Muppet Soul

You're not going to believe this....

2011-07-18T22:22:00.000-07:00

Greetings, foxy bitches!

I have been gone.. Forever.

You see, I was abducted. Abducted and forced to live in a tent in someone's backyard. Or maybe not someone, maybe it was aliens. I was abducted and kept in an alien tent city. I was abducted and kept in an alien tent city where I was not allowed any modern electronic devices. Only 8 tracks and a Victrola. I tried to reach you through my typewriter but to no avail.

So I am back. I am sure you were beside yourself with worry ( Oh Rambler, how I have missed you as well) but I would not have seen your doubtless candle light vigils, that one disastrous seance when you had given up hope, nor even your endless supply of missing persons posters, for I was in space.

I would love to put this traumatic, traumatic extraterrestrial experience behind me and begin to write again, anew. If there's anyone still out there.....

Muppet Cooks a Casserole

2010-02-09T15:53:00.001-08:00

Hello, bloggy friends.

So, last blog entry I told you about my beginning-cooking-adventures, and how I occasionally wanted to share them here. In short, I am naturally a terrible cook. A terrible cook with the taste buds of an infant. A finicky eating, terrible cook. But the good news is, while I am not one of those people who can just pick up some ingredients, know what will taste good together and in a few minutes whip up something delightful ( without cuts on their fingers, tears in their eyes, and nausea in the stomachs of their unfortunate victims) you can always LEARN. And ever since I've moved into my house, and for the first time I have my own (lifesaving) dishwasher I've been pushing myself to get much, much better at this.

So basically, since I've been trying a few new recipes every week and buying weird things at the grocery store, I'm going to occasionally share a recipe in here that I tried.

Note to chefs: I am a progressing beginner. If you are kitchen stupid, you can learn with me. If you are kitchen smart, forgive me - what will be revelations to me are probably 'no duh's' to you. I'm getting there, damnit.

So now, I give you the first Muppet-blog recipe -

One Step Ham Casserole
From "Better Homes and Gardens Special Interest Publications: Ultimate Casseroles" (aka one of those books you see in the impulse buy section at the grocery store, and that I, with my new casserole obsession, impulsively bought. Couldn't find a link to buy it - just to the BH&G site, but maybe you'll have better luck, or see it in your impulse section).

And I can't emphasize how much I love casseroles - you throw a whole mess of ingredients into one dish ( one dish!) and it comes out a full meal. I've made a few things from the book so far - all good - but this, I assure you my fellow bad-chefs, was pretty damn easy.

So, the recipe calls for:

**1 1/2 cups milk
**1 10.75 oz can condensed cream of celery soup
**2 cups diced cooked ham
**1 cup dried elbow macaroni
**1 4 oz can sliced mushrooms, drained
**2 tablespoons diced pimiento
**1 tablespoon dried minced onion or 1/2 cup chopped onion
**1/2 cup shredded American cheese

So with their version, per serving (it serves 4, according to the book) it's 341 calories, 12 g fat, 33 g carbs, 26 g protein, 2 g fiber and too much sodium.

Now, I should say for future reference, I have yet to make something exactly how a book asked me to. So my version is switched around a little bit -

Muppet's Version:
**1 1/2 cups Skim Milk
**1 10.75 can of cream of celery soup (reduced sodium)
**2 cups diced ham
**1+ cups elbow macaroni
**1/2 cup chopped onion
**3/4 cup 2% shredded mild cheddar cheese

Shopping notes:

A). I skimped a little on the fat with the skim milk, and if you just get a package of pre-shredded cheese it's usually cheaper, tastes the same if you're making something like this, and they sell cheese using 2% milk. Plus the soups usually have reduced-sodium versions, and some ham packages have reduced-fat.

B). I was convinced when I read 10.75 oz that it was inevitable that I would have a 10 oz can in one hand, a 12 oz can in the other, and spend a half of an hour trying to convince a Ralph's employee that 10.75 is what the recipe book said - alas, it was a standard. I was a little weirded out by the idea of cream-of-celery soup since I'm not that big on celery, but really you can't taste it - it just makes it gooey instead of dry.

C). I had never bought ham in my adult life - and who knew there were so many ham-options. At my grocery store, there's an entire freezer dedicated just to different kinds of ham. I ended up getting a package of ham slices - much thicker than deli ham, G-d knows what you're actually supposed to use that for, but it worked out.

D). So far I've found that if something calls for dried vegetables or herbs, it's always better to just get the fresh version of it. If it's a strange herb you don't really use, then you're in a bit of a conundrum - fresh herbs are more expensive ( not true with vegetables) so do you shell out for the one time use of a fresh version, or get the cheaper bottle of a dried-something you may never use again? To each his or her own.

E). I went a little crazy with the cheese and pasta, and put in an extra handful.

F). I skipped on the mushrooms and pimientos, because... well, eww. So I don't know what it tastes like with them but it tasted pretty darn good without. If you end up trying it with the mushrooms and/or pimientos let me know how it tasted.....

Super-Easy Instructions:

1). Take an ungreased 2 quart casserole dish, dump in soup. Do not be discouraged by gross-texture of celery soup. Slowly stir in milk until it's as creamy looking as possible.

2). Stir in ham, macaroni, onion ( and mushrooms & pimientos if you like that sort of thing).

3). Cover casserole dish with tin foil, bake about 40 minutes on 375 or until macaroni looks tender ( in my oven, 40 minutes would've been exactly right.. Had I not realized 10 minutes in that I forgot to cover it. Lesson from husband, covering makes a big difference).

4). Take casserole dish out, remove cover ( which you've hopefully remembered), sprinkle cheese on top. And might I suggest, if you love cheese as I do, to take careful notice that the corners are all nice and covered so that it gets corner-crunchy - a little toasted on top, and gooey on the underside. (slober).

5). Put it back in the oven, this time purposely without the cover, and let it cook for 10 more minutes or until the cheese gets nice and melted.

6). EAT IT.

It's super-easy, I'm telling you. The hardest part is chopping onion and ham ( which I ended up just hand-shredding since my chopper didn't take to it) and the rest takes 2 minutes to prepare.

The thing I liked about it other than the fact that it's good - nothing too crazy or expensive from the grocery store, it takes a few minutes to prepare, and when you're done, you have your protein, your carbs, a little bit of your vegetables. In other words, it's diabetic friendly - you just serve it with a salad-in-a-bag, and you got your bases covered.

Let me know if anyone tries it! The experimenting continues....

Muppet: Chef Extraordinaire

2010-02-04T15:48:00.000-08:00

Bork bork, children of the interwebs.

I know this isn't my usual chitter chatter, but as part of my previously mentioned things-to-change this year, I am experimenting with ::gasp:: cooking.

(The moose looks appropriately frightened).

I have always been notoriously bad at cooking. Notoriously.

In High School, I had to take a cooking class as part of required fluff. In the first week I made a baguette that was so rock hard, it spent the rest of the day being passed from person to person in the hallway, everyone wanting to be the one who could somehow, in some way, violently destroy it - and yet, it could not be destroyed. It was... unholy. The teacher eventually insisted that in exchange for not cooking, and just helping clean up, she would give me an A.

"Friends" is one of my favorite all-time shows, the receiver of much of my geek love. There was a joke on a Thanksgiving episode - Rachel is going to cook dessert, they're all discussing that cooking is maybe not her thing. So she says "what's so hard? You just read the recipe.. If it says boil two cups of salt, you just boil two cups of salt". Big laugh, and the opening credits. I NEVER got that joke. Heard it a million times, took me years before I realized why it was funny.

Notoriously bad at cooking.

Even though I am thoroughly against being an old school 50's wife with the pearls, vacuum cleaner and meatloaf warming in the oven, having someone to cook for did put a bit of a damper in the promise to my high school cooking teacher to never-ever-cook. Thankfully, he does enjoy cooking - but he works very hard, doesn't get home until at least 8 PM, I'm home all day being a tortured artist, and I can mass-produce guilt like nobody's business.

And so, after much trying, the acquiring of a house ( and for the first time in my adult, on-my-own life, a dishwasher) and a little thinking outside of the box, I'm actually kind of digging on cooking.

Plus, with new house expenses eating out 3 times a week is no longer practical, and seeing as I want to be in fighting-shape for pregnancy, eating homemade is just the way to go.

So, my dears, I am trying a lot of recipes. I've tried more recipes in the past 2 months than I had prior in my whole collected cooking life. So occasionally, I'm going to post the ones I try in here and tell you if they were gross, disastrous, wonderful, cheap, impractical, etc. etc. etc.

A few things you should know about the few-cooking opinions I have formed:

1). I'm somewhat of a picky eater (insert husband's indignant fist shake at that understatement). Some things gross me out, so I leave them out of recipes.

2). I really like finding recipes where there are very few ingredients/they're low maintenance. Definitely not everything I'm trying fits into that, but a lot of them do.

3). When there are more than 4 or 5 not-in-my-kitchen ingredients, I like recipes where the items you buy will be seen and eaten again. So if a recipe says "Cow hoof", for reasons 1 and 3 I move on. If it says "Greek Seasoning" ( which one of the latest ones did) and that's one of two new-ingredients, tops, I'll try it (which I did - and yum).

4). The good news is I live with a diabetic - well not good news, for good news for you-who-is-reading. It means pretty much every meal in my house has to have meat (or at least equivalent protein), starchy carbs ( rice/pasta/noodles, whatever) and lots of vegetables, plus not a shit ton of sugar, obviously, and we skim on fat and stuff where we can. So everything is pretty much diabetes-friendly, which means everybody-friendly.

So basically, for those of you not interested in cooking at all, I won't be offended if you skip my little cooking entries. For those of you who are super-chefs - share with me! And for those of you who are trying to or flirting with the idea of getting into cooking, are finicky eaters, or just low-maintenance cooks - me too, me too!

So, next blog entry, I will be starting my great big recipe-shares with what I did last night -
lately I've been having a love affair with casseroles. They're very appealing to me. Put a bunch of shit in one pan, bake it, and voila! A meal. Plus, the idea of putting a bunch of random individual items together and it coming out as one, entirely new thing is what makes cooking appealing to me in the first place - so casseroles really make me feel like some mad scientist.

Anyhoo - I had never had a ham casserole (pause for gasping), and this book said it had an easy one. And it was, it was!

Hold for original recipe and the Muppetized version.

A Lesson in Assholery

2010-01-31T17:23:00.000-08:00

Happy Sunday, my little fudge topped treats.

I'm not sure if you remember or not - so bare with me if I'm repeating myself - but I am a big believer in kindness, manners. As blunt as I am, as gross as I can be, as far away from ladyville I might reside, I 100% believe in manners, kindness, putting a little extra pixie dust into every day interactions and not straying from that unless someone really, really deserves it.

That's the way I was raised, and I thank G-d for it - because kindness, manners and common courtesy are just about the only things that when you are good at them, you can most definitely, guilt free, get away with feeling above the people who are not.

If you're kind of good at it, but maybe drift into the category of self-involved, self-serving or just selfish every once in awhile ( and of course everybody is those things every once in awhile, but I'm strictly talking to the people that know it's their bad habit, and know enough to want to change it) it takes about a day of practicing to see how much something tiny can change your day.

For example:

I went to the grocery store a few weeks ago, and a girl came up to me and said "oh my G-d, that head band is so cute.. I saw you in another aisle and I thought 'where did she get that? it's so cute!'". Tiny action, didn't take her much to do it, was just about a headband that I had thrown on, but it solidly put me in a good mood for two hours. On the way out of the store, I emptied my cart into my trunk, saw that a lady two cars further down from me had just finished doing the same, and since she was a little older, I went a little further than the norm and asked her if she wanted me to take her cart back with mine. I came home, and off the high got more shit done much faster than usual.

A teeny tiny action, a snowflake, that if paid forward turns into a snowball. It might not seem like much, but I swear to G-d, it's the easiest, cheapest and most consistent way to get yourself out of and keep yourself out of a funk, out of a lack-of-motivation, out of being one of the sleepwalking.

On the other hand, it is much, much easier to point out the ones who have chosen to go the opposite route. The "I have to make myself happy in this world" and the "I am the only star in the movie of my life" people. The people who have had a bad day. Or more than likely, it seems, the people who have stupidly thought of kindness as a weakness, a necessity of the poor or powerless.

These are angry, poisoned and poisonous people - and a five second interaction with them will slow your day down to a screeching halt. They are the people who have taken whatever tiny snowflake of kindness, smooshed it in their hands, eaten it, and then shat blood.

Today, I went to Coffee Bean (big surprise). I walked in, and there was a man ( I almost typed gentleman) in his 40s (oh the shame) standing about a foot in front of the cash register, with his mouth agape, coffee cup already in his hand. He was not speaking to the girl behind the counter, but appeared to be contemplating something. I'm sure something very deep.

The girl, who knows me - looked at the man, mouth still agape, then looked at me. She said something, I didn't hear her because of all the coffee bells and whistles. I leaned in, said "I'm sorry?" and then realized that of course, she knew me, so she was asking if I was having my usual so that the OTHER GIRL could start my drink for me since it takes awhile. (You see, I get a blended drink - when I walked in, there was the girl taking the coffee orders and money, the girl standing in front of the blender for blender drinks, and the girl in front of all the bells and whistles I don't understand for the more complicated hot drinks... I am not that smart, yet I have decoded their elaborate system, somehow).

Just as I'm realizing that she's asking if I should get my usual started, mouth-breather springs to life.

"EXCUSE ME!" he yells at her. "Are you serving ME or are you serving HER?"

His face has contorted into an unbelievable "Ahhh, the retchid serving class" sneer.

She smiles, because it's a pretty obvious misunderstanding she's about to explain, and because, I'm sure, what the fuck else can she do.

"No, I'm definitely serving you," she says,"I just was asking her so that we could get star-"

"Well because that isn't obvious to me," he snarls, face contorting and already pretty fucking proud of himself, "and let me give you a TIP, honey... Generally speaking, the way a line works, you help the person who is first, and THEN you move on to the person that is second."

Then he looks at me, like he's going to get some help. I bug my already buggy eyes at him in my best, considering how shocked I am, "are you fucking kidding me?" look.

"Now I have my cup, I have my lid, and I want a G-ddamn refill."

She says okay, takes the cup, and I am standing there like I did the time the homeless guy came up to me and told me he wanted to assassinate someone named Mark who worked for the governor. He's crazy, I'm going to stare at him as such, but I'm going to let him go because there's no arguing with loony-bin crazy. She hands him back his cup 10 seconds later ( why he stood there, mouth agape for so long for a refill, is beyond me.)

"I'm sorry, sir" she says, smiling and shaking a little.

"Well, that's alright and fine to say. But I just have to teach you a lesson about customer service, because the customer service here fucking SUCKS!"

And with that, he turned on his heel and huffed and puffed his way out of the store.

When I got to her, she was still smiling and shaking a little bit. I did my best - when the manager curiously asked what happened, I told her the guy was an asshole, I repeated to the girl how much I hated people like that, and we briefly reviewed how obvious it should've been that she was just asking me to pass it along to someone to get started, because she knew.

It made me so mad - I drove home kicking myself for not trying to explain to him that she was asking because she knew me, and wanted to pass it along to someone who would actually do the serving, but I was not paying first or getting my drink first by any means. I was also irritated by being reminded that I live in a city where people think how-fancy-you-are should be in direct proportion to how-much-you-treat-people-like-shit. (Which ones are more infuriating? The ones get fancy then bring on the shit, or the ones that think the shit-part will hurry along the fancy-part?)

I also put together in my head an epic string of curse words and insults, some sarcasm ( "I'm sorry sir, it's just, you know, some of us serving-types just have such THICK SKULLS, thank G-d for people like you")... I fucking when what to say comes to me too late, which it hardly ever does which makes it more infuriating, but I comforted myself in knowing that that couldn't have been about her, and there would probably be nothing under the sun that would've stopped him from freaking out about something.

But, again - five second interaction that completely alters my mood, it's just the other way. I've spent a lot of time thinking about this and trying to learn how to control letting assholes like that really poison me, but I'm confident that if I didn't work at it and keep it in my consciousness, I would've gone home cutting people off, not letting the person trying to get into my lane in, and maybe even, if I had let it build on the drive home, picking a fight with my husband. I think a lot of times it's the same as getting a compliment on your headband and therefor helping an old lady bring her cart back, only the opposite, poisonous, negative way.

I made myself feel better, by thinking about that guy growing up in 24 karat gold diapers, driving around a world-killing hummer and not realizing what a moron he is... so I brought myself back to neutral.

Tonight I went on a walk with my husband, and a kid came up and told us what a cute dog we had. Then a lady walking her dog stopped to say hello like she knew us, and spent a good minute giving a funny monologue on the woes of having a barking dog. All has been restored in my public-mood.

The point is, I think everybody to some degree is some sort of weird mirrored mood wring. We can go from blue to black and back again in an instant if we sense it in someone else.

Second point - be nice people, because when you're not, and you're feeling proud about that fact, empowered even, the rest of us just think you're fucking STUPID.

Grossness

2010-01-28T18:30:00.000-08:00

Helloooo my little bloggers and beasties.

Why does everyone know what to do with lemons except for me? I'm digging Sassy's idea of making some sort of luxurious pamper item.. Much like in Baby Boom, perhaps I am a city girl who has inherited a fruit tree and will discover I am a closeted farming business woman. Who learns a valuable lesson about family in the end.

I'm going to look into this and see if it's within a clutz's abilities, or if I am more likely to accidentally burn all my body hair off. ( Although this is Los Angeles, so I would make a fortune if I could manage that with lemons).

Much, much more uber important catching up/reading to do... I have but scratched the most superficial of surfaces...

Today I was supposed to write 5,000 words. I did not, which means tomorrow I'll have to write 5,000 plus what I lacked today. I'm strict.

I did, however, spend much of the day curled in a ball with cramps.

I am strict, and also gross.

Actually, many gross things going on in my brain:

1). A couple of weeks ago I went into my Doctor's office and said "Okay, come summer or fall I'm going to ask you to knock me up. Not you personally, but you know, assist". ( Sometimes I open my mouth without thinking. A lot of times I open my mouth without thinking).

He sent me home on some prenatal vitamins (they've got a little kick to them, I tell you) and some drug that's supposed to help me ovulate.

I also learned, with a trip to my GP (sinus infection, but thought I'd ask some questions while I had her attention) all about "basal temperatures" ( not the temperature of seasoning, as originally thought) and the gross-out-phrase to end-all-gross-out-phrases, cervical mucus.

If you haven't guessed by now, if you have so much as a hint of a penis you might want to entirely skip this number - just ask my husband who still has a horrified expression on his face DAYS after I used that phrase the first time.

I had no idea what that was, but what a scary pairing of words.

Much like "Lord Voldemort", I vow to use this phrase as much as possible until the scariness becomes weakened.

