that's going straight to the shitter, my friends. to quote jed bartlet's liberal messiah president precursor, michael douglas in an american president, i'm throwing it out and writing a law that makes sense and that law is as follows: ahe will refrain from watching all reality television except america's top model and real world/road rules: the inferno because they are awesome, yo. the model show--they're just fucking with those vain, shallow, skinny bitches and ah love it...plus tyra banks is all charitably active and whatnot. as for the inferno...well it hasn't actually premiered yet, but i watched the preview on mtv last night and nearly wet myself. trishelle and mike had a rocky split because she's a cheating whore, psycho katie has returned to stir it up and melissa vs. julie has turned into coral vs. julie and i love that big bitch coral...man, she don't take shit from anybody and she's hot too. my favorite interaction to come: julie challanges coral to wrestle "like men" and coral says: "wrestle? i don't wrestle, i fucking beat bitches up!" SWEET.
oh, i am pumped. what heavenly catharsis.
in other news, johnny depp was nominated for an academy award for his role as captain jack sparrow in pirates of the carribbean: the curse of the black pearl. tom cruise and russell crowe were not nominated for anything. cold mountain got the shaft. that little chick from whale rider is up for best actress. lost in translation could nab best film, or best actor for the parless bill murray. "a kiss at the end of the rainbow" from a mighty wind is up for best song. meireilles was nominated for directing city of god which made my heart hurt. anthony minghella is softly weeping in a low-lit room right now. hah-hah, IN YOUR FACE, GOLDEN GLOBES!!! the academy awards are so much cooler than you are and always will be. thought you could jump the gun, come out early and swinging and sway the oscar voters to your second-rate taste, didn't you. in the immortal words of wynn rankin: eat this shit, yo.
in related news, i'm taking an extended dip in the pool of anxiety waiting for those oscar noms to hit the news. january 27th will see me waking up early and tuning in to cnn and maybe trembling a little bit. i know it's a ginourmous long shot for the depp or the sean astim to get awards nods, but i'm still pulling for them. mostly considering the dearth of oscar-worthy performances this year. i mean, did you see the golden globe runners? BOLLOCKS, says i. out of all of them female actors nominated, the only ones with which i agree are scarlett johansson (and dude, i'm so pulling my support afterv realizing that she's also in "the perfect score," which i will talk about later) and diane keaton, and the men, *the men.* tom cruise in the last samurai? what? this is me giving tom cruise in the last samurai the finger: --I-- . okay, sean penn, yeah he was amazing, but he kinda sorta always is, so i feel weirdly redundant talking about it. and best films? seabiscuit? cold mountain? love actually?
i will say this: the GG nominees for support actors (of both sexes) are actually spot on. but other wise, hollywood foreign press: bite me. this also i will say: if the lord of the rings: the return of the king does not win best picture...oh man, will there be rioting. geeks everywhere will storm the streets, rip up pavement and build some barricades. all i'm saying is strap in, okay?
hmm. i ate a lot of fudge and chocolate chip cookies this morning, which may explain why this entry has been so manic weird.
then i got an email from someone i haven't spoken to in 8 years. two people quit today...just up and quit. one of the uggos form the 6th floor is crying in the kitchen.
this cannot bode well for the new year.
so, i'm sitting at my computer. and there's this something at the pit of my stomach. not quite sure what it is, so i'm thinking back to yesterday. nothing eventful, really. went to tacoma, had high tea with heather, watched the lord of the rings: the return of the king, wiped away leaky tears. came back to seattle, went to an internet cafe. made a couple phone calls. watched some tv, went to sleep. no big.
woke up this morning...didn't feel right. not sick, not nauseated, not pre-menstrual, not depressed, just...not right. as the day dragos on, it doesn't get any better, worse in fact. slightly worse. despite the array of tasty snacks, i don't really have an appetite. something's wrong and i don't know what. did i forget to do something? forget my keys, my phone? nope, nope. is there something i'm supposed to be doing right now? am i way behind on a project and i just haven't realized it? why do i feel so...weirdly sad?
oh man. i remember this now. this, yuck, this is hurt feelings! somebody hurt my feelings and now i'm sad! FUCK!!! i thought i had done away with human feelings other than irritation, lust and righteous anger. this bites ass.
how do you make hurt feelings go away?
as the risk of yet again breaking out my seth cohen inflection, last night was AWESOME. my whole "going-out" thing has been severely lacking of late, due in part to my general reticence to bar-hop in that gorgeous seattle rain, but really mostly to the deficient planning skills of my friends and acquaintances. most of the young men i know seem to be virtual shut-ins and jabu's, the bar down the street, is about as far as the atrophied muscles in their limbs can take them. sadly, i live in capitol hill while all of my freinds live in queen anne, so "the bar down the street" is still ten bucks (or a begged pick-up)away, not to mention jabu's sucks a fat one. it's the kind of bar with televisions blaring seahawk games and ESPN news and old dudes making out in the corner with their faded levi's wearing white trash girlfriends. luckily for me, one of my intrepid queen anne-living girlfriends decided to shake things up and declare friday night "ladies night," or "ladeez nite," if you'll permit me.
