All we need is a chalk outline.

They're doing some major renovations to the building at work - probably to compete with the Yahoo! folks across the street. My department is being moved from the posh, private third floor, down to the first floor and into a new area that looks like a sweatshop in less than a week. Seriously, thank God that FB started fashion school - I'm gonna need some pointers when they move in the sewing machines I start making Gucci on the sly. The old area was right next to the executive, one-at-a-time washrooms. The new one doesn't even have an employees-only men's room. I have to share with the public. Granted, I won't have to wait in line like the billion ladies down there, but still. Anyhow that's not the point. The point is the second floor is downrght frightening now. They're tearing down basically every wall except for the bathrooms and making one big room out of what used to be about six different large rooms, each housing about two departments. They've laid down sheet plastic on the ground so as not to ruin the carpet. When you get off of the elevator, this is what you see (interior view of the padded-wall elevator follows):



Proceed down the darkened hallway, toward the light and push through the sheet plastic...


...until you hit total devastation:
Did I mention people are still working on this floor during construction? Makes my brush with the public bathroom seem, well...ah, hell - who am I kidding? No matter how scary that second floor gets, I'm still pissed of about that!

-J.

This post was sponsored by Tear Down This Wall! Committee.

Thanksgiving '05: The Post Game Wrap-Up

After last year's fun but ultimately draining Thanksgiving, I declared that this year I wasn't cooking or hosting. So when friends invited myself (and everybody's pal FB) over, I jumped at the chance. I even managed to slip out of most of the softball assignment I got - a salad and a bottle of wine. FB lovingly labored over the salad, perfecting the taste to his liking, leaving me to choose a wine for myself, which I did in less than five minutes at the supermarket (a 2004 Pinor Noir, FYI). FB almost bought a wine called Cockburn's but he decided to go with something, um, less in your face. I know - I was surprised, too.

We arrived about a half and hour before food was set to start. Salad was set down, hellos were exchanged, introductions were made. Oh, and wine was poured. Freely. And Often. A little background: as people are wont to do on days like this, breakfast was skipped. As lunchtime approached, FB and I realized we'd ruin our appetites if we ate lunch. Not wanting to insult our gracious hosts, we did what any sensible gay man and his BFF would do - we went to The Coffee Bean and got one large Iced Blended apiece to tide us over and keep our energy. Needless to say, that first glass of wine did plenty more to me than it usually would have. By the third glass, I was almost falling over in front of new people. Luckily they seemed amused by it. The food was served slightly late, leaving me no choice but to have a fourth glass. Tipsy and social, with plenty funny to boot, I felt like Goldie Hawn (more on her later). Anyway, the meal was delicious. The man of the house outdid himself. My favorite dish was the stuffing - the sausage stuffing, that is. That elicited as many giggles at the table as it did as I typed (and hopefully, as you read it!).

The cast of characters was as rich as the menu. Besides the adorable host and hostess, there was a British actress and her husband, a hilarious single gal who was so funny she deserves two sitcoms and a Friar's club roast, a young and lovely married gay couple, a young and lovely married straight couple, a really cute and funny 'mo, and a smattering of other hilarious folks ("The Rest") who came in a little later, and of course FB and yours truly. At any point, I expected a live reenactment of Clue to break out. It would have been awesome. Alas, something even better happened: bad dating and Hollywood horror stories. Being that more than half of the attendees work the back half (aka the thankless jobs) in the entertainment industry, there were quite a few brilliant stories shared about "the talent." I can't share the names* of the horror stories because I don't want to get anyone in trouble. But I can tell you what I learned without names:

1. Certain pop stars are very attached to their dogs. And while they leave said dog in their suite in order to flit about an amusement park, their boy toys will sometimes venture down a strip club and bring home a "friend." This cause much hilarious I Love Lucy-like scrambling in order to avoid a full-on diva explosion.
2. B-level sitcom stars can get really demanding and bitchy for no good. Karma's a bitch as they very often end up out of a job and without a limelight.
3. B-level movie stars can be even worse, despite an even steeper drop from fame's heights.
4. A-level superstars can manage to travel without demands, just the basics.
5. A-level movie stars often book out all of first class so they can bring along their same-sex "friend."
6. Certain Oscar winners are very cheap and try to cheat you out of more comped tickets than they deserve.
7. Executives are, of course, far worse than stars could ever be.
8. Goldie Hawn is exactly as you would imagine, only nicer and funnier apparently. (OK, one name just to tide you over).
9. If a guy with a really, really small penis invites you to Micronesia, say yes. Just because the joke is too good to be passed up.
10. A 20-minute long blind date may equal disaster, but it makes a for great party joke story.

