I'm tired of searching for boys on MySpace. It treated me so well when I first moved to the city (three Mikes!), but since that time, I have faced an impressive list of rejections. It's not as though I spend all day browsing for dates, but I've sent out a fair few messages over the past few weeks and gotten nary a date out of the deal (indeed, only one response to show for it). I want a date! I've realized, however, that though I am not dating material, I may well be a good wife. I am doting and devoted. I scrub bathrooms and kitchen counters without complaint (with pride, even). I can cook pretty damn well. I manage finances effectively, ensuring that there is enough money for bills to be paid and fun to be had in equal measure. I'm not the hottest thing you've ever, ever seen, but I'm pretty fuckable. I'm entertaining at a party. I pull in a decent income. I can put together a smart outfit and pack a delicious, healthy lunch. Plus, I cultivated all these skills with Scott: I have three years of wife training. Just two little problems. One, no one wants to date a wife. Two, I don't want to be a wife. Shit.
Sun, Nov. 19th, 2006 11:15 am
We're talking Tina-style revivals, here.
OK, some ladies have been lying low recently, and they need to have some ass-kicking comebacks. Let's count. First on the list: Whitney Houston. Bobby's gone, crack is whack, and bitch found her make-up again. What now? Record an album that rivals the soundtrack to "The Bodyguard" but adds booty-shaking beats. We know you can do it, Whitney. We will always love you. Next in line: Whoopi Goldberg. Whoopi is the only black woman to be nominated for more than one Academy Award (not to mention the only black woman ever to host the ceremony). She has an Oscar, a Tony, an Emmy, and a Grammy; few manage to earn this quartet in their lifetime. She was Celie, for Christ's sake. Whoopi's been stuck in some blatantly terrible jobs recently (voices in bad animated movies, a failed sitcom, a cancelled line of Slim-Fast commercials), but the lady is a powerhouse. We can do better by Whoopi. Where's Oscar role number three? Our third diva comeback: Britney. Husband gone, baby weight sucked out, hair bleached... child, it's time to do what you do best: stop talking and start churning out dance hits that make gay men gyrate like animals. I don't want to see you in Us Weekly using questionable judgment with your offspring's seating arrangements. I don't want to see you in Michael Moore's documentaries (and frankly, he shouldn't be putting you in them anyway). I don't want to see you with brown hair. I want to see you barely dressed on a stage, lip syncing to a processed version of what might not even be your voice to begin with. Go ahead, Britney. Last but not least: Angela Bassett. Honestly, she doesn't fit on this list because she doesn't need a comeback. Still, I have to mention her. I'm just putting out there once more that the Wonder Woman movie is in development, and if we act fast, it's not too late to cast Ms. Bassett in the lead role. I can't think of an actress better suited for this task: she's hot like fire, but looks like she could legitimately take you in a fight. Is Sandra Bullock going to kick anyone's ass? I should think not. But if Angela Bassett shimmied into some star-spangled hot pants and broke a man's back with her knee, I'd way buy that. Not that Wonder Woman ever did such a thing, but if it happened, I'd accept it. Plus, Angela can act. As in get-her-ass-nominated-for-an-Oscar act. 'Nuff said.
Sat, Nov. 18th, 2006 02:04 pm
Really, though?
According to MySpace's count, my blog has received 86 views this week. Even running under the assumption that ten people view my blog daily (which is itself a considerable stretch), that leaves a full 16 hits unaccounted for. And the idea that multiple strangers would even accidentally stumble upon my journal is, to be honest, baffling. While I fancy myself somewhat amusing, I have no delusions about the scope of this project: this is light reading for my friends who are bored at work. I worry about the lonely, nameless MySpace users who have spent their days randomly reading these entries. I find it mildly sad that I maintain a MySpace blog, but find it almost sadder that someone with no connection to me would choose to read it.
Fri, Nov. 17th, 2006 06:32 pm
Eyes front, please.
Lessons learned during the past few days:
Lesson one: do not get your hair cut by someone who does not speak English well. My trip to Hair Farfalla has left me with a perfectly lovely haircut that only vaguely conforms to (and sometimes directly contradicts) the specifications laid out beforehand.
Lesson two: Do not mention Harry Potter to me or allow me to mention Harry Potter to you. Even the vaguest hint of encouragement will be excuse enough for me to launch into a monologue in which you have little to no interest.
Lesson three: The Playstation 2 is amazing. "Guitar Hero" gives you a little plastic guitar for a controller and lets you strum your way to awesomeness. Fuck yeah!
Lesson four: Sure, I'll accompany you on your shopping trip. But only to buy shit for myself.
Class dismissed.
Thu, Nov. 16th, 2006 08:22 pm
Yes, I'm still listening to the same album.
I've come to a new conclusion. I don't want to date Barrett Foa: I want to be him. I mean, the audition for "Avenue Q" may have been overambitious, but the Rod/Princeton role was more or less written for my vocal range. And now, having seen "The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee" last week and listened to the cast recording a few hundred times, it has dawned on me that I am god damned destined to play Leaf Coneybear. If you can say that I wasn't born to embody an awkwardly good-natured 11-year-old boy who sews his own clothes and sings an entire verse about how much he likes his hair, then you've obviously never met me. So, Vida is going to rock some headshots for me and I'm going to get my ass back out in the world of auditions. Plus, if things are looking good financially in the new year, then I'm signing up for a class of some sort. Singing or acting? I could use work on both. For reals. I'm less in love with my Google web page today than I was two days ago. I think the pressure of having a third blog (and one that requires so much extra work!) might be too much. I avoided posting yesterday because I didn't want to have to deal with the lengthy update process. I might have to give up the idea that I'm going to bother with that one. *sigh*
Tue, Nov. 14th, 2006 06:16 pm
Crosspostaholic.
As it turns out, Google now offers free web page hosting. Which means I have one more god damned place to post my blog now. Apparently I won't rest until my daily ramblings cover every flat surface in the nation.
Mon, Nov. 13th, 2006 10:39 am
If I have to take a cold shower today, I'm going to be pissed.
Usually, my shower has two settings: ice cold and scalding hot. Long have I wished this would change. The "careful what you wish for" adage was proved true once again when this morning, I awoke to new choices: ice cold and mildly cold. I decided to postpone my shower until later this afternoon in the hopes that the water will magically heat itself.
