

--Try telecommuting from home. Telecommuting can help you drastically reduce the number of miles you drive every week. For more information, check out the Telework Coalition.

--Fly less. Air travel produces large amounts of emissions so reducing how much you fly by even one or two trips a year can reduce your emissions significantly. You can also offset your air travel by investing in renewable energy projects.

Okay, this is Erik again. Those are all of Al Gore's suggestions. Seriously, take some of them. I said it before, and I'll say it again: do it for Johnny Kang Patterson.

Thanks.

Turtle Head?

1. It's been too hot to blog lately.
2. I only slept three hours last night.
3. I really have to poop really really badly right now, but I'm at a coffeeshop and I don't want to poop here.
4. Which means I should leave.
5. But I'm too tired to leave.
6. I did this 24 Hour Play thing last night. It actually performs tonight (I think it's sold out, unfortch), but my part is done--I wrote from 10pm until 3am this morning, took a three hour nap, then woke up to read what I'd written, then went back to the theater to turn in my ten minute play, which they're rehearsing right now. I think the play turned out okay. We'll see tonight.
7. If I don't explode from not pooping by then.
8. There's this cameraman dude documenting the entire 24 hour play process and I kind of have a crush on him, but I'm pretty sure he's straight. I haven't been able to suss it out for sure yet, but I'm pretty sure.
9. I keep forgetting I have so much hair on my face and when I see myself in the mirror, I jump back and I'm like, whoa!
10. (communicatrix--I promise I'll shave my beard off within the next twelve months, and when I do it I'll say that I did it because communicatrix told me to.)

Help me plan a Disneyland Scavenger Hunt

I need your help.

My writing partner Jessica and I are currently working on a rewrite, and when we're done with it we're going to go to Disneyland to celebrate, and we've decided to go on a photographic scavenger hunt while we're there, just because we think it sounds like a fun thing to do (well, actually, we got the idea from one of the rolls of photos that I just got developed that had been in the trunk of my car for years--it was from a Disneyland trip we took, like, three years ago, and when we saw the photos we were like, "oh my god we have to go to Disneyland," and then we were like, "and we MUST take lots of photos") and so I've made a list of photographs that we're going to try to take while we're at Disneyland, and I thought I'd print the list here, hoping that my brilliant blog readers might make some more suggestions, because I think we still need more scavenger hunt items on the list.

Basically, we're going to do the scavenger hunt together. There isn't really a competition aspect to it. We're working as a team--we're just going to try to get as many of the photos as possible, and I've ranked them from easiest to most difficult and I've assigned point totals accordingly and the points don't really mean anything (because we're not, like, competing) (except, well, I guess we're competing with ourselves, because by the end of the day we want the biggest number we can possibly get) (some of the photos are probably impossible photos, but I put them on the list because I like the challenge) (anyway)

Here's what I've come up with so far. Any suggestions would be greatly appreciated:

WORTH 50 POINTS (because these ones are super easy)
A photograph of one of us...with Mickey Mouse
...with Goofy
...with Alice
...with Winnie the Pooh
...with Jack Sparrow
...with a “ghost” in the Haunted House
...with a look of sheer terror in the Haunted House elevator (perhaps screaming)
...with T-Rex in the background
...eating food that tallies more than 1000 calories
...eating a churro
...riding Dumbo
...with one of the hippos on the Jungle Cruise
...with the Jungle Cruise tour guide
...with Walt Disney
...in a cave on Tom Sawyer’s Island, pretending to be a pirate
...in a cave on Tom Sawyer’s Island, pretending to be on Survivor
...in the Pirates boat, as we’re going down one of the drops, with arms in the air
...driving a car on Autopia, looking crazed
...inside the Tiki Room
...being eaten by the great Whale with Pinocchio
...with fireworks overhead
...sitting at an easel, pretending to draw a portrait of your hand (because in one of the photos from the aforementioned recently developed photos from our last trip to Disneyland, this is exactly what I'm doing, and it's an inexplicably odd photo, and I cannot remember anything about what sort of goofing off led to this photograph, but the photograph MUST be recreated)

WORTH 100 POINTS (slightly more difficult)
One of us on the Matterhorn, with a Yeti in the background
...on It’s A Small World, with a Swedish girl in the background
...wearing Mickey Mouse ears
...with a live animal
...wearing a conductor’s cap WHILE riding on Big Thunder Mountain
...wearing 3-D glasses

WORTH 150 POINTS (again, slightly more difficult)
...with a crying child
...giving rabbit ears to a stranger
...riding a horse on the merry-go-round BACKWARDS
...underwater (can be interpreted in a creative way)
...playing a musical instrument
...with a pregnant woman
...with a police officer (who must be in uniform)

WORTH 200 POINTS (natch)
One of us in a canoe
...with a famous actor
...drenched in water, post-Splash Mountain (must actually be drenched)
...with a live bear

WORTH 250 POINTS (...)
One of us with Captain Hook (I don't think he walks around the park as much as Mickey does)
Both of us in a teacup (both of us because Jessica hates the teacups)
One of us with BOTH Buzz Lightyear AND Sheriff Woody
...standing IN a water fountain

WORTH 500 POINTS (near impossible)
One of us pulling the Sword in the Stone WITH MERLIN
...sitting on a horse
...on a parade float
...behind the counter at the toy store with a sales representative, while holding a Pluto figurine
...with Johnny Depp
...with Lindsay Lohan (why not, I hear she goes to Disneyland)

New Thing #121: I finally developed the ginormous bag of old film I've had for, like, ever

I've decided I'm not going to liveblog Fresh Meat anymore. I kind of got tired of doing it. But when I was watching tonight's episode, the one thing that really hit home for me was Evan and his hernia. Because he goes on and on and on about how much his hernia is hurting him (and I had a hernia in 2001, so I know what he's talking about he says it hurts) (they hurt a freaking lot) but then all of a sudden they show Evan wrestling with Wes, and when I say they were wrestling I mean they were rolling all over the living room and falling over couches and while I was watching all of their frantic, crazed wrestling maneuvers, I sat with a hand over my belly (I had a belly button hernia, not a balls hernia) and remembered the pain and something seemed kinda hewey and not right because if Evan really truly does have a bad hernia, then he would NOT be able to wrestle all over the living room with Wes. So either he's playing up his hernia and it's really not that bad, or he doesn't really have one at all and it's all manufactured drama, or he does have one and he's fucked it up even worse than it was before, but I'm going to stop speculating because, like I said several sentences ago, I am retiring the whole Fresh Meat liveblogging thing (not that this could even remotely pass as a "live-blogging" of the show since I'm not even sitting in front of my television right now)

Speaking of hernias, New Thing #121: I developed the bag of disposable cameras that I've been collecting for the last six years. (I realize it doesn't sound like I'm still "speaking of hernias," but believe me, I am.) No joke, I had this bag that I've been toting around for the last six years with all of these disposable cameras in it that I've somehow collected over the years but never gotten developed, and the other day I decided to, like, finally get them developed, and I was really paranoid that none of the photos would come out because I wasn't sure if film has an experation date or not, and I've totally been keeping the bag of disposable cameras in the trunk of my car (and that can't be good) (in fact, when I took them in to be developed, I asked the woman if film had an experation date and she didn't seem to know, but she promised me the film should be fine as long as I haven't been storing it in the trunk of my car, so I told her, "hell no, are you kidding me? what kind of putz stores disposable cameras in the trunk of their car for five years?" And then we both had a laugh about that and then I left the photo development place with a heavy heart because I was fairly certain that all of the photos would be some melty undevelopable mess. But when I went back to the photo developers a few hours later, she handed me a huge stack of envelopes and suddenly I had all of these pictures that I feverishly poured through. These pictures span the last five years of my life. They're all over the map. It was so weird to look through them. A lot of them were from while I was working on Red Light, Green Light at Theatre of NOTE (some from our very first read through) and it made me really want to be in rehearsals for a new show soon (and I'm saying that here in the spirit of Saying Shit Out Loud) (because I've said it before and I'll say it again: that shit is powerful). It's just been way too long since I've been in a dark theater working on one of my plays. Let's make it happen soon.