2). A slight break from my cramps (sorry boys, I lied, maybe just read tomorrow) so I went to run a couple of errands. On my way back home, I am very mellow, listening to Pete Yorn, and innocently turning on my very residential street which is very close to an elementary school. Two seconds after I turn, some middle aged Los Angelian nightmare starts riding my ass in her enormous SUV, and when I stop to turn in my driveway, I see her in my rearview mirror making wild hand gestures and facial expressions.

In an instant, I have gone from mellow to waving my hands around wildly, making a dum-dum face and yelling "CUNT!" out of my window. Very out of character - and I friggin detest road rage which is why I always try to control myself ( if I'm already in my driveway, does it count? Or is it driveway rage?). Another disgusting word, true, but my point is I hate how cunt can be contagious - some horribly bejeweled SUV driving psychopath can get me to act equally as ridiculous within five seconds of contact. I blame my cramps.

So I'm still here, paying my penance and getting to blogs whilst clutching my stomach. So many things to talk about, from how-I-got-into-this-house to why I would like you to all write down somewhere that in 2010, Muppet said that the current bachelor would indeed be revealed someday as a sociopathic serial killer. Take note.

Lemons

2010-01-27T17:43:00.000-08:00

Helllooooo!

Lisa makes an excellent point - as penance, I'm going to write a blog entry every day for a week.

SO. Tomorrow is catching-up-on-blogs day. Well, to make it a reasonable goal, let's say catching-up-on-the-last-few-weeks-and-looking-further-back-if-I'm-still-confused day. I would've done this today, except I had to go grocery shopping (super-fun) and my Mom came up to teach me how to SEW.

SEW.

That's right kids, I have joined a Fundamentalist Mormon cult.

Or not.

Call it trying something new, try it getting in touch with my inner-housewife, call it way too many episodes of Project Runway - but in fall I got it stuck in my head that I needed to learn how to make clothes. And for my birthday, my Mom remembered. Mom's always remember.

So I was delighted when she gave me a sewing machine for my birthday... So delighted that in the worst week of storms I have ever seen in California, I found my way to a little-old-lady fabric store ( it was the closest one) and bought a pattern for PJ's and some fabric ( FYI - fabric is expensive! I've made nothing yet, but I'm hoping that this is logical and that making yourself PJ's is still cheaper than buying them).

So after a little pixie dust, I managed to convince my husband - Mr. can-figure-out-how-to-put-together-or-take-apart-anything - to help me set up the thing, and after an hour of staring at the directions, staring at the machine, then staring at the directions again without making any progress, I called in the big guns.

So today, I sewed my first.. thing. Maybe it's a teeny tiny pillow case, or a teeny tiny hat for a rectangular-headed baby, but I suspect it's a weopriunjdsgoi. A beautiful one, made from a scrap of cloth my Grandma sent over, and sewn together 17 times with black thread.

Not quite couture, but one step closer.

SO, (sew), I will be doing my catch up reading tomorrow, writing some further explanations for my current goals ( obsessions), and celebrating my fashion victory tonight.

Before I bid you adieu -

This is my lemon tree:

Lemon tree, bloggers. Bloggers, lemon tree.

This picture was taken back in November I think... Now, there are probably three times as many lemons (and believe me, I've given them away and used a few) and I think they're probably a few weeks away from all dropping down, depressed, unused, unenjoyed.

So does anyone have any fabulous ideas for what to do with a metric ton of lemons?

Number Eight

2010-01-26T17:18:00.000-08:00

Ahem.

Hello?

Anyone still there?

It is I, she of a Muppet-like soul.

If I dare believe that any of my old bloggy-friends is still out there, aware of my existence... My guess would be that the main sentiment would be "where the hell have you been?!"

Oh, kids. Life has thrown me a few curve balls - all pretty wonderful ones, but nonetheless distracting...

As we speak, I am sitting in a house. A house that I own. I am sitting in my own office in my own house (this is friggin fantastic, but also takes something away from the illusion that I am still a kid).

It is a horribly chaotic office, and one of the few rooms we haven't made over yet, and haven't gotten around to going through and organizing.. The carpet is mauve, there is (gasp) wood paneling on half of the walls, and frankly I suspect it's haunted. But I am writing to you on my very own blue desk, on my very own wheezing laptop, looking out of my very own window. It's unorganized and new and there are still ( double gasp) boxes to be unpacked despite living here since November, but it's mine. Well, ours. But, you know, mine.

I just turned 28.. when... a week ago Sunday.

I know that every time New Years rolls around, or someone has a birthday, they make promises to themselves about the upcoming year, and it usually is absolute crap that lives in the mind for less than two weeks before becoming completely irrelevant.

As a matter of fact, last year, on my birthday ( which happens to be near New Years -a double whammy) I finally said to myself "Okay... I'd like a house, if that's possible. Other than that, I want a good year... The rest is details. There, no disappointments. I resolve to no longer make resolutions".

I didn't keep that resolution, either.

The good news is, the things I want to do this year have little or nothing to do with my age or that it's a new decade, but both of those things provided an extra nudge, and starting certain changes on those start dates has a nice, neat little ring to it.

Motivation for changes, number one: when I'm sitting on my butt watching T.V., there is the same merry-go-round of guilt and wishes spinning in my troubled little head. I would like to get rid of them, because they're poison.

Motivation number two: I ( we... well, you know) decided that come summer or fall of this year, I want to start trying to get knocked up. Er, pregnant. Fairly big deal.

So what do I want to do, you say? Well, I'll get into details and definitions in another entry, but basically, in no order:

1). Get body ship-shape (sure that means losing weight, but mostly it means feeling better).
2). Quit sleeping aides ( this one will be difficult).
3). Quit smoking ( this one will be last, Doctor agrees).
4). Cooking. ( this will take explaining, seeing as I already cook).
5). No more proximity-relationships ( again, further explanation at a later date).
6). Get my house where I want it to be ( getting there, slowly).
7). Make money.
8). Write. sell writing. Write every day.

And number eight is what leads me back to you....

I've been on the 'write every day' kick for awhile now... And maybe writing fiction is enough, but every time I get a little email declaring someone is trying to put up viagra links in my comment section, well, I miss the hell out of you. It's writer-on-writer love, constant support, and little insights I wouldn't normally get in my own life.

So smoochies... I missed you... Hope some of you are still out there.

Hello to All Your Pink Parts

2009-07-27T18:43:00.000-07:00

Helllooo, my lovelies!

Oh how I have missed thee... Did you miss me? Did you lay awake at night, quivering in your bed thinking of me as I did you?

No? Too far?

It's been (regrettably) awhile since we have seen each other, but I am now back in that third-dimension cybertown, having been out of the area for awhile. So before we move on, get back into the comfy swing and swish of our relationship, let's picture ourselves having a lovely post-trip coffee date in cybertown. We self consciously order our coffee, make a few weak jokes, sit down, and before we can behave as we once did, we must get through the "what's new?"s.

So here's what you missed....

1. I am melting. Much like the witch in the Wizard of Oz, but instead of a sickly green I started out a sickly, pale white and am now a sickly, bloated red.

I spend each and every day running from my air-conditioned apartment, to an air-conditioned car, into whatever air-conditioned destination the day brings, and back again. I am a less graceful, chubby vampire (are there chubby vampires?) fleeing as best as I can and yet the sun finds me. It loves me. It craves me. I can go a week running errands during the day, running from shade to shade, the only sun exposure being my elbow ever-briefly out of my car window so I can smoke, and inevitably, every cashier at every establishment will ask "so, did you get burnt at the beach this weekend, or what?"

2. My Mother's surgery went swimmingly.

I picked Mr. Bub up after work, and we drove down to San Diego (listening to Michael Jackson the whole way), and joined my Mom & sister in a residential hotel, Dog in tow. It was her first real road trip involving a hotel with Mommy & Daddy, and she did surprisingly well with the exception of repeatedly trying to get up onto my Mom's (who is not an animal lover) bed.

We checked her in for the surgery, and then spent the 3 hours it took doing things in 30 minute cycles - smoking, sitting in the cafeteria eating, sitting in the waiting room, sitting in the cafeteria chatting, smoking. When she was all done, the Doctor came out and said that to him, it did not look like cancer. We are still waiting for the official-official results, which should be coming shortly.

3. Bub came back to L.A. to work, and I stayed at my Mom's for several days. I drove her crazy, she drove me crazy - but in a loving way, you see. She is one of those women that tries to do everything herself - so caring for her mainly consisted of trying not to go to the bathroom unless she was sleeping, for fear I would emmerge with my empty bladder to find her trying to re-arrange living room furniture.

4. I am one of those people, if you can tell, that was floored by Michael Jackson dying.. Signed up for tickets to the memorial, to no avail. It was the day that we left for San Diego, though, and Bub was late for work because we were watching the hearse driving down the highway. ::sigh::

Oh, and I will judge you for making fun of people who took it hard. Bill Maher, who I normally enjoy, came back to his show after a break and mercilessly made fun of him and everyone that was upset. He then made a joke about how he peaked 20 years ago for moon walking... In my opinion, all that does is make him (or anyone who decides to poke fun at people within the first month) appear unbelievably egotistical... As successful as he is, to have the audacity to make fun of the lack of accomplishments of Michael fucking Jackson.. Wow. Kudos, Bill Maher, for being fancier than he was?

5. I am moving, bitches. In the last few months Bub & I (especially Bub) have figured out every G-d awful boring detail about credit history and pre-qualifying for a loan. Woohoo of all woohoos, we are now pre-qualified for a damn good loan.. And this week, we found a few houses online that look promising - fingerscrossedfingerscrossedfingerscrossed.

6. Last Wednesday we've been married for 3 years. Insane. He took me out to a fancy restaurant, and then I put out.

Tomorrow I am coming to all of your blogs to see what's new with you and catch up... Wear something sexy.

Pictures of our Sign!

2009-07-07T15:04:00.000-07:00

Hi kids -

I am running to San Diego this evening, but this morning while the funeral was taking over Los Angeles, I snuck to the Jackson home ( probably 20 minutes before they were there) to put up our sign...

Going to share more photos that I took that are Jackson-related later, but I wanted to show you the proof, as promised!

In the middle, I just put "Thank you for the Music, Forever in our Hearts"

So it's all in the same handwriting - but it's up! And you'll be happy to know that the Jackson family gets all of these... I was there the first time as they were having someone bring the stuff in in shifts.

So yay! Glad I could get something in for people who couldn't be here...

*******

So I'm running away to San Diego this evening, and (don't think I mentioned who this was before) my mom is having surgery tomorrow morning... I'll be busy helping out until the end of this weekend.. And if all goes according to plan ( which I'm sure it will) I will be back to normal-life (and blogging) this time next week. So bear (bare?) with me just a little bit longer...

Please keep myself and my Mother in your prayers!

Do you all want to leave something for Michael?

2009-06-30T22:24:00.000-07:00

Hi again kids..

In the middle of insanity, relative-surgery on Tuesday.

And Bub and I, on a whim, have decided to go to the MJ 'public viewing' (although I can't imagine it will be an actual viewing.. Although that's what they're saying) on Friday.

So I think Meagan had an excellent idea...

Since we're close by and can go to these things, do you all want to make a sign?

And by that I mean - I can take a poster board, and you tell me what to write and who to sign.. Then in the next few days I can leave it ( and take a picture for evidence) either by the star, by the house, or up in Neverland Ranch...

I can't promise which place it will be - but I can definitely take it to one of the above.

Is that a good idea?

If you want to leave something for him and take advantage of me living here - just give me a (short) sentence if you want and/or just the name you want signed...

Trying to figure out the logistics of getting up to Neverland Ranch for the public service. Feels like we should take advantage of being close by, pay our respects, say we were there, etc.

Come with me... To the Jackson Compound

2009-06-28T19:10:00.000-07:00

Hiya, kids..

So since Michael Jackson passed away, L.A. has been a little nutty as predicted, and we have avoided it..

We've been watching the News and watching them replay his music videos on VH1 - which has been very sad. Like I said, I was born in 1982 - he has been a constant in my life, somewhere out there in the ether, the 'soundtrack of my life' etc.. It's like waking up and someone telling you the Pacific Ocean is no longer there.

So today we were out in the vicinity of his family's home, running errands, and decided to stop by.. I guess all the Jackson family has descended on his parents house, so that's why it's still in the news.

We decided to stop by for a few reasons:

1. To be lookie-loos ( if you live next to Elvis' funeral, you go)

2. To be a part of it (it seems the sort of celebrity death, much like above, that is a great impact on our generation)

3. To pay our respects, be one of several just showing that we care, etc.

4. I'm actually starting to write something dealing with the impact of celebrity deaths

Some pictures -

(Again, feel free to use them, just let me know and send a link back to my blog)...

So there have been several impromptu memorial sites around Los Angeles... At UCLA ( where he died), at the house he was renting in Beverly Hills, the largest one is at the star on Hollywood Blvd (funny story about that to be told later) and last, outside of his parents house where we went today.

His parents live in Encino, CA ( which is in the Valley) off of Ventura Blvd ( which is the main drag in the valley) off of a street called Havenhurst. As we were approaching the area, we wondered how crazy it was going to be or if you could tell what was going on from Ventura...

And then when we got to the street, they had closed it off from main traffic completely. Might not be odd anywhere - but here it is very, very odd in that crowded of an area to shut down a street ( even a side one) completely.

Just as we rounded that corner there to make a right onto Havenhurst, you see just the beginnings of news vans. This is on the very end of the street, and the actual Jackson house is a good two blocks further down. These are the stragglers of Police and News vans on the edge of the scene...

That's looking towards the side of the road from the beginning of it... Just a few feet further and looking down the road, you begin to see the number of vans with satellites on top of them...

And I mean, there were a TON of those trailers, from channels all over the world.. Places I'm only going to pretend I've heard of..

And keep in mind, in that last picture - we're still a block away from the madness. ( There were also a lot of people with press passes on cellphones cursing - which seemed inappropriate to me - much like that fine gentleman you see to the left of your screen).

A testimony to how many news crews were there - among the prestigious reporters of NBC and CNN, of course, it goes without saying, Flying Cow News.

Once you reached the vicinity of the Jackson house, there were metal barriers with the fans, mourners (and some press) behind them.

From the direction we're facing going up the road, the TON of press tents were on the left...

...And the fans, mourners were on the right.

As you can see from the photo above... The mourners, fans, onlookers were standing along either side of the Jackson driveway. (The posters, drawings, flowers, signs, candles, etc. that we'll get to were on the other side of the driveway, not where this picture was taken from).

It was actually very respectful and calm. When you entered the street, it just looked like a media circus.. But when you got to the actual house - where the family is all inside planning the funeral/memorials today, people weren't too pushy. It wasn't like the mob at a concert or if you were to see a celebrity in the mall - everyone was sort of still. Some people were crying, some looked like it was a typical Hollywood vacation, and some were just talking.

One guy in particular was talking about how his daughter was never going to see the likes of a Michael-Jackson type star.. Nowadays ( particularly since the ability to create a robot voice with a computer makes you a musician) people come and go, there aren't that many artists from NOW whom you could call "genius" that also manage to break barriers the way Michael did. No matter what type of music you're 'into' - everyone owned a Michael Jackson album.

Anyhoo - while we were there, tinted SUVs kept pulling into the Jackson driveway, presumably his family.

As far as LAPD goes, today they were pretty quiet and respectful, they weren't too pushy.. The only place they didn't like you being was directly in front of the driveway, facing it.. They did not like that too much...

Muppety managed to face the driveway to quickly and quietly take a picture for a nano-second...

...That was taken seconds before that man asked Muppety to "move along, ma'am".

.. So myself, with a verbal spanking, and my husband got to the other side of the driveway to see where people had left gifts ( and feeling sad and like a guest who had forgotten to bring wine to dinner, decided to bring him flowers sometime this week, either here or at his star).

I took a lot of pictures of the stuff fans left - so sad.... I just can't believe he's gone..

And there were reporters all over the place.. Pulling people out of the crowd, covering it on the side of the road, and especially going into the crowd of people and asking if they spoke specific languages, by chance.

What was strange ( and by strange I mean shockingly appropriate) was how quiet it was, still, with all those people.

::sigh::

It was so sad.

We decided - what the hell? Afterwards, to just drive by his star. Why not get out of the car? Because Hollywood Blvd, in summer, on a sunday, is going to be a touristy nightmare in itself. Add this monumental celebrity death and we didn't think we'd be paying respects as much as trying not to hit anybody.

We're going to go back sometime this week early in the morning - just to quietly leave a flower or a card or something, but we did try to get pictures of it driving by - I know these are horrible, but if you'll notice the metal gates and the number of people ( which these pictures do not do justice to) around...

Although to tell you the truth, part of the reason we decided to go on the fly ( even though it was about 200 degrees outside, and on a weekend) was to feel a little more connected to the experience if at all possible. Sort of like picking at a very strange, unbelievable scab with a sense-of-history to it. But standing outside of his parents house paying respects didn't feel like that - not the way it does watching his videos on TV or listening to his music.

Like we watched the full-length version of the "Thriller" music video today ( and really, that was fucking genius, people) and that made me tear up more than being outside of the house.

The part with the fans and the supporters seemed okay - they were just quietly, and outside, trying to express love and sorrow - but the amount of news cameras... I don't know what that would be like looking out from the inside.

Anyway.. Thought I would share!

If you want to use some, be my guest - just tell me first and add a link!

In Threes/Childhood Farther Away than Yesterday

2009-06-25T18:03:00.000-07:00

Wow....

I am in shock!

My Dad always said that celebrities die in threes ( if you've never heard that for some reason, remember it - with major famous figures, it is shockingly true) and as usual, my Dad was always right.

1. Ed McMahon
2. Farrah Fawcett ( This morning - she is now being overshadowed, but still so sad).

And 3, the most shocking, unexpected -

Michael Jackson, the king of Pop, is dead. He died at 2:26 this afternoon at UCLA Medical Center, from cardiac arrest.

So sad, and so shocking to me.

(I was just at UCLA medical center on Monday with the relative who is possibly ill - we thought we were going to have to reschedule for later this week - thank G-D our appointment stayed on Monday).

So shocking. If you were born in the 80s, it seems that the things from our childhood ( and whether you like them or not, Michael Jackson and Madonna are the two musical pillars of an 80s childhood) are slowly slipping away.

My G-d. It is so crazy, isn't it? I was fully anticipating having him in our lives as an eccentric old man.

I can tell you - this city is going to be OVERRUN by Michael Jackson fans in the next few days - already the crowds in front of UCLA are remarkable... It'll take Bub a LONG time to get home...Think of the crowds that came from everywhere just for his trial - much less his death.

Jermaine Jackson has just gotten on the TV to hold a news conference... Nothing new. Cardiac arrest. Now MSNBC is playing "Man in the Mirror"..