i, of course, was a little disappointed when they suggested we go to sky, which is the new space that opened where maui used to be, which was where polly esther's was before that. yeah, gross, i said, but i figured if i got drunk enough at the pre-funk, i wouldn't care. so i dressed up casual-sexy and fancied myself quite the dish in my stretch paper denim and cloth jeans, tastefully reconstructed indie designer top and red pointy flats and headed over to sanna's house to down some colorado bulldogs while snarking about that living with MJ re-broadcast with beth, allison, heather, mindy and kathy. too drunk to drive, we cabbed it over to sky, which was closed for some private birthday party, naturally, so we headed across the street to the EMP just in time to catch some truly hideous salsa dancing. at this point, i was forced to take matters into my own hands and insist that we escape and make a break for one of the best meat markets in town, belltown billiards, or BTB, as my work buddies insist on calling it, though i have pointed out on numerous occasions (and to no avail) that "belltown" is one word, so they should abbreviate it correctly to BB. a fratty-lookingguy there called me cameron, which i didn't get, so he explained that my body reminded him of cameron diaz? offended, i cordelia-ed "why, because i'm tall and have small breasts? please don't tell me you were looking because 'as if.'" apparently he just meant that i'm tall and thin, which always gets me because i never really consider myself thin. then i started thinking about it, and you know,everyone with whom i graduated seems to be skinnier and skinner every time i see him/her. i mean, i've lost something like 30 pounds since 2001, maybe 40 now that i think about it. and all in the boobs and the butt, seemingly. i have neither t nor a. but i haven't done anything and i don't think they other post-grads have either. is college really *that* fattening? hmm. asks the girl who used to make meals of hostess cupcakes and breadsticks.
long story short, a good time was had by all. we drank, we danced (well, *they* danced and i kept drinking), we told the bartender it was sanna's birthday and got free shots which we took like men. i fended off suitors with my patented brand of bitchiness and mentally stabbed every girl wearing that same pair of new york wash boot cut seven jeans while secretly hoping they would notice that my PDC's were much cooler and more expensive, and didn't have that silly squiggle across the butt-cheeks to boot. i bonded with the lovely sanna over our amazonian stature and propensity to be very rude to strangers, both consciously and un-. i checked myself out in every reflective surface i passed, just to confirm that my ass looked as hot as i thought it did. and it did. i made that drunken profession of sisterly love to all parties and received love in return. i even shared a cream cheese hot dog and a cab with heather, who is quite a treat and way too good for ashley j. mohr.
good fucking times, man.
now, i am hung-over and loving every goddamn minute of it.
Heather: Hee....that's so cute. I totally didn't read it. I love them all......sigh.....
Ahe: yeah. i was like, well, shiiiit, i'd vote for myself too. every year, whatever movie i was in.
Heather: Hee.... Best Actress: Ahe in "Snarkalicious: Fueling the Fire"
Circle I Limbo
Circle II Whirling in a Dark & Stormy Wind
Circle III Mud, Rain, Cold, Hail & Snow
Circle IV Rolling Weights
Osama bin Laden
Circle V Stuck in Mud, Mangled
Circle VI Buried for Eternity
the girl the french accent on the 10th floor
Circle VII Burning Sands
Circle IIX Immersed in Excrement
Parents who bring squalling brats to R-rated movies
Circle IX Frozen in Ice
in other, more important news, i am being slowly driven insane by the ever-leaking faucet in my bathroom tub. somehow, when i was gone, it because impossible to turn the cold water completely off, which i noticed, but remained unbothered by, until someone said "whoa...that's a leaky faucet? i thought someone was taking a shower in there." from that point forward, i have been unable to ignore the steady drone of wasted water and i think i actually may just snap if it's not fixed soon, which it apparently won't be. i called my manager and he had the facilities dude come in and check on it and they have to like do work in the adjacent apartment in order to fix the problem and the residents are on vacation or some such nonsense and they can't go inside unless it's an emergency which i think it bloody well is. yes. so i get to live with it until i kill because of it, i suppose. the best part was when i was talking to the facilities guy and everything he said just sounded so obscene and i could barely keep myself from bursting into hysteria... see, he had to "get into my pipes" and was having trouble getting his "tools through that tight valve."
oh, and the best part was i said, "so my pipes need cleaning?" but of course he didn't get it because he's not the immature perv i seem to be.
sadly i will not be posting my (could it be) past the international date line exotic new year's extravaganza here...i fear the day that my family stumbles across this page and reads about my rock n' roll lifestyle. everyone on my mailing list will get the full deets, so let me know if you want to hear about it all...
-vaccillated between extremes of fear and euphoria, settling eventually on euphoria
-turned the heat all the way on and curled up under three blankets while wearing yoga pants and a wool sweater and watched the lord of the rings: the two towers
-was taught how to snowboard by the super-jew
-totally ate it going down james hill, which, by the way is like a sheer fucking drop
-worshipped at the altar of the god of creamy tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches
-initiated a snowball fight with seattle u students i've never seen before and enjoyed the shared camaraderie of a snow day
-found out that blood on snow is kinda pretty and weirdly ominous
-did not, in fact, break my nose as previously thought
-painstakingly crafted a snow-monkey, complete with scarf and little monkey hat
-made snow angels and then gave them little devil horns
-called people who actually made it in to work and laughed at them
-trudged my way through capitol hill, falling down only once. twice.
-made an army of Mutant Killer Snow Goons in the park
-wrassled in snow and lost
-got hot cocoa and sat on a snow bank and drank it
-sat in friend's apartment in underwear while my clothes went through the dryer and watched pirates of the caribbean
-insisted that everyone call me "captain" for the remainder of the day
this is the best day EVER. it's like what i imagine heaven to be, but with bruises and wet jeans.