I learned more, but you get the point. A good time was had by all and a drama-free Thanksgiving was had. Next year, maybe, just maybe I'll cook again. But if I'm promised gossip and red-wine drunkeness within minutes of arriving, I'm taking the invite and bringing the salad, no question.

-J.

*Yes, if I know you in person, or if we ever meet, I will happily blab the names and details to you. Duh!

This post was sponsored by the Sausage Stuffing (tee hee!) Committee.

So we end as we began...

The Week In Reviews, Day 5:
The Week In Reveiws

That's right, folks, I'm so lazy that I'm going to do a review of five (ok, four) days of reviews. I justify this because A) I'm lazy - were you not reading a second ago? and B) It serves as a good recap post for those who may have missed this week because of the holidays and such.

Monday we discussed Jane Austen, or more specifically a high school production of Pride & Prejudice. I considered paying to see the movie and compare the two, but I still say Keira Knightley owes my nudes of Orlando Bloom. Also, because my little aside about Bridget Jones' Diary, I had a a dream this week where I beat up Renee Zellweger. Hardly a fair fight as I eat three square meals a day, but I felt better when I woke up. (Can I say that?!?!) Grade: A.

Tuesday I went into Kurt Loder-lite mode, weaving two music reviews into one post. I kinda lost the plot halfway through this post, possibly because I was listening to both CDs and shaking my booty and/or singing loudly as I typed. Still, any excuse to give a shout out to Cyndi Lauper is good enough for me. She's seriously underrated. And that damn Madonna CD is growing on me by the day. I can't help but bounce to "Jump" and "Push" brings out the Justin Timberlake wanna-be B-Boy in me. Just when they thought I couldn't get any gayer... Grade: B-.

Wednesday we ventured to the movies. I do really think this was my favorite Harry Potter adventure yet. I'm no fanatic and I haven't read the books, but I really enjoy these movies. The onset of puberty at Hogwarts is a little dusturbing, but one you get over how pretty Hermione is getting or the fact that Harry has armpit hair, it's a rollicking good time. The beauty of that Superman Returns trailer didn't hurt. And neither did my roommate getting those people kicked out of the theater for bringing their child to a 10:40p showing. Grade: A.

Thursday was a big day. For those of you joining just for the recap, this was not only Thanksgiving, it was my year anniversary as a blogger. Granted, many of those first months had maybe a post or two, but pobody's nerfect. And I would be remiss (as I was in that post), if I didn't thank FB: for his invaluable contributions, for being the only reader for those first few months, and for pushing me to blog in the first place. I know you guys miss him and I do, too, even though I get a ten posts worth from him on the phone every few days. T-Day left me pretty tired and I worked today, so this post lacked a true synopsis of a great feast with lots of funny characters. That's coming Monday, as it did last year. Grade: B+.

So, yes, today's post was lazy, but actually a lot of fun to write. I always struggle on Fridays, especially since nobody really reads and I post later than most folks read on normal days. Here's hoping those of who weekend-read or early-morning Monday read enjoy this. I'd give it a B- for spunk and laziness coming together, meaning the week looks better than most of my report cards ever did. I'm gonna treat myself to ice cream for this one - Score!

See you Monday, kids. I hope every gets a restful, leftover-filled weekend. Only a month of shopping days left! (Sorry, I couldn't resist.)

-J.

This post was sponsored by the Wanna Be Boy Committee.

Giving, thanking, blogging.

Today is Thanksgiving Day. More on that later. Today is also my one-year Blog-o-versary. I don't think many of you were here for the first post. Here's a recap:

In the beginning...

It's really come to this. After years of annoying friends, family, and anyone within the sound of my voice, I feel compelled to bother anyone and everyone who Googles certain subject matter. Let me start this one of on the right foot: Sorry about that. Feel free to hit that handy little "Back" button on whatever portal it is you've gotten here through now. I promise I won't be offended.

