Funniest... show... ever!

And I'm not even a fan of the movies.

No, really. The first one came out when I was in the seventh grade, and it's ALL anyone would talk about. Kids in one of my classes were actually doing book reports about the book (which I'm guessing was just the screenplay in book form. Or was there a real book?)...! Consequently, I had no interest in seeing the movie. Ever.

Thus began my contrarian streak. I tend not to see the most popular movies around because I get sick to death of hearing about them. "Top Gun?" Never saw it. "Jurassic Park?" Nope. "Indiana Jones?" Nuh uh. (I do like the Indiana Jones ride at Disneyland, tho...)

I'm not into big action or special effects.

But when I was 17, I had a boyfriend who was a major sci-fi freak, so he insisted we see all three "Star Wars" movies on the big screen, as they were being re-released for a brief time.

Meh. I wasn't thrilled, but I didn't hate them either. I guess you could say I was ambivalent. And probably predisposed NOT to like them.

But when I got that flier up there, I knew I had to go. Doesn't that just sound hilarious?

It is. Oh my GOD, is it hilarious. And I'm sure I'd have appreciated it even more if I were more acquainted with the ins and outs of the movies.

In an hour's time, Charles Ross re-creates all three films, with music, sound effects, and all the important characters. He even does the opening credits. Seriously.

Hi. Lar. I. Ous.

If you go, and I think you should, just be careful if you're sitting in the front row. He spits a lot. Not on purpose, but still...

Freezing my chi chis off!

I know. Those of you have real weather all winter long are going to want to smack me for saying this... but CRIPES it's cold!

Last night, we had an onslaught of marble-sized hail. I've never seen hail that size here. I thought it was going to break all my windows. It did set off a bunch of car alarms in the 'hood. Then we had some thunder and lightning. Ooh, fun!

And now, I'm sitting here with a cold nose and hands. The radiator just doesn't do it when the wind gets going out there...

• And now, a few more random photos.

I have no idea why this guy decided to sit on our laps.

I neglected to mention that we ran into the lovely Sterling and her mama at the Oscar 'do. As you might imagine, Sterling's chi chis were also getting a lot of attention.

• I also neglected to mention the harrowing cab ride home after the party. The driver chose the route with the most twists and turns, and drove as fast as possible, leaving us both ready to toss our cookies when we got to my place a mere 10 minutes later. Luckily, there was no actual tossing.

• And on a completely unrelated note, behold the clock from hell.
  

You might recognize it from a recent episode of "Lost," when Desmond was having his... uh... flashback? He was time-traveling? Whatevs. He looked at a clock and it said (natch) 1:08. I can tell you that the "Lost" set decorators spent $12.99 at Target for this, as did I.

• That's $12.99 too much. It's the most annoying clock EVER. Those numbers are so fucking bright, I feel like I have a nuclear power plant next to my bed. And that's on the dim setting. I can make shadow puppets if I want. And I don't. I just want to sleep. In the dark.

So I've turned the fucking thing away from me, to cut some of the glare, but that means I have no idea what time it is. Ever.

• 
  Maybe that's not such a bad thing, for someone who wakes often in the middle of the night. But I hate this fucking clock. I'm sending it to some deserted island soon.

Also? Look! New posts on Celery of Humanity! Go click on the link! You know you want to...

Par-tay...

• Our Oscar evening extravaganza began as it did last year, at the MAC store, where we let the professionals make us all glamorous and stuff. This party is purported to be the largest formal Oscar event outside of L.A., so one has to look good.

• Despite the fine work of the MAC girls, I could not, for the life of me, get a decent picture of the two of us. We look freakish in nearly all of them.

This is the best of the worst, and that ain't sayin' much...

• 

We decided the overexposed look suited us better. I'm not sure what I thought was so hilarious here, though...but look how blue Miss Cheese's eyes are! I still look a little scary here...

At this event, there are many half-naked people painted as Oscar statues. It's a lovely sight, though we always wonder how they stay warm.

Miss Cheese was kind enough to share her lipstick with a fellow party-goer.

When a gay guy goes on and on about your "nice chi-chis," and says he wants to put his face in them, it would be wrong not to oblige.

I'm off to take some aspirin and watch the Oscars now. See, you only see bits and pieces of the actual show at this thing. Especially when you're busy hunting for food and free cocktails.

Fer crying out loud...

