Your Muppet Man Guide.

Mar

2010

Do you really want to know something about a man? Ask him who his favorite muppet is. I’m serious. For months now I have been asking every guy I know who their favorite muppet is. The best part is that not one of them has asked me why. NOT ONE. People just love muppets! Anyone who doesn’t is a serial killer and/or rapist and you should get away from them as soon as possible and definitely NOT date them.

Here is your muppet man guide:

If they like Gonzo they are artsy. They probably live in Venice. They probably have facial hair. They probably enjoy bizarre, kinky sex.

Boys who choose Kermit are mellow and usually trustworthy. But in reality they probably just couldn’t think of another muppet and/or felt that they had to choose Kermit because they also play the guitar.

If they chose Miss Piggy they are probably gay.

Guys who like Animal are most likely fun social types who don’t necessarily have to play an instrument but aren’t necessarily not doing cocaine.

Those who chose any of the Fraggles are stoners and were probably watching Fraggle Rock when you asked them who their favorite muppet was, but were too stoned to appreciate the coincidence.

Fans of The Swedish Chef are into improv. This is also true if they chose Fozzie Bear, but are probably more into writing or stand-up than Improv.

If they chose Rowlf they are kind, goofy, and endearing. Good boyfriend material.

Statler and Waldorf, AKA The Old Dudes in the Balcony, are introspective types. They probably blog.

Out of all of the guys I asked, these were the muppets I heard about the most. If they chose any other muppets, one of the lesser known ones like Rizzo The Rat, then they are thoughtful, quirky and maybe even trying to get into your pants. The other possibility though is that they just really love The Muppets.

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Riddle Me.

Feb

2010

Good evening, paper gangstas. I hope your weekend was EXPLOSIVE. I got a question on formspring asking me why I don’t do more videos and if maybe I could answer some questions in a video. I totally can. Though I don’t know if people really care to ask me any questions or to know the answers to these questions. But if you do:

Ask me a question here

and I’ll reply with the answer in a little video for your enjoyment.

I hope this isn’t a disastuh.

xxoo

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The Secret Code.

Feb

2010

Hi gang! I’m so sorry it has taken me so long to update. I’ve been busy. Those Tivo’d Oprah episodes aren’t going to watch themselves.

Last night I went out with some friends and a guy asked me what my background was. “Are you mixed?” Confused, I asked, “Like, biracial?” To which he said, “No, I meant, are you German?”

Huh. Apparently mixed can also mean part German, to some people. Or to one guy. GOOD TO KNOW.

I love going out but once I’m there it never quite lives up. I just sort of sit or stand in the corner looking at people, carrying on imaginary conversations with Andy Warhol in my head. Like, “Oh, look at her, those shoes are all wrong.” “Come on Andy, they’re not too bad.” “The thing about shoes is that if they’re not right they throw the whole outfit off. They’re like a misfit gang. I think she looks like a mess.” “Oh you!” I also like to dance. But I don’t think Andy would dance with me. He would probably take polaroids and then when I was done dancing he would say something like, “You looked fabulous, don’t bust a gut” and I would say, “Lou Reed” or make some other allusion to whatever cultural reference was popular at the time. Lou Reed is still popular but I don’t think people are mentioning him in nightclubs.

However if you see me at a nightclub just come up to me and say, “Lou Reed.” That will be our secret code. That’s how we’ll know each other in the real world and everyone else won’t.

Nightclubs are not where you go to meet men. Nightclubs are where you go to have fun with your friends. There are three types of guys who you will find at nightclubs in LA:

1.) European weirdos
2.) Mustached weirdos
3.) Actors

Then in the sub category of actors you have:

1.) Famous
2.) Not yet famous
3.) No longer famous

Nightclubs are for having fun with your friends!! If anyone has met any non weirdo/non actor men at clubs in this city then you may as well show me a Lisa Frank pegasus because they don’t exist either.