That all still applies. But in a show of gratitude appropriate to the day, I feel compelled to say Thank You to all of you haven't hit that "Back" button. Thanks to those of you who have blogrolled, commented, emailed and generally wished well. This has been an amazing experience and continues to be. As if I didn't spend enough time in front a computer, you all have given me some great excuses to fritter away more hours. I hope you find that I've done a little of the same.

Last Thanksgiving, I was grateful for a few things. This year I'm still grateful for those things and tons more. The loved ones who've stuck by me in good and bad are at the top of the list. This year I spent T-Day with a group people I'd never met and had the best time sitting around and talking TV and the backside of the entertainment industry. It was the kind of Thanksgiving after-dinner conversation you could only have in L.A. - I wish I could share details but unless I know you in person, I can't share. But I will have as complete a write-up as possible tomorrow. Funny stuff and most of it will be true!

Nobody's reading over the holiday, I imagine, but like I said, I'm thankful anyone's reading at all. Here's to another year, kids.

-J.

This post was sponsored by the Thank You, Indians Native Americans Committee.

The Week In Reviews! Day 3:
Harry Potter & The Goblet of Fire

OK, so we've done live "theater" and music so far. The time has come for a movie review. But really, it'll just be a review of the moviegoing experience. The movie is great but I won't spoil it for the handful of you interested folks who haven't seen it. Suffice to say, the Harry & Ron sex scene doesn't disappoint...

(And I can just say how hard it was not to make a Thanksgiving joke out of that title? The Giblet of Fire or
The Gobble-It of Fire were both contenders but ultimately I decided to waste your time by putting it here, instead. Tee hee! )

Before actually going into the theater, my group (the roommate, her boyfriend and her younger brother and sister) ventured into the Barnes & Noble next door. It wasn't long before the obligatory celeb sighting occurred. Indeed, Steve from Sex & The City was there - barely taller than me and very gray with a closer cropped haircut than I"m currently rocking (yes, I got tired of growing my hair out and shaved it last weekend. It's been a hit, oddly...) But once you get your nightly celebwatch out of the way, it's time to hit the stadium seating.

Our hopes were raised when we arrived and were the only people seated. Lil' Bro made shadow puppets and played around with the stupid ads for real estate before people finally started filtering in. Seriously, how many people see a 10:40p showing on a Tuesday? Apparently a lot - including the people next to use who brought their four-year old (she might have been three). Even my child-hating ass felt sorry for this little girl who was obviously up way past her bedtime. Halfway through the trailers, my roommate displayed her greatest superpower: The Tattle Tale of Death. She was gone from her seat only long enough to miss the Superman Returns trailer (a thing of beauty, really. This geek nearly cried!). She returned in time to witness the manager follow the dad down the stairs as he took the child to the restroom. He returned less than a minute later alone. Now, I don't understand Tagalog, but I distinctly heard the word "complained" as he ushered his wife out in shame. Score one for the girl who pays half the rent.

Other than that, the most profound observation I have to offer is that the state of animated films is in the toilet. A Madagascar rip off - I know, so soon? - called (Over The Hedge) and some stupid penguin adventure where every voice sounds like Robin Williams are all I remember. Here's hoping Disney and Pixar kiss and make up pronto. Oh and that fake animated trailer about the plucky eagle who rescues her father turns out to be an "Turn down your cell phone, idiot!" ad. If only they had a, "Silence your child (or God forbid, get a sitter!) lest J's roommate bitchslap you" ad. King Kong looks like some darn good CGI work, but how can you tell this story in anything more than an hour and a half? Still, that fight with the T-Rex looks pretty cool.

But we all know that Superman, even the Tom Welling version, could beat them both up. Seriously, I'm choking up a little right now...

-J.

This post was sponsored by the The Cryin', the Witch, and the Homo Committee.

Moms just wanna have fun, too.

The Week In Reviews! Day 2:
Confessions On A Dance Floor, Madonna & The Body Acoustic, Cyndi Lauper

In 1983, there was a less catty and more interesting discussion in pop music than the Britney vs. Christina debate - Madonna or Cyndi Lauper. When two plucky Italian gals burst onto the pop charts, music critics did what they do best: compare apples and oranges. Most agreed that Cyndi was the more talented and picked her for the long haul. Madonna was a flash-in-the-pan who would be forgotten in a year or two. It's hard to argue with their initial reaction. She's So Unusual remains one of the most striking debuts in pop music history and it spawned four top five singles. As solid a dance record as Madonna was, it was a hardly breaking ground. But we all know how the story goes: Ms. Lauper scored only a handful of hit singles (most notably "True Colors," "I Drove All Night" and, yes - "The Goonies 'R' Good Enough") through the rest of the decade while Ms. Ciccone proceeded to take over the world.