You know, I just had a feeling this would happen. I was soooo rundown by the end of last week, and then took on the big purge project over the weekend... and have been around a bunch of less-than-healthy people at work...

I'm sick again! At a terrible time.

I was supposed to see a friend's fake band last night. Nope.

Today, I was supposed to go on an all-day shopping/dining/gambling (yes, you read that right) outing with some of the women at my new place of employment. Excellent bonding experience, yes? Nope.

However, I will NOT be kept away from the big fancy Oscar party Miss Cheese and I have attended for the past two years. It's too much fun to miss. And we're getting our makeup done by professionals again this year so that we're red-carpet ready. No, really... there's a red carpet at this event!

And truth be told, this isn't the sickest I've ever been, but it's not nice.

Dammit. Bring on the Alka-Seltzer Plus Cold Medicine!

Look Look LOOK!!!

Look at what's in my fridge.

LOOK.

That's right.

It's that new Anheuser Busch gluten-free beer I was raving about, after I got to try it in NYC.

Oh. My. GOD. BEER!

BEER!

BEER I CAN DRINK WITHOUT GETTING SICK! And it's pretty tasty, too, though I suppose it doesn't hurt that it's just about my only beer option.

I know this doesn't mean much to you with normal digestive systems, but to those of us who have this weird-ass problem, it's very exciting. I've never been a big beer drinker, but I do like a yummy lager.

And, of course, when something's off-limits, you want it more.

I'm so thrilled to have found it, I'm ready to take back every obnoxious thing I've ever said about Whole Foods. I'm ready to forgive their high prices and the somewhat (w)holier-than-thou attitude of some of their workers. And customers.

I'm even ready to forget that I think I'm getting sick. Perhaps this is the cure.

Yaaaay, I have beer!

(I swear, I really do have more substantive things I want to write about, here and at the other blog... I just don't have the time or the energy right now....)

What I did this weekend...

This is where the purging fun began -- in my bedroom closet. It's fairly small, compared to my main closet, but I still managed to cram all kinds of crap in here. And because of its shape and size, I don't really hang anything in here except empty hangers. Why? Because I can.

That top shelf holds old jeans that are three sizes too big (I know. Why do I still have them?), all sorts of souvenir shirts that I never wear, and assorted workout wear. That dresser on the left was the center for all kinds of weird items, like old health insurance information and the letter my ex-husband sent to his friends and family when he came out. Again, why was all this there? I have no idea. The piles of clothing on the right are actually on top of my laundry hamper. Didn't want you thinking those piles actually start on the FLOOR.

I was ruthless here. I'd say well over half the contents of this closet are now gone. Maybe even two-thirds. The old jeans, the freebie t-shirts, the unnecessary papers. And I even found a sweater I'd been looking for for ages.

I'm sparing you the hall closet, which serves as a linen closet, a storage space for many toiletries and cleaning supplies, 700 rolls of toiletpaper from Costco, and board games (?!). The pictures don't really illustrate the before and after well, so never mind. I spent the least amount of time on that one anyway.

But here's the view when you walk into my main closet, which is L-shaped. On the left are jackets, sweaters, blouses, and some other assorted clothes. In the back you can see lotsa pants and a couple of coats and jackets I need to donate. The floral thing back there? Is my hula skirt.

Hey, look! You can see the floor again! I really didn't have to purge any clothes here, as I've been good about staying on top of that in recent years, but I had a bunch of old purses and boxes cluttering things up.

And shoes. Wait until you see the shoes...

Shoe boxes galore! I didn't quite realize how many pairs of shoes I had, since I don't wear most of them. I was surprised to find some I don't remember buying OR wearing, but they'd clearly been worn. Just confirms my theory that I'm losing my mind.

Those old, beat-up boots don't have a box, but I'm keeping 'em anyway. They're good for sloppy rainy days. And comfy.

A closer view of the chaos in the back of the closet.

Ooh. Neat! Okay, neater than it was, at least.

Skipping the kitchen extravaganza, because, again, the pictures don't show much difference between before and after. I got rid of all sorts of old coffee cups -- the kind that come with your dinnerware -- and souvenir glasses I've never used.

I filled up 12 large garbage bags, plus a bunch of smaller shopping bags and assorted boxes with crap. One of those large bags was filled with... BAGS! I had a collection of a ton of bags from shopping expeditions. Ridiculous. Why do I hang on to this stuff?