Anyway, one of the rolls of film was from my hernia operation in 2001. Literally the entire roll was devoted to pictures before, during, and after the operation. I'm serious. I remember the weirdest part of the whole ordeal (oh my god the pain) (the pain was awful) (but the weirdest part) was when I woke up after the operation...okay, wait, actually, I didn't notice this until I got home...but while I was under, they shaved my belly so they could cut into me and sew me up inside (ouch, ouch, fucking ouch) and I knew they were going to shave my belly because they told me that was what they were going to do, but when I got home I noticed that they had also shaved my right thigh, which seemed REALLY STRANGE to me, and to this day, five years later, I still cannot figure out why they would have needed to shave my thigh, I just can't think of a logical reason, other than maybe whoever it is who shaves people while they're under aenesthesia (and seriously, what a weird job that is--to shave random people's random body parts while they're sleeping) was in a weird mood and they just decided to shave my thigh for shits and giggles, or what, but it kinda freaks me out, because I don't even want to venture to guess what else they did to me while I was under, if they went so far as to randomly shave my right thigh. (Remember that episode of Seinfeld when he wakes up at the dentist's office and the dentist and his technician are zipping up zippers?) (Um, exactly.)

Anyway, here's one of my post-hernia surgery photos. I want to tell you that my belly is so big in the photo because it was really swollen from the surgery but the truth is my belly is so big in the photo because I have a buddha belly.

I don't think it's quite that big anymore, but it's still a buddha belly. I'm buying a bicycle this week. Actually, I'm not buying it--PAM told me she'd get me one for my birthday, which is in three weeks--but I think I'm going to get it this week, because ever since I saw An Inconvenient Truth, I feel guilty every time I'm in my car, and I really want to start biking (and you should too) (but not ONLY because it's good for the environment) (though that should be a good enough reason) (but also because it's good for my belly) (and if it's good for my belly, that means that maybe I'll live long enough to appreciate this wonderful earth we live on and how great it's going to be when we stop treating it like a massive waste site and start treating it like we love it or something) (and how did I start this post by talking about how I'm not going to be live-blogging Fresh Meat and then suddenly I've posted a picture of my bandaged post-hernia buddha belly and I'm worrying about the earth turning into a giant oven that will kill us all?) (and I'm sweating as I type this because the earth is seriously turning into a giant over) (seriously) (a giant oven)

ESPN reran the entire first season of The Contender over the weekend and I Tivo'd the whole dang thing and then this evening I watched a few select fights and I was sitting there in front of my TV just bawling my eyes out. And these are boxing matches that I've seen before. I know how they're going to end. I know who's going to win. But I'm still punching my fists into the air and rooting and cheering and hollaring at the TV set and tears are streaming down my face the whole time. It's fucking good drama. The fight that really got me (if you know the show, or if you know the boxers, or if you have even a remote idea about what I'm talking about right now) was the fight between Joey and Manfredo. I wanted Manfredo to win--he's the better boxer--and he's such a great dad--and I love how he is with his wife--and I love that his dad used to be his coach and he's had to learn how to coach himself for the first time in his life since he moved out to Los Angeles--and he just has so much heart--but as I was watching the fight, I saw how much heart Joey had as well, and it was like watching him become a man, and I cannot believe that I believe in boxing, but there's so much heart in the sport and watching these fights...I was just like a puddle of goo.

I'm almost tired of my beard. It's longer than it has ever been in the history of my face. This comment was pretty much apropos of nothing, but as I was writing about my abnormal love of boxing, I suddenly became, like, hyper-aware of the hair on my face. People keep asking me if I went through an itchy period, and I've been telling them no, because I haven't (I think it's because I've been a lazy shaver for so many years and I've let it get past the itchy stage enough times in my life that my face has pretty much gotten used to the hair thing) but I'm wondering if I'm about to go through a later-stage awkward beard period, because I'm really aware of it all of a sudden. I wonder if I can count my beard as a New Thing, since it's never been this long before? Maybe I need to let it grow a few more inches before it deserves that kind of status.

This post has been all over the map. I have no idea how cohesive it is. All of a sudden I've hit a brick wall and my body is demanding that I go to sleep right now. So toodles.

Erik Makes a Banana (part 1)

My brother Josh just found several videos that he made about five years ago. Josh, who was 15 at the time, had recently started experimenting with the backwards function on his video camera and we were basically just goofing around. I think the videos are really funny.

Oh, and I'm 23 in the videos and I look COMPLETELY INSANE.

(There are two videos I want to post, but my brother's video camera just ran out of batteries and we can't charge it [don't ask] and so I can only post one video right now. I'll post the other one later.)

Giving Good Face

Do you remember that schoolyard putdown "face"? You would go up to someone and just say "face" with as much attitude as possible and it was the worst putdown imaginable. (I think it might have been a geographically-specific SoCal thing, but maybe I'm wrong, so I'm curious to know if all y'all out there who didn't grow up in SoCal had "face" on the playgrounds of the cities where you were growing up.) When you said "face" to someone, you were basically saying that they needed to get a new one. Or, there was a variation on face: "facial." It basically meant the same thing, but when you said "facial," you generally held one of your hands over your face like you were about to scratch your own face off. I guess it meant that you needed a facial and, like, maybe a mani and a pedi, too, while you're at it. Anyway, "facial" was even worse than "face" and kids can be cruel.

So one of my favorite bloggers, The Sheila Variations, had this post yesterday about great faces (which was inspired itself by another post on Dennis Cozzalio's blog about great faces) and these posts are basically just great pictures of people who they think have great faces (natch) and I love that idea, so basically I'm just stealing their thang. I really just wanted to post pictures of some of my favorite people--people who definitely don't need new faces. 'Cuz the ones they've got are already really good.

I'm not going to say who the people in the photographs below are--you probably know most of them, but you might not know all of them--because that's not what this is about. It's not about who they are, it's just about their faces. And I wouldn't consider this list my Definitive List of Best Faces (like, for instance, I wanted Michael J. Fox to be on the list, but I haven't found the photo I've been looking for), but the faces below are all pretty damn fine:

(and maybe I went a little overboard) (at first I was only going to post ten pictures) (but I kept finding great pictures that I just had to post)

New Thing #120: I ran out of gas. On Sunset Blvd. In rush hour. I'm not joking. It happened. It really happened.

Sometimes I seriously don't know how I manage to exist on this planet. Like, I don't know how I'm not dead yet. Like, how have I not accidentally died? Why am I questioning my ability to exist on this planet?

Because I ran out of gas on Sunset Blvd. in the middle of rush hour traffic today.

Seriously. (I know.) (WHO runs out of gas?) I haven't actually physically gotten my new car yet--I'm still in the rental--and I guess I'm used to cars that have that little light that tell you that it's, um, time to get gas, (okay, YES, I realize you should probably get gas BEFORE that little light comes on, but I like to get as much bang for my buck as possible, so I wait for the light to come on) but this dang motherfucking rental car doesn't have that (apparently life-saving) light and so I was just driving around this afternoon, minding my own business, completely and totally unaware that I was on empty (because my eyes are used to getting the clue) (from the light) (when it pops up in my peripheral vision) (you know?) (but seriously, how do I manage to exist on this planet?) (if I'm that dependant on that damned light) when suddenly my rental car starts to sputter and I'm like, "what the eff?" (I actually thought "what the eff" and not "what the fuck?" because sometimes "what the eff?" is just more appropriate) and then I look down at the console and I see that I'm on empty and then I'm like "what the fuck?" and I'm in, like, one of the middle freaking lanes on Sunset Blvd. right by the ArcLight when this is happening and I suddenly realize (even though this has never happened to me before) (I SWEAR) (and so it technically constitutes a New Thing) I do not have much time, the car is going down and it's going down fast, fuck, fuck, fuck, I have to get over, no one is letting me over, jesus mother fuck just let me the fuck over--