In truth, there was never any contest in the business department. Cyn, like most of us, lacked Madge's business sense and naked ambition (that pro wrestling stint didn't help album sales, I'm sure) even while her own vocal talent far outshone any other measure of success. Her two follow-ups to Unusual were creatively spotty at best and the two studio releases since were great but received little attention. Far from a has been, but also far from a star anymore, she's perhaps been most prominent in recent opening act duties for divas like Cher and Tina Turner. Anyone at those shows can attest to the fact that the successful sales couldn't match passion and vocal fireworks she puts on, to say nothing of her standards showcase, the spare a beautiful At Last album from a couple of years ago. (I saw her win over a Tina crowd with a set that included only three big hits mixed in with all-new material. Did I mention she was six months pregnant at the time?)

But that's a fixed fight, too. Nobody has ever listened to Madonna for her voice. Well, not her singing one, anyhow. So with their most recent releases out within a week of one another, the opportunity came to reappraise the years gone by.

The Body Acoustic is obviously the idea of some record exec, right down to the misleading title (electric instruments show up - this ain't an Unplugged session) - it's a mix of hits, overlooked songs, and new numbers. Given that there are already two domestic hits collections, this is hardly necessary. But the fact that Cyndi Lauper is obviously not bored with those first five hits (yup, half of She's So Unusual is revisted here) sells this more than it has the right to be sold. If "She Bop" comes off a little serious for a number about masturbation, "Money Changes Everything," in particular really comes alive in it's new clothes. Not surprisingly, it's the newer numbers that seem most at home here, though. And "Shine" (the title track from a "lost" album only available in a Japanese import pressing) screams "I shoulda been a hit, dammit!" C'est la vie. She was barely concerned with stardom then and is making a good life and good music these days. And it's hard not to get into an album when you already know and love 80 percent of the material. If Sony would just let her release an album of original material now that she's done what they want, maybe they can convince her to record a fourth version of "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun" in 2015 when she's in her 60s!

Madonna, on the other hand, couldn't be more concerned with reconnecting to the public. Although there are no re-recordings on Confessions Of A Dance Floor, it's so rife with winking and nodding by way of referencing old songs, dyed-in-the-wool fans will have no end to playing the "catch the lyrical/melodical" game (FB's great catch: listen to "Push" and sing along the lyrics of "Like A Prayer"). There's even a little shoutout to Kylie Minogue's "Love At First Sight" on the very Kylie-sounding "Get Together." Rest assured, this isn't a sign of being out of ideas - it's a calculated move to make you shake your booty and remember why she made you fall in love with her despite the vocal shortcomings in the first place. On that level, Confessions succeeds brilliantly. "Sorry" is already making the buzz as the next single and the gays (especially Chip) seem to love it. As far as attempts to get back into public good graces after a flop, it's pretty darn ballsy to put out an all-dance record with no breaks between tracks. One caveat, though emptores - turn up the bass. Like your mom getting you take out the trash, the record sometimes needs to thump you to make you move. It took a few spins for me to like it, but even my two left feet can help but move more than a little now.

I'm not even going to attempt the score. Yes, Cyndi Lauper is still by far a better singer but Madonna is still a brilliant tactician who can't be counted out. My record collection, like my gay resume, wouldn't be complete with either of them. But despite Cyn's wrestling experience, I bet Madonna's Pilates & Yoga routine would ensure her a win in the squared circle...

-J.

This post was sponsored by the She Bops Like A Virgin! Committee.