I had so much debris all over the apartment, I could barely walk around in here last night. I was convinced I'd wake up in the middle of the night and kill myself trying to get a drink of water.

More crap. Crap, crap, crap.

The same views today, after the adorable 1-800-GOT JUNK guys came and carted it all away.
Ahhh.

It's a good thing I hired help, because I did a number on my back. I'm really sore, and I'd never have made it to the dump today. I'd be forced to live amid those piles forever!!

I'm tired, I hurt, but it was worth it. I'm so pleased I did this. Somebody bring me a cocktail.

Ugh...

It's worse than I thought.

The crap-removal project, I mean. It's taken more than 2 hours just to get through all the shit in my bedroom closet and armoire. And it's a small closet compared to my gigantinormous main closet.

However, I did have a ton of old papers and shit to sort through. Why were they in that closet? I have no idea. Because it was there?

It's also the biggest problem of all my storage spaces, which is why I took it on first. I think it's all downhill from here. I hope.

I'm now thinking it might take the junk hauler people more than my estimated half-hour to get all this crap out of here. I am SO glad I decided to hire someone else to haul it away, though. I've saved myself another day of work, between carrying it all downstairs, cramming it into my car, and driving it as far away as I possibly can and still be in San Francisco. And then paying to get into the dump. And then removing it all from the car myself.

Pics tomorrow. For now, it's back to work...

Yeah, it's late......

Your Candy Heart Says "Hug Me"

A total sweetheart, you always have a lot of love to give out. Your heart is open to where ever love takes you! Your ideal Valentine's Day date: a surprise romantic evening that you've planned out Your flirting style: lots of listening and talking What turns you off: fighting and conflict Why you're hot: you're fearless about falling in love

What Does Your Candy Heart Say?

--------------------------------
Um. How can something be a surprise if it's planned out??

Oh, and thanks Jon! I stole this from him.

I hate when that happens...

You know....when work gets in the way of your blogging. Damn! I have things I want to write about, here and over at Celery Central.

No. Time. Now.

However, I will let you in on my big plans for the three-day holiday weekend: I'm purging.

Not food. Gross.

No, I'm going to tackle all the excess crap in my apartment and get it out of here.

Living in a fairly large space (for an apartment) with lots of storage space (ditto previous parenthetical passage) for many years can lead to too much clutter. Especially when you tend to be lazy, as I do. It's simply too easy to stack stuff up in the closets and forget about it than it is to actually dispose of it.

I've just spotted some sort of kitchenware product I received as a wedding gift - in 1990 - that's never been opened. I don't even know what it is. Why is it taking up precious shelf space in my kitchen?? Why do I still have those ugly plates I got as a wedding gift? (I don't mean the china; that's not going anywhere. I still love that.)

And to make it even easier on myself, I've made an appointment with the 1-800-GOT JUNK people to haul it away. All I need to do is stack this shit up and point the burly junk dudes in the right direction and it will be gone in short order, including the old fold-out table we used to use as a dining room table 1000 years ago. Why is THAT still here?

The funny thing is, as much as I despise cleaning -- and I do -- I'm really looking forward to this. More space! Less clutter!

And room for new, cool stuff I might want to buy.

Hard to be a sourpuss today...

I'm supposed to be all bitter, right? Since it's Valentine's Day and I'm single? With no prospects?

I'm not.

I unexpectedly got to spend time with good friends over cocktails and snacks last night (the sure cure for what was ailing me after a loooong and taxing day at work).

This morning, as I arrived at work, I got a special Valentine from a former co-worker who, every V-Day, leaves boxes of See's Candies in the mailboxes of all the women he works with. He never leaves notes or calls attention to his generosity. He's completely stealthy about it, mysteriously distributing the chocolate in the wee hours of the morning. And I was thinking recently that since I'd changed jobs, I'd miss out on that lovely tradition this year.

I didn't. And I was touched. No, really. That was really sweet.

Then, I got upstairs to find that a current co-worker had treats for all of us. Yay! More chocolate!

My employers got everyone on staff a really, really nice gift: windbreakers with the company logo on them.

And then I came home to find this really cool Valentine from my pal Kim in my mailbox, complete with a temporary tattoo and everything!

I can't help but smile, despite the exhaustion of a stressful week (and a 4 a.m. wake-up call today!).

My heart feels very full. I hope yours does too.

XXXXOOOO

I feel so special...

No, really!

The oh-so-clever Balloon Pirate has launched a new blog. And I've been invited to contribute.

