She Wouldn’t Have A Willy Or A Sam

I wrote this last year for FanLIb, just reread it and it’s pretty funny, if I do say so myself. It’s an online dating profile for Henry the 8th, based on the Shotime series The Tudors.

RoyalMatch.com

RoyalScepterofLoveVIII

Headline: She wouldn’t have a Willy or a Sam…

Age, height, and weight: determined by film, television, or portrait.

Career: Monarch of England, Ruler of Scotland, Wales, and Ireland. Full time.

Children: Not at home.

Relationship Status: Nearly Divorced

Income: Will tell you later.

Religion: Catholic… for the moment.

Drink: Yes, often, mead and wine

Smoke: Occasionally

Drugs: just the usual tinctures and a leaching here or there.

Last Good Book I Read: Lutheran Tracts by Martin Luther, The Game by Neil Strauss

My Hospital Adventure

Thanks for all the well wishes.  I”m fine… look, I”m even typing.

The story:  I cut my finger while washing dishes, probably should have gone to the hospital right away, but was busy being a big brave girl.  So, around five pm Melanie convinced me to unwrap it and have a look - ick, meaty.  Parker drove me to Cedars, where he dropped me off and went for cocktails. They said for just a couple stitches it should be just an hour.  Poor Jonathan came to “pick me up,” and wound up waiting with me for hours and hours.  So I got there at 8pm, they didn’t take me to a bed until 11 something.  Long story short - too late - by the time they got to me it was too late to suture.  So offered me an unneeded xray, cleaned me off, wrapped me back up, and sent me on my way.  Oh, Jonathan saw a celebrity in the waiting room, while I was being sewn up, but he couldn’t remember her name.

I’m super tired, but fine… let’s just wait and see what Cedars charges to do nothing.

Ugh

I have to go to the hospital.  Waiting for Parker to pick me up.  I hate hospitals, even more when I’m the one who has to go.

I cut my finger this morning while doing dishes.  There was a lot of blood.  A lot.  I’m not great with blood.  It’s still bleeding and very fleshy.  I’m getting sick writing this.

Why Art Matters

This is so beautiful and hopeful it brought me to tears.

So You Think You Can Dance?

Well you got nothing on Miss Charisse. Cyd Charisse passed away yesterday. Another legend gone. What legs she had.

Pretty Funny

My Dinner With Dow (Okay, My Phoner With Dow)

I’ve done another interview for FanLib, this time with Mike Dow, co-creator of Ten Things I Hate About Commandments.

The interview’s in four parts: One, Two, Three, and Four. It’s pretty interesting if I do say so myself. Dow’s a funny guy and if you wanna make a viral video he makes the steps seem do-able.

The Shadow Year by Jeffrey Ford

I was lucky enough to get an early reviewers’ copy of The Shadow Year by Jeffrey Ford, and then it sat on the pile. Who knows, too many library books due back perhaps. So, I finally got around to it and now I’m caught between disbelief that I didn’t devour it right away and joy that I waited and got to read it now. What a great novel.

It’s a mystery, a memory, a ghost story, a sleepy/suspenseful summer. Set in the 50’s the book follows three siblings as they unravel a neighborhood mystery, but still live their summer, kid lives; they fear and chase, yet they bike and age too. I love books with teen protagonists, there’s usually a sense of optimism, even amidst the darkest moments, and The Shadow Year didn’t fail to deliver.

Jeffrey Ford’s prose is beautiful and poetic. Overall an enjoyable and subtle book.

If Seinfeld Lived in LA

Which, I guess, is what Curb Your Enthusiasm is…  but anyway.  I had a moment today in the car, where I thought, “if Seinfeld were in LA, George or Elaine would rant about this.”

I was driving west on Sunset, in Beverly Hills, and only one lane was open, because they were tree trimming.  About a quarter mile in the distance I could see a car in the middle divider waiting to merge with traffic.  By the time I reached the car at least twenty others had passed, not letting her in.  I, of course, slowed and let her go.  Here’s the Seinfeld-ian rant - she didn’t give me the thank you hand!  How hard is it to raise your right hand??  Gah!  I always thank people when they let me in!  In fact a couple hours later a guy let me merge right on LaCienega, so I could turn right onto Fountain, and I gave him a big right-hand thank you sign.  I feel like a Costanza.

The Song Of The Summer

I’m gonna go ahead and call it now, “I’m Not Gonna’ Teach Your Boyfriend How To Dance,” by Black Kids.  Great, fun, great.  Go listen to it right now.  Dance around.  More.  Okay, how great was that?

Suc-sex and the City

Went to see Sex and the City yesterday evening - yes I went with a group of girls, no we didn’t wear Manolos. To be honest, the few pair I own are so painful after an hour or two, I never wear them, but they’re beautiful. Sigh. The theatre was practically women only; there was a lot of estrogen in the room. Too many previews and all sappy, girly movies. Just because I’m seeing Sex and the City doesn’t mean I want to see Sisterhood of Pants 2, Walk on the Beach 2, or any other Hallmark romantic treacle. But wow, if they can tap into a small percentage of the women who are turning out for this.. They totally underestimated how well this would do.

Anyway, the movie. Okay, it’s a movie of a TV show, so yeah, it was flawed. The good news, it was great to see our friends. They look great, they’re well dressed, I got teary when I saw how happy Charlotte is. I know they’re not real, but come on, we saw them every Sunday for years, don’t you feel like they’re friends who moved away?

The bad news. The movie goes up and down, the energy turns on and off. They all looked beautiful - I hope I look half as good as Kim Cattrall at her age - but Pat Field went a little crazy with the wardrobe. She’s always out there, but some of the stuff they put on Samantha was super ugly. The biggest problem - no pun intended - was Carrie’s relationship, once again. They just send all the wrong, Cinderella, Pretty Woman messages - stop reading if you hate spoilers - where it doesn’t matter how much the guy hurts or humiliates the heroine, she still loves him, and when they get back together at the end (what did you expect?) she apologizes to him. Bleh. Oh yeah, and the editing was very wierd.

But I liked it. Really. Manhattan looked terrific, it made me want to go home. There were some funny bits, quippy lines, Mexicoma anyone?, and over all I enjoyed it. Hey, I didn’t want my money back, and that’s really all I ask for any more.

Money Well Spent

Went to the Kooks show last night at The Wiltern; they freakin’ rock! Man what a difference a couple years make. I had no idea they’d become so popular with the little girls. There were so many screaming tweens, crazy. I guess they’re getting mainstream radio play, good for them. Two years ago I saw them at Safari Sam’s which holds maybe two-fifty; The Wiltern holds two thousand.

The lead singer, Luke Pritchard, is a rock star in the best possible way; part Mick, part Keith, but those vocals are all his. He struts and stamps, and his voice is insanely beautiful - he did some solo numbers that were amazing - but when he speaks the accent’s so thick you only catch every fifth word. But the little girls don’t care, they were eating him up with a spoon.

Here’s some crap pix I took with me phone:

An aside, it took your intrepid and, normally, clever girl reporter eight years of living in LA to figure out that the Wiltern, on the corners of Wilshire and Western, is a combination of the words Wilshire and Western. Way to go intrepid and not so clever girl reporter!