Warning

Staying up really late watching Ralph Fiennes be gorgeous in a film adaptation of Eugene Onegin makes you wake up with a Russian gloom hangover that I am suspecting will last all day.

Don’t do it. You’ll be tortured! Tortured, I tell you!

Seriously, though. SERIOUSLY.

Vissi d’arte, Indeed

Get ready to bawl, kids. Regin Crespin tells it like it is. 

Hey dudes

Sorry I haven’t been writing too much lately, I just haven’t really felt like it, mostly because I don’t DO anything. This year’s been very, very hard, and frankly I don’t feel up to very much besides watching movies on the couch. Don’t be worried, I’m just recharging and am sure that this will pass. So, sadly, I don’t really have many stories to turn into something hilarious in this blog. 

I mean, I’m doing SOME stuff. I’m pretty much in love with Semele right now. I can’t WAIT to do it, but I am fairly certain that learning this role could kill me. 10 arias? Really, Handel? Really?!?! Also the entire role seems to just consist of me singing F’s right in the shitty and horrifically difficult part of my voice for 3 hours… and there are a couple arias where I don’t know where I’m going to, say, BREATHE. It’s all good, though. Playing a silly little vapid slut will be fun times, and I’ll get to die onstage, which rarely happens for a voice like mine. 

I’m getting ready to move on the 15th, and I’ve got exactly 3 boxes packed. It’s very likely that I will wait until the last minute to do everything, which is really, really, really annoying, but something I’m at least aware of. Hopefully I’ll get myself together, but like I said before, the only thing I feel capable of doing is just laying around on the couch. Hmmm. I’m really excited about the move, though. It’s to an actual HOUSE, which is a step up in the world, and I can’t believe how lucky my roomies and I got with this place. It’s owned by a real estate agent who flipped it, so it’s gorgeous, but can’t sell it because the market is so bad right now. It’s in a nice, SAFE, part of town… it’s basically a miracle. Normally I curse George W.’s name, but I’d like to thank him at this point for putting the economy in the shitter. Without him this never would be! It’s really going to cut down on my rent to move in with people, and I also think its going to be good for my psyche to live with roommates again. Living alone is awesome because you can watch whatever you want on tv, but it also makes you a lazy pile prone to living in a pile of her own filth and cutting herself off from the world. This is a very positive step.

That’s kind of it, I suppose. A shout out to all my scattered loved ones. Sometimes facebook starts to make me sad, what with the pictures of everyone having a great time in faraway lands. You know you’re in need of a road trip when facebook makes you depressed. I love you all.

Hopefully I’ll get a life and write more. Until then, stay tuned.

If only…

New Wearable Feedbags Let Americans Eat More, Move Less

You’ll love this. I swear to you.

Giiiiiiirl, let me let you in on a secret:

Savage Love. Yep, it’s over there in my links bar, but I’m going to plug it again, because I my love is renewed for it. 

Dan Savage is the shit. He is a theater loving, crazy hysterical, potty-mouthed, ridiculously intelligent, gay father who writes a nationally syndicated sex column and also a million wonderful books about the stupid christian right and getting gay married and adopting a child with his partner and lots of other awesome things. 

But what is even better is that he has a podcast. That’s right. A call-in podcast. With lots of cursing and kinky sex. It’s awesome, and I’m addicted to it. Everyone who has ever lived  with me knows that every Wednesday I like to listen to it over breakfast/lunch. 

Basically I want you guys to get addicted to it as well. 

Here’s the link. Listen to it over breakfast or with someone you love. Then we can talk all about those perverted (or totally normal) freaks. 

(Shout out to Shar-Shar Binks. I know you read this, and while I’m listening to the podcast I wish we were sitting on your bed munching sundried tomato Wheat Thins at the same time.)

 

Pure joy

Last night, after waking up at three in the morning in an awkward position on the futon with the dvd menu for It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia repeating and repeating, I finally went to bed. 

It was storming. But like, psychotically storming. 

The walls were shaking and the room was all lit up and I was all curled up under a billion quilts with my cool little baby blankies tucked under my chin. 

It was great. 

It happens

Sometimes you’re sitting at home cleaning instead of going to a party with all your friends and after a big bowl of pasta you switch on the TV and after flipping through a million channels you end up actually watching and enjoying The Wedding Planner but since you’re a big intellectual snob you try to tell yourself you’re just watching it so that you can make fun of it with your friends later but when Matthew McConaughey rescues J Lo from a dumpster and swoops her up in his arms your heart totally skips a beat and you start to question your purpose in life because now J Lo makes you teary and you might as well just give up and start reading Danielle Steele and watching The Bachelor and doing the Atkins Diet and listening to Josh Groban and wearing sweatpants with “Diva” embroidered on the ass. 

It happens. 

Thoughts I have in an elevator

So I had to go to the doctor today, and my doctor is at the hospital. Let me tell you, the hospital is full of grossness.  Here are some things I thought in the various elevators I was forced to share rides in. 

“I really feel like 65 is too old to be wearing a matching thug sweatsuit complete with jesus chains and a grill.”

“Stop staring at me stop staring at me stop staring at me stop staring at me…”

“Holy hell, that girl has more freckles than actual skin.”

“It smells like beef in here. Do I smell like beef?”

“Oh please, lady. Please don’t throw up. Oh God, oh God, oh God. If you throw up I will throw up. In your mouth. In this 4×4, stuffy, slow, un-air conditioned space. That’s right, you sip your 7-Up.”

“Don’t get on… don’t get on… don’t get on… don’t get on… fuck.”

 

KARATE CHOP!

Hi there, friends and lovers. 

You know what? All of a sudden I am super duper motivated. WTF? I kind of love it. 

I’m all like, exercising and practicing and looking for a new job and moving in to a better place and learning roles and stuff. Cool. 

I really hope it lasts.