Whatever, I don’t want to date anyway. I’m in a difficult relationship right now. It’s with this guy named Ted. Ted is a blueberry pancake that I just ate. He turned my mouth blue. I think this is going to be difficult for us to move past.

But there is always good news. Tonight the good news is that my hair is shiny and soft. You could probably see your reflection in it. There is always a saving grace in your life, and even if it’s just a good hair day you take that and run with it like you’re playing capture the flag and you’re running to or from or with a flag, I never played sports in school so I don’t really know how that game works at all, but you’re running and it’s like a never-ending recess! Good times.

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Happy Sunday Night.

Feb

2010

photo by Laura at http://gumdroplane.blogspot.com/

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about what kind of book I want to write. A few people have told me that I’m like the new Carrie Bradshaw. I think that’s rad and I would love to be the new Carrie Bradshaw if only for license to dress more creatively. However, I don’t know anything about relationships. Clearly. I’m at home on Valentine’s Day evening drinking a Manhattan and watching “The Simpsons.” Or as I call it, Sunday Night. The one time I had plans on Vday it wasn’t terribly fun. I sort of bullied the guy I was seeing into taking me out to a nice restaurant (because otherwise I don’t think he would have planned anything, probably just hanging out in front of the TV) and it was delicious food but looking back the whole thing was so forced. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to take me out but it’s more like I so desperately wanted to feel like it was working. THIS is what couples do, right? They go out on Valentine’s Day, right? I drank a lot and we got home early and I probably ended the evening watching the 1:00 AM Oprah rerun. I bet it was good, too. The Oprah rerun. It was probably about how there are HUNDREDS of CHILD PREDATORS lurking in YOUR neighborhood. Lisa Ling investigates.

I can’t really offer relationship advice. A coworker asked me for some a few days ago. She was seeing this guy that she was off and on with for a while now. In the past he was not able to commit. Now he seems different. All I could tell her was that sometimes when we don’t know what to do or make of someone all we can go on is past behavior. You’re welcome to keep trying but the odds of it winding up differently than before are slim. I think it’s AA that has the saying that goes something like “Insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results.” I read this on the stall of the bathroom at acting class. BTW, thanks to the Lesly Kahn Institute for the travel coffee mug. I’m sure you didn’t intend for it to be used as a martini shaker but that’s what I did and it worked beautifully.

Anyway I think my point is that I can only offer my take on things and hope that you make the right decision for yourself. The worst thing though is that I can never take my own advice. I guess it’s like the shoemaker whose kids never have shoes or the therapist whose kids are the most screwed up of all, or something. That old thing. If you want a get a guy to like you or stay with you, I can’t help you there. But if you’re doing something and you need someone to take a look at it, I can step back, observe and say, “Hey, this is silly, friend” or “Maybe you should not do that” or “Try this” or “Yes, I believe we have that in a size 7, would you like to try it in red as well as black?” That last suggestion is what I would say if I were working at a shoe store. But I would never do that because I don’t like looking at feet. I also don’t like looking at close up photos of hair. Or touching the palms of hands. And I don’t want you to touch my palms either. It gives me the creepies. I can’t explain why. I can hold your hand though but only if I really like you. That’s very intimate. Why do you think The Beatles wrote an entire song about it?

Suicide Is Painless — The theme from MASH

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NER NER NER NER. NER NER NER NER. PART 1.

Feb

2010

NER NER NER NER. NER NER NER NER. *CLAP CLAP*

That, of course, is the phonetic spelling of the classic theme song for Beverly Hills 90210. Picture it: a sleepy little town where the prom girl was found dead, wrapped in plastic, and everyone is a suspect. Wait what the hell am I talking about? I have to stop drinking while writing these.

Oh yeah! Not Twin Peaks, but that other classic 90s show I wasn’t allowed to watch. The one with Dylan, Brenda, Kelly, Brandon, Steve, David, Donna and the annoying woman who was clearly in her early 40s but was supposed to be a teenager. And if you’re going to include that photo, then also the kid who died when he shot himself in the mouth and David was all bummed out but then they went to the Peach Pit and talked to a shaking midget who spoke backwards and they figured out who killed Laura Palmer. Wait, that’s still Twin Peaks. Well anyway, stuff happened.

