I think Pacey has blossomed nicely.
I don’t understand how my school (P.S. 24 in the Bronx) had the budget for this, but in first grade, we had a planetarium in the back of the classroom. It was very low-tech — a simple dome with an overhead projector, and we all sat on the floor.
The teacher (a guy. Can’t remember his name. I can only go as back far back as my third grade teacher) probably taught us astronomy lessons or something, but all I remember is him pointing out Orion and then making Orion chase us, by tilting the projector so the stars touched our heads. This made us all squeal in complete delight.
I live with a vegetarian, and he’s great and I love him and I love vegetarian food, but once in a while, I want a piece of breaded chicken. Is that so wrong?
I also love anything that comes in the shape of a patty. I am fond of food that doesn’t resemble what it once was in real life. Like fish? When they serve a whole fish? No, can’t do that. I do not want to make eye contact with my meal.
And lastly, I’m posting this image b/c it’s so gross. I think I’m consuming calories just staring at it.
I’m going to eat my words. We rented “I’m Not There” where a kabillion people play Bob Dylan, including Cate Blanchett. And she was AMAZING, spewing these crazy, random Dylanesque lines like “I’m not something that came out of the bottom of a cereal box” and “Get groovy or get out, man” with a cigarette constantly in her mouth and this weird, gangly, boyish walk. I couldn’t stay awake for the movie and I don’t think I really understood what I saw, but I loved all of the acting in it. Very convincing and understated, but Cate Blanchett redeemed herself after “Benjamin Button,” in whcih she plays a role that I think is just too easy for her. (Aside: the best part of Benjamin Button was the relationship between Brad Pitt and his African-American adopted mother. That’s the key love relationship in the picture for me, not the romantic pas de deux cr*p.)
Um, I think I’m becoming a little obsessed. It’s like my Harry Potter experience, where I got into him about seven years after everyone else did, but this family!!! Could you not cast better looking people? Do you not love how the little girl cannot sit still during any official meeting? Obama is going to end the ban of Federal funds going to groups that perform abortions? (It was announced on the Times this morning, but they took the story down quickly, so dunno.) Somebody pinch me.
I’m completely prepared to have a great President and a President I absolutely love, but this is kicking off even better than I ever imagined.
I once had a friend who worked at Chippendale’s who invited me to a show. I don’t think I understood that he was actually a Chippendale’s dancer. Up to the point my friends and I arrived, I had thought that he was performing in a play using the Chippendale’s venue.
When you go to a Chippendale’s show, they make you wait in line outside so all the bumper-to-bumper traffic coming out of the Lincoln Tunnel can gawk at you, which can make you feel weird, desperate, or maybe just plain normal (?). I mean, I would also be curious to see who is lining up to see those buff men in bow ties and tight shiny pants.
All the young gentlemen of the club greeted us as at the door when we entered, trying to make nice chitchat and you know, your eyes don’t know where to go when there is just so much darn naked flesh. Of course, one of the dancers spotted the most socially proper friend of the lot, my pal Becca, and actually physically picks her up and carries her to our table, like a groom carrying his bride over the threshhold. I feel confident in saying that she was HORRIFIED.
But truly we all were. None of us had ever gone to strip show and did not know what to expect, and oh boy, the show did not disappoint. I think the best part was that each number had a theme. Here are the one I remember:
* A simple introduction number: one guy randomly thrusting and stripping to a Bush song
* A navy theme: Set to “I Believe I Can Fly,” a line of men dressed in white from white shoes, suit, to hat like Richard Gere in “An Officer and a Gentleman.” The number is complete with coordinated salutes and stripping.
* A ninja jewel thief scenario: One man breaks into a museum and steals a precious gem, gets caught. Security guards grab him so that he has no choice but to fling around his long blond hair and…strip (?)
The last one especially gives me joy. When I remember it, I will giggle, wondering about who has the ninja thief fantasy. My Chip friend was the MC for the event, so fortunately, I did not have to see him in his undies, although I did witness a woman in her fifties throw herself — literally — at him, which was disconcerting.
In between the numbers, they brought the house lights up so that the dancers could mingle with patrons for lap dances. None of the girls at my table requested special attention. We were as quiet as church mice among the more clamorous tables. Actually one of my posse knew a dancer (ex of her friend), which led to her complimentary dance. My Chip friend, responsible for keeping the ladies riled up, called out several table numbers through his mic, but then eventually, just zoned in on ours. “Table 32! Come on, Table 32!” but then just resorted to calling out “Tina Lee! Come on, Tina Lee! You know you want a lap dance,” you know, which caused a swarm of mostly nude men to overwhelm our group.
Now I’m glad I went, because it was such a fun thing to go through, but things were never the same between me and my Chip friend.
What is UP with the hair? I couldn’t find one from the Golden Globes, where his mane looked mega-flat ironed and in his face.
You know, I love Bono. He’s an amazing person — a rock star, a humanitarian, a celebrity who’s not afraid to age. He makes beautiful music and talks about third world debt relief. I mean, what’s not to love? If I ever met him, I would cry and throw up — at the same time.
So all that love said, what the hell was he thinking when he wrote this piece, “Notes from the Chairman” for the New York Times?
Can someone read it and tell me what it’s about? All I could tell was that he talks about Frank Sinatra, he talks about a painting Frank gave him, about how the economy is not good in Ireland, how Guinness is black velvet in a glass…but it doesn’t go anywhere. It’s a little like hearing a long, drunk-dialing message. Not good. Was this a mistake?
In his last press conference as President of the United States, George Bush said that the press has frequently “misunderestimated me.”
I just double-checked, but misunderestimated is defintiely not a word. What’s wild to me is his verbal flubs are actually harder to say than you know, like normal words. Veritable tongue twisters. This end will be good.
You know, I never think about it, but I think prostitution is a very uncaring government policy. You can read this article, covering Korean women who worked as prostitutes around the time of the Korean War, which was managed by the korean government. One of the points of the pieces is before you get riled up at Japan regarding Comfort Women, why don’t you take a look at your own backyard, etc.
I know people, one Republican I know in particular, who would argue, as long as both adults are consenting, butt out. But I suppose I do support moments where the government can intervene on behalf of its people. We do have legalized prostitution in Utah or Nevada, don’t we? Don’t you find that a tad creepy? There is also some argument that some women might find that going into the sex trade empowering, and I sort of bought that till I read some stat that most of them had been sexually abused as kids. Just seems like it’s an instinct we should try to squelch.