Someone lets me over. I can't remember anything about them--what kind of car they were driving, what they looked like, I've got nothing--I was too frazzled. Still, I give them the thank you hand wave (I really can't stand it when people don't give the thank you hand wave) (that's probably me only really big driving pet peeve) (I don't care if you cut me off, I don't care if you're too busy talking on your cell phone to realize that the light has changed green, and I don't even care that much if you rear-end me, but if I slow down and give you the wave to cut in front of me then you had better give me the freaking thank you hand wave) and now I'm in the far right lane but I don't want the car to die on Sunset because I know that's just gonna be way unpleasant (oh my god, I'm sorry to interrupt this sob story about me and my stupidity, but I'm sitting at a coffeeshop right now and I looked up and this guy walked into the coffeeshop who looks exactly like Snake from Degrassi and I almost had a heart attack because a Snake from Degrassi sighting might perhaps be the coolest celebrity sighting in the history of celebrity sightings, but alas, it wasn't Snake from Degrassi, it was just some dude who looks like Snake from Degrassi) (I am such a dork) (but if you're also a Degrassi fan, then you know what I mean when I say that a Snake from Degrassi sighting is a pretty big freaking deal) (not that I have a crush on Snake from Degrassi) (um, no) (not in the least) (let's get real) (he's just cool) (if Daniel Clark, aka Sean, walked into the coffeeshop, well, that would be a different story) (and he's totally 21, so I'm allowed to have a crush on him) (I totally forget what I was saying) (now I'm all Degrassi blah blah Degrassi blah blah Sean is hot blah blah) (oh right) (me being an idiot today) (but first) (speaking of idiots) (I was just thinking that I want to read Dostoyevsky's The Idiot again) (do you like how I've been going on and on about television and then I just dropped Dostoyevsky into the mix?) (smooth, right?) (but The Idiot is an AMAZING book) (anyway) so I somehow have enough gas to pull onto a side street and then my car miraculously--sput--sput--sputters to an undeniable stop in a metered parking space. But not just any metered parking space: one with a broken meter, which means that I don't have to feed it (I think) (or maybe it means you're not supposed to park there) (I'm not absolutely sure of the law regarding broken parking meters) (but I went ahead and assumed it was a valid space) (not that I really had much choice in the matter) (the car was DEWAD) (obviously I meant to type "DEAD" just now, but don't you think "DEWAD" is a much better word?) (Like, if the real word for dead was dewad, the second sentence of this post would have read "like, I don't know how I'm not dewad yet" and that's just a supremely better sentence than "like, I don't know how I'm not dead yet") and so I get out of my car and I call Jesse, who I was maybe potentially going to meet me at a coffeeshop so we could both get some work done and not drink coffee (because I don't drink coffee) (or anything with caffeine anymore) (but oh my god don't let me get started about how I'm not drinking caffeine anymore) (because it's driving me crazy) (I think that all of the drug naysayers might be pushing the wrong message when they're, like, "heroin and crystal meth are evil"--I mean, obviously) (but no one is talking about the evil that is soda pop!) and Jesse's like "I don't want to drive to the east side, I'm not meeting you for coffee," and then I'm like, "dude, I just ran out of gas," and then he's like, "call Triple A," and then I'm like "yeah, I know, but I'm not really feeling Triple A right now because they took a really long time to come last week when I locked my keys in my running car," and then Jesse's like, "call Triple A," and then I'm like, "I dunno," and then he's like, "dude," and then I'm like, "dude," and then I call Sian, who I'd just had lunch with and who was also maybe going to meet me at the coffeeshop because she had work to get done too (and she DOES drink coffee) and she's like, "I can't meet you at the coffeeshop," and then I'm like, "dude, my car just ran out of gas on Sunset Blvd." and then she's like, "oh my god," and I'm like, "I know," and she's like, "what are you going to do?" and then I'm like, "well, I don't want to call Triple A because I'm mad at them right now, so I'm walking to the gas station to buy some gas and carry it to my car in one of those red gas tub thingies," and she's like, "do you want me to come save you?" but I don't need any saving, I'm doing okay, so I tell her it's okay, and then we hang up and I walk past several really smelly houses on Cahuenga that (I swear to God) smelled exactly like Rawhide Ranch, which was this terrible summer camp that I went to when I was twelve and they pretty much made us pick up goat poop all day and it was really quite hellacious (or, maybe I'm being melodramatic) (it wasn't hellacious) (but picking up goat poop 24/7 when you're supposed to be at SUMMER CAMP isn't my idea of fun) and the gas station seemed really far away and then I started to think that maybe I should call Triple A, so I opened up my phone, and then, suddenly, (I KID YOU NOT), my phone was dewad. It was just...dewad. (The battery, natch.) So Triple A was out of the question--I was gonna have to go at this one alone.

So I got to the gas station and told the gas station attendant dude about my situation and he really couldn't have been a nicer gas station attendant dude, he totally loaned me a red gas container thing, which I filled up with gas, but he didn't have a top for the red gas container thing, so then I had to walk back to my car about TEN BLOCKS with this red gas container thing filled to the brim with gas, the whole time totally paranoid that I would be hit by a car and then accidentally doused in all of this gasoline and suddenly explode into flames (hey, my imagination gets the best of me sometimes) (or maybe I should say "my neuroses" rather than "my imagination" but whatever) and then I finally got to my car and poured the two dollars worth of gasoline into my poor little rental's gas hole and drove back to the gas station where the gas attendant dude was very happy to get his red gas container back (I don't think he really expected to ever see me again) and then I filled her up and made my way over here to this coffeeshop where I now live to tell the story of The Day I Totally Freaking Ran Out of Gas on Sunset Blvd. During Rush Hour Traffic.

Five Things (plus New Thing #119)

1. I cannot begin to express how much I am craving a soda right now.
2. Joe Chandler reminded me that I never blogged about the outcome of my Seven Days of Getting Leid experiment.
3. New Thing #119: I wore a pink lei around my neck for seven days.
4. It didn't break until the seventh day. I'm sure there's some religious symbolism in there, but I'm going to leave it alone.
5. I have so much hair on my face it's fucking ridiculous.

oh, and I know I said "Five Things," but:

6. I'm kinda over the whole spoof trailer trend (it's impossible to top Brokeback to the Future), but this is kinda funny: CLINK!

a live-bloggin anotha freakin' ep of Fresh Meat

Okay, so I didn’t blog about last week’s episode of Fresh Meat. I watched it while I was in Pismo Beach with my dad and my brothers and we had very shoddy wireless in our hotel room and I didn’t end up live-blogging it while I watched it and I kept meaning to watch it again on my Tivo but then the week just swept me away and I never got to it and I’m sorry.

Anyway, last week on Fresh Meat: because of Wes’ supreme dickosity, he got sent into Exile again and then everyone voted for his Exile Challenger to be Tanya and then Tanya had a major meltdown and sprouted devil horns and basically said shit like, “if you think I was a bitch before, you’ve never seen bitch.” And Tanya was the most maddest at Derrick because apparently they’re really good friends (but I can’t remember ever seeing them speak to each other before) (shifty MTV editors shoulda planted their friendship some more) (unless the “friendship” is all in Tanya’s head) (but I want to believe it isn’t because I actually kinda feel for Tanya and I feel bad that she’s known as the bitch) (even though she does crazy, bitchy things) (I freezeframed my Tivo so I could write this little “last week on Fresh Meat” paragraph and I inadvertently froze it on a frame of Derrick standing looking off in the distance, probably at sultry Diem off camera, and he is so freaking hot) (I want to date, like, Derrick’s gay cousin—come on, Derrick, you’ve gotta have a gay cousin, right?) (oh, but back to Tanya, here’s the thing: I feel like they’re setting Tanya up as the new villain because I feel like Wes’ run is up and he’s finally going to get kicked out in today’s Exile and then they won’t have Wes running around being the lovely asshole that he is and they need drama so they know it’s Tanya’s turn to provide the drama and even though she’s obviously crazy, she might not be so completely crazy in real life) (I’m just hoping some of it’s for the TV drama) (does anyone else out there miss Julie the Mormon? she’s always good for a good fight or two)

