Wrecked

I am watching Flight 93 and literally shaking...  I'm so nerve-wrecked I don't think I'll sleep tonight.  My heart is racing. 

This is the reason my mom tells me I shouldn't watch the news.  I get way too involved where I feel the emotions of others so real and so strongly...  it's very toxic.

I think the pain of losing someone is intense no matter what, how or when.  Then I realized that quite a few of these people actually got a chance to say goodbye to their loved ones...  but what kind of torture would it be to be speaking to someone in the present knowing that it will be the last time and their death is imminent??  I can feel the desperation of trying to stop time, stop the world from turning, to avoid whatever it is that is going to happen...

Wait, now they can't find the plane after it crashed???

Jeez... I'm getting a headache... 

G

On the Supermodel and the Superdruggie

From AOL News on Kate Moss' ex Pete Doherty:

"Doherty appeared at the same court a week ago and admitted possessing heroin, crack cocaine, morphine and marijuana. He was freed on bail."

What??  What about amphetamines... or ecstacy?  Prescription drugs, even??

I could imagine being there as he gets busted and witness the boy pulling out all kinds of baggies and shit out of his pockets.  I can also imagine standing there 10 minutes later and him still pulling shit out of his pockets.

How ridiculous.  I thought people were addicted one drug at a time.  But what the heck, he wants to get there, and he wants to get there fast. 

That makes Kate Moss a good influence on him. 

All things considered, she was only doing coke...

G

The happy (and complete) doody

I just got done with a very short discussion with my son:

Him:  "Mommy, why is my doody not like the other boys or daddy?" (he means uncircumsized)

Me:  "Baby, your doody is like your daddy's... his is the same"

Him:  "No... Why isn't it like other boys?"

Me:  "Why, do you want it to be like other boys?  Because yours is like daddy's."

Him: "Yes, I want it to be like the other boys..."

Me:  "It can be done, if you want to.  But first let me show you how it's done"

 

...and that ended the conversation.

Feeling mean today...

I'm in a shit mood.  Today I feel just plain mean.  

While it may have something to do with the fact that I hit a car this morning because I was running late, but really, truly, do trash trucks have to take up the entire street?   

So to get my mean kicks/kinks worked out of me, I went to another blog:  http://www.idontlikeyouinthatway.com/ where I was able to evilly laugh my blues away at stupid people who crave way too much attention.  

As always I like to be helpful, so here are my recommendations from said blog:  

Read the bit about Jaime Foxx/Eva Longoria,

then the one on the new/canceled show The Book of Daniel ("But damn, the writers laid it on a bit thick didn't they? I'm surprised they didn't make the family dog a pre-op transsexual serial killer, or the grandmother a cannibal with lung cancer.")  Too funny.

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Warning:  If you go to the blog, do not click on the Kevin Federline-Spears video, or you'll be playing that "PopoZao" crap in your head all day long.  Consider yourself warned.
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On Jennifer Lopez possibly being pregnant:   "And if she really is having a baby, why in the hell would you want to reproduce with Marc Anthony? I may be picky, but I never thought Skeletor was all that attractive, even for a cartoon. "    

 

Ok, so now go read it.   

G

Six Degrees

(The "mood" drop down menu on the AOL Journals is definitely very limiting...)

  And now for some more "Hollywoodness"...

A few years back a friend of mine told me she thought George Clooney was hot.  I pointed out how wrong she was because for one, he liked Anna Nicole Smith, two, he seemed kind of cocky and three everyone was into him.  Too much.

Then I watched ER.  It must have been his character's rapport with children that got me and I was hooked.  Right on the wagon with everyone else.  And how I hate being like everyone else...

But one day, a guy in our racing team had made contact with someone in the Anthony Edwards' camp and the "Cure Autism Now" charity he is/was/whatever involved with.  That was my entry into the game Six Degrees of Separation.  I knew (or more like it my husband knew) someone who knew someone who was working for/with Anthony Edwards who worked with George Clooney on ER.  At a sudden 5th degree, LET THE GAMES BEGIN!!

