you know me to be neither rash nor impulsive

And! Yes, I am totally bidding on two things at the Brando auction. Laugh all you want, but you'll be sorry when I'm the one screaming "Get off that water buffalo! It was Marlon Brando's!!!" at my kids. Also, I touched the "Superman" tunic (which would look fantastic on me, by the way) and wondered aloud about his odd DVD collection, but I was way cooler than that dude trying on all his hats. Eek.

pull up to the bumper

I can't believe how soon I go to Minneapolis. Ah! Minneapolis. It is great there, and great Kim lives there with her great husband. Even her great family lives there too! They have great pho, and a great place of karaoke (even if they don't have karaoke when I am there for only two days). Oh, so great. I wonder will I see Oscar there? Because he moved to Minneapolis, you know. Isn't that weird? Wouldn't it be crazy to see him? I would cry and die.

Speaking of crying and dying, holy jeez, because Dollie told me of an episode of "Pimp My Ride" where some car had a family of rats living in the bumper. It is a lucky thing that I don't have Oscar anymore, because you know there were no rats living in the bumper, but you know I would have thought there were. And that is beyond disgusting.

and it isn't just talk talk talk

Join me for a game of "Which of these is a big fat lie?" won't you?

Last night, one of the following things did not happen. Do you know which is a big fat lie?

1. I went to a place, and there was P.Phone (!!) — and I even met her, after all these years!


2. Freedy Johnston (he of "Bad Reputation" — one of my all-time favorite songs — fame) sat in front of me at a concert, and I didn't even realize it.


3. Freedy Johnston joined Mike Viola onstage for a rousing rendition of that very same "Bad Reputation."


4. Dollie had the same slogan-emblazoned shirt on as at least one other audience member (in a very small room)


5. I saw Keanu Reeves sitting on a couch I sat on myself just the week before.


6. That very same Keanu Reeves totally checked out Dollie's rack on his way out (slogan emblazoned or otherwise).


7. I did my part to help a talented singer/songwriter come up with a lawsuit against (the also talented, but possibly plagiaristic) Backstreet Boys.

Well, can you guess?

Can you?!

Won't you?

. . .

Here's a hint (and the answer):

Mike and Freedy only did one song, and it was "Earn Enough for Us" from XTC.

Zing!

save some face, you know you've only got one

I can't believe Sloan was last week already. Good thing I'm going to see them again in Minneapolis.

What? I'm going to Minneapolis? Yes. For all good things and people are there. I wish I could stay longer than the weekend. Someday.

On the topic of good things and people, I saw Mike Viola play at the Living Room last night — The Living Room, not my living room. He hasn't played my living room in years — and it was fantastic. I am so totally going again next week.

My new favorite thing to do is go out. This is bad timing, as going out costs money, and I keep buying plane tickets and planning trips. But I must go out. I went out last night (dinner and a rock show). I'm going out tonight (dinner and drinks). I'm going out Thursday (drinking and comedy) — guess who doesn't have to get up at 4AM on Friday! Heck yes, son. I am off. — and I am spending the entire day out and about on Saturday. Wow. It's great.

Also, I need some new friends. Maybe ones who get out of work at like 3PM like me. Or, you know, a little later. We can go to the movies. It will be fun! I am fun, I promise. But for some reason, no one new likes to be my friend in like 87 years. Now Dollie, she has tons of new people all the time who I don't really like who like her and want to go places. So what am I supposed to do while that is going on? Get cranky, mostly. Which is bad. So instead, I should get my own creepy weirdos to hang around with. Where are my creepy weirdos?!

you're jealous and it's all because of one thing

I got my hair cut. Damn, I'm cute.

So I went to two Sloan shows. And I had drinks at two Sloan shows. And I was late for work (late enough that I actually had to take a cab in order to be a half-hour late) one day. And for one Sloan show I got home at one-ish, and evidently that wasn't late enough for me, because the next night I opted to go to the afterparty and get home at three-ish. Oh my God. Wait, you know I have to leave for work at 5, right? Have I mentioned that 90,000 times lately? So, I'm still tired. Also, I took 169 pictures between the two shows. What? Some of them I can use to blackmail bandmember (just one, poor thing) if the need arises. Till then, it will burn inside of me. No, till then, no one gets to see the uglies. No one. Not even you.

Here are some pretties instead!

you can hit them right where they live

Live in the greater New York metropolitan area? Miss Sloan? You are a dang fool. Lucky for yooooooou they are playing again Tuesday. Come and enjoy.

PS Did you know that I "look fanstastic"? Me neither. Love them!

take out a full-page ad in the trades to announce their arrival

Will I be able to sleep tonight? Well not so far.

Last night I started th Canadian festival off right, with a Don McKellar movie/Q&A at BAM ("Childstar" is excellent — with a fantastic magic surprise — and Don McKellar looks great these days, I couldn't help but notice) followed by The Dears at the Bowery Ballroom. It was the biggest show I've seen them do — I've seen them a billion times, you know. Well, a dozen — and the best show I've seen them do. Wow. It was really amazing. So good that I had glass in my shoe (three pieces! One was horrifyingly long!) and didn't even notice until it was cab time.

The night before, I worked until 6 (that's 12 hours, if you're keeping score — thanks, Tom Cruise, you psychotic fucker) then went to Rocking Horse (they discontinued the Red Lemonades — what?!) and that was lovely. Then we ended up with the gays at Metropolitan, also lovely.

