old new guestbook dland GLINT



Don't talk about anything else; We don't wanna know!

Uhg. I feel like ass. And much like the Princess and the Pea. I had a little kernel of anxiety that was just enough to keep me tossing and turning all night. Wishfully thinking I was dreaming I would try to ignore the fact that I had to ignore my conscious thoughts, but then I’d get this flash like, “And that’s how I can afford to go to Spain and Ireland before April, while also wasting all of my dough on stupid wedding crap for all the impending nuptials!” And I had just balanced my checkbook perfectly for the next 8 months! It’s amazing how much you can get done if you work straight through the night.

Actually, I think my poor sleep(lessness) was due to the inordinate amount of boob tube I watched last night. I have been out and about of late, either lurking in the local dens of iniquity or out at friends’ cribs, and have not spent a good quality night of nothing in front of the tv for a while. You see, yesterday I was scuttling along the corridors here and heard a gaggle of colleagues discussing some kind of tv show about Paris Hilton. Aha! I was brought up short. I read Gawker intermittently. I know about Paris Hilton. I am fucking. with. it. Finally, a topic over which I might bond with my work cohort and become fast friends! I pictured the heady days of us meeting up for some lunch at the caf., merry happy hours to come where we throw back Miller Lites and nibble bbq chicken wings with camaraderie only true friendships know. I got the 411 on it and so 8:30 in the p.m. found me with the old barking dogs propped up on the coffee table ready for some fun.

My thoughts on the show are the following: Paris has no ass. The small of her back segues directly into her calves. At first the show was kind of endearing but then it got ugly and crass. Women who are 22 years-old shouldn’t really get called “girls.” However, women who are 22 years-old should have a little more savoir faire going on than these two. If the Lionel Richie one is doing heroin, she should be much thinner. It got old hearing Paris promise in every scene, “I am so going to die.” Ah, the lying rich. And that is the point there, friends. This is nothing new. The vast gulf b/w the haves and have-nots is older than money itself. It’s funny to see the filthy rich in cow filth, but the humor fades quickly. Too bad it can’t be a permanent change; instant class makeover via reality TV. Presto! Don’t let all those rungs on the socio-economic ladder catch on each of your vertebrae--p.s. your back looks like you’ve had xylophone implants--on the way down.

Anyhow, so then because the tv was on, it had to stay on. The next thing that happened was that show, the OC. What this means, I am not entirely sure. Other Coast? Oppulent Capitalists? Occidental Craziness? Oh my gosh why does that young boy look just like russell Crowe? That was really weird, mind you, in a most pleasant way. Anyway, this show ate up an hour of my life that I will never, ever get back again. The best part of the OC was that during the commercials, the local news kept coming up with these great advertisements of doom regarding the winter storm barreling toward our little burg. They would play the Star Wars Imperial Death March or whatever and then Darth Vader would cut in with this voiceover: “Think last winter was bad? Just you wait.” And then he’d say something like, “Only this station is equipped to bring you accurate weather forecasts. All other weather forecasts you may hear are highly suspect and fallacious. Also, ours will be very bad and dramatic.” Like, what the fuck? Do we need to be frightened into watching the crummy weather report? But I was hooked. And I stayed tuned and heard the most disturbing news ever. The meteorologist came on and looked straight into my soul past the teleprompter and said, “We are monitoring two, not one but two, moisture impulses heading towards our region.”

Yee gads! I almost fell out of my chair. Moisture impulses! Two of them! Yes, there they were on the weather map. The meteorologist was identifying the moisture impulses just hanging back for the time being in the southeast. But they were on their way. Thank my lucky stars, I thought, that I was able to catch this newscast and become informed about this. In fact, the evening has been incredibly informative all around. And then my head began to swim, and the tv haze thickened around me. Wait. I thought I just watched something on two moisture impulses in the southeast. This newscast must be a rerun.

reflect - reinvent ....rayclaire@gmail.com... what i used to think... what i hear... what i see... where i'd like to be...

the black apple... the girl who... sarah brown... thunderpie... evany... jenny b harris... posie... claude le monde... artsy... fartsy... jeff... random person in texas... another rachel... smitten kitchen... more of me... still more of me... even more of me...and yet still more of me...more of me but not for free...

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