Jane Austen's Diary

When I was in high school, I was a journalism geek. My senior year was spent toiling as the editor of the news section. I didn't like it, but I had a talent for it. To keep myself happy, I wrote music and film reviews. This week I thought I'd indulge and do a little of the same, especially since with the holiday coming up, I'll be sporadically in front of my home computer at best. So here I give you:
The Week In Reviews!
Day 1: Pride & Prejudice

That's right, kids. I spent some time with Jane Austen this Saturday. No, I didn't spend money to see Keira Knightley sloppily kiss her Mr. Darcy (I don't care if Judi Dench kicks ass in another 5 minute cameo. After Domino, Keira owes me nude pictures of Orlando Bloom!). I went back to my old high school and saw a real-live teenage production. The results were, predictably, mixed. Some kids have it, some kids don't, and some just lack the ability to gauge when they're "screaming" as opposed to "projecting" in a black box production where the sound reverberates and stings your ears. Such are the problems with high school productions. For kids, by kids. As they say, "This ain't Shakespeare." Even when it is, it usually sucks.

Now, my alma mater does have an above-average drama program. This time around it wasn't to be, but usually the productions are quite good. But the performances weren't the problem this night. It was the subject matter. I can't stand stories where women are defined by their choice in men. While Pride is ultimately not that, there is enough to it (especially in the first act) to make me mad.

For those among us who are Austen challenged, this key might help. Bridget Jones' Diary is loosely a modern spin on the story. The character of Elizabeth is Bridget Jones. Mr. Darcy is Colin Firth (autuer Helen Fielding liked his performance in a BBC production of P&P so much that his last name is Darcy in Jones as well) and Hugh Grant is the buffonish Mr. Collins oops! Thanks to Lady T. I now know he's more Mr. Wickham (see what happens when you don't read kids?). Now, the comparison isn't perfect. For one thing, Elizabeth is waay smarter than Bridget - she dumps her oaf early on while Ms. Jones toils over a rather obvious choice. Also, I can't stand Renee Zellweger. But that's another point entirely.

The point is that the director of the drama program is very staunchly feminist. I can get behind that, but I realized that she's fond of stories that are heavy of female leads (men are more of a plot device in this piece than anything else), yet they do nothing to edify women. "The girl is incomplete without a boy" message is the reason I hate Winona Ryder movies. Not that I'm an expert or anything, but if there aren't good roles out there, I'd start going with broad comedies and brooding dramas.

Granted, Pride & Prejudice is set during a time when women couldn't own property. It's not Jane Austen's fault there. But I think you get my point: When life makes you choose between the foppish cute guy whoe won't grow up or a man who's handsome smart and combative, choose Colin Firth. If you doubt me, watch Love, Actually.

-J.

This post was sponsored by the Clueless was a better Austen update than Bridget Jones! Committee.

Hate Night

I know I can seem like a nice guy. Much of the time, I am. But I'm also an evil little prick sometimes. For example: on Halloween we saw two adorable little twink fluffs dressed as soldiers confessing their tweaked-out love for each other in the middle of a crowd neither could see because their eyes were locked in each other's gaze. Recapping the evening later, The Princess pined to be that innocent again. "Oh, they'll learn soon enough...", she said, meaning nothing more than that their hearts would break eventually. My response? "Yeah. Either that or one of them will overdose." Laughs were had, jaws dropped, and a friend simply responded, "Well, it's all roses and sunshine for you all the time isn't it?" Just par for the course when it comes to me. Some days the twin whose mostly sunny with funny, sarcastic jabs is in charge. Others, the sarcastic twin with a few sunny observations is at the wheel. Either way, my confirmed status as a hater is well-earned and worn proudly. What's my point? There is no point. Some days, I just ramble cause something's in my head. What else you here for - if you want smart and informative, dial up Jake.

***

You know what makes me laugh? Old people swearing and children crying. Now before you think that I'm a total ass, let me explain. I don't like kids to genuinely be in pain, but some situations are undeniably. Like many, many years ago when I was watching an old wrestling tape (don't ask) with some high school friends. "Macho Man" Randy Savage was tied up in the ropes by Jake "The Snake" Roberts. Jake produced, after some theatrics, a cobra which proceeded to bite the Macho Man on his steroid-filled biceps. (Come to think of it, I wonder who was in more danger there. I hope the snake got a tetnus shot.) Cut to the shot of a boy, maybe three, four years old in the crowd: crying and screaming and clearly yelling, "Mommy!" before burying himself in his mother's shoulder. I'm sorry - maybe you had to be there, but this was hilarious. I had no interest in wrestling, no matter how tight the shorts got, but I made them rewind that several times for my amusement. Who brings a three-year old to a wrestling match? Probably the same family who brought a kindergartner to see Domino a few weeks ago. I know, I know: "Thanks for sharing you sick, twisted, child hating bastard." You know what? I 'm still laughing. I'm just that kind of hater. Join the Armi if you're looking for a genuinely nice, kid friendly person.

