9.30.2004
Yes, Another Gay Bar
Made a brief appearance last night at a gay bar that went way past "dive" and into "dump" territory. My friend Just Joe and his ex were there, drinking Anchor Steam and making fun of each other. It was a beautiful thing - it's so fab to see your friends through their ex's eyes. When the sparkly giddy phase of early infatuation has passed and even calm, knowing acceptance has hit the road, and all that's left is a laser-like ability to push each other's buttons. All out of love, natch.
...Note to self: don't trust a gay bar with an entrance that resembles an adult bookstore. Nondescript metal door, dark, dingy, access only through the back of the building. Hmmm. Anyhoo, there was a 2-for-1 special so whee! Two Miller Lites (the Queen of Beers?) for $2.75. I'm going to another gay bar (chi-chi this time) tomorrow night. ...I need to branch out. Obviously.
Picked up the New Times Best of Phx today. We Phoenicians are lucky enough to live in a town where the "best Italian restaurant," year after tasteless year, is the Olive Garden. What's so confusing is that the NT is supposed to be an "alternative" paper, and yet evidently just because you want to see underground theater and read career-destroying gossip about local bigwigs that doesn't mean you won't read the paper over a big bowl of (Grandpa's favorite) Garlic-Herb Chicken con Broccoli. Mmm, that sounds delish. And yes, the wine does go well with the chicken.
Anyhoo, so this alternarag is an enormous issue (tabloid size) and has a semi-gloss cover with some large local rapper and two fugly chicks in bikinis. I am happy to report, however, that though fugly, they are not emaciated. You can even see the bikini string press into the one on the right's flesh. So that is a good thing. And this comes from a girl who tried on her "winter" jeans this morning and can't get them zipped.
What can we call "fat" now? Graciously endowed? Anti-establishment plump? Independently chubby? All I know is that I got this way through hard work - and a lot of drinking. A lotlotlot of drinking. Mostly in conjunction with crying myself to sleep and mourning the death of my marriage. So I earned these extra inches. My god, I feel, well...blessed.
...Note to self: don't trust a gay bar with an entrance that resembles an adult bookstore. Nondescript metal door, dark, dingy, access only through the back of the building. Hmmm. Anyhoo, there was a 2-for-1 special so whee! Two Miller Lites (the Queen of Beers?) for $2.75. I'm going to another gay bar (chi-chi this time) tomorrow night. ...I need to branch out. Obviously.
Picked up the New Times Best of Phx today. We Phoenicians are lucky enough to live in a town where the "best Italian restaurant," year after tasteless year, is the Olive Garden. What's so confusing is that the NT is supposed to be an "alternative" paper, and yet evidently just because you want to see underground theater and read career-destroying gossip about local bigwigs that doesn't mean you won't read the paper over a big bowl of (Grandpa's favorite) Garlic-Herb Chicken con Broccoli. Mmm, that sounds delish. And yes, the wine does go well with the chicken.
Anyhoo, so this alternarag is an enormous issue (tabloid size) and has a semi-gloss cover with some large local rapper and two fugly chicks in bikinis. I am happy to report, however, that though fugly, they are not emaciated. You can even see the bikini string press into the one on the right's flesh. So that is a good thing. And this comes from a girl who tried on her "winter" jeans this morning and can't get them zipped.
What can we call "fat" now? Graciously endowed? Anti-establishment plump? Independently chubby? All I know is that I got this way through hard work - and a lot of drinking. A lotlotlot of drinking. Mostly in conjunction with crying myself to sleep and mourning the death of my marriage. So I earned these extra inches. My god, I feel, well...blessed.
9.29.2004
Game On, Honey
I love this, I can't explain why, really: a gay sports bar in my hood is offering drink specials during football games - totally natch, right? Except the specials here include $2 Giant Mimosas at the second down. And how about access to the Bloody Mary Bar for a mere two bucks at first down? I don't even enjoy watching football, but these deals are too delish for me to pass up.
Game on, sister.
On the musical tip, The Tragically Hip are playing this shithole town next week. I would love to go but my broke ass can't do the $25 ticket (plus drinks, okay? - it would be a big night). Despite the largesse normally associated with an editrix's paycheck, I find myself fiscally challenged lately. I'm going to NYC on the 14th, I've been paying some of Estranged Hubby's bills since July, and I just - moronically - sold my soul to Sleep America for a Kingsdown queen-size mattress. I had to. It called to me. For a sleep fiend like me, the futon I've been rockin' has not been kind. I love the sleek look and the cool bedframe, but the futon mattress itself is an idea best left to inmates and masochists.
Game on, sister.