I keep saying it but it's just so sad... The slow loss of icons from childhood... Losing people, Legends like Michael Jackson - it's like waking up one day and the Pacific Ocean is gone. There are these large, important elements to the 'now', elements of the 'have always been', that even when you're not in their presence or so much time has gone by since you've really looked at them, you expect them to be there. It's strange to be this young and already have a "good ole' days" to look back on.

RIP, Michael Jackson... You had an amazing talent that can't be put into words.. The world will not forget you... I hope you find the peace in death that escaped you in life.

********

I'm still alive and kicking! The surgery of the relative-I'm-discussing is set for the first week of July... Keep me in your prayers.

Anti-Matter

2009-06-20T13:06:00.000-07:00

Buenos dias, mis amigos.

Muppet is still around and kicking... The person at the center of the family-emergency is coming up to L.A. on Sunday so I can take them to a Doctors appointment up here, and then they are having a surgery in early July.

There are things I'm trying to do (like scrub the bejesus out of my apartment, get as closed to finished as possible on current screenplay) but will be totally back to normal post-surgery. In the meantime, forgive my disjointed blog posts - please, please, please stick with me, it's a temporary-crazy period.

It's crazy to think that one starts a blog, and when you get taken away from that blog for just a little while, you walk around in the real world with blog-related guilt - "I am abandoning my friends!"

Ladies and gentleman, I am now closer to being a computer nerd than I ever thought I would be. Your fault. Just saying.

Anyhoo - since it's the weekend, some entertainment, eh?

Everyone loves some Furburger.

Furburger's friend, who is a film-maker, (this is his blog) got this fancy new camera and put together this video featuring the lovely Furburger ( and crazy homeless men, and Los Angeles, and Furburger's dog if you look very closely at the end).

"Anti Matter" Music Video (spec) - N*E*R*D* from QWE on Vimeo.

Bad ass editing, eh? The man is talented (and what a hot, hot piece of ass he has chosen to feature in the video). They did that in two nights in Los Angeles.

Muppet needs a new camera.

Up next: A tale of a girl I know who sells her used panties on the internet. FASCINATING.

I Vant to Suck Your Blood

2009-06-14T17:49:00.000-07:00

Happy Sunday, girls and germs!

I am so excited I can taste it, and it tastes like blood.

Tonight is the (second) season premiere of "True Blood".

Muppet does not like vampires, typically.

Muppet is not a fan of science fiction.

One thing Muppet is a huge fan of, however, is Mr. Alan Ball, who has written a brilliant series on vampires that in no way feels like science fiction...

For those of you who don't know the brilliance of Mr. Ball, he's the writer behind "American Beauty" (one of Muppet's all-time favorite movies) and "Six Feet Under" ( a life-altering series - if you have not watched it, go, go now. Amazing does not begin to describe it). (PS - if you loved one, you will love the other).

Anyhoo, last year I was so terribly excited to hear that Alan Ball was doing another series for HBO.. Then I heard it was about vampires, and it made me a little nervous.

Reason being: Vampires are the most over-done topic-in-fiction right now (the world has managed to overkill vampires), and I think you all know how I feel about Twilight (vomit)... So when I heard he was doing a series centered around vampires, a part of me thought, sweet Jesus, they didn't get Alan Ball to do a series on vampires just to jump on some awful bandwagon, did they?

I should've trusted you, Mr. Ball, I should've trusted you.

I should have trusted that he could take any topic, and make it absolutely fucking riveting. Riveting, and realistic - and this is the only writer who has consistently been able to write characters that aren't just generically relatable, but second skin... I didn't know relatability until Mr. Ball came on the radar.

So tonight, season 2 begins on HBO.

For those of you who have never heard of it - try it, try it once. ( And if you don't do that, for fucks sake, rent/netflix/tivo "Six Feet Under". Watch one episode, and you will be hooked. That's the Muppet Guarantee.)

True Blood takes place in Louisiana... The premise is, basically, that vampires have been real for centuries.. But ever since the ages where people believed in that sort of thing and hunted 'vampires' and 'witches' down, they've been hiding their existence, pretending to be human and living among us. (Many 'missing' cases and unsolved murders are the work of vampires). But a couple of years ago, the vampires 'came out of the casket', and the world is trying to adapt to knowing about their existence.

The main character is Sookie Stackhouse, who of course falls for a civil-war soldier vampire named Bill.. And in the first season, a serial killer was on the loose, murdering women who had had sex with vampires.

There are BRILLIANT metaphors... The best example would be the old, southern politicians lobbying against vampire-rights.

There are brilliant fucking details... Like, to sustain their existence without killing, they have come up with a drink, "True Blood", which is synthetic blood to keep them healthy without killing. (In some of the stores on Hollywood Blvd, they have signs in the window that say "we sell true blood here"). Sort of like a veggie burger for a vegetarian. The blood of a vampire is a new, halluconegic and very illegal drug called "V", but of course to get it is not usually pleasant. There are vampire bars....

It's all really cool, and very well done so that you don't feel ( take it from me who is not a sci-fi fan) like you're watching "Sci-Fi".. You're watching a drama, that has amazingly relatable characters who happen to have supernatural things going on in their lives..

And I am SO EXCITED that it's back. Can't believe I made it a year.

I heart you, Mr. Ball.

So if you haven't watched it yet - do it, do it now. ( You can even get the first season on DVD).

Screw you, Cancer

2009-06-12T00:45:00.000-07:00

Buenos dias, chicas y chicos.

So, last we spoke I some what morbidly announced I was having a family emergency ( and sharing my shock over Mr. Bill no longer being with us)...

Forgive my absense! I have missed you terribly, and now I feel a little bit better about the situation and am resuming normal life.

Things that have happened to Miss Muppet
in the last week:

1). Forgive my speaking in code re: family emergency.. But essentially, someone close-close to me is in the middle of a cancer scare. As some of you may know, my Father died from cancer, so this brings out a bit of the freak-out in me. I am, at this point, better guarded with information and therefor feel a bit better. Thanks for baring with me, my darlings.

2). It will be four years in July since Bub & I moved here from D.C. In D.C. we had two cars, but his was such a disaster ( Bub = not such a great driver) we got rid of his car, and just took mine. We have been sharing a car for nearly FOUR YEARS.

It's much harder than it sounds, I assure you.

So this last week, a mechanic my enormous family uses ( I'm fairly sure, in the OC town where my family resides, people know that if you get one ******** family member's business, 100 will follow) found a lovely car at auction for me & Bubs... So we are once again, thank the Lord, a two family household.

Sharing a car wasn't a big deal a week ago... But a few days into having two, I have no idea how we did it in the first place.

3). I attended my Grandparent's 65th wedding anniversary, a luau.

I should say - my Grandparents are awesome. Particularly my Grandpa, who is like the Godfather of the whole big mess. Typically, at family parties, Bub and I feel awkward. You see, I was the only one raised outside of this town, so I'm not like they are, exactly, so I'm pretty sure I make everybody uncomfortable.

Earlier in the week, my Grandpa had commented on being at someone else's party, where the grandkids got up and spoke, made toasts, etc. . So I somehow got nominated to say something for our little pocket-of-family.

I memorized my little speech and said it to Bub 20 million times... Not because I'm nervous about speaking in front of groups, but because if left to my own devices I tend to curse. Eventually I was confident enough in my memorization not to curse.

So I get up, I realize there's a microphone involved ( I loooooathe microphones), and when I bring it to my lips I say "hel-", realize it's so loud, and in response, yell "JESUS CHRIST!!" as loud as you can imagine directly into said microphone, in front of the 90+ crowd, mostly made up of Roman Catholic Mexicans. I had my recovery-cigarette in front of a truck that's bumper sticker said "No Jesus, No Heaven. Know Jesus, Know Heaven".

Blogs to come, kids, and you better be fucking ready. Jesus Christ.

Who killed Bill?

2009-06-04T23:54:00.001-07:00

Feliz Junio, muchachos y muchachos.

Somehow I missed this today - my husband just told me and it makes me so sad!

David Carradine - Kung Fu great and "Bill" from the "Kill Bill" movies ( okay, not such a kung fu fan but I friggin love the Kill Bill movies) was found dead this morning.

Apparently, he was in Bangkok making a movie, and he failed to show up for a dinner-date he had with some of the crew members. On Thursday morning, a maid found him hanging in the closet of his suite. A Thai newspaper reported that it was a curtain cord, and there was no sign of foul play.

Why, Bill, why?!? You were so. cool.

There are some people who knew him who are saying they find it hard to believe he would've killed himself... And TMZ is now implying that it was auto-erotic asphyxiation. An autopsy is being done tomorrow.

RIP, Mr. Carradine. I dug you, and I'm not even a fan of Kung Fu. You seemed like a super-cool guy.

***********

I have been a little negligent in the blogosphere this week, I have been experiencing what you could categorize as a 'family emergency', and have been too frightened to slow down and write. BUT, the world has to keep spinning so I am finishing my Ricky-story, and posting another embarrassing-childhood-photo in the next few days.

Forgive my bloggy sin.

TV is Rotting My Brain

2009-06-01T20:19:00.001-07:00

Let's be clear here, from the get go..

I blame my dog.

I left my dog this evening in my home around 6:30 to pick up my husband. Normally I take her, however my car is in the shop, and I borrowed my Mom's zippy convertible for the week. So no lobito loco in the car. (Also, PS - just purchased a car, which is getting fixed up as we speak - woohoo!)

I left my dog watching NBC. When husband and I returned, we did dishes, and I sat down at exactly 8:04 PM - the TV is still on NBC, and I see Lou Diamond Phillips.

I loooove Lou Diamond Phillips. Why, you ask? Because of La Bamba.

A lesson in Latinos, ladies and gents: Mexican families in Southern California love Ritchie Valens.

My grandfather was a musician. My Grandfather, and my whole enormous family, is Mexican and from Southern California. Mexicans, at that time, weren't allowed to do shit - much less become mainstream musicians. This makes Ritchie Valens a point of pride. You mix these things together, and you get a childhood full of Ritchie Valens music and watching "La Bamba" 800 times. If I could've saved one musician on the day the music died? RITCHIE VALENS.

You get the picture.

Hence the loving of the Lou Diamond Phillips. Don't know much about him elsewhere, but I love "La Bamba". (The only other thing that I know is that his first wife, Julie Cypher, left him for Melissa Etheridge - she was the one Melissa had kids with, courtesy of David Crosby's spooj.)

ANYWAY.

I see Ritchie - err, I mean Lou - on TV, get excited, and then come to realize I am watching "I'm a Celebrity: Get me Out of Here".

For those of you with more of a life than I - this show is now going to be on 4 times a week on NBC. They drop some very sad celebrities into the jungle, and give them challenges survivor-style.

So let the record show a few things:

1. I was disgusted by the commercials for this show, ( am typically disgusted by what most D-list celebrities will do in terms of reality shows) and was going to make a point not to watch it.

2. My dog's fault, not mine.

3. I saw Lou, I looked, and by the time I knew what was happening EX-GOVERNOR BLAGOJEVICH'S WIFE was floating down a river in a jungle. AMAZING. No one has a lower view of "celebrity" reality shows than I, but to see ole' hairpiece's wife whoring herself to this magnitude was something I would not have imagined possible.

The fact that there was some meeting... Somewhere... With some PR drone.. About how to win relatable points, about how to get America to turn in their favor... One of the first 'surely she won't go for this, but' suggestions that came out of that suit's mouth was "reality show" and she said YES.... AMAZING.

Never fear, for watching this, I will loathe myself proportionally.

*****************

Conan, oh sweet, sweet Conan...

The east coast should be tuning into your big premiere as we speak...

How I have missed you, my freakishly tall, muppety, fire-crotched TV husband. I have loved you since long before anyone did - don't forget that.

I literally quiver in anticipation.

Muppet's Dating History Part 8.75

2009-05-28T15:22:00.000-07:00

Happy Thursday, mocos locos.

And now for the next installment of my dating resume...

Previous Chapters:

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7

And if you're new, to know what the hell I'm talking about, I highly suggest first reading -

Part 8
Part 8.5

Let's continue with Ricky, shall we?

Muppet's Dating History Part 8.75

Rebound/Whath is Upfff PIII - 1998

In the last installment, we met "Emily", my new best friend - who was gorgeous, fun to be around, and as an added bonus had very little rules and a constant flow of cash. I was completely infatuated with our friendship. I was also desperately infatuated with the hysterical Ricky. We were about to go on our first date - but at the last minute, decided to meet our improv friends, 'Hope' and Jonah, instead.

Ricky

The sexual tension in the car was palpable. Electricity. The rush-of-a-crush.

By the time we parked at the bowling alley, I was ready to carry his blood around my neck in a tiny vial. We got out of the car ( he opened my door!) and walked towards the building. When we saw Hope and Jonah waiting outside, all the crackling heat and electricity came to an inexplicable stop. It was like when the electricity goes out during a thunder storm. You're never as aware of the sounds of the fridge, the air conditioner or the ceiling fan, as when they come to a grinding halt.

We instantly, and without warning, went into 'improv' mode. The four of us - Ricky, Jonah, Hope and I - had been in front of each other a million times doing sketches, hanging out, rehearsing. We had never all been together outside of that setting, and once we were, we unconsciously fell into "improv, the traveling tour".

Bowling was fun. I had never done it since I dropped a bowling ball on my toe at the age of nine - but it was fun.

It was fun because of that inexplicable thing that happens between funny people when they get around each other in groups. One person says something funny, another adds on to it, another adds on to that, until your conversation is completely ludicrous, and you're holding onto your sides trying to out-funny-the-funny.

It was fun and there was a lot of laughing. The one thing it was not, however, was sexy.

Ricky and I had always flirted and had sexual chemistry - but we were in rehearsals, and it was this hidden undertone to making each other (and other people) laugh.

In the presence of other people, the funny and friendship were still the main ingredients to our relationship - the sexy had to be snuck in. For a brief instant, without other people around, we had nothing but sexual chemistry. Then when people came back into the picture, we went immediately back to funny and friendly.. I think, since we had stared at the sexual part and labeled it what it was, it was hard to go back to our normal circumstances and have that sneaky, belly-dropping, 'ooh this is naughty' feeling.

Essentially, it was weird, and I didn't understand why.

I have this theory about funny people and romance. You can have two funny people in a couple, obviously.. But when you have two people where funny is there defining quality, their 'thing', it gets tricky. It can quickly go from being funny together and making each other laugh, to two people attempting a mini-standup-routine on one another.

As an adult, I've seen this really at work. Two funny-funny people get together. They're the couple you want to come to your party, they're the couple you want to go drinking with. They do outrageous things. Then pretty soon, at home they're laughing at each other's farts, measuring poop, getting increasingly outrageous and always trying to one-up each other. Sometimes there's really passionate fights, or really passionate sex.

It's a really fun thing to be a part of in the moment ( believe me, I've been there) but eventually it ends, or you become the sexless and/or constantly-drunk couple who just really enjoy talking to one another. You quickly go from being super-passionate funny people who are fun to be around, to twin brothers who like to wrestle. This is a hard thing to avoid without one person being funnier than the other, without different-sorts-of-funny.

Basically, avoiding confusing passion, love, infatuation, with the high of making other people laugh together.

Instantly, we fit into that last sentence.

We drove home, and he kissed me. It was short, sweet, and like tasting one spoonful of the moistest, greatest chocolate cake you have ever had without being able to eat any more.

I knew that it had gotten weird, I felt it, like a wall. But this is someone I had been fantasizing about for months - long before Beaker and I even broke up. So to get this close... I was in no way thinking "well it was weird once, so we shouldn't try again".

He, sadly, did think that way.

I got on the computer before the end of the weekend, and we IMed back and forth. He said ( and this part I remember distinctly):

"We're sexually compatible, obviously... And as much as I want to rip your clothes off, the relationship part we won't be able to make work. And I don't know if we can just fuck around without losing each other".

I was crushed. The first crush I had in 3 years, and he crushed me. I even contemplated, for awhile, just doing the fucking-around thing, but I just liked him too much.

I funneled every bit of heartbreak I should have felt for breaking up with Beaker into Ricky. Beaker I understood wasn't going to make sense in the long run. Ricky, Ricky made sense. And remember - I really believe it was something pheremone-related at work here, I could not be within 10 feet of him without wanting to bite something off of him.

For weeks, I was a jumble of nerves. It was like having an anxiety disorder - a few hours of not thinking about it, and then an hour of feeling nauseous, shaky... That stomach dropping feeling of inexplicable LOSS.

And for the life of me, I could not act like myself around him. I wasn't funny, I was trying to be funny. I was overly-giggly at his jokes, I was constantly full of lust and anger at the same time.

When a week went by and he hadn't realized the err of his ways, I started appealing to that 'sexually compatible' side. I didn't wear it if I didn't have to lay down and suck it in to get it on.

Emily, of course, being my best friend heard about all of it. She agreed that we were the perfect couple. She was friends with him, too, and she was going to take matters into her own hands. So she started emailing him...

Was going to do this as the final part, but it got too long! Will post the last bit of Ricky soon...

Rambler

2009-05-27T09:12:00.001-07:00

Buenos Dias, mis chimichangas.

There is a girl in Hawaii I want to throw down and make sweet, sweet love to.

Her name is Rambler, and I am guest posting over there today about men I would like to do. Go visit me. Give the impression I have friends.

Embarassing photo to come.

That is all.

Memorial Day, Baby.... And Gay Rights

2009-05-25T12:22:00.000-07:00

Hello, children of the Blogosphere.

How was everyone's Memorial Day?

I went to my beloved Cinespia last night...

So during the summer, in Hollywood Forever Cemetery, they project movies every weekend onto a mausoleum wall. ( It's right next to Douglas Fairbanks' tomb/monument, so there is a large area of dead-people-free grass to sit on).

So, the cemetery typically looks like this -

(The dead-people-free grass I'm referring to would be directly in front of those rock sculptures - can't see it in these photos, but there's a little road in front of those rocks).

Last night it looked like this -

People bring blankets, lawn chairs, wine, picnic baskets, candles, etc. etc. etc. They have some amazing DJs ( particularly enjoyed the appropriate classic rock last night) perform before and after the movie. They show movie posters on that wall - and then the whole wall becomes the movie screen once it gets dark.

So last year I went 3 times...

I saw "Close Encounters of the Third Kind" (which I had never seen before). They did a special thing with the sound system where the ground literally vibrated each time a spaceship showed up, to the point where car alarms went off all over the surrounding neighborhood.

I also saw "Alien" ( I normally am not into Aliens, I swear).

Can't for the life of me remember what the 3rd one was.

But every summer, they play a movie I really want to see - my best example would be "Carrie", how bad ass would that be to see in a cemetery? - but every year when they play one I'm super-excited about, I haven't been able to go.

So last night they played Dazed & Confused...