***

Alright, that's enough filler for one night. We're only one week til Thanksgiving and the blow-out Thanksgiving Day post. Trust me, you won't want to miss it. T-Day will be a big day for Hot & Fresh. Hotter, fresher, and dare I say it? cuter than usual. Be there or, um, catch up the next day. It's not like TV where if you don't have TV you'll have to set a tape or watch it during hiatus. That's what the Snark-hives are for.

G'night kids!

-J.

This post was sponsored by the Macy's Day Haterade Float Committee.

The Welcome Wagon.

So I'm getting new neighbors. They've been tearing up the ground and laying down subterranean parking for months now a few blocks from my place and across the train tracks from work. I found out a few weeks ago, but just yesterday the sign went up and alerted the whole world:It appears that the fine folks at Yahoo! Search Marketing (can anyone explain to me what they do exactly?) are moving to Burbank. As a transplant myself, I thought I'd take the time and give them a few pointers:

1. No, that is not an earthquake. The trains go by all day and if your building expects to survive the inevitable quakes, it's on rollers. Trains simulate this gently. It also means that when a real one hits, unless it's a pounder and something above a 4.0, you won't think anything of it until it's passed.
2. Oddly, the planes flying overhead aren't that loud. Unless they insulated your building cheaper than they did my apartments. If they did that, I'd quit and go work for, um AltaVista or something.
3. This guy parks right across the street from you. If he's working for you, don't fire him but encourage him to quit. Having a red Civic is just tacky.
4. Watch out for the cops. They're bored and they only have one city to patrol, unlike the LAPD. They'll bust you on anything, especially if you don't look like a native.
5. There's a Target, a Best Buy, & assorted food places just down the street. Unfortunately, it is often packed with the dregs of humanity. Go during off-peak hours, which is to say: avoid until January.
6. Yield for pedestrians, especially when they have a walk signal. This isn't Glendale, fer cryin' out loud!
7. If you like Thai food, you can't beat Thai House. I recommend the Lard Na, but I hear the Chicken Pad Thai is awesome as well.
8. There are three AMC theatres in about a block radius. Don't go to the one inside the mall (unless you're seeing an art house film the other two aren't showing) - it's full of teenagers and all of the screens are tiny.
9. A short distance from you is an area called Toluca Lake. They call it that, but we all know it is just Burbank for rich folks. The difference is, because they're stupid, they have to call the LAPD for assistance. Also, it is mostly populated with screenwriter/actor/delusional transplants who try and run you over with their carts at Trader Joe's.
10. Finally, if you see me walking around - I'll be the cutie, probably in some Superman t-shirt, ignore me. I have enough friends, dammit!

Well, that turned out to be more than I expected. Not just good advice for the new Yahoos moving in, but for all who might visit/move to/work in the grand city of Burbank, California, home to me and the great Patton Oswalt!

-J.

This post was sponsored by the Yahoo! - Serious? Committee.

Hola, kids! I took an double extended weekend feel much better for it. Can anyone else believe how soon Thanksgiving will be upon us? I sure as hell can't, but there is a great post coming here on Thanksgiving Day. Tune in - I promise you won't be disappointed or your money back. I'll be shaking my booty to the new Madonna disc (good, but not consistently great, IMHO)* while doing some Fall cleaning for tonight. I leave you with this:

While wandering the aisles at my local shopping center the other night, I stumbled upon something in a Christmas aisle which made me think of our good friend Jake:



The shelf was full of stuff that had nothing to do with the season in question, so I have no idea what the ornament was supposed to be, but if I were coming out with Cher-inspired Christmas products I would call the line Do You Believe? and it would definitely include A Three Kings music box that plays "Gypsies, Tramps, & Theives" (I once heard this song on a player piano at an old-fashioned ice-cream parlor. Classic.) And a Nativity Scene snowglobe that plays "I Found Someone." And a Holy Family nightlight that plays "I Got You, Babe."

OK, I'll stop now before I'm instantly condemned to hell (as opposed to that gradual slide I'm ewpecting...). Unless I think of more. Then I'll post 'em.

-J.

*For a differing opinion of Confessions On A Dance Floor, go here. As soon as she gets the birthday present I sent her, my sister should have a glowing review.