Oh, my life is so nice. Which I why I am sure that the people debating over that other psychoic fucker, Michael Jackson, are going to come up with a verdict tomorrow or Tuesday, to mess up my Sloany goodness. Which is going to be tough already, as I've never gotten home from a Sloan show before 1AM, and you know, I have that whole "Gotta get up by 4:15AM" thing happening.

Are you coming to Sloan? You should. I think neither show is sold out, which is odd, but who plays on a Monday and Tuesday, after all? These boys are such pains in the boot, but I think it will be worth it. And I'm so excited!

I got soul but I'm not a soldier

Reason #287 I'm really going to love when I move far from this city:
I actually like chain restaurants. Say what you will, but that onion thing? That is amazing.

I don't know a damn thing about Opus Dei, and Chris Matthews isn't helping. But it makes me remember that I need to find some religion. Or maybe not. I kind of like the way me and God get along, though it is weird. Weird enough that I would like to talk to someone about it, but what are my options? Church, where they might want me to hold hands with the person next to me (No thanks). A therapist? Can you ask for one with whom you can talk about God? This is confusing, right? Also, please don't now think you are smarter than me because I like God. Because clearly, I am a fucking amazing genius who is altogether fascinating. And that's because God made me that way, bitches.

I was noticing today, when some guy had on a shirt that said, "I'd have a battle of wits with you, but you are obviously unarmed," etc. that people who need to point out how sharp they are are generally unbelievably dull. PS Who would wear that shirt?

It was a weird day of shirts. Also this one man had on a shirt that said, "Department of Redundacy Department." OK, then.

I mistakenly paid the wrong rent, the rent from before the yearly rent increase (which happened in February.) I got a message from the landlord that said, "Your rent was $72 short." And I was about to call him back and say his son was a thief when I thought, "Hmm, $72?" And found my lease and remembed I'm an idiot.

Yesterday was the birthday of one Mr. CRZ! He's great. I'd like to go to Minneapolis and see him and his lovely wife, maybe even while Sloan is there. But that might be just too crazy. ESPECIALLY! Since my tickets to London just arrived. Why London? Here's why!

AND! Row B, son. Row B.

sprawled across the finish line

Today was a ding dang looloo of a day. There was much crying. At my desk. There was a puddle between me and my keyboard. I wish that was just a funny story.

Last night i found out my old man had to go right away for an angiogram and likely angioplasty. "Oh, Jane. Come on. Easy peasy," you say. If you had my family history of angioplasty (let's just say they didn't really have a handle on it 25 years ago), you'd be a little spooked. But that was 25 years ago, yes. Still, it was disconcerting. Also because my baby brother graduates from college tomorrow. Would Pop be able to go? "Of course," said the doctor. "Uh, I hope so," said the rest of us.

So Pop went in at 10 for his procedure. And I had a meeting with my overseer (ooh, isn't that funner than boss?) about that same time, and he talked about all the Michael Jackson excitement (I work in news) and how we could be pulling a late night on Friday, etc. "Oh, of course!" I said. And on the walk back to my desk I remembered the whole, "Your brother is graduating, PS you're supposed to be getting out EARLY not having a work sleepover." But if you work in news, you don't get out of the Michael Jackson trial. So I sat at my desk and cried. And I called home to get my brother's cell phone number (because you know I left my phone with all its numbers at home) and Dollie had to accidentally call him to get it, and then he called me at work, which is not how I wanted it to be as I was still entirely hysterical, and then I made him upset and said, "Don't tell Mommy (who was at the hospital with her husband) because she has enough to worry about.

So at 1PM, I got a call from my mom (who had obviously been crying) with news that the old man was totally all fine, no blockage at all. Magic. I was happy for good news, but still bummed about bad news.

So I worked and cried and had more meetings and cried and worked. And my mom called and said, "If you can't make it you can't make it. Don't be upset. This is a big work deal, and we all understand. But maybe you should ask if you can get out just to be sure. Because if there is no verdict and you sit there for no reason and you say, 'Argh! I could have gone!' and they say, 'Oh, of course. Why didn't you ask?' you will punch everyone and kick yourself" (OK, she didn't really say that part) and I agreed, mostly because I'd been thinking of how to tell three different people (the lame but best approach -- an email) who should be making the call that I had another commitment, and a hot plan of how to make it all work. So I sent the mail, and the people came to me and said, "Oh, you're going. It's one day, and you can't get that back." And "That's family. You don't miss that." And I thought, "Wow." And so I cried again (whoa.) But not for too long, because I had to run out to dinner.

Dinner? Yes! Dinner! At Virgil's! Where I had never been! There was shrimp and ribs and cobbler and even a mint julep (holy god, how do people drink these all day?) This was because nine years ago today, Dollie and I (and Seana and my brother) met in a line to meet Pulp. And the rest is history.

Speaking of history, our little boy grew up and moved out. Tonight. We came home to a message on our machine from the lovely girl who bought our car. She had her plates and registration all ready, and was it OK to come pick up Oscar now? It was. And he's gone.

And I better get to bed, because I'm due up in a few hours, and I'll be sleeping today off for weeks.

man this is getting scary, I'm gonna shoot somebody

Of course I am obsessed with the "Trapped in the Closet" saga. Was there ever any doubt? And is Pt. 5 out? Because I can't find it.

Ugh. I hate this Michael Jackson crap.

There are many other things, but I am very tired of being in front of a computer.