...And I friggin LOVE that movie. Finally got to see one I was super-excited about.

They played Classic Rock instead of scary-trance-music ( the last song they played was "Dazed and Confused" by Led Zeppelin... yay!) and people cheered whenever Matthew McConaughey uttered one of his famous lines (my favorites: "It'd be a lot cooler if you did" or "I love those redheads, man". Oddly this is the only movie he's in that I like him in).

Totally awesome.

(Kali, my hot date)

They had a carnival go up in a park in the valley this weekend - so Bub, Furburger & I were going to go today.. But somehow, a Memorial Day Weekend carnival closes the Sunday before Memorial Day. So no panic attack on a ferris wheel for me today..

We did, however, go to Borders with a 40% coupon.. I purchased:

*A Day in the Life (fiction in the 60s - right up my alley)
*Go Ask Alice ( just remembered the existence of this book & reading it in high school last night, and wanted to re-read)
*Ghosts caught on film: Photographs of the Paranormal (hoaxes to the inexplicable)

Yay summer reading.

We then made stir-fry and had an Intervention marathon.

***********

Being a liberal does not mean I am anti-armed services.. (As a matter of fact, people-who-are-not-liberals, in my mind, it makes me a hardcore supporter of the armed services).

That being said, if you haven't already today - take a moment to say your mental thank yous to the braver-than-imaginable men and women who have lost their lives defending our rights.

***********

And speaking of our rights...

Tomorrow, the California State Supreme Court will rule (it's expected around 10 AM, PST) on whether or not to overturn Prop 8 Passing.

I'm sure I will be writing more about this tomorrow, post-ruling, but...

For the love of G-d, whatever state you live in, cross your fingers, throw around some spirit fingers, say your prayers, wear your pajamas inside out - however you want to contribute your energy, pray our courts have some sense and do the right thing.

It is OKAY to drag people into this.

When this country decided segregation was wrong - guess what? It was a SPLIT DECISION.

When this country decided whether women should vote - guess what? IT WAS A SPLIT DECISION.

If there are people in this country who are against gays having civil rights, if there are people in this country who genuinely believe that this will open the doorway to marriages with goats - let them be ignorant, let them pout. They WILL catch up. It is unacceptable that we as a society should be denying people their rights because some people do not understand the concept of equality and the concept of our constitution (PS - to deny Californians the right to marry would be to change that constitution - the same one you point to when you want to keep your ammo).

If we waited for everyone to get on board - we would .still. have. segregated. water. fountains.

Additionally, as an essay question, name one time this country, or any country for that matter, has denied rights and enforced blatent inequality against a group of people that seems, in retrospect, to have been a brilliant idea?

And for chrissakes - we are here in the first place because a shit ton of people wanted RELIGIOUS FREEDOM.

::sigh::

I have many love feelings for California, and a few things that I hate. The one thing I love about California is that we're PROGRESSIVE. Of the tone that's being set for the country, we have a pretty big sized chunk of it. And we, somehow, have gotten ridiculously behind on this issue despite being gay-town.

Hello, West-Hollywood cop cars have rainbow flags on them.

So get out those spirit fingers, people.. We love our gays so let's show em'.

Tomorrow's a big day.

Show & Tell

2009-05-18T23:38:00.000-07:00

Woohoo, ladies and germs!

Yesterday morning, post Mel's and pre-Furburger Earthquake, in a moment of insanity I took Bub to Best Buy.

(You see, Bub as a tech-nerd, feels it is necessary to have all kinds of hoozits and whatsits galore.. Normally, I try to avoid going into a Best Buy with Bub, because I'm afraid we'll walk out with 14 computers and a $1500 mechanism that does something I can't understand thus giving me nightmares it will grow to have feelings of its own, come to life, and kill us all in the night.)

But yesterday, after wooing me into a good mood with a tortilla Scramble, Bub explained that because of all the boring house-hunting stuff, we needed a fax machine and a new printer. So we found a fax/printer/scanner machine.

The point - woohoo! Now I have a scanner!

Which leads us to Show & Tell..

The lovely Shannon does something called "Memory Mondays" wherein she shares a lovely photo from her past. So I'm thinking every Monday ( or every other), I'll share one old photo with you all. (Although Shannon's far fancier - she also includes things that were popular at the time the photo was taken - check it out).

So inspired by Shannon, a picture and a tale...

Monday's Show & Tell

Pale and Sickly Dancer in 96-97

Did I mention I'm pale?

I don't believe that I mentioned, however, that I spent most of the first 16 years of my life dancing. I was in a local dance company, and my freshman year in High School I was on the dance team.

I dunno about your High School, but in my high school, the dance team was a very difficult thing to get into - so I was super proud of myself for making it as a freshman.

Any girl dancing at a somewhat serious level is put under enormous pressure to be thin. Not just thin, but unnaturally thin - movie star thin.

The first time someone told me I needed to lose weight - I was 8. I was entering a company where I would be the youngest - the second youngest would be 15. My dance teacher took me by the shoulders and said "you need to think about losing 8 - 10 lbs". My parents were furious.

So prior to dance team in High School, I had been in companies outside and having nothing to do with school. So dance team was my first experience with dancing exclusively with peers - and by that I mean High School Girls.

So quickly, quickly, quickly... The diet-talks started. The "this is what I ate this weekend, what did YOU eat?" started.

On a team of, I believe, 15 girls, 3 were freshman, 2 were sophomores, and the rest were upper classmen. My friendship-niche included Me (Muppet), Crazy (freshman who shared the same name as me), 'Gorgeous' ( sophomore) and 'Bitter' (sophomore).

We were 'dance friends'. Which meant, at anything that was related to dance team - we were buddy-buddies, but didn't necessarily 'hang out' in school.

If you were at any practices, games, competitions, sleep-away camps, national championship, hotels, airplanes, etc. etc. etc. - you would find the 4 of us together. If you ran into us 5 times, 3 out of those 5 times we would more than likely be talking about dieting, our bodies, or what we wanted to be doing with our bodies.

Crazy survived just looking muscular. Bitter became Bulimic. Gorgeous became anorexic and bulimic.

I never stuck anything down my throat or really starved myself, but I went diet-crazy. I worked out too much, and even though I ate - I ate very strictly and unsteadily. I took my body way too seriously, and ended up looking like I did in this picture.. Very pale, and eerily thin..

Thankfully I had strict and involved parents, and that really prevented even the possibility of having a hardcore eating disorder without them shackling me to something and calling in the therapy troupes. So I took it as far as you can without having an eating disorder.

I was referring to this the other day - even if you didn't know it - when I said that now that I'm fluffier, I'm happier than I ever was as a skinny girl, and there are a lot of women who wouldn't be able to understand that.

For those of you wondering why I gave them weird names-

Crazy was named because she was literally crazy. She was a pathological ( not just colorful, but pathological) liar and will have a crazy guest starring role in one of our future dating stories.

Bitter, at the time of Dance-Team, was very nice. She was Jay's girlfriend ( Jay is a character where we are currently in the dating story), and was thus High School royalty when we were friends. I later made the full switch to drama nerd, just as she became a senior. Post-Jay, she became THE meanest girl I think I ever knew in High School. Just merciless and nasty.

Gorgeous I call Gorgeous because she may just be the most beautiful girl I've ever seen up close. Not model-porn-star-generic beautiful, but the sort that takes your breath away - like when you look at Angelina Jolie and go "Oh my G-d - I've never seen a woman like that". She stayed, as far as I know, gorgeous and nice... She quit making herself sick long before Bitter did.

In reality, we all had J names that make "ie" noises at the end. Yeah, we were those girls - can you picture it? Four girls in cheerleading uniforms, with names that all sound the same..

More on dance team with one of the next Monday's photos.

Did the Earth move for you?

2009-05-17T23:27:00.000-07:00

Holy hell, my little diablos!

I was born in CA, perhaps not raised, but I have spent a total of 9 years of my life here.

Every single friggin time there has been an Earthquake, I miss it.

No one around me misses it - just me.

Examples:

1. I'm 16 or so, here on vacation. I get on a roller coaster ( Boomerang, I believe). While on roller coaster, people are screaming - I assume, because, you know, it's a roller coaster. By the time we get off, everyone who was on the ride with me, and even more so the people who were not on, are yammering on about the Earthquake that just happened. Did not feel a damn thing unusual - but I thought, hell, it was, afterall, a roller coaster.

2. Last year, I'm at Groundlings. Halfway through class, everybody gets a break - so me and a few delightfully funny people walk a block down from the theatre to a coffee shop. We sit, we discuss this girls' show, we settle up and head back for part 2 of class. As we're walking down the street, the doors to the theatre ( and several other buildings) open, and people come rushing out, all in a panic. We think - masked gunman? Gas leak? We jog to catch up, and alas, it was a very strong Earthquake that sent all the students ( in Los Angeles, an actual born & bred Los Angelian and therefor Earthquake-educated individual is rare) running into the street. Totally missed it, and it was apparently very strong. When I got home, all my animals were hiding ( and refusing to talk to me or behave rationally) and luckily non-important things were knocked over.

There have been tiny ones, sure - but mostly I hear a glass clink, and someone says "did you feel that?"

Or alternatively, it feels like someone is running up the stairs in my building, or an 18 wheeler is driving by, and by the time I figure out it's an earthquake, the whole thing is over.

And despite what you may have heard about California being a ticking time bomb, I can assure you - we rarely have earthquakes that anyone feels. (And while we're on the subject - name one part of the U.S. where you can live, and not have the potential to be affected by some natural disaster or another).

The only Earthquake I ever felt strongly was in Mexico City - and I'm fairly sure I felt it so strongly because the whole city is built on water. It felt like surfing.

Anyhoo.

So this evening, we had a 4.7.

My day:

*This Morning, Bub and I went to brunch at Mel's Diner, and we saw David Hyde Pierce... Add him to the list of sightings!

*The Lovely Furburger came over to keep us company and have a Friends Marathon (ohh funny sitcoms, what happened to thee?)

*Today was also 'spring cleaning' day.. So while the Fur and I were watching Friends, I took all the DVDs out of our bookcases ( hundreds - to which I added a few more and had to make room for), wiped down the bookcases, and re-organized DVDs. We live in Earthquake land, and these bookcases are tall - we were supposed to nail the tops of the bookcases to the wall when we set them up a year ago.

So we had this conversation:

Me: Do you realize we never nailed these bookcases in?
Bub (tippity typing on his metal whore): yeah, they'll be fine.
Me: What if there's an earthquake?
Bub: They were fine during the last one (eyes still on metal whore).

*Done cleaning, it's early evening, Fur and I are on the couch watching Friends and awaiting laundry, Bub is still with his slut. The ground starts shaking and making noise. I scrunch my face, thinking 'what asshole is coming up the stairs like an elephant? Do those 22 year olds across the hall not realize people live here other than them?'

And then, just as I'm about to say "what the hell is that?" There's a BIG shake. Big to the point where it made my stomach drop and the instant realization - oh shit, this is an Earthquake.

We all froze, a few seconds of staring at each other, and just when it was becoming ridiculously long and we probably would've contemplated moving into a doorway or under a table, it stopped.

Furburger just pouted and said "That was horrible!"

As we were discussing said event, a few times I felt like it was shaking again, but I couldn't tell if it was me or the ground - twas' the ground, aftershocks.

Did you feel that, Martha, Sevi, other Californians? Apparently they felt it all the way down in San Diego...

The bookcases are still not nailed.

P.S.

2009-05-14T15:55:00.001-07:00

Hello, colorful little cockatoos.

I am over at the lovely, lovely Shannon's today... Telling some ghost stories and thus isolating myself from the 'sane' people of this world.

If you are unfamiliar with Shannon, GET FAMILIAR. Get naked. Love her.

Muppet's Dating History Part 8.5

2009-05-13T17:57:00.000-07:00

Hello there, my little lattes.

Another installment of our little bedtime story...

For anyone who happens to be new, I'm going through my dating history as one, big, fat, long, hard ( get it out of the gutter) excorcism.

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7
Part 8

Phew.

Two things to address:

1). If you'll notice, I'm doing shorter installments - probably because I remember much more the older I get in our tale, and what the hell, if you're going to do something, do it right.

2). I'm calling this one 8.5 because it's about a girl - and not a girl from dating history, but a friend. I decided to do this for reasons which I will disclose in P9...

Muppet's Dating History Part 8.5
Rebound/Whath is Upfff PII - 1998

We left in the middle of Ricky.. For this reason, I highly suggest that you read Part 8, but for those of you who are lazy, a brief recap.

I had just broken up with my first love, 'Beaker'. Towards the end of that relationship, I got a hardcore crush on 'Ricky', funny and popular boy who was on the improv team with me. He was, I believe, my first experience with pheremones - where not one second of the day releases you from crush related stomach flips. Ricky had finally asked me out on a date...

I also asked you to mentally file away that I started hanging out with a girl, 'Emily'. Forgive the small sidestep...

Emily

Emily was also in the drama department, and also, much like Ricky, a small percentage of the drama department that wasn't strictly "drama nerd", but also "popular in general population".

Emily was liked by all... She was a lot of fun, could hold her own with the boys but still be 'lady like'. Most people thought she was pretty - she was tall, dark hair and eyes, very thin but still with curves. Her family also had money - a big house in a nice neighborhood. Emily had what teenagers would've thought as the perfect amount of parental intervention - she had involved, loving parents but with no curfew or very many rules for a 16 year old. She had a brand spanking new banana yellow jeep with Eddie Bauer interior, and she was never in a bad mood, always smiling and laughing. As a matter of fact, the only superficial imperfections Emily had were a slightly sizable nose and a not-too-horrible-but-still-definitely-noticeable lisp. All in all, G-d certainly blessed Emily.

I don't know how or why we became friends. One minute, she's not on my radar at all, the next minute we're as close as close can be. I got the impression fairly quickly that she was one of those girls that has a revolving door of best friends. She picked a girl, became inseparable with her, and for a few months that girl had nothing but good times and pixie dust in her life - it was like Emily was the sun, and she decided to bless you and you alone with sunshine.

At the time, I was exactly the same sort of girl, only worse. But, in my defense, I did have best/good friends for long periods of time - for life, actually. But those friends were more like my wife or my husband, and the new girl of the moment for me was the girlfriend, or the hot mistress. I would become a victim to friendly infatuation, and devour that person over the course of a few months until the new lust fizzled.

I really think that prior to my Father passing away and getting a hardcore friendship lesson, my wires were somehow crossed, and I had girl friends the way most people date in their youth.... And even though my dating life ( obviously) had just as many ridiculous stories as everybody else, I always had a sort of calm perspective. With dating, I just had a hey-this-is-fun perspective, and the attitude that if love happened to me, it'd be great, but I wasn't going to lose too much sleep over it. I was always on the obsessive hunt for a best-best friend, though.

Anyhoo.

Emily and I were perfect for each other. Somehow our best friend lulls overlapped, and we zeroed in on each other.

It was awesome hanging out with her... It was constant laughing and giggling, and we had exactly the same fun-priorities, exactly the same boundary between what was bad ass and what was going to far. Our collective charm earned us the friendship of the super-cool older kids... I already was friends with Ricky, obviously, and she had befriended another guy in the same group, and once Emily & I were best friends, this unlocked Jay ( that's his real name) who was the King of this group ( but the nicest guy you could imagine) and all the older boys ( we were sophomores). We were already in the 'in' crowd for the younger kids, and now we had an 'in' to the older cool-kid parties.

So Emily and I would be a two-headed monster during the week at school, and the weekends were totally ours. We would have slumber parties at her house.. We would go to these parties we now had an invitation to, drink some, meet guys who were, the previous year, more like Tiger Beat hunks rather than attainable friends. Her not having a curfew made the weekends amazing... We would go to parties. We would go toilet papering. We would meet my new funny-friends at IHOP at 2 in the morning to recount weekends. For those few months, it was literally like living in one of those high-school movies, where everything is what boy you finally talked to, what liquor someone managed to get, who told you you were pretty.

It was around this time that I started smoking. But honestly, other than that and some regular teenage shennanigans like some drinking and being silly, we really never got into trouble or did anything over the line. The perfect amount of teenage-fun with the best possible teenage-social-calendar.

When Ricky got around to asking me out, Emily might have been even happier than I was. You know, talking about it all week in high pitch squeels, etc. The night before our date, Emily came over, then we spent the night at her house - it took going through both closets to pick out the proper ensemble.

Ricky

A couple of hours before our first date, our friends Jonah and 'Hope' had called and asked if we wanted to hang out with them. There was a bowling alley by school, and they thought it would be funny for four people who would never go bowling to go bowling. Loving their company and wanting to solidify friendship with them, we agreed.

When he picked me up, pheremones had kicked into high gear. I finally had a guy who was what I thought was my type - blonde ( River Phoenix? I strived for you) and hysterical. The boys in my life before Ricky had all been reasonably funny - either they made me and others laugh, or they participated and excelled at witty banter. But Ricky? Ricky was known for funny. Ricky made everybody laugh, great big belly laughs. The first words out of your mouth when describing him were not "smart" or "good at football" or "cute", they were "That guy is fucking FUNNY."

So before we were in the car for 10 minutes, I had already established that he was going to be John Travolta, and I was going to be fucking Sandy.

We're driving in the car, it's raining, I believe. "I never met a girl like you before" was playing on the radio, and he put his hand on my leg. I got more pleasure from his hand casually strewn on my leg than I did in the past year of teenage-sexual-activity, it felt like there was an actual electrical current running from his hand to my leg.

We were flirting professionally the 20 minutes it took to get to the bowling alley, the perfect mix of snarky banter and make-your-opponents-cheeks-pink kindness. It was like we were scripted by professionals. It was like we were the long standing couple that everybody loves, on their way to do a paid appearance at a bowling alley ( that's how much you love being around them). Total, utter, head-to-toe, animalistic infatuation.

When we arrived and got out of the car, Jonah and Hope were outside.

Now imagine us - walking, close together. You could practically hear the zap-zap noises from the mad scientist electricity. And then.. Out of nowhere, with no warning whatsoever, when we hit a 10 foot distance from Jonah and Hope and exchanged hellos, we hit a big, tall, thick, imposing wall of awkward.

WHAM.

And we could not get back over that wall.

100

2009-05-11T16:15:00.000-07:00

Hellooooo, lovely little poppets.

I have reached 100 posts.

Thank you, thank you blog friends, for being little online therapists 100 times over. Why doesn't everyone have a blog?

Or DO they? ::clap of lightning::

Typically I would shy away from this sort of thing.. But to add to the level of our intimacy - someone once told me I am close to several people, with only a couple close to me - I'll do it to commemorate this our 100th post.

Meet Muppet

(The theme of the 2 pictures of me: if you were a psychopath that wanted to steal my chonies, you would not recognize me from the following pictures. That's me on the left, circa 1996).