This post was sponsored by the Ho! Just 40 Shopping Days Left. Ho! Committee

Um, advertise much?

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I know it's early,but...

Who loves me enough to buy my this?

Just a little more U2

My co-worker who was also at the concert last week emailed me this shot from her seats. The Edge comes a little closer to getting his due with this shot. I hear there's a few more coming from friends of hers who got even closer than we did to the stage.

Lost returns tonight. I'll be posting later than usual, but I'll be here...

-J.

Leave This!

In a city known for it's eternal sunshine, I have proof of a seasonal change. Today, as I meandered the streets to get lunch, I discovered a treasure trove near the park. By my local fire station (aka my polling place. And no, I didn't vote today. I vote absentee.) were TONS of fall leaves, with different colors and whatnot. It isn't too often you see these in L.A. so while this is not much to many of you, it's always a treat for me. Here's some more evidence:

Mundane? Maybe a little, but it's the little things that keep us sane some days.

In other news, my music listening has been set on random something major lately. For an example, here's the playlist that has been running as I cleaned my room, folded laundry and blogged tonight (click for the readable view):

What has this got to do with anything? Not a thing. It's just helps pad out the post and gives everyone further proof of how oddly my brain is wired.

I'm now off to listen to the new Kate Bush album. 12 years in the waiting...no pressure, right? Night kids!

-J.

This post was sponsored by the Spring Into Fall Committee.

Dear Joni,

On your birthday, I wanted to write you something as meaningful and as beautiful as those word and music of yours that mean so much to me. Coming from a mere mortal,that would be impossible. So I'll shoot from the heart and hope it touches the hem. I'll avoid any unnecessary "Both Sides, Now" references.

I think I was 11 when I discovered that battered copy of Blue in my aunt's record collection.Every line, every groove, has taught me something new every time I spin it. I didn't get "A Case of You" until I'd really had my heart broken ("If you want me, I'll be in the bar" wasn't exactly common 6th grade lingo!). When that tape finally wore out, I ventured out and bought every album I could find. Although it didn't happen right away, I loved something about each and every one (especially the ones most folks hated). When I finally saw you in concert, I heard a piece of my life click into place.

My favorite song of yours is one the last original pieces of music and lyric we were graced with before you walked away from it all:


During times like these, the wise are influential
They can bear the imperfections, they can keep the harmony
No doubt about it, no doubt that's essential
No doubts! That's always been a tricky one for me...
So on this day, I will sit back and listen to my favorites and think about about all of the good times and all of the bad times your music has been there with me for. From those spare, acoustic early works to the final, sweeping orchestral pieces - I always found something for me and for others I love. I've always been fond of giving out your music as gifts. Today, I hope I gave back a small gift to you for what you've given me.

Happy Birthday, Joni Mitchell.

Stay In Touch,
-J.

Zoo TV 2005

The U2 concert. I'm still recovering in the best way possible. After a concert fiasco or two this year, I needed this good and loud a show. The tear-inducing moments were, predictably "One" and "Sometimes You Can't Make It On Your Own." Thank heavens they didn't play "Kite" or "Stuck In A Moment You Can't Get Out Of" - I was fountain of tears last time I saw them play. I hate being one of those people...

What can I say that isn't already hidden somewhere in these blurry little pixels? Seeing The Larry Mullen Band U2 live makes me so happy. And surprisingly, the crowd wasn't bad at all. No fights broke out that I was responsible for. A few girls got into a shoving match, but that was amusing. And during the opening act - Bob Marley's son, Damien - someone decided to get in touch with their Jamaican roots. Many other folks got in touch with their, um, Irish roots in a similar fashion through the U2 set. This blitz of red light was during the opener, "Vertigo."

FB loves Larry Mullen, Jr. like no other. He always has. So I tried as hard as I could to get a good shot. This was the best of the bunch. Larry had celebrated his birthday the night before. He's finally starting to show his age, but still has the best arms ever. Oh yeah, and he's one hell of drummer.

Adam always looked the oldest of the boys, but in the many years since his hair went gray, time has stood still. You can't tell from this silhouette, but take my word for it. He looks and plays great (and a little like Leonard Cohen), especially for someone who was best know for his party boy, model-loving antics back in the day. And he had a smile on his face the whole show. Come to think, so did I. :)

This, sadly, is as close to a picture of The Edge as I could get. He was to left most of the show and the four pics I snapped didn't come out at all. So this shot of his hand an guitar on the far left of the screen is as good as it gets. But we really love you Edge - especially since you live in Malibu now! I love how Rattle & Hum the screen shots looked throughout the show.

