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I'm The One That I Want by Margaret Cho. I was so disappointed that I couldn't make the book fair at UCLA last weekend with my friend Tracey, so she thought to buy the book for me. I missed the one-woman show when I lived in New York, but Tracey and I went to see the film last fall in Santa Monica. If you want to know how much my friends rock, Tracey even had it autographed:
Erica
Good luck in New York!
-Margaret Cho
. . .
I'm also still reading Simple Indulgence: Easy, Everyday Things to Do for Me by Janet Eastman. I'm such a dork, I keep reading the quotes and ideas, but not doing the journalling portion.
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"Someday we'll find it
the rainbow connection
the lovers, the dreamers and me
alllll of us under it's spell."
-Kermit THE Frog
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Stuck in my head:
"Boogie-oogie-oogie get down."
Thank you, Disco Stu! (My favorite Simpsons sight gag-cum-character.)
I heard Britney Spears' "Bottom of My Broken Heart" while making a selection from the feminine hygeine aisle at Wal Mart and exclaimed, "Fucking Britney Spears...Gah!"
That's one of the videos I had to watch about a million times to select snippets for the web site and the enhanced CD single. Ever hearing it again is too much, too soon.
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The Simpsons, The Sopranos & Armistead Maupin's Further Tales of the City. I didn't even realize there were making another one, I just happened to see it listed. I'm going to have to finish the book series now, as I think I've only read through the fourth book and this mini-series is based on the third book.
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While you're visiting the Gallery of Regrettable Food, don't miss Meat!. This one in particular made me laugh until I couldn't breathe. "Sometimes meat likes to dress up and feel pretty."
Swanson Parade of Lost Identity -- women who, in probably their only 15 minutes of fame, were for the most part known only as Mrs. HisLastName.
. . .
Co-Author of The Rules to divorce! So you can't manipulate a man into marrying and staying married to you? Perhaps you have to come into it as two individuals and show who you really are from the beginning? I guess this means that no amount of growing your hair long, pretending not to be smart or funny, and "training" a man will make for a happy marriage.
. . .
Ever wonder where that dollar bill's been? Mine was in Chicago two months ago.
. . .
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Another Elvis dream (I'm doing the Memphis section of my color scrapbook now, but I haven't got to Graceland yet), this one cannibalistic.
What started out as an autopsy to discover THE TRUTH, turned into Elvis Stew. It was rich and beefy. Ewwwwwwwww!
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Why is it that the same personality quirks are taken as crazy and stalky by some, while loveably wacky by others? Is there some litmus test for this, so I stop wasting my time?
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now I'm blogging what I'm eating, whoa.
Still literate as of 9/29/2000 12:20:01 AM
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just what I needed...another dorkblog.
Jeepers, creepers, I last used my peepers on 9/29/2000 12:24:59 AM
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My trip photographs, they're better than expected. Now to get them all organized, it's only been a year!
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Thursday, December 14, 2000
3:55 PM
 overwhelmed with procrastinating over my finals.
. . .
Thanks to everyone who wrote nice things after Sunday, I had entries in my head that never made it here, so the pain, the Pain, isn't the reason I haven't posted, I thought I did.
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Sunday, December 10, 2000
1:45 AM
broken and afraid the pieces will never fit back into one, functional piece again. This pisses me off. I've worked so hard, prayed so much, cried until there's nothing left and still I end up back at this point and wonder if it is the one, unflinching truth after all.
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3:45 AM
living in a house that holds so many bad memories for me and then I wonder why I feel as if I'm having the final crack up, finally.Here is where you beat me to the ground and, impatient for me to get up, finished me off with a few kicks.
There is where you called me a "whore" and there a "bitch" and a "fat heffer."
This is where you beat me until I wet my pants and you told me I should use one of the baby's diapers. That was always one of your favorite things. Pain alone was never enough, better that there be humiliation, that I not even be able to control something most people take for granted. Sometimes my only regret at your death was that I didn't get to bring it about. An awful thing to say, but then, you were always the expert on awful things to be said.
. . .
So this paranoid man said I had "lots of issues." A pessemist is he, as I'm rather amazed I don't have more. That I don't live with a man who beats and rapes me with 8 kids I didn't want and don't love is a victory. Also, I am not on drugs or in jail or turning tricks.
I am not perfect by any means -- I am fat (the worst sin a woman can commit in this society) and I have bad credit (another top sin in the United States of Consumerica). I do not keep a collection of testicles or peni in jars and this I find amazing, all things considered.
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