A Day in the Life...

What I did today:
1. Woke up at 9:30ish AM, drank from water bottle by bed
2. Walked up to Starbucks for an iced venti non-fat latte
3. Walked back home
4. Finished movie with Cameron Diaz, Kate Winslet, Jude Law & Jack Black called "The Holiday." It was pretty good. And old lady wrote and directed it and I love how they always put the actresses in a scene where they drink too much then lip-synch and dance around crazy to a pop song.
5. I ate a mini-bagel with low-fat strawberry cream cheese.
6. Then I ate chips and very spicy salsa.
7. The I went to Walgreens to get the following items: cotton rounds, mascara, vitamin water, macadamia nuts, moleskin and false eyelashes.
8. Then I came home and checked my email for the 14th time.
9. I turned on YOuTube (because I'm addicted) to watch my favorite lady, truly my new inspiration and heronine: Leslie Hall.
Check 'er out!

Well, that's it. Riveting, n'est pas?

A pain in the neck...

Did you know you can get whiplash without being in a car crash? I found out it's true because I got it. And it really f'n hurts. I've been icing and ibuprophin-ing 'round the clock and Franken-chic is not pretty.

New Book, New Happy Hour...

So, in prepping for what may be a SERIOUS blog upcoming soon (hopefully things work out), I've decided to begin chronicling what I've already been doing since I first landed in "Keep It Weird" Portland. Taking a new book out on a date to a new Happy Hour. This week I went to Silk (http://www.silkbyphovan.com/) noted for it's yummy Vietnamese snacks and swank bar, all in white. My date was Chelsea Handler's new book, "Are you there, Vodka? It's me, Chelsea." At Silk, I ordered salad rolls and Pho soup, traditionally with the brisket. Someone said this was the best Vietnamese place in town but I have to say I'll be looking for others. I give it a B. The decor was cool and my Ginger Martini ($5) was good, the salad rolls ($4) had shrimp and pork, but I coulda done without the Wilbur. I believe Pho ($5) should be served with the rare brisket on the side, but no one's really down with augmenting what is all ready on the cheap, so it was a wee tough for my tastes. But for a total tab of $19 (OK, I had 2 drinks) I'm not gonna whine like Mrs. Roper wanting more sex from Stanley. I was satiated.
Ms. Handler's fun raunchy romp into a party girl's life at 30, however, was right up my alley. Vodka: her Life Partner, having sex with a red head and her love for midgets are the stand-out topics and I finished the book in a day. Easy read, v. v. funny and makes me feel better about my own wayward days gone by (as of yesterday).
The best line was about Big Red and upon getting ready to get busy, reached down to a massive bush of bright orange pubic hair on this dude that she likened to, "Having Carrot Top in a leg lock."

OK! OK! Here's the update

Jeez, I wish everyone would stop nagging me about what I've been up to these days. Hellooo? I'm busy! I'm watching "Can't Buy Me Love" crica '87 on cable for the 18th time (no joke), making these labor-intensive frozen chocolate chip cookies from TJ's and working on my screenplay. I'm reading 3 books, not including my textbooks, and running a household: my spacious apartment does not clean itself, People! I pay my two bills each month (Comcast & Verizon) and stock my fridge with sundries such as sparkling water, yoghurt and wine (oh, she likes her wine). Friends visit and we have moments like this, "Hey, I wonder what Ruth Buzzi's up to these days?" "Let's Google her." And then we'll watch her on The Muppets for, like, 3 hours.
Riveting facsinating stuff that no one really cares about. And therein lies the beauty of Blogging: reporting on the banal.

This Guy is MY HERO and always has been...

my wierd nocturnal habit...

I have narrowed the problem down to hot months and a little wine before bed: I sleepwalk. There are 3 known instances of alarm: the first happened as a child when I awoke lying in front of a fuzzy television ("They're heeeerrree.") The second occurred a couple years ago when I actually left my apartment, wandered down the hall until my ex woke up and found me, asked me what I was doing and I said, "It smells like toast." The third happened last night. I KNOW I went to sleep in my bedroom, but I woke in my living room sleeping on top of a blanket on top of notebooks and my computer.
Me so krazy.

Hooters Girl...

I saw this ad for applying to be a Hooters girl and out of sheer curiosity went to their website because I wanted to see what they listed as their requirements for being, what they call, "A Hooters Girl." It said this:

The Hooters Girl uniform consists of: White Hooters tank top, orange shorts, suntan hose, white socks, solid white shoes, brown Hooters pouch, name-tag and of course...a smile! The Hooters Girl uniform can not be changed or altered in any way. As well, the Hooters Girl uniform can not be sold to the public for any reason.

There is no set requirement in order to be a nearly World Famous Hooters Girl! We look for the All-American Cheerleader / Surfer-Girl-Next-Door image to fill our restaurants. In other words...Very bubbly, outgoing personalities!

Yea, right!!! What about the proverbial rack? The Oompa-Loompa tan? The dark red lip liner filled in with frosty pink that essentially makes your mouth look like a giant ass-hole?!? The uniform. Really? Suntan hose? Who finds that outfit attractive? Like, SERIOUSLY, what guy is into that look? I feel like Invasion of the Body Snatchers stole whomever frequents that place's soul! It's like Clamato juice. I just don't get it. And what's in "the brown pouch?" They're dignity? I was thinking what a perfect lawsuit I could file after I apply and surely get denied. It's kind of a McDonald's-Hot-Coffee lawsuit but what if I became, like, a pioneer for womankind? For Pale Women Everywhere.