Oh man, I thought I was watching a recap of last week’s show, but I was actually watching the last 30 seconds of last week’s show and I love how the editors edited together that footage of Tanya walking away from Derrick in tears (“I need a break, I’m gonna go away!”) and then we see her in the confessional looking all crazy again saying that “the [she says an unintelligible word here] Tanya is going to come out” [it sounds like she might be saying “the ragged Tanya” but that doesn’t make any sense because her demeanor is all threateny, so my imagination is just cycling through all the possible evil adjectives she might have used just now] and then the camera pulls away from a shot of Tanya staring off into the Australian distance and then this guitar riff comes in and we cut to a shot of Tanya crying so hard she can barely catch her breath and then we get some more hard guitar riff as the camera pulls away from her looking at Australia again and then we get a quick shot of her biting her lip and wearing sunglasses now so we can’t see her red eyes and then one last shot of her looking at Australia and boom the episode ends and they’ve certainly set us up for some Tanya nastiness tonight! (I think she might have said “the rat in Tanya is going to come out,” though that doesn’t make all that much sense either, but it does make more sense than “the ragged Tanya”)

Now, on to tonight’s episode:

Okay, now that I’m actually watching the recap of last week’s episode, I remember that Tanya and her partner Johnnie did really well on the challenge “so you know [being sent into Exile] isn’t based on merit and that’s why I’m pissed!” and I also remember that Derrick and Diem blew me away because they were the first team to compete and they had to do this really difficult rope climbing thing and it was agonizing to watch because Diem had a really bad grip on the rope and there was really no reason she should have gotten across the rope—many other teams after them fell, boom, like that—and it totally didn’t look like she was going to make it across, but she fucking worked that rope.

Okay, now the ep is starting. Tina and Kenny are being all sexy and flirty by the pool and then we hear this sound, this buzzing sound, and we cut to Tanya who is staring at them by the pool and we realize that the sound we’re hearing is, like, a swarm of flies, oh my God, Tanya is totally the lord of the flies all of a sudden, she’s just staring at Tina like she wants to absentmindedly kill her (apparently Tina and Kenny didn’t do as well as Tanya and Johnnie did at last week’s challenge and Tanya thinks that Tina and Kenny should have been voted into Exile and maybe if they had they wouldn’t be all sexy and flirty right now, would they? Oh no they wouldn’t, dumb fucking sexy flirts) and now I’m pretty certain that that “Gatorade” cup in front of Tanya is filled with lots and lots of booze and she’s flipping off the camera and telling us that she’s had “animosity” against Tina for the last three years and then Tanya uses the word animosity about three more times and then MTV cuts to some footage from one of the Battles of the Sexes seasons of the Real World/Road Rules Challenge and we see Tanya and Tina yelling at each other and then we cut back to Tanya, now, sitting with Wes, and she says “you don’t understand how crazy I am” and then I feel justified in calling Tanya crazy and I don’t have to feel bad about it anymore because she fully acknowledges her cray crayness.

Tanya has decided that she’s going to win today’s challenge so she can get out of Exile and put Tina in Exile in her place. Of course, she’s telling this to Wes and Wes is looking at her like “you’re a woman, so there’s no way you’re going to win today’s challenge.” I mean, Wes didn’t say that, but you can SO read that on his face, his thoughts are just that transparent. And he’s a misogynistic scumbag, natch. As if to prove my point, Wes totally ignores the fact that Tanya just said she was going to win today’s challenge and he turns the conversation around to himself and says “okay, so if I win the challenge today” (even though he’s never even come close to winning a challenge) “and I put Tina into Exile against you…” and then Tanya is so drunk that she doesn’t realize that Wes has shifted focus from her and her crazy scheme to win today’s challenge and she’s like “I’d fucking love it! I want to be in Exile against Tina! I’d beat her ass!” (I just rewound to hear Tanya’s exact words and before she says what I just said she says [huh?] she says, “I’d beat and her I would love it,” very simply, but she has this totally random accent when she says it—maybe she’s always had an accent and I’ve just never really picked up on it—but I kinda find it endearing right now.

Okay, Wes was just talking about Tanya in metaphorical-speak and he makes no sense at all. Here’s what he just said:

“Tanya is a bomb. She might not have blown up right now, but trust me her wick is getting thin.” Huh?

Cut to Tanya standing by some bushes with an attitude that’s even slicker than her hair, which is suddenly SO SLICK it’s distracting and she’s all cocky because she and Wes have both agreed to vote Tina into Exile if either of them wins the challenge today (even though neither one of them has come close to winning a single challenge thus far) (and have you noticed that Tanya is always talking about how hard every challenge is? it never sounds like she’s complaining, it usually sounds more like she surprised that MTV has put together a strenuous, difficult challenge, which I always find funny because the challenges on this show are ALWAYS difficult and when I’m watching them at home on my couch I’m usually like, “that challenge would kill me.”)

Tanya just told Wes that if he beats Tina in the challenge, she will suck Wes’ toes and Wes could not look more excited. (Johanna, are you watching at home? Did you see the look on your boyfriend’s face? Are you still dating him? LEAVE HIM!)

Later that night, they get a clue about tomorrow’s challenge and little Katie’s like “hey everyone, we got a clue!” and the way she says it (combined with the fact that everyone’s already sitting in the room) it’s obvious that moments earlier the MTV producers were yelling at everyone like, “okay people! stop drinking and having sex just long enough so we can get some footage of little Katie saying that there’s a new clue!”

I want more story development for Derrick and Diem. How is their love blossoming? Instead, we get some romance between Theo and Lynette, who are lying in bed speaking Spanish together and when I say they’re speaking Spanish, they’re actually speaking Spanich, and then suddenly Theo’s wearing rabbit ears and when I say that Derrick’s wearing rabbit ears I mean he’s literally wearing rabbit ears. Lynette’s getting over a long relationship right now and she “wants Theo to respect her,” and as soon as she says that, all of the men in the house start hitting their heads like they’re monkeys and when I say they’re hitting their heads like they’re monkeys THEY’RE SERIOUSLY HITTING THEIR HEADS LIKE THEY’RE MONKEYS. Seriously, people.

We cut to a quick, sad shot of Casey (Wes’ partner) packing her bags. She hasn’t said anything yet in tonight’s episode (mostly because Wes won’t ever shut up) and she’s been in Exile three times already and you can see by the look on her face that she’s pretty sure this is it. (I have this fantasy that she and Wes will be competing in the Exile competition and they’ll be winning and just as they’re approaching the finish line, Casey will stop running and she’ll just stand there and she’ll tell Wes that she isn’t going to cross the finish line because he doesn’t deserve to win because he’s an asshole to women and she’s stronger than he is because she has the power to take this game away from him and that’s it, he’s done, she’s not crossing the line—just, like, this big Fuck You to him.)

Tanya is certain that she’s going to win today.

Oh, now Casey’s speaking! She’s not nervous because she knows that Tanya’s luggage is really heavy (remember, part of the Exile challenge involves running long distances dragging your luggage with you—so the more you packed, the more disadvantage you’re at)

Time for today’s challenge. Basically people have to blow air into these kayaks and then take the kayak somewhere and do something, but they aren’t allowed to get any limbs in the water and if they do then they have to come back to the shore and start over and there are other rules but I didn’t really understand everything TJ just said. Lots of kayak stuff.

Katie and Eric are going first against Shane and Lynette…Oh, ok, they have to collect a flag. Shane and Lynette did really well and Katie and Eric are totally floundering (mostly because Eric is lying down in the kayak and basically, in Katie’s words, “taking a nap”). Okay, after they collect the flag, they have to deflate their kayaks, which Lynette says is “the most difficult part of this challenge!” and I think she’s being a little melodramatic. Then Katie yells at Eric and it looks like this marriage is beginning to go sour (they’ve always seemed so happy together!) and Katie suggests that she and Eric are the worst team and that they deserve to go into Exile. Ouch.