On the musical tip, The Tragically Hip are playing this shithole town next week. I would love to go but my broke ass can't do the $25 ticket (plus drinks, okay? - it would be a big night). Despite the largesse normally associated with an editrix's paycheck, I find myself fiscally challenged lately. I'm going to NYC on the 14th, I've been paying some of Estranged Hubby's bills since July, and I just - moronically - sold my soul to Sleep America for a Kingsdown queen-size mattress. I had to. It called to me. For a sleep fiend like me, the futon I've been rockin' has not been kind. I love the sleek look and the cool bedframe, but the futon mattress itself is an idea best left to inmates and masochists.
9.27.2004
Rant & Rave & Miss the Previews
I have a problem with going to the movies.
Not only is the popcorn and soda a ripoff, but instead of the movie starting at say, 8:05, the COMMERCIALS start at 8:05. Who authorized this? Like I don't get enough advertising at home? Nobody needs to watch a television commercial at the movie theater. And tv commercials are not supposed to be THAT BIG. The peanut butter cup was as big as a car. Appetizing? Not so much.
There is this fantastically fun (and spooky) sci fi book called "the merchants war" that's all about how advertising agencies take over the world and think of sinister ways to inject advertising into everyday life. i think we're living it. ...As part of my Pathetico Weekendo i watched some of The Wedding Singer and in a 5-minute section of film they mentioned Coca-cola twice and Downy once (plus a long explanation of its benefits), then later it was a big box from Sony and yech, it was too much.
Back to the theaters...I tried to see Napoleon Dynamite with The Estranged Hubby but we didn't even make it through the commercials because there were about 200 12-year-olds making a huge, annoying din and filling up the back of the house. They kept filing in - it was eerily like the one and only time we went to the dinner theater. When the buses of seniors arrived, they were dropped off at the head of the buffet line for prime rib. (They had no horseradish, btw. I suppose it was too dangerous. But lots of "honey carrots." Help.) Anyhoo, while attempting to ride out the commercials and the chaos to see ND, a theater employee had to come in and yell at them to the tune of "shut up or you will be out of here" to which she received catcalls and boos from the rug rats. We were moments away from a tween riot. Estranged hubby and i were not interested in hanging around for it so we went for a drink at Phoenix's best dive bar. It will remain unnamed here, because it's too good to share. See how I am? Okay, it's called the Swizzle Inn and it's genius.
And top finish the movie rant, let's be honest about Garden State, shall we? First of all, it was overwrought and underwritten. God bless Zach Braff for being original, but did everyone have to be sooooo quirky? There were, however, some genius moments (love it when the arrow lands at natalie portman's feet and she pulls her ear). But - ugh - when they first meet - and she's all "i'm crazy, see?" and he's all "i am depressed - repeat - i am depressed" and he goes "what are you listening to" and she says "The Shins" ... oh, i almost walked right out. I LOVE THE SHINS - they are so happy-making - and it was heartbreaking to see them exposed and sullied like that in such a contrived moment. ugh. Plus Ms. Portman looks like she's ELEVEN and her freaky miniature body was too much for me. When he took her to the bar i found it hysterically funny. They should have had a scene where the bartender doesn't believe she's old enough to drink.
Not only is the popcorn and soda a ripoff, but instead of the movie starting at say, 8:05, the COMMERCIALS start at 8:05. Who authorized this? Like I don't get enough advertising at home? Nobody needs to watch a television commercial at the movie theater. And tv commercials are not supposed to be THAT BIG. The peanut butter cup was as big as a car. Appetizing? Not so much.
There is this fantastically fun (and spooky) sci fi book called "the merchants war" that's all about how advertising agencies take over the world and think of sinister ways to inject advertising into everyday life. i think we're living it. ...As part of my Pathetico Weekendo i watched some of The Wedding Singer and in a 5-minute section of film they mentioned Coca-cola twice and Downy once (plus a long explanation of its benefits), then later it was a big box from Sony and yech, it was too much.
Back to the theaters...I tried to see Napoleon Dynamite with The Estranged Hubby but we didn't even make it through the commercials because there were about 200 12-year-olds making a huge, annoying din and filling up the back of the house. They kept filing in - it was eerily like the one and only time we went to the dinner theater. When the buses of seniors arrived, they were dropped off at the head of the buffet line for prime rib. (They had no horseradish, btw. I suppose it was too dangerous. But lots of "honey carrots." Help.) Anyhoo, while attempting to ride out the commercials and the chaos to see ND, a theater employee had to come in and yell at them to the tune of "shut up or you will be out of here" to which she received catcalls and boos from the rug rats. We were moments away from a tween riot. Estranged hubby and i were not interested in hanging around for it so we went for a drink at Phoenix's best dive bar. It will remain unnamed here, because it's too good to share. See how I am? Okay, it's called the Swizzle Inn and it's genius.