1. I have an enormous birthmark on my thigh that looks exactly like a chocolate chip cookie.
2. I have thought of having cookie monster tattooed around said cookie.
3. I have 2 tattoos - a celtic knot on my back, and a blue heart on my ankle.
4. I sleep in just panties...
5. ..however, one of my favorite simple things in the world is pajamas.. which I wear when I'm at home, just not when I'm sleeping.
6. I was an insomniac for several years. We're talking 3 hours a night.
7. I worked for several years in what you would call the paranormal-field.
8. Now I'm trying to be a writer.
9. I have to finish the last 4 scenes in a screenplay by Wednesday.
10. Though I enjoy reading this sort of thing because often people will blurt things they wouldn't otherwise, doing it myself strikes me as an exercise in vanity.

11. One of the biggest Muppet-sins, in her mind, is vanity.
12. I cannot believe that there are still people on this earth who speak about themselves in the third person.
13. Another one of my big pet peeves is people who are fake ghetto-fabulous.
14. Or anything that could be categorized as "white trash".
15. I saw a guy's head split open over a pool table at a strip club, once.
16. Once I spilled a drink on myself moments after entering a strip club. My usually very lady-like friend bought me a lap dance, and I'm fairly sure the dancer thought I was just excited.
17. I seriously do not frequent strip clubs - only a few times in life, but I apparently have some sort of strip club curse.
18. I met most of the friends I hardcore forever-kind-of-love in High School.
19. One lives in England, one lives in Chicago, one lives in NYC, one lives in D.C., and one lives here.
20. The other friends I hardcore forever-kind-of-love, I mostly met related to comedy, with one or two whom I met online.

Lady friends.

21. I do not believe in having a lot of bullshit acquaintances.
22. I used to be the 'look at how fancy I am' sort of girl who had 8,000 friends in my younger days, but when your Dad gets sick/dies, it's amazing how few are left standing by you.
23. I'm a lady of strong opinion, but I think there's a way to do that and be effective other than shouting, no matter how badly I want to.
24. I think a lot of people confuse being argumentative with being interesting. Or intelligent.
25. One of the 'issues' that I can't control myself enough to be patient with the opposing side is gay rights.
26. I think it's okay, with things like that, to drag the slow into the modern world. If our policy was to wait until everybody agrees with no split decision, we'd still have segregated water fountains in several states.
27. I'm a hippie. The sort that bathes, though. And I don't mind guns with strong, strong laws.
28. One of my travel-goals is to go to NYC in December, in front of the Dakota, and participate in the candle light vigil for John Lennon.
29. He died 13 months before I was born.
30. I am one of the people that LIKES Yoko Ono. If my husband said to me "I'm not happy, I want to do this crazy thing on my own" I would say "do what makes you happy". That's called loving someone. And I think most people who dislike her were just told to.

31. Any woman who does anything artistic and ballsy/weird (don't get smart - without hurting people, I mean)- like get up on a stage and inviting people to cut her clothes off - has my respect.
32. Sometimes I think I was born in the wrong time.. I used to think that so many people in my generation just don't give a shit about things - and I still do, sometimes. But this last election year surprised the hell out of me and made me swell with pride, finally.
33. It could not have been more perfect on election day - when they knew ( and could announce) that Mr. Obama had won, it was because Virginia ( my former state, where every year I'd vote democrat and it would still turn red) turned blue. I cried. (Not typical Muppet behavior).
34. If heaven is a time machine, I'd like to be reborn into the 60s, please.
35. Other bands/musicians I love: Led Zeppelin, Janis Joplin, Bob Dylan, the Beatles, John Lennon ( obviously), the Doors, Jimi Hendrix, Joni Mitchell, The Steve Miller Band, the Grateful Dead, The Clash, Social Distortion, the Ramones..
36. Sure I like modern stuff, just somehow not as many modern bands... Coldplay, Modest Mouse, Death Cab for Cutie, Sigur Ros, Madonna ( does she count? I guess that's still old Madonna)...
37. I love hippie clothes - peasant blouses, colorful jewelry, and I'm having a love affair, lately, with summer dresses.
38. Normally I hate heat, humidity - which pretty much blows summer. Good thing I live in L.A.

39. I got married on the hottest day of the year in CA in 2006 - people's air conditionings were blown because of rolling blackouts, and we had to move our outdoor ceremony inside so as to not kill old people.
40. Then the air conditioners in the hall blew out, so everyone had to depend on fans ( imagine being in a dress that weighed 400 lbs).

My cousin - the most ridiculous human being I know.

41. I have an enormous Mexican family in Orange County.
42. Chances are, if you know a Mexican-American in Orange County, you know a relative of mine.
43. My Grandmother was one of.. 13? And my Grandfather was one of 12. Each sibling, I believe, had at least 4 children. They all live in the same town.
44. I am the one person, that I know of, who has never lived in that town ( I was born nearby, and immediately taken to San Diego).
45. Then, technically... 7 other places before here.
46. I did technically live a few months in Pittsburgh - I went to Carnegie Mellon for awhile to study acting... One of the prof's who was a visiting prof from Harvard told me not to do acting, to do comedy. (wonder if I'm just a bad actress...)
47. My cousin (in the above picture) is one of the funniest people I know, if not the funniest.
48. One thing I love about my life - I know a shit ton of ridiculously funny people.
49. I think humor keeps a person young. Not one molecule in my body understands how there are some people, on this planet, who do not have a sense of humor.. I feel sorry for them, I really do.
50. On the other hand, it irritates me that soo many people think they're hysterical. That has nothing to do with having a sense of humor or being funny. I'm totally cool with knowing that you're funny. I just find it slightly irksome that there are so many people ( maybe it's a local thing?) that don't just humbly think "I'm funny!" or "I love to laugh!" they think "I. AM. WILL. FERRELL."

51. I love Will Ferrell. I love Tina Fey. Too many people from SNL to count.
52. I do not think I am Tina Fey. I think I have a pretty good sense of humor, and can usually tell what's funny (and what's just off putting) about other people.
53. Oddly enough, most of what I've been writing lately is not comedy-related.
54. I started a blog so that I could include it in part of a resume.
55. It's nutty to think that anyone actually reads this thing. (Though, I'd be willing to bet, maybe 2 people have made it to number 55 in this sort of thing. Anyone?)
56. I have found some pretty fucking hysterical writers via this whole bloggy world (you know who you are).
57. And some pretty amazing artists.
58. Bub, when I met him, was a musician. ( 15 some odd guitars flew here via a private plane donated by an admirer of my Dad... Life is crazy).
59. Now he is a big wig "Director of Technology". (so grown up sounding... how odd).
60. He does, however, make me laugh hysterically. If we were a sitcom about a silly couple, he would be the straight-man.

(Bubboo.)

61. That would probably surprise people seeing as he's very quiet. I always tell people we're verrry similar - only difference is volume. That just happens to be a thing people notice first.
62. We're both nerds - just of a non stereotypical variety.
63. He doesn't normally look like that - he's remarkably furry. Hair straight up like a pineapple, and Monday he shaves, by Sunday he looks like he crawled out of a Bible story.
64. We met doing everything you're not supposed to do - our first date we got drunk in a parking lot, made out in the movie theatre, slept together, and I moved in with him 2 weeks later.
65. I would kill a girlfriend if she said she was thinking about the same thing - but for me, it just happened to be the best thing I ever did, so what do I know.
66. We've been together (and lived together) 5 1/2 years, married for almost 3.
67. I still get butterflies seeing him walk to the car when I pick him up from work.
68. Even though it isn't conscious, looking back at my life, my type has been brown hair, brown eyes, and varying-degrees of grumpy looking.
69. Neither one of us drink at all - he has type 1 diabetes so it's not so smart. I don't drink because I'm married to him, & because I have 2 alcoholics in my life who are screwing themselves up as a result ( and consequently, don't seem to believe in alcoholics), so I figure maybe my 'prayers' will have more weight if there's no alcohol behind them.
70. Genetically, I'm likely to become easily addicted to things. That's another reason.

71. I smoke. Parliament lights.
72. I am living proof that smoking does not make you thin.
73. I'm not 300 lbs or anything, but I am curvy.
74. At one point, I was teeny tiny (about 1oo lbs).
75. Most people probably wouldn't understand it, but I'm much happier being curvy than I was when I was teeny-tiny.
76. I have an enormous head.
77. I'm not a big fan of my mouth (small), my hands (big) and all the clothes-covered areas most women do not like about themselves.
78. I do like my eyes (despite their bugginess) and my boobs (although I would like them a teeny bit smaller).
79. Most of the time I don't like pictures that are taken of me, but it drives me INSANE when people edit/don't use/cry over photos because they don't like the way they look, so I make a point to not be that way.
80. One of the photos of myself that I dislike the most is the one that everybody seems to like. I look like I'm making "heroin model face" when really the wedding photographer somehow caught me making my "it's hot as balls" face.

(Hello - I am Muppet. Once again, I'm sneaking a photo in temporarily before crawling back to anonymity. Think of it as a peep show)

81. I love Muppets, Jim Hensen, all things Muppety.
82. I do not like it when people take things from my childhood (Muppets, certain cartoons, etc.) and put an 'adult' spin on them to be funny. It's painful to watch, somehow, like when an animal dies in a movie. Just leave it alone... It's. too. easy.
83. I love Disneyland. One of my favorite things to do each year is go to "Halloween Time Disney". Instant time machine - if you're too cool to act 4 years old, then you're not invited.
84. I am a Holiday Nut. I live for September - January.
85. I miss the Pirates of the Carribean before the movie came out and they changed it. (My favorite ride, however, is Haunted Mansion).
86. One of the few places I've never been anywhere near in the U.S. is New Orleans - and I've always wanted to go.
87. No one's getting to 86 - I have attended probably 100 seances!
88. The only stereotypically nerdy thing I'm into is Harry Potter. (And PS, I was into it before you were, neener neener).
89. I am one of the few people who can say that anything screwed up about me was in no way a result of my parents or my upbringing - it was from things outside my home, or myself.
90. I want a kid in a couple of years, and I really don't relate to very many mothers. This frightens me - like I'm weird, or I'll be too-specific, or something.

91. I'm noticing, lately, everywhere, that there are so many men who easily put women into the category of "lady" or "whore" ( despite the terminology they use, that's what the two categories seem to be). And most of them, I'm learning, don't know they're doing it, even think they're feminists.
92. Being a blunt person has led me to realize that, I think. It's easier to be placed as "one of the guys" by those that are okay with a blunt women, or "unladylike" to those who really aren't. I think this is bullshit.
93. One of the reasons I so love my husband - he never put me in any box.
94. One of the bedrooms in my apartment has nothing in it but several unpacked boxes.
95. We're looking for houses - something I hope happens within months. This place, though nice, was considered temporary from the beginning, so I never unpacked things like 'Quesadilla Maker' to remind myself of that.
96. My vacuum cleaner committed suicide 6 weeks ago or so, and so my house is covered in fur (Mom just lended me one.. hooray). I have 3 animals - one dog, two cats.
97. I shy away from being "cat person" or "dog person".
98. The best job I ever had was walking dogs and spending time with fat cats.
99. I want someone to show me that a person can be born & raised filfthy, stinking rich, and still be full of humility and a sense of people beyond themselves - because I think I'm a little bias.
100. I want to be rich. And humble.

I heart Rambler... Also, SNL

2009-05-08T13:35:00.001-07:00

So, my darling Rambler seems to be a little bit down in the dumps today and needs a giggle.

I heart SNL. I love it. I watch ( or record and enjoy on Sunday) every episode.

Going to Groundlings has just fueled the fire. Groundlings is one of the schools they pull SNL writers/performers out of ( like Will Ferrell, Jimmy Fallon, Will Forte, Ana Gasteyer, Phil Hartman, Chris Kattan, Jon Lovitz, Conan O'Brien, Cheri Oteri, Chris Parnell, Maya Rudolph, Kristen Wiig.... To name a few). Not to mention famous non-SNL alumni (like Jennifer Coolidge, Adam Corolla who I oddly enough do not find funny at all, Kathy Griffin, Lisa Kudrow, Pat Morita, Mindy Sterling, etc.).

(Actual school site here).

Amazingly humbling experience getting into that school & taking classes - makes you feel good and awful at the same time. Very character heavy. Some fucking amazing opportunities come out of it because alumni come back, perform, do special mini-classes... So if any of you are comedy-serious, totally worth coming out for a few weeks to take classes - people do it all the time. and Muppet is frightened to death of taking the next class because this is when it gets fucking hard.

ANYHOO.

Moral of the story is, when I'm down, SNL is one of the Viagras I choose to take.

Forgive my sudden splurge of video - so unlike me.

And this is sooooo not meant to be the collection of all-time favorites or anything, we're going with random funny.

So a few rambling snippets of SNL...

Make fun of me if you will, but I have seen this 200 times and it makes me laugh Every. Single. Time.

Forgive the Spanish Subtitles, it's the only way I could find it -

SNL - Spelling Contest - For more amazing video clips, click here

This one made me laugh a couple of weeks ago.. I'm all for random screaming.

Video Recaps | Full Episodes | Webisodes

I know these people. You can't swing a dead cat around here without hitting them.

I'm sure everyone's seen this, however without fail, the moose makes me lose it.

I, too, fear plants.

I would vote for this guy.

Unfuckingbelievable

2009-05-07T20:38:00.001-07:00

Greetings, creatures of the internet.

I heard this story (and corresponding audio) on the Howard Stern show on the way home this evening, and it left my mouth agape like a wee goldfish.

I am someone who respects police officers. I think it's ridiculous when people say "I hate (insert group)", much less when that group is someone who you expect to save your ass (and often risk theirs) when you're in trouble.

I am an equal opportunity hater - I hate individuals, not groups.

And since the position of police officer should be a noble position to take very seriously - it fucking pisses me off when someone who wears a badge shits on it, and gives it a bad name. This does not help the truly giving, hardworking officers with good natured, and yes I'll say it again, noble aspirations.

And with that, I give you the A-Hole of the week.

Let's set the scene.

A man has had brain surgery. Three weeks later, he collapses in his kitchen, unconscious, seizuring. His 17 year old daughter, Adrianne Ledesma, calls 911 in a completely understandable panic.

The appropriate response as the 911 operator, and Sergeant? Anyone?

Now for those of you who hate it when people post YouTube videos, please check this out for me anyway so we can share in the assholishness -

Prudes can kill just as easily as the morally loose, kids. Assholishness is an equal opportunity employer - it knows no race, no socioeconomic background, no sex, no job, no religious beliefs, no morals, etc. etc. etc.

I have many words for you, Sergeant Robert MacFarland. All of which are
'filthy' and 'hostile'. Let's hope that shame is within your ideas of appropriate behavior.

**PS - tomorrow I'm coming to all your blogs and checking up. Be warned.

Come with Me to Paramount Studios PII

2009-05-06T16:54:00.000-07:00

For those keeping score - holy crap a shit ton of you got it right - the building at the end of yesterday's post was indeed Top Gun.

Is it wrong that I haven't seen that movie?

Part 1.

Let's continue...

Come with me to Paramount Studios PII....

So Mr. Denny took us on a lovely walk through the 'New York' lot (which I believe also looks like Chicago in one spot, and can of course double as other metropolitan areas).

So these buildings are all fiberglass - basically, if you touch them they feel solid, but if you poke it has a bit of a give to it.

Some 'New York' shots:

I do wonder how my Irish friends' skin faired..

Anyone really familiar with "Breakfast at Tiffany's"?

This building was apparently a landmark in the film, but for the life of me I don't remember what exactly it was... The shop itself was what was important, that much I remember.

(As much of a film buff as I am, and the fact that I've seen a bajillion of them, I only saw that one once, and I'm fairly sure by the end I was having sex).

Anyone know what part of the movie the shop is from?

Hmmm...

Everyone remember the famous opening sequence to Laverne and Shirley?

::ahem::

"One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight -
Schlemeel, Schlemazel, Hassenfeffer incorporated"

(Don't cry for me - I had to look that up)

This would be where they did their thing outside -

So, all these buildings are technically just fronts.. As in, exterior shots are shot in the street, but interiors are done in the big studios from yesterday's post....

Inside the buildings, they look like this -

So Paramount was founded in 1912 - making it California-ancient.

Does everyone remember the come-with-me post from Hollywood Forever Cemetery? Well Hollywood Forever Cemetery is directly behind Paramount.

As a refresher, these were taken from the back of the cemetery -

Before Paramount came along, the cemetery went from Santa Monica Blvd (where the cemetery entrance is now), allll the way back to Melrose (where the Paramount entrance is now).

When Paramount decided to build their studios, they bought the back half of the cemetery from the owners. It wasn't the cemetery-to-the-stars it is today, and so many believe that to cut costs, they decided to just skip moving all of the bodies, and instead built right on top of the people in the back.

Mostly because of that fact, but also because of the amount of history that's taken place on those lots, people believe it to be extremely haunted.

Anyhoo. We did manage to get in a little bit to one of the big soundstages to take a picture.

In the top right hand corner up in the rafters, doesn't that look like a gray face?
(you'll probably have to enlarge).

I know it is just the wall, the wood, and a shadow.. But shhhh.... I like to believe it's a floating head.

Bright-ass lights, eh?

Denny did manage to get us into one soundstage where they had the set all set up, but there were absolutely no pictures allowed (and too many crew members milling about to try). It was definitely cool being on a set, but don't worry - it was just for some silly kiddie show I hadn't even heard of until Monday, "True Jackson, VP". It does have Greg Proops in it, though.

They were also filming Nip/Tuck. They were actually working with the actors and filming a scene when we walked by, as evidenced by the "shhhhh we're taping, fuckers!" red light.

Now, a lot of times living in Los Angeles, you will drive by a little side street where they are filming something (or G-d forbid trying to get home, they've shut down Sunset Blvd completely so you're stuck on sidestreets behind cursing residents and confused tourists going 2 mph).

The most common sight, I would say, on a set are the star wagons -

Basically they're trailers. But most of them, the 'brand' is "Star Wagons". So much so, that I cannot remember a single time of the bajillion I've driven by a set where they were not Star Wagons (when friends and I went to the set of "The Office" I was very tempted to break into one).

Oddly enough "Star Wagons" is a company owned by Lyle Waggoner who if you know him, it's probably from 'The Carol Burnett Show' ( or from one sassy episode of The Golden Girls where he fights with Sony Bono over Dorothy... sniffle).

Didn't know that until Saturday's Dearly Departed Tour - and I'm betting these wagons make him richer than anything else did.

That's Minnie's ass. I am forbidden from showing you the front (classified, you know) in the event of her rising to stardom, so enjoy that ass. And tell me, in any way would you call that ass obese to the point of not wanting to touch her? Personally, I could eat things off that ass.