Now it’s Derrick and Diem against Tina and Kenny. Derrick says their strategy is to just “go go go!” and then we see Tina and Kenny falling into the water and now I’m mad because they’re making it look like things are really close between Tinny and Derriem (I just came up with those nicknames) (just now) (am I good, or what?) but if I remember correctly, TJ said that if any limbs touch the water you have to go to the shore and then start all over again. Is Tina’s butt not a limb? Her whole body was just in the water! Make them start over! But he doesn’t and things are neck and neck and then, boom! Derrick and Diem (sorry, I meant Derriem) just deflated their raft and won their heat! Rock on.

Now it’s Coral and Evan against Wes and Casey. Wes, you’re about to get schooled. His strategy is to inflate his raft as little as possible so they can get into the water quickly and of course his strategy doesn’t work and of course his foot gets in the water and of course they tell him he’s going to have to start again and of course he just gives up because, well, wait—Wes—I thought you were going to win this one?

Now we have Tanya and Johnnie up against Darrell and Aviv and it’s Tanya’s turn to shine. She wants to win so she can put Tina in exile. But, well, in Tina’s words, “when Tanya comes into competition, she talks a lot of shit but she can’t back it up.” And, of course, she doesn’t win, and now it’s definitely going to be Tanya vs. Wes in Exile.

The last team to compete is Theo and Chanda and because it’s an odd number of teams they go it alone.

Shane and Lynette win the challenge. Shane’s kinda cute. I never realized that until just now. I only say “kinda” because he’s no Derrick.

Tanya is certain that she’s going to win today…until she finds out that she has to run this race carrying luggage that weighs as much as the luggage they brought with them…which means that Wes is carrying 56 pounds and Casey is carrying 57 pounds, while Johnnie is carrying 106 pounds (!) and Tanya is carrying…147 pounds of luggage (!!!!!!)

Holly crap!

Dammit, Wes and Casey are totally going to win—they’re already sprinting away and Tanya can barely pick up her bags. This is sad. This is awful. I really hope Casey stops before the finish line to teach Wes that lesson. Wes is at such an advantage because he’s done this so many times AND because he apparently packed NOTHING. (Who wants to bet that Tanya and Johnnie are going to forget to grab their flags during the race?)

Wes and Casey are, like, miles ahead of Tanya and Johnnie. Wes and Casey are, like, the Senseis of the challenge. Casey’s like “we don’t even read the directions on the puzzles anymore!” Tanya and Johnnie spend a lot of time at the first puzzle and they totally fuck it up. Cut to Wes and Casey, and they’re…they’re lost?

No, they aren’t lost…they’ve won it…and Casey is ecstatic and even though she hasn’t taught Wes a lesson I at least feel happy for her because I want Casey to be happy (she deserves mucho mucho happiness for being saddled with Wes) and then Wes starts talking about how he’s being nice to Casey and she’s doing better and for a second I start to think that Wes is turning into a better dude, but then he says: “I pretend to be a nice guy, I pretend to be really sensitive, but really I’m just like kaching, kaching!” and he’s completely unredeemable.

Goodbye Tanya. You’re crazy but you should have been here longer. We’ll miss your cray crayness.

Back at the house, Theo just said “I have a freaking big one.” He was talking about his Adam’s Apple, but we all know what he was really talking about.

When Wes and Casey get back to the house, everyone is freaked. They’re starting to feel like Wes and Casey are unstoppable in Exile. They definitely have a huge advantage over everyone else because they’re the only people who know what to expect. Damn them. (Not you, Casey—just Wes.) And…my Tivo just cut out but I think the show was pretty much over anyway. This show is depressing. Too much Wes, not enough Derriem lovin’.

New Things: car edition (#114-118)

New Thing #114: I just cleaned out the trunk of my car for the first time since I got the dang Toyota Camry in 1999 ("clean out trunk" has been on my To Do List since August of 2000), just in time to give the shell of my dead car to charity so that they can hopefully sell the parts or whatever they're planning on doing with it.

New Thing #115: I donated my dead Toyota Camry (goodbye Camry smell) to the American Cancer Society.

New Thing #116: I got a new (used) car: a 2000 Toyota Corolla (with 40,000 miles on it) (awesome) (totally functional) (NO FRILLS) (like, it doesn't even have a "pop the trunk" switch) (it has a tape deck for cryin' out loud) (but hello, bright side: that means the box of old mix tapes I found in my trunk might actually get some play again!).

New Thing #117: a new attitude: I will not treat my car like it is a second home, or a storage facility, or like my trunk is where things go to die long horrible thing deaths before I can finally accept that I don't want them anymore and I should have just gotten rid of them rather than shoved them into my trunk with all of the other crap I don't really need or want anymore but which I haven't allowed myself to let go of because I am a fucking pack rat (even though my pack rat nature is rewarded by things like the fact that I stowed away a box of old mix tapes in the trunk of my car for seven years and then when my car died a terrible death I got a new car that miraculously had a tape deck wherein which I can play these wonderful old mix tapes).

New Thing #118: I totally forgot to blog about this a couple of weeks ago--or, I was planning on writing a long post about all of the car maladies I've been through and I just never got around to it--and then I was writing this "car edition" post and remembered, "oh, yeah, I never fucking wrote about that thing I did with my car for the first time ever a couple of weeks ago." And what is that New Thing? I freaking locked myself out of my car WHILE THE CAR WAS STILL RUNNING. I had been listening to Regina Spektor on my ipod and I was so into the song (she was singing "Poor Little Rich Boy" and I was singing along with her and I was fucking so into it) that I got out of the car, slammed the door (and locking it as I did so), walked up to my front door (still crooning the fuck away), and then realized that I didn't have my keys. Whoops. So I walked back to the car (stilling singing) (obviously I meant to type "still singing" just now and not "stilling singing" but don't you think there's something poetic about the phrase "stilling singing"?) (like, I really want it to mean something) and then when I got back to the car, I was like "oh my god it's fucking locked" and that's when I realized "oh my god it's fucking running too." Even though Triple A promised me they would put a rush on my call (since my car was running), it took them an hour and twenty minutes to show up, which was weird because usually Triple A is much quicker (and I should know because I use them, like, ten times a year) (I really should invest in one of those hideaway key thingies) (and seeing as I've locked myself out of my car literally dozens of times, I'm kinda surprised this was the first time I did it with my car running) (it wasn't moving obviously, it was just on) (but wouldn't that have been something if it was moving?) (there was this one time I parked my car on a slight hill and got out of the car and then it started rolling down the hill because I had forgotten to put it in park and I had to run with the car and literally unlock the car while I was running with the car as it gained acceleration down the [thankfully slight] hill and then I got the door open and jumped into the moving car like I was a Duke of Hazzard and pulled on the emergency break to finally stop the damn thing)

(and then of course there was the time where I parked old Mercury Topaz on Los Feliz Blvd. This was back when my friend Tina Poppy lived on Los Feliz Blvd. I parked the Topaz outside her place, about a block west of her place actually. [remember, Los Feliz Blvd. is on an incline--that's an important thing to know for later in the story.] [this was one of the first days of September, 1997--a couple of days after Princess Diana was killed--that's also an important thing to know for later in the story.] I parked my Topaz and went into Tina's place, where she had made dinner for us before we planned on going to see that Texas Chainsaw Massacre sequel with Renee Zellweger and Matthew McConahoweveryouspellit and we were probably in her apartment for about 45 minutes or so, and then we headed out to go to the movies and we were walking up her street to where I had parked my car...but the car wasn't where I remembered parking it. That's weird, we thought. So we kept walking up the street, thinking maybe I'd parked it farther up than I remembered. But it wasn't there. And that's when we kinda became aware of the massive traffic jam. And that's when we looked down the street, down the hill, towards the fountain. And that's when we saw my beautiful shit-brown Mercury Topaz at the bottom of the hill, embedded into a parked car and completely obstructing the far eastbound lane of traffic. [I still thank god that that car didn't hit or kill anyone as it made its way across all 6 lanes of Los Feliz Blvd.] [the fact that it didn't kill anyone is seriously proof of the existence of God] [because if you haven't ever been on Los Feliz Blvd. then you should know that Los Feliz Blvd. is ALWAYS teeming with cars.] [it must have looked like a wicked game of Frogger as my car made it's way across those six lanes of what I'm sure was a sea of moving vehicles.] Anyway, we were mortified and hella scared and freaked out at the sight of my car embedded in this other car at the bottom of the hill. There were so many cars out that I couldn't even jaywalk across the street to get to my car. I had to run a block up to the crosswalk, wait for the light to change, run across the street, and then run down the hill, where the owner of the parked car I had hit was standing, her face frozen in a state of shock. "I just came out," she told me. "I'm sorry," I said. "You didn't put your car in park." "I know, I'm sorry," I told her, again. "I just came out, I haven't even called the police yet," she told me. I got into my car, turned on the ignition and moved my car to a safer parking spot down the hill, then I went back to the woman whose car I hit. And then she said what is perhaps the funniest, weirdest, saddest thing anyone has ever said to me. [Remember: this was in September of 1997, a couple of days after Princess Diana was killed.] This woman looked at me and she said, "I just found out about Princess Di...and now this." And then she burst into tears.)