Good stuff, clearly. My mom would not let me watch BH90210 because it was “too adult.” Never mind the fact that Stephanie Collier got to watch AND she had the BH90210 dolls. Do you remember those dolls? The Brandon and Dylan dolls were the best. No one wanted to play with the Steve Doll. We all just wanted the Dylan doll, with his badass leather jacket and his plastic cherry pie and damn fine cup of coffee playset (no, Twin Peaks again, but Dylan definitely rocked a leather jacket. He also rocked a duster, John Cusack style, in the episode where Brenda and Dylan first kissed.) She finally relented and let me buy the knock off Converse BH90210 shoes, where instead of the circle printed with “All Star Converse” it was the BH90210 logo. I was thrilled to wear these shoes, which made absolutely no sense considering that I had never even seen the show, but I knew what it mean to have seen the show. It meant you were cool.

Thus in my later years I netflixed the hell out of this classic series I never got to enjoy while it was still on the air. I’m on season 8, and the strain is showing. I love Vallerie, but my God do I miss Brenda. I miss them being in high school. And I miss Dylan. Dylan is the greatest television boyfriend of all time. I almost bought a t-shirt that had a print of Brenda and Dylan with the caption “I SLEPT WITH DYLAN FIRST” but then I realized that my brother’s name is also Dylan and that might send a weird message. Luke Perry, I love you. I know you’re not Dylan and I’m OK with that. I just love that you brought him to life. (Wait, normal people should stop reading now.) I love that even though by the time I started watching your show it was like 10 years too late and I STILL fell in love with you. I don’t know if you’re single now or what but I think we should date. This is based solely on the fact that you stood up to Bobby and got him thrown in jail. Wait, I think that’s Twin Peaks. Anyway, call me. I’m on imdb. But it’s just my photo without any credits. Because the indie film I was in promised to give me a credit but then they never did. Oh also I’m not blonde anymore. But I can be if you want me to. Actually, it’s kind of a hassle, so I would really prefer to stay brunette. We’ll talk, I’m on Twitter.

Brenda and Dylan forever. Brenda Walsh was the greatest. She had the best fashion. Look at that photo. Look at Brenda’s outfit. Look at how current it is! Look at this stuff, isn’t it neat? You could wear that exact outfit today, hair and all, and look totally cool. Now look at Brandon’s nerd hair. And denim on denim? This is why everyone hated you, Brandon. That and your self righteousness that nearly killed everyone. No, really. Kelly was shot because of you. You’re like the worst parts of Jack and Kate (from Lost) combined. You have Jack’s need to be a hero and you have Kate’s abilities to ruin everything all the time. (How many times on Lost has someone said to Kate, “Don’t follow me” only to have Kate follow them and lead to disaster? My God, it’s as reliable as someone being frightened in the jungle by a noise only to have it be Locke or Vincent.) I’m sorry, that was Twin Peaks. No wait, that was Lost. I’m pretty sure that was Lost. What was I talking about?

My adulthood. BH90210 makes me feel more adult than getting drinks without being carded. It makes me feel like I finally get it. I am finally one of you, peers! I can be Team Brenda or Team Kelly because I now understand that reference! Now if someone could only explain to me why Nirvana was so popular. What?? I’m sorry! When they came out I was the dork who wasn’t allowed to do anything “adult” and therefore grew up on my parents’ music. Which is great now but when you’re the only 5th grader listening to The Beatles and not Coolio then it’s kind of terrifying.

To Be Continued…

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The Crying Game.

Feb

2010

Sometimes I just feel like crying. I don’t know why. There isn’t any reason. I just feel like it’s something to do. Usually I can cry on demand but sometimes it just doesn’t happen. I don’t know if it’s because I’m dehydrated or what. But I can’t do it. Then I feel like a huge failure.