There was evidence of history in every nook and cranny, like this plaque -

"OF THE 681
PARAMOUNT MEN AND WOMEN
WHO VENTURED THEIR LIVES
IN WORLD WAR II
THE FOLLOWING NAMED ELEVEN
DIED IN SERVICE.
TO RECORD OUR PRAISE
OF THEIR UNSELFISH DEVOTION
TO PRESERVE THE MEMORY
OF THEIR HEROIC SACRIFICE
TO CONFIRM THE INFLUENCE
OF THEIR HIGH EXAMPLE
THIS PLAQUE IS DEDICATED
IN THEIR HONOR."

There were also little pockets that looked just like anywhere, USA...

And of course, probably the most recognizable part of the studios - the archway that (I think) used to be the front of the studios back-in-the-day...

So we ended our tour at the Paramount Theatre...

One time I was really fancy and went to a premiere (Muppet typically does not believe in 'fancy') that happened to be at Paramount Studios.

It was the premiere of "Weeds" (which also happened to be the premiere of another show, "Barbershop"... So basically, sat through the first episode of Barbershop so that I could watch the brilliant first episode of "Weeds").

I gotta walk my first red carpet, see Mary-Louise Parker, Elizabeth Perkins, Kevin Nealon.(sidenote - before meeting Minnie, Bubba and me on Hollywood Blvd, Denny & Kali spotted Mr. Nealon, which is the weirdest of all weird places to actually see a celebrity)..

The highlight - I got to speak to Cuba Gooding, Jr. (he may not be Robert DeNiro, but he made my all-time favorite Oscar acceptance speech). His brother, Omar, was (is?) in Barbershop.

After the viewing, they had an afterparty in the New York section of the studios... I giddily got to see Ricky from My So-Called Life (Obsessed with that show, Love him - and for G-ds sake if you haven't seen it, hand me your genitals until further notice) and dance with Long-Duk-Dong of Sixteen Candles (he dances alarmingly dirty). I also got to meet an online-buddy in person, for the first time, who wrote "Saved".

Side Rant:

I think the people who have lived here for awhile, and pretend to not be excited about a celebrity-encounter, or having certain opportunities as a result of living here? They fucking suck. It's such a joke -
"I've lived in L.A. for x number of years, so it's no longer impressive to me if I saw Robert DeNiro on the street".

It really is this fake-ass act that SO many people become willing (and ridiculous) participants in - that the smugger you are, the more 'in' you must be. "Oh my.... You're so bored with it all, that must mean you're a somebody".

(Somehow by the grace of G-d I have managed to avoid these people and stick to the real ones).

Ego is a terrible, terrible thing, it usually ends up making the person screw themselves over royally and definitely makes them miss out on a lot. Me? I'm happy to piddle my pants when I see Steve Carrell in a Coffee Bean. Happy and moist.

My advice to anyone living here, ever thinking about living here, or who find themselves already in the throws of being the unimpressed douche bag (and seriously thinking the rest of us are buying it, which makes you officially sad) - take a page out of Cuba's book.

Cuba Gooding Jr. Oscar Acceptance Speech
Uploaded by Lilia44540

Let's not take ourselves too seriously, but also be thankful for the things we have. Mmmkay?

Anyhoo - I took a shit ton of pictures from inside the theatre, but the lighting wasn't photo-friendly... Here's one that came out okay - the view from standing on the stage:

The acoustics in there are amazing. We sat in the middle-back of the theatre, Denny whispered on stage and we could hear him.

Also, they have a little store/coffee bean where they sell Paramount movies.. With Denny's pass it was $4 a DVD. Mama made a killing and walked away with 15 movies! (G-d bless you Denny). I did consider letting Bubba the magnificent think I deemed it necessary to spend $300 on movies, but decided against it in the end.

That concludes our tour of paramount - everyone nice and sunburnt?

While we're still in 'come with me' mode...

Let's take advantage of my temporary overabundance of pictures, shall we, and take a vote for the next 'come with me' -

So where should we go next?

*Santa Monica Pier/beach
*City Walk ( outside of Universal Studios)
*Dearly Departed Tour
*Hollywood Blvd pre-Minnie

Votes?

*Passersby -
Once again, I am a nice lady. If you would like to use a picture, all you have to do is ask me, and then give me credit. If you cannot do these things, prepare for my wrath. That is all.

5.4

2009-05-06T15:29:00.000-07:00

Hi, kids.

Silliness this way, silliness that way, and now a little non-silly in the middle of the sandwich.

My parents met when they were in kindergarten. They lived in a part of California that was nothing but Orange groves back then - and I'm not sure how true it is, but in my head everybody knew everybody (absolutely impossible, now).

They met in kindergarten, and went through school together. My Mom was a member of an enormous Mexican family ( still there, still enormous - I never lived there, personally, but I can't I would've been able to date anyone with brown hair without consulting my family tree, thoroughly). My Dad, small family, blonde hair, blue eyes.

By the time they hit High School, my Mom was the cheerleading type, and my Dad was this weird combination of band-nerd/surfer dude, I think. I think they were totally aware of each other, just in no way involved with each other. Then when they were in college, my Dad ran into my Mom at a gas station, asked her out, and the rest, as they say, is history.

My Father was probably not like your Father.

By the time he had his PhD, he was the size of a body builder. There is a picture of him, in the 70s, where he is standing in front of what you think might be a Christmas tree because everyone looks like they're in their Christmas-finest, and yet the only thing you can see is a small, green twig slightly above his head.

He got involved in the law-enforcement arena... I'm not totally 100% sure about the timeline, but from what I've pieced together they were all the sort of jobs that A&E loves to make reality shows about.

In what was probably my smartest move - I became my Father's daughter in 82'. We lived in San Diego.

He was quite possibly the most doting, protective and supportive Fathers in the history of history of history.

People all the time say "my dad is just a big teddy bear" - I kind of think of my Father as an incredibly loving Grizzly Bear. I could see from other people's reactions that he was a bit of a professional badass, I could see that he was big, but really all I had was a cartoony Father who played with me, loved me, goofed around with me, and never once - not even for an instant, not even accidentally - made me feel anything but great about myself.

I remember once, when I was 4 - the year before we left San Diego - my parents were making dinner, and I decided I should cook something. An appetizer, if you will. My Mother had pealed garlic and chopped some onions extra-fine - so I took the Garlic peals, put a little bit of onion in each leaf, and then dumped salt on top of them until it looked just like a spoonful of salt. I did this all on a paper plate, which I then proudly served my Father. He proceeded to eat every single one, all the while exclaiming how wonderful it was, and I swear to G-d, not once did his face even crack.

The CIA recruited him when we were still in SD - so we moved to D.C. the summer before I started kindergarten.

When we pulled up to our house, I saw a squirrel and said "We have a squirrel! Let's call him Max!" My entire life whenever moving came up, he told that story.

He taught me to ride a bike, he took me to shoot hoops, my parents made sure I went to every museum. When they figured out I was artsy-fartsy, it didn't give them pause - they were just as excited as they would've been if I had shown an aptitude for biogenetics.

He listened to my piano practice, oohed and aahed over every drawing, and made sure I had the bravery to audition for whatever play or acting program I wanted to be a part of.

I could never do 'take your daughter to work day', sadly...

We moved to Mexico City when I was going into the 6th grade. He had a really great offer if he agreed to move overseas for 3 years - plus he would be able to retire early. It would put us there until I was in High School - my sister was an adult at this point, so he made sure that I was okay with going (since she had the option not to) and that my Mom was before he agreed to anything. We were okay with it - maybe even excited.

Not to get into too much detail here ( it's a whole post into itself), but when I was in 7th grade, from what we can put together, someone found out what my Dad's profession was. To scare him, they had someone break into our house ( which was up a hill, with a security alarm and surrounded in a 20 foot wall with barbwire at the top). Instead of stealing expensive stuff, they stole only my goodies, and the pictures of me from out of frames.

This & a few other things ( whooole other post) made us leave early. The few remaining months we were there, my Dad had armed cars following my bus to school, not to mention armed gentleman following me ( without my knowing), and videotaping my football games, for example, ( I was a cheerleader) to see if there were any suspicious characters.

He made sure I didn't feel funny. I knew about the police cars behind the bus, obviously - but for the 24/7 coverage, I had no idea. He wanted me to feel as normal as humanly possible.. I even went on a whale watching trip with the 7th grade class, and the men following me went so far as to use a speedboat to stay behind me. I never knew any of this until I was a teenager.

After we left Mexico, we moved back into our old house and I started 8th grade.

I remember distinctly being the only girl I knew who was not only not ashamed of her Dad, but proud of him. Most of my friends were in awe of him to some degree (like I said, he was not like most Dads, and I'm not even just saying that because I'm his daughter).

There was a terrible blizzard that year - we were snowed in for 6 days, and the 3 ladies of the house all started their period. My Dad had to bundle up, walk 3/4 of a mile to the grocery store and sequester tampons. Somewhere there is a picture of him walking back up the driveway with the one sad bag of tampons.

My Dad was experiencing some chest pain - especially when he was outside, leaf-blowing - and so they took him to a Doctor.

I remember distinctly, I was hanging out with my boyfriend, Beaker, and I had gotten home late. My Dad was supposed to be getting a routine biopsy - they had seen some shadow or something on an MRI, and decided just to poke around, take a bit of it ( if there was anything) out, and he would be home the next day.

When I ran in the door thinking I was busted, my parents weren't home and there was a message on the answering machine to call Mom. Turned out when they opened my Dad up, they found a 9 pound tumor the size of a basketball wedged between his lungs and his heart. They obviously had to take it out right away - so a routine biopsy quickly turned into major surgery, removing a tumor and part of one of his lungs which had been crushed. He was in the hospital 2 weeks, if I remember correctly, and they stopped counting his staples after 100.

But, believe it or not, after a little while he was fine, and a couple of months later he was back to his usual tricks.

When I was in High School he taught me to drive ( my Mom would've had a heart attack, for sure). He even took me into a private driving area to teach me how to do 360's. He helped talk my Mom into matching me dollar for dollar so I could get a car when I was 16 - a silver honda, which amazingly enough I still drive.

He was also really effing funny. REALLY funny. Goofy-funny. He thoroughly enjoyed torturing every boy who wanted to date me...

Despite being open-minded, non-religious, fairly-accepting people, and despite my being a hippie today, I grew up with guns in the house. He had to have one with him at all times - he wore a holster to the grocery store. Seeing the holster on a sizeable was sufficient enough to torment every boy that came into my house.

He had also been given two really expensive Stetson hats from someone. Anytime I had a date, he would threaten to put on a Stetson, some cowboy boots, and some old flourescent swim trunks he had leftover from the 80s.

He got sick once more, when I was in High School, but it was a quick blip that resolved itself.

He didn't get really sick until the year after I went away to college. When he was sick before, he had always gotten 'experimental' forms of chemo. ( He had Sarcoma ). Once I was in college, he had to do some pretty tough rounds of 'traditional' chemo. He started losing weight and hair, and sometimes had to use an oxegyn tank (we later learned that . I was halfway done with my second year of college and I decided to be home.

That Christmas he was too sick to travel. By Spring, he seemed completely normal, almost. He had to drive up to a big fancy hospital once a month so they could run some tests, but he was making jokes, he was much more physically active than he had been in a long time. I think it was April of 03 when they told us he would have a year, maybe a little bit more.

On May 2nd, he went into the hospital just to get some bloodtests. He and my Mom were halfway home and eating at a restaurant when they called to say something was off, and he needed to check back into the hospital just as a safety precaution.

I called him ( the hospital was far away from us) and he told me he was fine, and he sounded fine. He said it was just a precaution that they had to do, and even the Doctor admitted that it was sort of a waste of time.

By the night, it was necessary for my sister and I ( and my friend, who I was getting ready to go out with, came too) to drive up. Saturday morning they said he would be fine. Saturday afternoon, he suddenly got much much worse, and family started to fly out. Sunday afternoon, he died with all of us in the room. It was my Mother's birthday (May 4th).

For anybody who hasn't lost anybody, or what have you - I will say this.. I've known a few people who have died... I am in no way religious but very spiritual ( again - I believe in G-d, just not mans ability to interpret Him). Every single time someone has died, including my Father, they have said or done something right towards the end that indicates there's something beyond just us. Just saying.

I'm not even sure why I'm writing this, to tell you the truth. I was fine on Monday - which was the 6 year anniversary of his passing. That's when we went to Paramount - maybe I was a little withdrawn, but it was really just like any other day.

The strange thing is, losing a parent young is this whole subculture unto itself. And then that subculture is just an umbrella for other teeny, tiny subcultures. ( For example, I lost my Dad when I was 21 - this makes me feel different than people who lost them at 30, or people who lost them at 4, or people who lost parents that they didn't love... We're all under the same heading but have had very, very different experiences).

People understand, people have an amazing ability to take someone's horror and imagine it for themselves, which creates empathy. And I know from being in the presence of my friends when they've had a couple of wine glasses or when they catch me at a very rare moment, that they understand and feel pretty fucking awful that I lost who I did, this amazing, amazing man, when I was so not ready to lose him.

But it is a club, isn't it? It's like the world has this giant wall running as a divider - people who have lost a parent, people who have not. At one point I was on the other side of that wall, but now I'm not. And I can never go back. Mostly everyone will have to eventually climb over that wall, and they know people there and can get a sense of it, but they won't really be able to see until they're there. And then they'll never be able to unsee.

(and since we're being totally fucking depressing here for a moment - even having lost someone that I was as close to as my Dad, I still can only imagine the side where people have lost spouses, or where people have lost children. I know a loss is a loss, but I also know my snap instinct when on the rare occasion I talk about his death, someone will say "oh, I lost a friend once" or my personal favorite "oh, my parents got divorced").

Even though I'm being a total downer at this particular moment.. Don't worry, I'm fine. I'm as fine as a person can be. I have a happy life, and in 21 years I got more love out of my Father than most people experience in a lifetime. I can now even go days without thinking about him, even though the presence of things is still obviously there.

I also thoroughly believe that something - the universe, G-d, maybe my Father himself - sent me Mr. Bub as a result. Mr. Bub lost his Father at almost exactly ( we're talking year, month, day) the same time in his life that I did mine, and he was the first person who told me 'it'll be okay' who I, in all my cynicism, could actually believe.

So I am okay, and life moves on. People have losses. I had a fantastic model for a parent, and despite being in the lost-a-parent group, I am in the very small group of people who had a fantastic marriage-model. Things happen for a reason, things continually try to balance themselves out, etc. etc.

But I equate it, almost, with being an amputee. You lose your leg, you mourn the loss, you learn to live your life without it and eventually find happiness again. You might even reach your ultimate amazing destiny as a result of having that experience. But 6 years doesn't make the loss any less great, even when you're not thinking about it, the loss is still there. Basically, even the happiest person on Earth is still going to have a bad day where they look down and think "I want my fucking leg".

That's the end of my long, sad ramble. I will quickly continue with the silly.

Basically, I miss him.

Come With Me, PI

2009-05-05T23:36:00.000-07:00

Hello there, Daisies and Dukes.

I have missed you in the nerdiest of ways.

Miss Minnie departed via LAX yesterday - sob - and Miss Muppet is left to her lonesome, exhausted and lobster-colored (me thinks the sun enjoys my Welsh skin a bit too much).

In 4 days: The beach, Santa Monica Pier, the Promenade, the Dearly Departed Tour, the Grove, Hollywood Blvd, City walk/Universal Studios, a moooovie, a Denny-is-fancy tour of Paramount studios, a smidgen of Hollywood Forever Cemetery and a few restaurants.

Twas fun and she will be missed... Must not focus on the sad. (Ask me what I did today, other than this?...... Nothing. It was Glorious.).

This morning I downloaded 300-some-odd pictures from the trip... So even though it's moving backwards (we did this yesterday), it was my first time so I don't want to forget anything..

And Denny - my love! I will inevitably get something wrong, so correct me if I have, my pet... I'm assuming you'll see this post just to make sure there are no pictures of your nipples.

So come with me on our Spontaneous trip to New York....

Just kidding. We did not go to New York. That is fiber glass. You can, however -

Come With Me (us) to Paramount Studios, PI....

So Mr. Denny worked at Paramount Studios for a couple of years before quitting to pursue acting full time. Somehow, however, he still has a pass to get in - and thus, on Minnie's last day, he took us on a tour of the place. G-d love him.

Kids, reacquaint yourselves with the ever-popular Denny..

So early in the morning, we pulled up to a super fancy guard post on Melrose in my super unfancy car... Denny flashed his shit (ooh, part of me wants to edit that, yet... nope, not gonna) and we got in. The guard post looked much like this one:

So upon entering, we park the car. The parking lot? Already interesting.

On one side, the sky. Not the actual one - they actually have that everywhere - but a giant fake one.

This backdrop has been used in a gajillion Paramount movies - the only example that immediately comes to mind is "The Truman Show". Remember? That scene where Truman steals a boat, finally escapes, and somewhat to his surprise he can touch the sky? That's the sky.

But wait! You say... There was water, real water, in that.... Well, notice how in the top picture, the asphalt is black and there seems to be a lower level. The lower level is blue, like this -

- well they flood that when need be. Hopefully after people move their cars.

On the other side of the parking lot, these cute little house-like things. Apparently they were used in "Little House on the Prairie" - a lot of it was shot where the asphalt now is.

Alright, so we walk towards the sky ( I think) and the main walkable-drag in front of where things really start to get interesting looks like this...

....If I had turned 180 degrees from this spot, and taken another picture, I believe it would've looked similar. Those buildings are rentable offices (think), and at one end they have a commissary (an expensive one) and a Coffee Bean (hell yeah pusetas)/Paramount goodie shop.

Let's begin the Denny tour. So... He stopped by and introduced us to a couple of his friends, grabbed a pass, and off we went. ( Forgive me, people who don't-give-a-shit-about-Hollywood, I know a lot of these buildings look similar... Focus on the history).

The soundtages, stages, studios, whatchamacallems, look pretty much like this:

Paramount is the only studio that has a view of the Hollywood sign (that's old school Hollywood, baby).

Each stage has a number -

And it would seem that each stage has a sign around it somewhere, like this one -

- with a list of movies/tv shows that were filmed in that building.

Also? Outside of a lot of stages there are strapping young men building things/putting things together.

So, my favorite part... Paramount Studios is where Desilu Productions (I love Lucy, kids) used to be. Everywhere we went, there were little traces.

For example, apparently when Lucy & Desi had their kids, they had the daycare center (which is in the middle of all of this) put in -

- right underneath Lucy's office window.

(They defiled that piece of history, fyi, by later letting Tom Cruise use it as his office.)

They also built a street perpendicular to her office that was specifically designed to look like the street she grew up on. I think it had something to do with interviews, having a photo-op for the 'street where Lucy grew up'.

The lawn in front of that was also designed to look exactly like the backyard of Lucy & Desi's home, so that there could be photos for stories without having to bring reporters into their house all the time.