Considering that I can't keep my mouth shut where pop culture is concerned, I'm SO there.

Go check it out. It's on the links over there now, too.

Thanks, Pirate!

There are two kinds of people in this world...

...those who love music and feel it down to their very souls, and those who are content to leave it in the background.

This brilliant (natch) insight of mine is the only way I can explain why so many people could sit in a small, intimate cabaret while the amazing Paula West is singing... and talk.

In full voice.

On and off, throughout her performance.

What. The. FUCK??

Miss Sassyhair and I ventured out to the beloved Plush Room last night to see the great Ms. West again, and she dazzled us, as always. Many times, I was completely lost in the music, and I consider that a great gift.

But I couldn't help but notice the morons who were talking. The room is so small it's impossible not to hear people talking no matter where you're sitting, and I know the performers hear it.

I don't get it. Now, I've written about this before, but I am still at a loss to explain this behavior. How is it that so many people have no manners at all?

And manners aside, how can you sit a few feet from someone who's singing her ass off and TALK? How are you not drawn in by the artistry before you?

Music is one of my great loves. It always has been. Even as a pre-teen, I'd sit and obsess (for lack of a better word) over every word, every note, every beat of songs I loved. It's also intertwined with my love of dance, because there's almost nothing I love more than expressing myself to music. Expressing how the music makes me feel, through dance. Watching others do the same. (I'm sorry, I'm not explaining that very well. I don't know that I can explain it. I think you either feel it or you don't.)

It makes me sad to encounter people who are content to leave music in the background. They're missing so much.

All hail the queen...

The Queen Mary II, that is.

She pulled into port here on Sunday afternoon to much fanfare, and spent most of yesterday parked along our waterfront.

And it was the nuttiest thing I've seen in ages.

As you may know, she's the biggest cruise ship in the universe. Or something like that. And definitely the biggest passenger ship to dock here.

So that drew large crowds... not only to watch her come through the Gate and cross the bay (I wish I'd been up to that, because... well... look at that picture from the SF Chronicle!), but just to walk by her while she was in port.

There were traffic jams, on the Embarcadero AND on all the side streets in the area. Traffic was backed up on the main thoroughfare that leads from that pretty bridge to the area where the ship was docked. ALL DAY.

The sidewalks were bustling all over the neighborhood. ALL DAY. Which was amazing, for a Monday.

Because of a big ship. I couldn't believe it.

Okay, so I was part of it -- she was docked so close to work that we took a little field trip over there, and even got close to getting on the ship, using our professional wiles, but alas... we could not, though we did get closer to the ship than most spectators.

It was a fun little diversion for an average mid-winter day. But it also made me long for a grand adventure...

Also? This is HILARIOUS.

Bleh...

What an odd weekend this has been. The sun's shining, the temperature's warming up some, and I feel like crap. So this post will be even more disjointed than most.

Even really good vodka can kick you in the ass if you have too much. As I did on Friday night. And then I was awakened much earlier yesterday than I wanted to be by a phone call alerting me to a crisis in a special work project I'd spent a whole lot of time on. Luckily, a few hours later, after several phone calls, I got the news that the crisis had been resolved. Thank goodness. But dealing with that with an extreme hangover was not at all fun.

And now I think the crud that some of my co-workers have been dealing with has finally invaded my system. I've been feeling borderline all week, and I think the vodka may have pushed it over the edge.

Here's a surprise: when I'm at home washing dishes or cooking, I often find myself singing, if I haven't turned on the stereo. Usually it's "Fly Me to the Moon" because I just love that song, even though my voice kinda ruins it for me. Now, I find myself chanting...as in the chants we're learning in hula class. Weird. I'm not sure when that transition happened.

Here's a sign that you've shopped too much: you know your credit card number AND the little secret security code without looking at the card.

Why can't I do a better job of keeping a consistent bedtime? I have always been a night owl, but for the past 15 years or so, I've had to get up awfully early for work. But like a little kid, I fight going to bed early, even though I love to sleep. And can barely stay awake past 11 p.m. I shouldn't even be trying...

I just learned this week that our mailoom guys at work x-ray all of our packages. Well, duh... that makes sense. It just surprised me when one commented that he didn't think the shoes I'd just gotten would fit him. Then he went on to tell me about the dildo they spotted in a package destined for someone else in the building.

From now on, I'll be sure to take special care when having packages sent to work.