New Thing #112: I fought a punching bag and the punching bag won & New Thing #113: I joined YouTube.

New Thing #112: I fought a punching bag and the punching bag won.

I’m a huge fan of boxing. I am. I’ll admit it. I love the sport. (Which is weird because most people who know me would never suspect that I would be capable of uttering the words “I love” and “sport” in the same sentence.) (I mean, my whole family is littered with Angels baseball fans, and my writing partner is a HUGE Angels fan, so I often get dragged to baseball games, and I kinda think it’s the most boring thing in the world.) (I say “kinda” because I’ll admit that I have, on occasion, been known to get caught up in the game, but it’s usually when there’s a brawl on the mound.) (I usually sit in the stands with a book. Sports just aren’t my thing.) (And boxing? I mean, fuck: boxing???) (I used to think boxing was completely barbaric.) (Back in high school, I remember my high school friend Lindsay [not to be confused with my college friend Lindsay Lindsay, who comments on my blog] would watch Ultimate Fighting and I was so freaking disgusted) (men beating up each other seemed like the most hideous thing in the world) (not that Ultimate Fighting and Boxing are the same thing at all) (they’re actually really very different) (and I’m probably confusing the issue by introducing the concept of Ultimate Fighting) (I still don’t love Ultimate Fighting) (okay, I do) (but for different reasons) (I love Ultimate Fighting because it’s kinda freaking hot) (because it’s basically just guys pawing each other) (whereas Boxing isn’t hot) (or maybe it is, but I don’t see hotness when I watch boxing) (I see the sport) (but I’m getting ahead of myself—I was saying that I used to think that boxing was completely fucking barbaric, and now I don’t think that anymore, but I haven’t even begun to answer WHY) (here’s the thing: it’s all because of Mark Burnett and that damn show The Contender) (let’s start a new paragraph so I can explain myself, okay?)
Mark Burnett came up with a reality show that allowed me to get inside the heads of several boxers and get to know their families and to see their struggles and to literally fall in love with the sport. He made me realize that boxing is really about good, honest men who just want a better life for their families and who, through blood, sweat, and tears, will do anything they possibly can to get that better life for them. (Sure, there are people in the sport who don’t fit that description, but for the most part these guys are hardcore family men.) It’s a brutal sport and it’s filled with heart. I’m being totally serious right now.

Anyway, why am I telling you all of this? It’s because last night I had cocktails with my friends Laural, Will, and Ryan—at Laural’s pad—and Laural has this punching bag (I believe it was a birthday gift from a mutual friend, Mr. Kick Ass) (who does, indeed, kick ass) and we were a little boozy, and hence, a little punchy, and we started taking turns punching the punching bag, and I was trying to explain to all of them why boxing is such a kick ass awesome sport, but I don’t think I was very eloquent about it at all, and when it was my turn to punch the damn punching bag I got a little too excited about it and I punched the crap out of the bag (at least, that’s my version of the story) (the bag might have a different opinion) (but the bag can’t fucking talk so we’ll just have to accept my story as truth) and then, after I punched the crap out of the bag for awhile, I punched the bag a little too hard and I managed to knock myself back on my ass and twist my foot and I’ve been limping all day today.

New Thing #113: I joined YouTube and figured out how to post videos and I have two videos of our boxing shenanigans and I want to just preface these videos by saying that they were taken with my phone and are therefore really bad quality and the video clips also aren’t very interesting (I’m not being modest here) (they simply aren’t very interesting) (“grainy phone footage of a punching bag” pretty much sums them up) (seriously, the quality of the videos is AWFUL) (so you don’t need to feel compelled to watch the videos) (but I’m providing them here because I like the idea of My Year of New Things being as Multimediatastic as possible.)

Video # 1: (this one is just me and the punching bag)



Video #2: (this one is Will and Ryan and Laural and the punching bag) (the punching bag is featured more prominently than they are, though)



*

Oh, and if you were playing the Whose Boobs Are These guessing game, well, these boobs:

belong to:

Uma a.k.a. Urp a.k.a. Umstra a.k.a. Urpstra a.k.a. frequent blog commenter thedarkeruma, etc.

I just want to go on record right now and say...

...that the winner of Rock Star: Supernova is going to be Dilana.

(and if she doesn't win, she was robbed)

(and the runner-up is going to be Lukas)

(and if Lukas wins instead of Dilana, I'll be okay with that)

(but I won't be okay with ANYONE else wins)

(and apparently I don't have a very good grasp on the English language)

(I mean, "but I won't be okay with ANYONE else wins"?) (what's up with that?)

(unless they throw in a twist and Suzie McNeil manages to win somehow--I'd be okay with that)

(and the group they've assembled for this season isn't nearly as talented as the group they had assembled for last season, but still: i'm already hooked)

(and i wish i could sing)