Next to that little street is a building that looks like a school, see if you can recognize it from any classic shows -

Anyone?

Well, it was the school from Happy Days. Also, from The Brady Bunch. One of the boys (I wanna say Peter) got caught smoking a little to the left of the frame of this picture (which is also the Lucy-lawn).

A little ways away, apparently while Lucy & Desi's kids were hanging around the studios a lot, Lucy had a little outdoor pond put in -

- which now houses koi. (Denny + koi seems to be a theme around here).

Around that area, there's also evidence of another classic TV show -

"Ted Danson" (under hands). "Woody Harrelson was here! 11/12/89 (naked)".

(Believe it or not that was the best I could fuck with the picture. It was really bright, as evidenced by my baboons-ass skin).

So we mozied on over to a little snack shop. In front of it, a great view of the water tower -

... And inside, was Denny's autograph on the wall in anticipation of his inevitable fanciness.

Can anyone spot Denny?

Some quick studios, and what was filmed there -

Stage 28:
The Godfather Part II (1974)
The Great Gatsby (1974)
Entertainment Tonight (since 1981).

Stage 25:
The Lucy Show (1962-1968)
Bosom Buddies (1980-1982)
Cheers (1982-1993)
Frasier (1993-2004).

Stage 5: A shit-ton, but some highlights -

Road to Rio (1947)
The Man who Knew too much (1956)
Vertigo (1958)
The Nutty Professor (1963)
The Graduate (1967)
Rosemary's Baby (1968)
The Brady Bunch (1969-1974)
Mommie Dearest (1981)
Star Trek V, VI, & IX
Bonfire of the Vanities (1990)
Patriot Games (1992)
The Brady Bunch Movie (1995)
Primal Fear (1996)
Angel (1999-2004)
Mulholland Drive (2001).

We'll move on to part II (fake New York, the inside of a soundstage, the inside of those fiberglass buildings, etc. etc.) tomorrow... In the meantime...

I'm fairly sure that I am one of the few girls who has not seen this movie (much less a million times, which is what seems to be the norm)...

It was 1986. It was a big-to-do movie. It starred the hunk of the time. Planes were involved. This building (which is now the medical facility for the studios) was used as the exterior of the leading lady's condo. ( The leading lady's name in real life, by the by, is Kelly).

What movie was it?

**Passersby -
if you would like to use a photo, all you have to do is ask me, then credit me. I am easy... in so many ways... However, using them without my permission will result in my wrath. Be forwarned.

You There.... Peeping Tom!

2009-04-30T18:31:00.000-07:00

Bon Jour, mis frijoles.

(Notice how I mixed it up, there? I'm so... international).

I have one of those fancy stat counter things. (shut up... it is too fancy). I avoid going on, but today I ventured for the first time in a few weeks and I am perplexed.

Perplexed.

There are more people than I am aware of, apparently.

...and they all come from weird places.

"2 entries, 5 minutes each, Jupiter"
"1 entry, 30 seconds, up my own ass, wisconsin"
"3 entries, 4 minutes each, newcastlesurreyspashirelichtensteinlondonhamspenis, UK".

A few months ago, I enjoyed an entry someone wrote about 'lurkers'. I mentioned it on here, but thought "oh... I'd know if I had any of those".

I figured it was like crabs. Herpes. There would be physical evidence.

As far as I can tell, being someone who looks at this thing like a confusing typewriter running on pixie dust, I have some.

So... I'm going to be partaking in Minnie fun....

(Can you feel her? She's in the sky.... Typically rodents don't fly unless you count bats).

....this means I'm going to have some fun-reading day after this weekend. So even though I might throw up an entry this weekend while she's here.....

Dear Lurkers,

I was hoping, perhaps, in the next few days, in just this one entry, you could identify yourselves?

Just this once. Then you can creep back into the shadows.

Listen... you and me? We're one in the same... there's no reason to be ashamed. I enjoy catching people naked and off guard - it makes for the best wobbly bits. I lurk on a couple of blogs, even - one I am convinced hates my guts (therefor I lurk)... The other, I seriously dislike their writing/personality ( hence the lurking - I'm not mean, I just have opinions) but am sticking around to figure out why she's so popular. Sort of like my experience with Twilight.

I get it. I do. It's a commitment, putting yourself out there. I will let you watch me virtually bathe. I will trim the bush outside of my windows. I will trim my bush.

Think of this as a blog brothel... If you go in and say "hey, I want to peep on you", the lady of the evening will get into it way more than if she just found you in the bushes.

Not that I would know, or anything.

So come forward, dear lurkers.. Come forth from the shadows. Just long enough for me to see who I'm shaving my legs for.

Kisses!
Muppet

An Electricity in the Air....

2009-04-30T02:46:00.000-07:00

Minnie is coming, Minnie is coming!

My apartment is a mess and I have zero intentions of cleaning it as my vacuum cleaner has long since committed suicide....

But Minnie is coming!

Plans:

Friday: Beach day
Saturday: Hollywood Blvd/ Dearly Departed Tour (yay! I get to go again!)
Sunday: Possibly Universal Studios, breakfast with local friends (or possibly nearly dead from exhaustion)
Monday: Denny may be taking her to Paramount Studios (his former place of employment) for a tour, or we may just do whatever we couldn't fit in the first few days.

Hazzah!
Minnie apparently called her mom about the trip:

Minnie: I'm going to see *****.
Mom (with strangely Austin Powers British accent): Are you sure it is such a good idea to be staying with ***** at such a time?
Minnie: EVERY FABULOUS PIECE OF RELATIONSHIP ADVICE I HAVE EVER GIVEN YOU HAS COME FROM *****.
Mom: well okay then.

Why do Mothers hate me, I say? Is it because she knows I'm going to do anything to get Minnie laid, like hire a man whore or sell her into a ring of high class prostitutes? Chain her to a bed to keep her away from that naughty, naughty husband of hers? Or is it just because she wrongly thinks I was a bad, bad girl in High School and does not realize I am now 27?

Hmmm...

It does feel a bit like I've gotten a friend to escape from Jonestown, however briefly... Only so much time to deprogram.

Do not fear blog friends, I will still be around during her visit... Taking pictures, posting.. And I just finished part 2 of the previous dating story to post during a busy day.

(If you didn't read the first part of the Ricky story, click here, otherwise you will have no idea what the fuck I'm talking about and be stripped of your genitals for blog treason).

By this time tomorrow, I will have slowed the car down in front of LAX long enough for her to jump in possibly wearing a pig mask, and she will be sleeping someplace odd in my apartment.

Hooray!

Muppet's Dating History Part 8

2009-04-29T14:07:00.000-07:00

Good day, my little kumquats.

If anyone is new, at this point... I am painstakingly going through my entire humiliating dating history, names of the satisfied and dissatisfied changed.

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7

We are now on Part 8 and at this point in our story, I am only 16 - which is where it all starts to get a little crazy - which leads me to believe we'll all be old and gray by the time we get to Bubba.

Now where were we? Ah yes....

Muppet's Dating History Part 8
Rebound/Whath is upfff PI - 1998

So where did we last leave off....

Ah yes. Beaker. Forgive me, for these two boys overlap (though not in any physical sense).

I had entered into a relationship with Beaker in the 8th grade, prior to which I had only pet-above-the-clothes. Beaker and I proceeded to round every base. By 10th grade, we were fighting consistently, going to different schools, but still clinging to each other probably because of the sex. In between having my first love, and being flung back into single land sexually wiser, enter...

Ricky

In 10th grade I started my shift from popular bitchy girl ( who secretly didn't quite fit in, so made up for it with purposeful sass & extra bitchiness) to drama geek.

I entered into the big-kids drama class in the 10th grade, and made friends with the older drama kids, and discovered silliness. Popular kids? Not that funny. Some of these drama kids? FUNNY.

Somewhere around this time, I acknowledged and fully embraced my lifelong love affair with funny. Humor is my fucking addiction.

And in my school at least, some of the drama kids were... the MOST popular - they were just a different sort of popular, a quieter, cooler popular - completely different breed then the cheerleading, football, bitchy, your-shit-don't-stink popular I was accustomed to.

When I was in 10th grade, Jonah moved to town. He was 2 years older than me and fucking hysterical.

He got permission to start an improv team at our school through our drama department, and held auditions a few months before the end of my relationship with Beaker. In compromise of the carefully crafted 'normal' popular exterior I had honed, I gave into my secret real self (nerd) and went to the audition. I made it.

(Incidentally.. Jonah - that's his real name - is a fabu gay opera singer who could make a cold hearted bitch cry he's so good, and I so wish I lived closer to him. His blog is here.)

Anyhoo, after the auditions, Jonah picked 5 people to be part of 'the team', and a few alternates.

I had instant love for 'my team'. They were all a little older - and I somehow didn't know they existed until the improv thing came up. But they were all hysterical, easy to be around, and did I mention, fucking hysterical.

In the beginning, I was a little standoffish because I thought they wouldn't like me. Turns out, at least some of them, were wondering what the fuck a person like me was doing hanging out in drama nerd land. Eventually, once we established I was nerdy and they weren't judgy, they became like a family. Second skin.

Teammates - Minnie ( hooray), 'Hope' (still a friend - lives here now), Jonah, myself, and Ricky.

Ricky was all the time, 24/7, fucking funny. He made everyone laugh. And he was one of those freakish breeds that was one part drama nerd, one part very popular.

He had blonde hair, blue eyes, was fairly tall, ( well, I'm 5 ft 2 so what does that mean - let's see, 5 ft 10?), very cute.

His particular brand of funny was big ball of energy funny. Think Adam Sandler mixed with Chris Farley ( not that I'm comparing him to them, but you know, that kind of funny). He could make anyone laugh - so goofy. He was also best friends with one of the demigods of our school, and one of my favorite people, Jay (it feels wrong to change his name).

Jay and Ricky threw the best older-kid parties (which I did not have access to yet) and were fucking hilarious.

I have found, later in my life, that a lot of times when guys are that funny (as in loud funny, not witty-funny, Chris Farley funny) they're usually assholes. Not true with Ricky. Ricky was loud funny and sweet.

I flirted with him mercilessly.

Throughout the last few months of my relationship with Beaker, I in no way acknowledged my crush on Ricky to myself.

I did, however, wear skin-tight pants I'd have to lay down to zip up, and shirts that if I purposely leaned forward at just the right moment, you could possibly see the beginnings of a nipple. ( I call it hooker chic).

I also touched him as much as possible, and whenever we would do 'scenes' I would make sure there were reasons for our characters to be involved with each other, or otherwise sexually pervy. I looked forward more to the five minutes I might catch Ricky in the hall than I did any phone call or date with Beaker.

Ricky was my first real experience with pheremones, I think. Sure, Beaker was my first love and he totally turned me on... But Ricky was the first guy where I had close to no control. There was something about him, something in his smell or his skin or the way he talked, something, that made me physically... moist... standing within 5 feet of him. I wanted to climb him like a spider monkey, bite him like a tiger.

I'm pretty sure I would've most literally eaten him if I had the chance.

But, like I said, I did not admit this to myself out loud or even in my head.. But it was there.

I should also mention that around a month before Beaker & I broke up, I started hanging out with this super-loud, very fun to be around, drama-popular girl named 'Emily'. Mentally file that away for later on.

Anyhoo, I remember one day Ricky told me I was sexy. I remember another day, after our improv practice there were just two minutes where we were alone - and he was two inches away from my face, really quiet, and his face went still. Never being one for infidelity, it took every ounce of self control I had not to... You know, gnaw on him.

Then Beaker dumped me.

Within a few hours, I was on the computer, feeling sad for myself, but perked up instantly when I saw Ricky was online. I told him Beaker & I had broken up (never good to use the word 'dumped' when dealing with a prospective new partner) and he said something along the lines of 'maybe we can hang out now, and I can cheer you up'.

Hell ya, baby.

The flirting intensified, and he asked me out on a date... I, of course, said yes.

I could not wait to fucking tear him to shreds.

We decided on a movie or something... A few hours before we were set to go out, either Hope or Jonah called me... They were doing something, maybe going out, and did Ricky and I want to come?

So I called Ricky... I have no fucking idea why I didn't just say "no no, we're going to get it on", but I didn't... I wanted to get Ricky's take on it, and I desperately was also working on Jonah & Hope liking me. Ricky said 'sure, sure.. I'll pick you up, we'll meet them'.

So he came to my house. My. House.... I remember he smelled so fucking good. I remember his car - even though it was nothing special - seemed super-hot. (In my head, it's like a camaro, or something).

I remember I was sitting in the passenger seat in yet another second-skin-tight ensemble, thinking "this guy is going to be a fucking hot boyfriend, this guy is going to be a fucking hot boyfriend".

"I never met a girl like you before" was playing on his radio. That's what I remember the most distinctly. (ohh.. Totally forgot that song. Remember that song? Loved that fucking song).

He smelled like the awesomest of colognes. It was pouring rain and I wanted to get to the part after the date where we made out. That song could make anyone feel sexy. He put his hand on my leg and I thought I was going to have an orgasm from the contact.

To be continued...

8

2009-04-27T23:06:00.001-07:00

Minnie is coming, Minnie is coming, Minnie is coming!

(If you have no idea what I'm talking about, click here for a long ass story of my sexy sexless friend).

She arrives Thursday evening and will be staying with me until Monday evening... Not long, but perhaps long enough to give her some relaxation and as a result, clarity.

We will be going to the beach, Hollywood Blvd, mayhaps Universal Studios, and either the Dearly Departed Tour (Love it! and have only done it once, ran by guy who does my morbid obsession - findadeath.com).

So excited. Prepare for stories.

******

I never do these, but....

How can I resist the lovely Rambler?

Some useless tidbits about the soul of this particular Muppet...

8 Things I'm Looking Forward To:

*Potentially buying a house this year ( you better still have those fingers crossed.. I'm watching you), not sharing walls with anyone, being able to fix things up our way, etc.

*Immediate future: Minnie's visit

*Finishing a novel, a few novels while I'm at it

*Eventually spawning mini-muppets, and being one of those odd mommies

*Along the lines of finishing a novel, having a fucking CAREER that I enjoy would be loverly

*Going back to school

*Losing weight... sometime this year, anyhow... General healthiness - eating better, excercising more, etc. etc.

*Traveling. After house and getting the few things we don't already have to fill said house, this would be the financial priority, I say.

8 Things I did Yesterday:

*Spent about an hour searching for free tickets to Renaissance Fair, only to determine they had accidentally been tossed

*After realizing Renaissance Fair was not in the cards, debating with Bub over whether to go to a movie, go to dinner, go to a park...

*Decided on movie-night, then went to Best Buy - purchased "The Reader", "The Skeleton Key" ($4!), and a horror movie that's name escapes me.

*Went to Coffee Bean ( surprise!)

*Went to grocery store

*Had sex

*Made bratwurst, macaroni, corn on the cob for dinner

*Watched "The Reader"... Twas very good

8 Things I wish I could do

*Evict my fucking moronic neighbors. Sweet older guy is fine - his two sons? fucking MORONS. Talk about wanting to teabag people with their own balls. They are very impressed with their ability to turn 21.

Fucking assmuncher butthole 'oh this isn't as cool as Florida' 'well really? THEN GO BACK' woody woodpecker cackling impressed with their one night in jail for a DUI dumbasses. Sit and spin you wannabe mother fucker, sit and mother fucking spin.

*Magically acquire a regular writing job - now

*Resurrect my Father (heavy, I know, but it's gotta be on)

*Cure diabetes ( skinny boy with no family history gets type 1 diabetes - what?). Do the other diseases, while I'm at it.

*Snap my fingers and be 110 lbs

*Snap my fingers and make equality - for everybody - happen; make the more extreme idiots see straight; no more environmental issues; solve financial crisis; General World Peace.

*Never have to worry about money again - me & Bub & loved ones.

*Be one of those fancy bicoastal people - live here, live in NYC

8 Shows I watch

Current -

*Paranormal State
*Ghost Hunters
*The Office
*SNL
*Dateline (please, G-d, please bring Predator back)

Forever-kind-of-love -

*Six Feet Under (My most favorite of shows - if you haven't seen it, and you never take another suggestion from me ever again - RENT IT).
*Golden Girls
*Friends (the last good sitcom?)
*Roseanne

Okay that was nine, I couldn't help myself...

8 Blogs to tag:

1. A Wanderer's Wares
2. Love, Shannon
3. the lifestyles of sevi.
4. The Solitary Panda
5. Well okay, Sassy Britches!
6. Little Woman, Little Home
7. Life in the Grateful House
8. Sex Education's Perfect Example

I chose randomly because I do not know how these things work - but really, I tag all of you - if ya wants to do it, I'll add ya to the list (which is secretly titled "people I will injure if they don't follow orders").

RIP

2009-04-26T18:55:00.000-07:00

Sad weekend, kids...

Bea Arthur, who was 86, died peacefully in her home on Saturday here in Los Angeles. Her family spokesperson said that she had been battling cancer, but declined to give further details.

I am heartbroken, heartbroken, heartbroken.

I love Bea Arthur.

Actually, my real true forever-kind-of-love lies with the Golden Girls. (Of course, some of you may know her from her Broadway roles, or of course, as Maude).

But oh, the Golden Girls. Golden Girls, in my mind, is completely intertwined with my childhood, the 80s... I record it every night, know every episode, and could possibly recite every line from every episode.

Love. Love in a way I cannot explain. I want to be a sassy old lady in Miami, living it up with my friends.

And Dorothy? My favorite. My favorite, my favorite, my favorite.

This is the second Golden Girl the world has lost in less than a year... Estelle Getty (Sophia) died last July, on my anniversary, no less - leaving only Rue McClanahan (Blanche) and Betty White (Rose).

My strange love for this show is well known among the people who know me in real life. A couple of years ago, my friend gloriously drew my attention to an event in L.A. she thought I would enjoy, so we attended. It was an art show opening that dealt strictly with nude/naughty paintings of the Golden Girls called "Golden Gals gone Wild". It... was... Glorious.

I came home with a print of Rose in a dominatrix/Gestapo ensemble.

(To see more paintings click here).

Being that I shout my love from the rooftops, I have found out about both deaths from the sudden barrage of test messages from people.

It's just so sad... To me, it sort of means the slow death of everything that was cool about the 80s and the 90s. The things we loved and that made those decades awesome are slowly creeping further away, and now we're losing people

Ohh, to have a time machine.

So Rest In Peace, Bea Arthur. You made me laugh.

Muppet on Porn

2009-04-25T11:30:00.000-07:00

Hi, Fuckers.

(A little hostile, yes - but as I stated before, I feel funny not starting out with 'hello', so I'm striving to mix it up everyday).

Go with me on this -

Anyone remember me saying the more time I spend on 20sb, the sillier it seems?