Big always makes me cry. Not the whole film, but the end.

On my facebook profile I wrote, “I like to listen to Elton John and cry.” It’s a joke but sometimes when I do feel like I need a good cry, there are a few songs I like to listen to.

Drive, The Cars, 1984.
Oh my God, this song. When I listen to this song I like to wear my oversized sweater with the cowl neck that doubles as a hood, and I like to put that hood on and just watch my eyes tear in the mirror. I picture myself in an 80s film, and I’m singing this song at the prom, because I’m the weird kid that wasn’t cool until after high school, the one who was in the band at prom but not asked to the actual prom, and I’m wearing a short spandex 80s dress or maybe a short tulle one and I’m singing “Drive” and I’m singing it right to the brown eyed boy I loved all through the film but who asked my friend out to prom instead of me and we’re all going off to college in a few days and I’ll never see him again and he sees me singing to him and he realizes what a mistake he’s made in not loving me and his eyes tear and my eyes tear and it’s one of those movie moments that defines everyones’ teenage years.

Five Years, David Bowie, 1972.
David Bowie sings about the upcoming apocalypse. How we all only have five years left on earth. Needless to say, it’s not a song you would sing at a wedding. It makes me think about what I would do if I only had five years left. I would probably get really, really fat.

I’ll See You In My Dreams, as sung by Joe Brown at the Concert for George, 2002.
George Harrison died and all of his famous musician friends got together and held a concert in his honor. Joe Brown sings this song on a ukulele, George’s favorite instrument, and the entire audience claps along, and then the strings come in, and I just imagine if I had to sing this for my friend who passed, and I just can’t even deal. I wouldn’t be able to get through it but he does and so simply, so beautifully. Why did half of the Beatles have to die? Why couldn’t it be Genesis instead? I’m sorry, that’s mean. Phil Collins is terrible but he shouldn’t have to die for it.

Hey Mama, Kanye West, 2005.
As if this song weren’t touching enough it took on a whole new meaning after Kanye’s mom died. Now all I want to do is sob hysterically every time I hear it. But it’s too good of a song not to listen to. Jon Brion produced “Late Registration” on which Hey Mama appears and you can clearly hear his influence in this song. His carefully lush and plucked chords come in about halfway through the song and it adds a whole new level that makes me want to hug my mom forever, then Kanye, and then just kill myself. Kanye is clearly confused right now. He’s dating Amber Rose but he’s supposed to be dating Almie Rose. Should I let him know? Or should I just let him be happy? Kanye when you realize it’s Almie Rose you were supposed to pursue, just get in touch with me. I have always been on your side.

Drive — The Cars

On a happier note, thank you guys for your congratulations and messages of good will. You’re the best readers anyone could ever have, and I don’t know how I can properly thank you for sticking with me. I’m hugging my computer right now.

Cheers.

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My True Obsession.

Feb

2010

WHAT I LOVE ABOUT LOST

Matthew Fox’s clean shaven face.

When it reminds me of “Twin Peaks.”

No Brandon Walsh.

Desmond.

The first season.

The way Miles looks and acts like Billy Crystal.

Jack’s constant crying.

The way every episode ends with a slow zoom of someone’s shocked/scared face with a swirl of trumpets and then L O S T

That Michael shot Anna Lucia.

The cliffhangers.

WHAT I HATE ABOUT LOST

Matthew Fox’s Ron Burgundy beard.

When it reminds me of bad James Bond movie, the Pierce Brosnan years.

No Brenda Walsh.

No one ever asks questions. It’s never, “Oh, where did this Scottish guy with half of his shirt buttoned come from, and why are we trusting him?”, “Hey guys, what are The Others?”, “Where did you get that gun?” etc.

There are way too many people who happened upon that island.

Josh Holloway’s dramatic acting.

Jack’s constant crying.

The way every episode ends with me having to go online to understand what I just watched.

That Michael shot half the island.

The cliffhangers.

Time Of The Assassins — Charlotte Gainsbourg