And top finish the movie rant, let's be honest about Garden State, shall we? First of all, it was overwrought and underwritten. God bless Zach Braff for being original, but did everyone have to be sooooo quirky? There were, however, some genius moments (love it when the arrow lands at natalie portman's feet and she pulls her ear). But - ugh - when they first meet - and she's all "i'm crazy, see?" and he's all "i am depressed - repeat - i am depressed" and he goes "what are you listening to" and she says "The Shins" ... oh, i almost walked right out. I LOVE THE SHINS - they are so happy-making - and it was heartbreaking to see them exposed and sullied like that in such a contrived moment. ugh. Plus Ms. Portman looks like she's ELEVEN and her freaky miniature body was too much for me. When he took her to the bar i found it hysterically funny. They should have had a scene where the bartender doesn't believe she's old enough to drink.
9.24.2004
Let's Talk
Let's talk for a minute about America's Next Top Model. Again, what is the point of this show? Those girls are not exactly Linda Evangelista, but then what do i know? i just like watching them do the anorexic catfight thing. This time they picked a plus-size girl (read: she uses her teeth for masticating), and she's beautiful to look at, but odds are she'll be dumped by round 2. and everybody is so "mystery ethnic" and it becomes this retarded big deal. "We have to have an Indian girl represented," "She could be the first top model from the Appalachians," "Pygmies are so underrepresented in the fashion world and we're gonna change that, Tyra." whatever. it's like this: pretty? not pretty? form two lines. back fat? jlo booty? over there. cocaine habit? to the left, please. anyone hungry, woozy, dizzy? you haven't eaten since 1997? perfect. you're hired.
9.23.2004
My Very First Post
Where do I begin? With the fun, happy stuff, right? Not the part about my marriage falling apart and my growing dependence on alcohol that mixes with tonic and Parliament Lights. Or the fact that I am so tired of all my friends that I'd rather stay home and read dopey chick lit ("A Certain Chemistry" is awesome; liked "The Dog Walker" and "Love Monkey" too) than go out and see them. Getting a little of that social anxiety back. Getting some of my "back" back, too. The other night at the gym my trainer was there and I seriously thought he was avoiding me. Not a good sign.
This feels a bit self-conscious, especially since I'm at work. Got my Launchcast playing - a little Luna in the background - maybe some Postal Service is coming down the pike, or a Flaming Lip or two...and on that topic, am I just plain evil for not wanting to hear songs by indie bands I like being blasted across the WB and MTV like they're PUBLIC DOMAIN? Of course you want your favorite bands to achieve great success (without selling out) and move next door to Russell Simmons, blah blah blah, but it makes my boozy blood boil to think of Hilary Duff-loving tweens being turned on to Death Cab for Cutie because they can stay up late enough to watch the O.C. It's just so wrong - just so, so wrong. And by the way, I'm kind of in blog-shock right now because the Flaming Lips did just come on Ye Olde Internet Radio. Sometimes, life is sweet.
And this has to be enough for one day. I can't put in another 5 minutes with any sort of good feelings...must...get...back to...work. (That was my Captain Kirk impression, btw. There are several things that always make me laugh, and a good Captain Kirk impression is one of them. Mine is not good, no.)
Other things that are a guaranteed giggle?
1. Straight men in drag.
2. People who trip and then look back like, "wha?"
3. Mispronunciation of the words "nuclear" or "foliage"
4. Marvin Suggs and the Muppaphones doing the "Witch Doctor" on the episode with Gilda Radner
5. When someone peers over the top of your Veal Tank (some call them "cubicles") and looks like a disembodied head. And then they speak. Pure comedy.
I know. I need help. Tomorrow's installment? "Tales from the bar." Hold on to your hats.
This feels a bit self-conscious, especially since I'm at work. Got my Launchcast playing - a little Luna in the background - maybe some Postal Service is coming down the pike, or a Flaming Lip or two...and on that topic, am I just plain evil for not wanting to hear songs by indie bands I like being blasted across the WB and MTV like they're PUBLIC DOMAIN? Of course you want your favorite bands to achieve great success (without selling out) and move next door to Russell Simmons, blah blah blah, but it makes my boozy blood boil to think of Hilary Duff-loving tweens being turned on to Death Cab for Cutie because they can stay up late enough to watch the O.C. It's just so wrong - just so, so wrong. And by the way, I'm kind of in blog-shock right now because the Flaming Lips did just come on Ye Olde Internet Radio. Sometimes, life is sweet.
And this has to be enough for one day. I can't put in another 5 minutes with any sort of good feelings...must...get...back to...work. (That was my Captain Kirk impression, btw. There are several things that always make me laugh, and a good Captain Kirk impression is one of them. Mine is not good, no.)
Other things that are a guaranteed giggle?
1. Straight men in drag.
2. People who trip and then look back like, "wha?"
3. Mispronunciation of the words "nuclear" or "foliage"
4. Marvin Suggs and the Muppaphones doing the "Witch Doctor" on the episode with Gilda Radner
5. When someone peers over the top of your Veal Tank (some call them "cubicles") and looks like a disembodied head. And then they speak. Pure comedy.
I know. I need help. Tomorrow's installment? "Tales from the bar." Hold on to your hats.