I continue to be a member of 20sb - which for those of you who don't know, is just a simple little social networking site for 20-something bloggers with profiles, blog links, and a forum. Reason being - many of my blog obsessions I have either found or have found me using the site. (And the people who run the site do a lovely job).

But oh my G-d... Some of the forums topics...

Muppet avoids forums because they're usually hateful. You know what I'm talking about - some asshole, sitting in his bunny slippers writes some hideous insult and cackles to himself over the internet power he has. This makes me simultaneously want to laugh, and make the guy teabag himself with his own balls.

However, on 20sb - the main way, it would seem, to find people or get a sense of them is by occasionally participating in the forums. So I do.

There's not any hateful comments (though, unavoidably, some argumentative) and nobody calling anyone 'fag' ( vomit - why is this the word of choice for people with no in-real-life power?)... There are, however, numerous forum discussions that make me want to teabag people with their own genitals.

A few examples, which I will inevitably vent about at a later date:

*In the new mall-cop Seth Rogen movie, his character has sex with this girl who is half asleep, and says to him 'don't stop, fucker' or something. 20sb commenters ( none of whom had seen the movie) are enraged - the movie makes a mockery of rape and sexual assault. We should all boycott. Most of these people are ready to prepare torches and battering rams to storm Rogen's castle.

*There was a discussion on not having sex before marriage. I will have to write about this later.... Let's just say, way too many people, in my humble opinion, made it seem as though if you marry someone you haven't slept with, your sex life will instantly be a hot, steamy, bodice-ripping romance novel devoid of any sexual issues. It's a fabulous idea, despite what you might say if it was your friend about to take the sexless plunge.

Anyhoo - the forum topic we're discussing today, kids, is Porn.

Dunnn.. Dunnn.. DUNNNN.

I was reminded of it, searching for a part time job and coming across a craigslist ad - "become a web cam girl". $30 an hour - not too shabby. If only I wasn't married or flabby, and was, well, looser.

A girl, in her early 20s, had a husband who was a marine. From what I gather, he was home from over seas, had gotten used to viewing porn, and she was outraged - wanted porn banned from her house. So she started a topic to get opinions.

Floreta, you're with me on this, right? It was absolutely insane to me the number of women who were just as anti-porn. I would say.. what... 4 out of 5 women had some horrible thing to say about porn, erotica - whatever, the sex industry. Then the 5th one - including myself - would say, basically "umm... I kinda like it?"

TRAITOR.

Now before you get all firey on me and sign up as one of the 4 out of 5, let's put some qualifiers on this, shall we?

1. Said porn depicts sex between 2 ( or 3, or 18) consenting human adults.

2. Said porn is watched in healthy doses (like a spice.. Occasionally, whether that means weekly, monthly, or less - it's not daily, and it's not a necessity. The cumin of your sex life, not the salt).

3. Said porn is used to get yourself off in the privacy of your own home ( as I said on 20sb, if a guy wants to jack off in dairy queen - run), or to be used with your partner at home.

So basically, of course, my lovelies. That ex-boyfriend you had who paid $100 a day to watch chicken sex, chicken sex where the chicken is clearly just doing it to pay it's crack bills, got caught watching it on his ipod at the gym, went legally blind from staring at his laptop and could not perform unless you were wearing a chicken costume... No, my dears, we're not talking about that guy.

I occasionally dig some porn. Bub occasionally digs some porn. Occasionally we dig some porn together.

It's like anything else... If you do it in moderation, I think it's fine - it can even be great.

My points:

1). Sure there are incidents where women go into porn for bad reasons. I'm pro-woman. I am a woman. I'm a woman familiar with sexual assault, I even worked at a rape center. The snuffier stuff with unwilling participants - that needs to stop. We're not talking about that.

I live next to the Valley. For those of you unfamiliar, 90-some-odd percent of porn that is distributed in the USA comes from the Valley, porn capital of the world. You go to a grocery store a few times, get your gas pumped, you will see someone who is involved in porn. A few months ago, in the Valley, I almost ran over a woman illegally crossing the street whose breasts were on one side of Ventura Blvd while she was still on the other.

Most of the current porn people live there. Let me assure you, as hard as it may be for you or I to grasp, for most of these women - this is a career goal. This is just as good as being Nicole Kidman. Have you ever watched the Porn Awards? They dress up, accept and cry over awards like it was the Oscars. They take every opportunity to shout from the rooftops "There is nothing wrong with me! I WANT to be doing this!" And we don't have to get that - but it doesn't make it any less true.

And of course that can't be everyone - but I'm just saying, the porn industry is not what it was 10, 20, 30, 40 years ago.. They take this shit seriously.

2). I would be more than a little hesitant to attempt to control my partner's masturbation.

To turn to your partner, and say "this is how, when, and where I want you masturbating" (remember our qualifiers, people) is a little.. much. ( Don't get me started on the ones who don't think their partner should be masturbating at all.)

That's your fantasy life. I feel sorry for women who stop masturbating out of a sense of obligation once they hook up with someone (nevermind the ones who don't masturbate, period). Or when they do, they feel like they can, should, whatever - only think about their partner.

Sure, think about your partner - but throw Johnny Depp in every once awhile. Who does it hurt? I am confident that with no serious delusional history, this will not result in you throwing your partner to the curb and anticipating a real relationship with Johnny Depp.

I'm fairly certain that if I said to my husband, "hey, by the by, sometimes I think about Brad Pitt when I'm masturbating", more than likely he'll just roll his eyes. So if he were to tell me "hey, sometimes I think about anjelina jolie", I'm really not going to jump up wielding a knife and demand he stop jerking off.

But saying to your partner ( remember qualifiers) "you are NOT allowed to look at porn" when they occasionally do it, is just saying "You can only share certain parts of your sexuality with me, others you must hide like filfthy secrets".

3). Of course if you're in a partnership and it really makes you uncomfortable, you can have some groundrules.

But again, I just think it's unwise to attempt to control or stop a person's fantasy life.

If they're doing it to much or fit the description of the chicken man - obviously get the hell out.

But if it's the healthy amount and it still makes you uncomfortable.. For fucks sake, compromise.

Try watching it with them. Or if you don't like that it's always Jenna Jameson and that makes you jealous, then tell them to mix it up.

But if it's that you don't like porn period, they do, and you're both unwilling to compromise.. Then just leave. Sexual incompatibility, as it were.

4). It's absolutely an unrealistic portrayal of women. Agreed.

I have big boobs - but in exchange for them, I also have a sizeable ass and a little more heat in the winter than I need. I got my insecurities.

Evidentally, money, a scalpel and a desire to be in the adult entertainment industry can lift most of those insecurities.

Anyhoo.

As most of you know, I think men and women are both beautiful. Despite my knowing that these women are all hopped up on plastic surgery, it can still be sexy to look at.

Porn is at least honest in what it is. "It's all about SEX" "yes, yes it is".

Everywhere else - magazines, newspapers, television, real movies - also hideously unrealistic about women. It's all about who's thin, who's pretty, who has big breasts, who you would want to see naked. Fuck, even in our own little lives that plays a part. We're talked down to, expected to become fucking Nicole Richie.

And yet, in regular media to a big degree they argue that that's not what it's all about... The skinny girls claim to eat everything that they want and be *blessed*. Women who get plastic surgery say their breasts just look bigger because of the dress they were wearing that day (bitch, please).

I would much rather be faced with the sexy current 'ideal' of a woman when I'm half naked and ready to get it on. It's sex, it's not claiming to be anything else, and when I'm done, I can stop the DVD, close the laptop, whatever.

The rest of it? Still there - and infiltrating every aspect of our lives. And lying about it.

Sex in porn is to get me off.

Sex everywhere else is to make me buy a pair of shoes; make me pay $150 for a pair of jeans; make me think I have to be one of the four women on sex and the city; make me think that to have a career I have to be in high heels 24/7; make me think that I only deserve a good guy if I look like Nicole Richie; make me think women have to either fall into the category of "jealous of me" or "to be jealous of"; makes me think sexiness is directly proportional to how much I spend and consume. And sex everywhere else openly thinks I'm too stupid to figure it out.

At least sex in porn is honest - it tells me what it's doing, and then it does it.

5). Frankly, as a woman I think it's insulting the idea that I shouldn't like porn.

Watching two people can get it on.... It can be sexy. For shizzle.

My Funny Valentine

2009-04-22T00:56:00.000-07:00

Hello my loveliest of lovelies.

I am about to pop my cherry, right here, on this blog.

On 20sb, they orchestrated a big ole' blog swap, and I nervously volunteered. And so I am not here today, kiddies - never fear, I am a hop skip and a jump away.

And today, the lovely & newest of my bloggy friends, Like A Valentine, will be watching the place for me while I'm gone. You should definitely go check her out - I have become one of her devoted minions in this process. ( She also has a blog - fantabulously frugal. Read: get tons of shit you wouldn't otherwise be able to afford).

Without further ado, I give you the guest dating history of a Ms. Valentine....

When I started out writing this dating history, it dated back to the 1st grade. And then I realized "Holy shit, I've just written three complete pages, single-spaced." So, I erased everything up until life *really* began in the 11th grade. If you want to read more I've decided to run the rest of this as a series, much like Muppet Soul has been doing.

(The boys are numbered as they were before I chopped off half the story. Sorry for the confusion!)

... By the time I'm in the 11th grade, most of my friends are guys. Gossip had it, for some reason, that I was dating all of those guys at once. This always struck me as being pretty funny, considering I was probably the most prudish girl in school. I made it to the 12th grade without even so much as holding a boy's hand!

Boy 5. It's the summer before senior year and I am MADLY in love with Scott. I mean - madly, wildly, and completely In Love. He is the hottest boy I've ever seen and I spend pretty much every waking moment thinking and dreaming about him. We were actually best friends, AKA, we were in a relationship with no physical benefits. The only thing keeping Scott and I apart? His girlfriend of 3 years. (AKA Rat Girl.)

Rat Girl was always suspicious of our relationship and so to prove to her that he and I were just friends, Scott thought it would be cool to send her and I out to dinner together. At that dinner I vowed that Scott and I were just friends and that I thought their relationship was perfect and that they were totally going to get married and have 2.5 kids. Two weeks later my first kiss turned into a full-fledged make out session in the rain at the kiddie park.

Scott broke up with Rat Girl the next day and told me I was his girlfriend an hour later. Yes, he told me I was his girlfriend. There was no asking. Two weeks after we started going steady he told me he thought I was too much of a flirt and that he was giving me two weeks to change my ways or he would leave me. (!) Yes, he gave me a two-week ultimatum. Two weeks later I hadn't changed sufficiently enough for him (he was, and would always be, a needy bastard) and he told me that we had to end things. I remember begging and pleading and crying with him to take me back, promising that I would change my ways and stop making googly eyes at every boy that walked near me.

Enter Boy 6. Scott took me back and I decided WTF. He already thinks I flirt too much, so I thought I might as well have some fun with it. I started directing my attention toward Scott's best friend Devon. I REALLY turned up the heat with Devon, so much so that by time we graduated, people thought I was dating Devon and had no idea I was actually with Scott. Devon, too, was in a serious relationship, but whatever. We were in high school. I remember hanging out at Devon's house once, just the two of us, and he started getting a little handsy. I enjoyed the flirting and all that, but remember, I'm essentially a prude. I pushed him away, which would become a trend with us.

College happens and Scott and I go to the same school. We go to the same school because I only applied where he applied, so convinced was I that we were going to be spending the rest of our lives together. I was also ridiculously stupid. Lucky for me he chose a good school. (Close one.) We started to fall apart immediatley - he is as needy as ever and I am starting to make friends at the campus newspaper where I would spend increasing amounts of time. More ultimatums - If you don't quit the paper, I will leave you. So I left him. And then took him back. And then left him, and so on and so forth all year long.

Somehow we end up back together that summer. I decided to stay in college town for the summer, so he comes out to visit every weekend. But during the week, while I am working at the campus paper, I meet Boy 7, Chris. Chris was...perfect. He was everything Scott was not, at least in my eyes. We quickly became the best of friends (trouble!) and start spending all of our time together. Chris, too, had a girlfriend. A girlfriend of 6 years, in fact. (It should now be abundantly clear that the best way to get my attention is to have a girlfriend.) (It should also be abundantly clear why most girlfriends hate me.) I start to suspect Scott has another relationship on the side, so I also decide to turn up the heat with Devon. (Seriously, I think I was a little bit o' crazy.) Devon and I make plans to meet up one day that summer to have sex. No. We've never kissed or really fooled around. We are going to just bypass that and have random and totally awkward sex. He has a girlfriend, I have a boyfriend, AND I am now in love with Chris, but this all seemed like a great idea at the time. Sadly, stronger heads prevailed and that sex never happened.

The end of summer approaches and Scott admits that he's not only seeing someone else, but that she's his "girlfriend." I don't know what that made me, but whatever. Devon and I also "break-up," because we have the true definition of an unhealthy relationship. Things really only continue with Chris, and not for too much longer. We have a few close "should we or shouldn't we" moments, but I think he ultimately wanted me to be the aggressor. And I'm not an aggressor. We were glued at the hip during my sophomore and his junior year of college, culminating in what is still one of the best dates I've ever been on. We went to dinner (his treat), talked about how nice it would be to go on vacation together(!), wandered around Border's where we both discovered that we collect different printed versions of the same book (for instance, I collect every single different version of Gone with the Wind that gets printed), and the night culminated in us sitting on a couch somewhere and me READING to him. Yes. Reading. To. Him. I read him a chapter out of his favorite book because he asked nicely. And I maintain that was probably one of those most intimate moments I ever had with a guy. To say I was in love would be an understatement. I'm 85% sure he felt the same way.

But I never found out because we ceased to be friends after that night. We were done. That was it. Even though we still worked together, we were not friends; he could hardly even look at me. I think it was just too much for him. Well, I choose to think it was too much for him and not just that he's a complete and total asshole.

Boy 8. I randomly make out with him at the wedding of my then best-friend. My friend, the bride, hooked up with him in the past. She AND her husband.

Boy 9. My friend tells me that she has this great guy that I just have to meet. So she plans for us to meet in a group setting at a bar. He didn't know we were being set up. He's shy and wouldn't look at me for the longest time. Finally, after an eternity, he looked at me. And all I could think was, "This is it."

Thanks & Things I want to do before I'm 30

2009-04-20T23:43:00.000-07:00

Hewwo.

You guys are fucking ROCK STARS. Seriously.

Today's advice for my dear friend, Minnie.... I could not thank you enough.. I tend to be the advice-person in my scattered circle of friends, and there was so much shit I hadn't even thought of...

G-d - there's an idea for a blog. People write in their problems, the problem is the post, the comments are the advice. Anyone? Good idea?

I really *really* think this will help, being as this is an outside impartial jury. I know Minnie read them today, and I think whenever clarity comes that will at least make it come a few seconds/minutes/days earlier than it would have otherwise, and from someone who loves her terribly that makes me want to kiss you on the mouth... Or you know, wherever.

You guys fucking kick some major ass. Oh, the blog love I feel for you right now, my breasteses are heaving in your honor.

*******

SO.

I won't bore you too much with the details, but after meeting with a lender, Bub & I figured out we'll probably be able to get a house this year. (And if your good thoughts and pixie dust had anything to do with it, consider my breasts not just heaving but my left boob completely out of my blouse.)

So I've been future minded as of late, and 20sb (which is just getting sillier and sillier the more time I spend on it) had an interesting forum topic.. Things a person wants to accomplish before they turn thirty.

So, I think, occasionally I'm just going to drop some goals off in here to pull out on a rainy day, starting now.

Things I want to do before I'm 30:

P 1..... and in no order....

1. Own a house

(That would be Lucille Ball's House from when we went on our celeb homes tour - so a smidgen out of my price range.. just a smidge)

Even though buying A house seems probable (hooray!) at this point, it's way to early for victory..

Let's say... You can afford a 500,000 house. In the suburbs outside of D.C. ( southern Maryland or northern Virginia for those of you geographically challenged), right now you could get a five bedroom house, 3 baths, a nice sprawling yard in a fanfuckingtastic neighborhood. In the Hollywood area? A 2 bedroom condo (maybe, and that's if you jump on that shit the second it hits the market. Otherwise, crappy condo).

So Bubboo and I are exploring some areas in the surrounding hills ( even though in the back of my mind I'm thinking fire - fire - fire). Not Hollywood Hills, but someplace like Topanga Canyon ( it's close to the beach, and just by going slightly into the mountains, you're in a spread out, spiritual, hippie dippie community).

If we had way more money, it would be so bad ass to get a nice creepy house, like the house they shot the Freddie movies in (that's in weho), or the Halloween house ( also in weho), or
even the witches house....

2. Spend a December in New York

That's right, a full December.

I fully stand by the idea that there is no better place to spend a Christmas than in New York City. The decorations, the cold... The big ole tree, ice skating at Rockefeller center...

Why the whole December? Every year on December 8th, the anniversary of John Lennon's assassination, fans gather at Strawberry Fields in Central Park and have an all-night, candlelight vigil. I have always wanted to go.

Plus, even though I hate crowds and get easily annoyed by drunks, it would be cool to say that at least once I spent a New Years Eve in Times Square. (Although it is so not the same without Dick Clark, so sad that that ship has sailed).

3. Sing in front of a Crowd

Not such a big deal, but definitely on the list... I have a pretty good voice ( don't worry, I'm not delusional, there will be no muppet standing in line to audition for American Idol) but I've never sang in front of people as an adult. So, you know, one night of particularly brave karaoke, maybe.

4. Get Published

Finish a novel. Get it published.

Finish the screenplay that has been 99% finished for the past year.... (and I know everyone has a screenplay out here, but I really feel like this one could be great).

Be enough of a writer to be fully comfortable for me to say "I'm a writer". At best, currently I feel comfortable enough to say "I write".

5. Go to Italy

Weird sidestory: when I was little, despite never having been there or any real point of interest I wanted to see or reason to go, I was obsessed with Germany. Obsessed. I kept posters up in my room - one, in particular, a castle that I liked the look of. Then, right around when I was in the 6th grade, it just mysteriously went away. Totally out of my system, it left it an instant. An instant.

Come to find out later that Bub, the husband, was living in Germany my entire childhood, at times near that castle I think, and the same time my obsession stopped, Bub moved to U.S. soil. It was like my subconscious said "okay, no more need to worry about Germany, he's here".

Anyhoo.

I now, an adult, desperately want to go to Italy. That's my dream vacation destination, if done right... I would love, love love love, to make this happen by the time I'm 30... Or at least for my 30th birthday.

Go to Rome, Milan, Palermo, Tuscany, Florence, Lake Garda, Verona, anywhere on the coast, see the most haunted place on the planet the Lucedio ( remind me to tell you about that) and most of all.. Venice... ahh, sweet sweet Venice...

To be continued....