Then this person in the team actually met Anthony Edwards.  Wow.  I was now at a 4th degree.  Suddenly, I found out I already knew someone who was friends with Mr. Edwards and all too soon I was on the 3rd degree.

Even sooner than that I attended a party and Anthony Edwards was there.  When my turn came to meet him and move up to the 2nd degree, I made an ass of myself and confessed to him how badly I felt by being plagued by some very vivid dreams about GC, as if I was betraying my husband.  Then my fast moving game came to a halt:  George and "Tony" were not exactly the best of friends at the time (I figured this out right after the "George Clooney is an asshole" comment Mr. Edwards made)...  Bugger. 

Did that mean I had to go back a degree? 

 Damnit.  Back to 3rd and no real leads... 

Then we moved to L.A.  My friend Robin (who used to live in Indy) heard me talk about my obsession and told me how she sees GC on occasion, as he frequents the restaurant she works at.  Slowly moving back up to second, I again started to feel back in the game.  "Someday I am to meetGeorge Clooney."

Months passed and like with everything else, out of sight (no pun intended?) out of mind.  I would even see him on TV and really not think much of him anymore, as it seemed I was moving onto something else...  not sure (cough) what, but (cough) something (co-Julia Roberts-ugh ) un-Clooney.  And I was back to 3rd, really...

Enter my daughter to the rescue.  She started attending a French school with a friend and I entered into more Hollywoodness.  A little boy from her class whose father is a fairly well-known TV actor has a crush on her.  And then, lo and behold, she befriended a little girl whose parents are very good friends with...

GEORGE fucking CLOONEY.

Really good friends.  As in go-over-to-his-house-to-watch-the-Superbowl good friends. So I pickup my game piece and happily move two degrees.

I AM NOW OFFICIALLY ON THE FIRST DEGREE.

And back on the game, mostly because I now believe that George is actually trying to meet me, how else could we explain this??

Goodnight. 

G

 

PS:  For those who are fans of Tobias Funke, I found the ultimate website:  http://www.never-nude.com/

It was bound to happen...

So I'm living proof that you can't live in L.A. and not get sucked into the whole celebrity/hollywood/movie thing...

Since I got an iPod Video for Christmas, I decided to download movies into it so I can get caught up with everything I missed since having children, therefore joining the legions of people living here whose speech is peppered with references to movies past.  I will never be completely "in" as there are also references to many TV shows that I have no idea about, but such is life...

Regardless of my past ignorance, there are current shows I MUST see.  "Arrested Development" I can't live without.  "Scrubs" is a couple favorite, followed by (not in the same league) "Everybody Hates Chris" and "My Name Is Earl". 

Then there are the ones I watch just so I have something to criticize.

Project Runway comes to mind really fast.  And now for my own bit of Hollywoodness I think I found Angelina Jolie's real brother right there on Bravo.  Everytime I watch this show this guy reminds me so much of her...  Which might explain why she safely made out with another guy a few years ago, claiming it was her brother.  But who really cares...  Oh no, one more thing:  I was talking to someone about why I'm not crazy about the new Ms. Pitt and this other person was defending her.  I decided to listen when she said "Angelina Jolie had a really hard childhood".  Waiting to hear some sad story that would make me re-think my probably ill-perception of her, I was attentive.  Here is what I heard:  "Oh, she had a really bad childhood.  I mean, her father was off accepting awards for his movies, while she lived in some... some shit-hole apartment in..."

At that point I was expecting something truly bad, such as "drug-infested building" or "a dilapidated shanty town" or even a brothel...  but no. 

"...some shit-hole apartment in BEVERLY HILLS"

Involuntarily, I spat out "are there shit-holes in Beverly Hills???" 

Hardly.

So while my hat's off to Ms. soon-to-be-Pitt for adopting those 2 children, I still hope that their lives will be as blessed as possible, which doesn't always come in a pretty package. 

And that they'll understand that "slumming" and "Beverly Hills" never belong in the same sentence.

Thank you to Wendy in California for getting me off my writing ass...