One hell of a capper to my whirlwind week before returning to my quiet nights in the BC. Fiction and odd musings resume Monday. Have a good weekend, kids!

-J.

This post was sponsored by the Salt Water Kisses Committee.

u2

The concert was awesome. My ears are still ringing and my heart is still pounding. I pre-scheduled today off from work to recover. Good call. I've got some quality time to spend staring at the walls of The Cave.

"Some things you shouldn't get too good at - like crying, smiling, & celebrity..." The lone star sighting of the night: Topher Grace. As FB noted before realizing who he'd just checked out, "That guy's cute." He seemed unassuming and not going for the VIP treatment. Also, not as tall as I imagined, but that's TV for ya.

If I can muster it, later I'll have some more detailed accounting of the concert, possibly with more blurry cell-phone pics!

-J.

This post was sponsored by the Slow Down My Beating Heart Committee.

Halloween.

In some circles it's known as the Gay Christmas. Where to begin about my Halloween? Well, pre-Halloween you know a little about. The two year-old's costume party - I was lazy and went in the all-too-fashionable Clark Kent "costume" (you've seen it - the Superman shirt beneath a button down).

Yesterday to get a free lunch at work, I replicated that costume (as an aside, I first rocked that about 8 years ago, long before everyone and their mother was doing it!). The day was a blur of non-productivity. I returned to the Butterfly Cave, ready to change into costume. My groceries were scheduled to arrive by 6p and the Princess & FB dropped by earlier to get into costume. Despite my hermetic tendencies, I was able to be coaxed out for the annual WeHo celebration this year.

As for last night, I'm just gonna give a Reader's Digest version - the long story made it sound too much like I didn't have fun. (Maybe I didn't, but do you really wanna read about that?!?!)

FB created a fabulous Joker outfit and I put together a somewhat skanky Robin getup. The Princess put on devil horns and some kick ass red eyelashes. After the drama of the groceries arrving nearly 45 minutes late, we headed over a mesh-clad friend's place and made our way down. It took nearly an hour in crushing traffic (from Silverlake, by the way!) but we finally got the honor of paying $20 bucks to park a mile away.

Noteworthy costumes included:
- Hurricane Katrina (two guys spinning in clouds - you had to see it to believe it)
- Hurricane Katrina victims (two guys sitting on the "roof" of their costume - ditto)
- White Lies (i.e. "the checks in the mail," "we have no WMDs," etc.)
- More than life-size puppets of Jack Skellington & Zero (from The Nightmare Before Christmas), operated by a guy dressed as Johnny Depp's character from Sleepy Hollow.

The Batmen were a poor crop. A few kiddie Batmen waved at me and few pedophiles leered. The best of the lot were the lone cool looking one who was attached to Wonder Woman - and how can a Boy Wonder compete with that? - and a Batwoman who scared me a little, but I couldn't discount how cool woman with an Afro in a Batman outfit is. So sadly, there was no photo op to be had with a Batman.

Also, I think I got gypped by the gyro lady. She swore I gave her a ten, but I think I might have given her a twenty. So I may have paid $19 for gyro and a 7-Up.

The crowd crush was a bit much. Some guy kept ramming his camara into my back and pulling on my cape, choking me more than a little. I'm more than a little claustrophobic, so he picked the wrong Robin to piss of. After a few nice and a few not-so nice attempts at asking him to back up a little, I turned around and socked him in the chest. He finally backed up. (My horoscope for yesterday read, "Your Halloween alter ego: a classic superhero, especially Superman or Wonder Woman. Close enough!)

Problems aside, I'm glad I didn't bone out on the plans like I thought I might and I'm glad I emerged from The Cave, however briefly. FB & I have tickets for Wednesday's u2 concert. They're general admission floor tickets, so I'll have to brave the crush again. But with a concert going on, all should be well. And if, not, now I know I don't hit like a girl. If you hear of a riot breaking out at the Staples Center, that was probably me.

Happy All Saints Day, kids!
- J.

This post was sponsored by the Support Your Local Sidekick Committee.