237 Reasons Why I Gave Up Soda (New Thing #109-111) Today:

237 Reasons Why I Gave Up Soda (New Thing #109) Today:

1. Because I heard a random story about some guy who gave up all carbonated beverages and lost 15 pounds like that! (snapping fingers for emphasis)
2. Because I don't drink enough water and maybe this will force me to
3. Because my dad started getting kidney stones when he was 30 or so
4. And I'm turning 29 next month
5. Which means I'm almost 30
6. Which means I'm entering potential kidney stone territory
7. Not that sodas give you kidney stones, that's not what I'm trying to say
8. Or maybe it is what I'm saying. I mean, I could google it, but whether sodas give you kidney stones or not, they certainly don't do anything to prevent you from getting kidney stones
9. Whereas drinking freaking water does prevent it
10. So I'm going to drink more water
11. And less soda
12. I wrote the title of this post before I had actually written any reasons (I just thought that 237 sounded like a nice number) and here I am on "reason #12" and I've actually only listed, like, two real reasons
13. But whatever
14. It's my list
15. When I was 12 or 15 (I can't remember which) (which is alarming, because 12 and 15 are fairly disparate ages) (but my memory ain't what it used to be) (I think I was 12) (or, frig, maybe 13) (anyway) I went to Vancouver with my Aunt Jill and a few of her friends (Jill was competing in the Toughest Cop Alive competition) (because she's rockstar like that) and Jill's friend Cincha was there (I think her real name was Cynthia, but we called her Cincha) (the "h" on my keyboard is being all funky and it doesn't want to let me type the letter "h") (like, I have to REALLY HIT THE "H" HARD if I want it to appear) (and I do want it to appear) (because I don't want to call Cincha Cinca) and Cincha had a kidney stone and it was awful, but thank god we were in Vancouver because Cincha didn't have health care at the time and they have great health care in Canada and they totally got rid of Cincha's stone, but I remember she was in awful pain
16. And my dad has had, like, 20 of them (no lie), some big ones, some not so big ones, but whatever, when you're trying to squeeze a giant piece of calcium out of your peehole, they're all big
17. My dad was telling kidney stone war stories at dinner the other night in Pismo and it was so freaking disgusting
18. Like, really disgusting
19. Like, he kept making hand gestures to prove certain points and I had to refrain from looking at him for fear of anoter disgustingly descriptive hand gesture
20. It was awful
21. And now I'm even more paranoid about kidney stones than I used to be
22. And I used to be paranoid about the tings
23. See, did you see tat? "Tings." And on tis line! "Tat" instead of "that" and "tis" instead of "this."
24. Fucking keyboard.
25. Reminds me of Stephen King's Misery. Have you read that book? I thougt the movie was great but the book was even better, and I remember that in te book the hero was missing an "n" on his keyboard (at least I think it was an "n") and King lets us read several chapters of what the hero was writing, without the "n's" kind of like I'm doing right now inadvertantly witout the "h's"
26. I'm not sure if I'm going to make it to 237 Reasons, that's a lot of reasons
27. But back to Stephen King, does everyone go through a Stephen King period?
28. I was OBSESSED with him for a few years. I read his books non-stop.
29. But then he published Gerald's Game and that was the worst book ever (it was so bad that I cast King aside and stopped reading him entirely) (even though I was freaking OBSESSED) (but the book made me physically ill)
30. And I really can't stand King's column in Entertainment Weekly
31. I forget what I gave up at te beginning of tis post.
32. Oh, right: soda.
33. I wish that giving up soda was somehow beneficial to the environment.
34. I watched about five minutes of Independance Day on TV last night and Bill Pullman, as the President, has this speech about how all of the countries in the world need to band together as a united front against the aliens, and I was like "global warming is the new aliens" because we all need to band together against global warming and freaking ride bikes more and plant trees and recycle and tings like tat, and, as Bill Pullman as the President of the United States goes on to say, (and I'm paraphrasing) "From here on out, the 4th of July won't be known as the day America became free--it will become known as the day the world became free."
35. But who cares how free we are if we're all melting from the rising heat every summer and all of the coasts in the world are disappearing as the water levels of all of the oceans rise and millions and millions of people start to lose their homes and let's start doing someting about it NOW, while we can change things, and then, from here on out, the 4th of July will become known as Eart Day (or, earth day, if I strike my keys really forcefully)
36. Holy crap, I just got really tired
37. And ungry too.
38. And tirsty.
39. I've really gotten off subject.
40. I gave up soda today to see if I could do it
41. I gave up soda today because there's nothing good about it and it's such an addiction
42. I mean, great to have such an innocuous addiction, rigt? But still: there ain't nothing good about it.
43. Who do you think is hotter: Jeff Probst or Anderson Cooper?
44. Jake Gyllenhaal or God?
45. George Bush or Dick Cheney?
46. Soda messes wit your mind. Seriously. I'm all addled rigt now because I usually have at least three sodas a day and I haven't had ANY today and I'm addled. Addled, I tell you!
47. I tagged my initials on a construction site the other night. New Thing #110, boom.
48. Here's a picture:

49. I wasn't the only one tagging. There were actually about twenty of us. I won't name names because I want to protect the innocent.
50. It was awesome.
51. Soda.
52. "It was awesome soda." That should be a phrase that means something. Kinda like muggy.
53. Hello fans of Viggo Mortensen!
54. (lots of Viggo Mortensen fans have been reading my blog lately because I went to my friend David's art show tat Viggo produced and then I blogged about it, and some of the Viggo fans found my blog and then they promised to come back occassionally and check how things are going at My Year Of New Things.
55. Y'all (the Viggo fans) are awesome soda. Not "like" awesome soda. You ARE awesome soda.
56. I'm craving chocolate rigt now. The soda desire is fading and now chocolate is calling out to me.
57. I have to go to sleep. I am about to pass out all of a sudden. Maybe I'm tired because my body is used to the caffeine from all of the soda I used to drink (as in, before today) and so now I'm going through withdrawal. (Could I possibly go through withrawal so quickly?) (because it feels awful quick)
58. But my body is SCREAMING for soda.
59. That can't be good. Soda must be a killer. A not-good killer.
60. Did everyone see Superman over the weekend?
61. I did, and I drank SO MUCH SODA during that movie.
62. Actually, that’s a total fucking lie: I think I had fruit punch.
62. Because I knew that I was planning on giving up soda any day now and I was trying to practice.
63. Not that fruit punch is good for you.
64. I mean, it’s probably not good for you AT ALL.
65. Maybe even worse than soda.
66. But back to Superman: I wrote my thoughts about the movie in an older post, but then I was like, “what if no one reads that older post?” and so I thought I’d repeat myself here.
67. Since I’m trying to reach 237, or whatever arbitrary number I’m trying to reach.
68. If anyone is even still reading this right now.
69. They don’t call me Kiki Longpost fer nothin’.
70. Okay, anyway, here’s the thing:
71. First of all, let me preface: I don’t read comic books anymore, but I am a comic book lover at heart.
72. I used to have comic book cases on the walls of my bedroom and I would rotate my favorite comics in and out of the cases.
73. One month I might have featured Batman…
74. Then the next month I might have featured Superman…
75. Then the next month Lobo, then the next month The Justice League, then the next month Grim, and so on…
76. For the most part, I was a DC boy.
77. Sometimes I would buy the X-Men, but it wasn’t because I LIKED the X-Men.
78. Au contraire.
79. It was more because, in the hierarchy of dorks, I felt like dorks who read only DC comic books were lower on the totem pole than dorks who read Marvel comic books, so when I bought Marvel comic books it was mostly to show those higher-echelon Marvel lovers that I could be cool like them.
80. I stopped believing in the Superman comic book after they killed him and brought him back to life.
81. I still believed in Superman, but I didn’t believe in the comic book anymore.
82. I mean, you can’t kill someone and then bring them back to life. You can’t do that to me. It feels cheap. Because if there’s no consequence, if Superman’s life is never REALLY in danger, if you know that if he ever dies he’s just going to be resurrected a couple of issues later, then, well, where’s the drama in that?
83. I just don’t buy it.
84. I mean, you make us go through all of that turmoil, you put us through all of that grief, and then you’re like “just kidding”?
84. So I didn’t buy it: the last Superman comic book I bought was the last issue in the “Death of a Friend” storyline (where all of the heros in the DC universe went through their mourning period).
85. Anyway, all of this is to say that I was a big Superman comic book reader when I was growing up, and I believe a man can fly, and I totally loved the Christopher Reeve movies.
86. And this one…well…I would say I was wildly mixed on it. I mean, okay, yes, for the most part I enjoyed it.
87. Brandon Routh is incredibly charming.
88. The airplane sequence at the beginning is amazing.
89. Whenever Superman saves an innocent random civilian, I got a little bit teary eyed.
90. I believe that the world needs a Superman.
91. BUT.
92. Lex Luther throwing a crystal into the ocean? 93. THAT’S supposed to be scary?
94. The thing is, I didn’t think the movie needed ANY of the Lex Luthor stuff. I was so much more engaged when Superman was in Metropolis. When he was on Krypton island with Mr. Luthor, I was sitting there like, “I should have gotten a soda instead of this damn fruit punch.”
95. And Kate Bosworth was terribly miscast.
96. Imagine if Lois Lane had been played by Parker Posey.
97. Now THAT woulda been a Lois Lane I coulda rooted for.
98. I know you’re probably thinking "but she's too old," but, um, Margot Kidder was 32 when she made the second Superman movie and 5 years have supposedly passed between the second movie and this one and Parker Posey is 38, so she's actually kinda the perfect age to play Lois Lane, whereas Kate Bosworth is 26 and I thought she was way too young
99. Especially because she looks like she's 14.
100. I felt like I was watching a little girl play dress up.
101. Did you notice, in the scene where Clark is watching Lois on TV interviewing the woman on the plane—it’s the VERY FIRST TIME we see her—she asks the woman a question and she makes “air quotes” with her fingers.
102. Lois Lane would NEVER make “air quotes” with her fingers.
103. She may be an awful speller, but she does not make air quotes with her fingers.
104. I’m sorry.
105. She just doesn’t.
106. I know that my blogfriend Michael Hartney had a problem with the fact that Superman let the thugs die on Krypton Island, but that didn’t bother me so much.
107. Lois Lane making “air quotes” with her fingers, on the other hand?
108. Bothered.
109. The crap.
110. Outta me.
111. But back to te Parker Posey thing—I know you're probably also thinking "but she's too snarky," but Lois Lane is SUPPOSED TO BE SNARKY!
112. She's a snarky reporter!
113. Until Supes inevitably melts her heart.
114. And anyone who has seen Party Girl knows that Parker Posey can do the transition from snarky to melty.
115. I'm just saying.
116. (How great is she in Waiting For Guffman?)
117. (So great.)
118. (Anyway.)
119. Despite Lex and Lois not doing it for me, and despite the fact that I wasn’t drinking soda during the movie, I still really liked about 50 percent of Superman Returns.
120. I’m drinking Gatorade rigt now.
121. Is Gatorade bad for you?
122. I mean, they say it’s good for you, but is it really only good for you if you drink it after you’ve been really physically active?
123. Like after you’ve run a marathon or won the World Cup or something?
124. But if you drink it on your couch while you’re blogging, then it’s really actually quite bad for you?
125. I’m just wondering because I don’t want to give up soda and then start drinking more Gatorade and find out that Gatorade is, in reality, even worse for me than soda.
126. My favorite soda is Code Red Mountain Dew.
127. That shit is like crack.
128. I’ll miss it.
129. I was having dinner with my dad and my brothers the other day and we were talking about The Contender and how the one boxer who had to quit last season (because he had the chicken pox) is coming back to compete again this season, and then my brother Josh was like “too bad they can’t bring back the guy who shot himself.”
130. And he was so earnest and sad, but there was something about the way he said it that I found really funny.
131. I’m totally going to hell.
132. I was drinking coke at the time.
133. I was actually on my third refill.
133. So I blame the coca-cola.
134. Drinking Coca-Cola Might Make You Find Things Your Brothers Say In True Earnestness (Like Comments They Make About Dead Boxers) Inappropriately Funny
135. That should be a warning label on coke bottles.
136. Have you seen the warning labels they put on cigarette boxes in Canada?
137. Those warning labels are so fucking rock star.
138. They say things like “this pack of cigarettes will probably kill you.”
139. And “this pack of cigarettes could make you impotent.”
140. And things like that.
141. I have a lot of friends who smoke and I hate it.
142. I do.
143. I think it’s disgusting and it makes me sad because I don’t want my friends to get lung cancer and if you smoke it’s seriously inevitable.
144. And it smells.
145. I don’t mean to get on a soapbox or anything.
146. But my biggest pet peeve (in the world) (seriously) is that smokers think they can just throw their cigarette butts on the sidewalk, or out their car windows, like the world is their ashtray.
147. I am SO debbie downer right now.
148. It’s the lack of soda, people. I’m sorry.
149. But still: stop smoking, okay?
150. If I can quit soda, you can quit smoking.
151. The 4th of July is my step-dad’s birthday.
152. He’s 85 now.
153. Happy birthday Joe.
154. I gave up soda because I want to live to see my 85th birthday.
155. I gave up soda because it's so bad for teeth, but I still drink a ton of tea and I was just wondering how safe that is.
156. Okay, #155 was a lie: I googled “I gave up soda because” and I only got ONE GOOGLE HIT and that was what I typed for #155.
157. Not that #155 isn’t a good reason to give up soda.
158. It’s a great reason.
159. I’m doing it for my teeth.
160. Is soda bad for your cholesterol?
161. Probably not.
162. But it SHOULD be!
163. Because if it WAS, then I would be doing a really good thing for my heart by giving up soda.
164. But if I give up soda and lose some weight as a result of giving up the soda, THEN I’ll be doing something good for my heart so it all works out.
165. Hi Joe Chandler.
166. I wonder if anyone is still reading this list?
167. Who do you think is hotter: Angelina Jolie or Jennifer Aniston?
168. I just realized that I think I actually have more straight male readers than gay male readers, so if I’m gonna be like “who do you think is hotter?” then I should give some equal opportunity to the ladies.
169. Or something.
170. Speaking of which, guess whose boobs are these:

(photo to be inserted later) (seriously) (I have a really great photo to post here, but it’s on a different computer) (come back later for your chance to guess)

171. What do you think would be easier: Giving up soda or Finding out the truth behind the Mystery of Jennifer Aniston’s Third Hand?
172. I just had a really great bowel movement.
173. Clean, solid.
174. I wonder if giving up soda will improve my poop!
175. I know that I should have used a question mark in #174, but my fingers really wanted to type an exclamation point because the idea was so exciting!
176. It’ll probably make me tired for a few days.
177. I gave up soda once a few years ago and I had an awful headache for three days.
178. So far I’ve been headache free this time.
179. I really want the whole “giving up soda” thing to stick.
180. Even though I have likened giving up soda to giving up crack cocaine, I would venture to guess that giving up soda is probably easier to do.
181. I’m sorry (Marie, Annie, Steve) that I haven’t blogged about this week’s Fresh Meat yet. I was out of town.
182. I’m craving cake.
183. I think I was craving cake earlier in this list—or maybe it was chocolate.
184. I’m so repetitive and predictable.
185. I just did some more googling and soda is some scary shit.
186. It’s not as scary as global warming, but the fact that soda is terrible for your body is still kinda the “inconvenient truth” of the body.
187. New Thing #111: I went to my first playgroup.
188. Playgroup is this thing where mother’s bring their kids to a big gymnasium so the kids can play with other kids in this huge open space and the mother’s can gab about motherhood together.
189. I’m not a mother.
190. But I went with one of my favorite muthas, Rebecca Gray, and her daughter Marisol.
191. Last week sometime.
192. It was in this huge ginormous gymnasium place and when we walked through the doors I felt like we had suddenly walked into this alternate child world. Seriously, once you go through those doors the children become, like, the rulers of the universe and the mothers quickly look like living, breathing diaper bags.
193. Which is as it should be.
194. I mean, when you’re two-years-old, the world really SHOULD be yours.
195. Hanging out with Rebecca and her beautiful little tyke got my daddy biological clock ticking (just a little bit)
196. I really look forward to being a dad.
197. A dad who doesn’t drink soda.
198. (do you like how I just, very smoothly, worked the soda angle back into this post?) (“a dad who doesn’t drink soda”) (brilliant!)
199. I want either one or two or four or ten children, I haven’t decided yet.
200. I kind of want a husband first, though.
201. (Anderson Cooper, call me.)
202. (I bet Anderson Cooper doesn’t drink soda.)
203. (Have you read about that woman who went to one of Anderson Cooper’s book signings wearing a shirt that said “Anderson Cooper gives me a boner”?
204. (How cool is that woman?)
205. (Seriously.)
206. (Anderson had a sense of humor about the shirt, too; he loved it.)
207. (Wouldn’t you, if you were him?)
208. (I mean, come on.)
209. (Hilarious.)
210. It would have been easier to give up soda in Pismo Beach, where it was colder.
211. I should have given the shit up while I was up there.
212. Oh well.
213. Who do you think is hotter: James Dean or Marilyn Monroe?
214. Bea Arthur or Estelle Getty?
215. I’m totally running out of steam right now.
216. But I can’t! I’m so close to the end of this list!
217. What if I drank a soda right now to help me push through?
218. How sad would that be?
219. And pathetic, it would be REALLY pathetic.
220. It’s too bad they can’t bring back the guy who shot himself on The Contender.
221. I get to take my lei off today.
222. Had you forgotten about the lei?
223. I’ve been wearing it for seven days.
224. Seven days!
225. When people asked me why I was wearing a lei for seven days and I told them it was a dare, I mostly received blank looks.
226. No one really understood.
227. I mean, SOME PEOPLE understood.
228. But a lot of people were like, (sound of crickets)
229. And then I was like, “um…”
230. The lei finally broke this morning.
231. It’s still around my neck, but it’s broken.
232. So thank god I get to take it off.
233. I hate soda.
234. Soda sucks.
235. I am so fucking over soda.
236. Done with it.
237. Done.