Witch
Originally uploaded by ckc_molly.
Be Responsible! You don't want to get pulled over for FWI!
Friday, October 29, 2004
Celebrity Obsession and a Halloween Lesson
So, Ashlee Simpson, in her evidently unending quest to prove in as many venues as possible that she actually can sing live, appeared last night on Leno and sang "Shadow." I thought it was a good performance. I thought the bare feet and black nail polish were a little much given the fact that she is basically Britney Spears sans midrif, but she sounded fine. She actually seemed convincingly into the music, closing her eyes and milling around like a "rock star." But at the end of the song, she proved she is nothing more than a starry-eyed school-girl by shouting "Jimmy Fallon - I love you!" Very cool, Ashlee. Way to be punk.
Maybe I spend too much time evaluating the lives and talents of celebrities?... Does that ever happen to you, Ellen? By the way, you looked really great in your Halloween costume this morning. (One of the TV's at work was tuned in to your show - I was so happy just to catch a glimpse of it!) I'm dressed festively today, too. I'm wearing a black shirt that says "Scaredy Cat" and orange pants with little freaked-out black cats all over them. They are technically pajama bottoms, but they've been a big hit so far. All day I've heard strains of "Look at those pajama bottoms! You're wearing pajama bottoms! Are those pajama bottoms?" Of course I'd rather hear that than what I heard on my block this morning: "Mmm - nice and large - just like I like it." Thank you, sir. Happy Halloween to you as well.
The lesson here: Don't wear orange pajama bottoms if you can't handle the results. And don't move to Harlem if you don't want comments on your ass.
We are going to the parade on Sunday with a bunch of friends and I just can't wait! I got a digital camera last night as an early birthday present from my hubby. I will take lots and lots of pictures and post them here for your viewing pleasure. I'm sure that guy on my block is not the only one who wants a look at my Smashing Pumpkins...
And bring it back around with the musical reference! Way to go Carolyn. You are BRILLIANT!
Happy Halloween, y'all! Dress up and have fun! You're only young once - but you can put on a costume and act like an idiot for the rest of your life!
Maybe I spend too much time evaluating the lives and talents of celebrities?... Does that ever happen to you, Ellen? By the way, you looked really great in your Halloween costume this morning. (One of the TV's at work was tuned in to your show - I was so happy just to catch a glimpse of it!) I'm dressed festively today, too. I'm wearing a black shirt that says "Scaredy Cat" and orange pants with little freaked-out black cats all over them. They are technically pajama bottoms, but they've been a big hit so far. All day I've heard strains of "Look at those pajama bottoms! You're wearing pajama bottoms! Are those pajama bottoms?" Of course I'd rather hear that than what I heard on my block this morning: "Mmm - nice and large - just like I like it." Thank you, sir. Happy Halloween to you as well.
The lesson here: Don't wear orange pajama bottoms if you can't handle the results. And don't move to Harlem if you don't want comments on your ass.
We are going to the parade on Sunday with a bunch of friends and I just can't wait! I got a digital camera last night as an early birthday present from my hubby. I will take lots and lots of pictures and post them here for your viewing pleasure. I'm sure that guy on my block is not the only one who wants a look at my Smashing Pumpkins...
And bring it back around with the musical reference! Way to go Carolyn. You are BRILLIANT!
Happy Halloween, y'all! Dress up and have fun! You're only young once - but you can put on a costume and act like an idiot for the rest of your life!
Wednesday, October 27, 2004
100 Visitors!
100 visitors since October 7, 2004. Wow. That means on average 5 people read my blog each day. 5 people! That means there are people out there who read this besides my mom and Ellen DeGeneres! This is amazing. I feel so loved...
So, I shot my commercial for The Guide yesterday. It was really fun. The people in the office were really nice, the crew was great and my co-star was HOT! (Of course you'd be hot too if you had to wear a 20 lb. phone book suit all day.)
Being on the set is just as fabulous as you imagine. Someone picks your clothes out for you, someone else does your hair and makeup... it's great! I didn't so much have a "dressing room" as I did an "empty office," but I still felt very special. I got a little scared when the makeup girl started curling my eyelashes with a tiny hot lash iron, so I told her about the time in 6th grade that I dropped the curling iron onto my eyeball. I think she was impressed. We had a great time talking - we agreed that blush is the most important and fabulous makeup item (Thank You, Mom) and that dime-store lip gloss is always the best. We also determined that you should never wear blue-green mascara, even if it is 1984 and you put a matching streak in your bangs.
When I got downstairs, I was directed to the catering table. (That is so Hollywood!) There was coffee and OJ and breakfast-y snacks that I did not partake in because I am a professional and I didn't want to get jelly donut on my shirt. After we "wrapped" (that's TV-star talk for "finished") there was free lunch - yummy salad and pasta and chicken and tiramisu. I wished the day would never end...
If you're reading this Ellen (and I know you are) maybe you could let me come on your show and be a guest host or something? I'd be really great with the stars now that I've lived the life. We could dish about whose catering is better - Dunkin Donuts or Starbucks - and talk about how awkward it is when "regular" people walk onto the set looking for you. (Like that cop who told me I was gonna get a ticket if I didn't move my car... I mean why didn't he just ask for my autograph? He must've been embarrassed.) Anyway - let me know. I could use some more of that tiramisu...
So, I shot my commercial for The Guide yesterday. It was really fun. The people in the office were really nice, the crew was great and my co-star was HOT! (Of course you'd be hot too if you had to wear a 20 lb. phone book suit all day.)
Being on the set is just as fabulous as you imagine. Someone picks your clothes out for you, someone else does your hair and makeup... it's great! I didn't so much have a "dressing room" as I did an "empty office," but I still felt very special. I got a little scared when the makeup girl started curling my eyelashes with a tiny hot lash iron, so I told her about the time in 6th grade that I dropped the curling iron onto my eyeball. I think she was impressed. We had a great time talking - we agreed that blush is the most important and fabulous makeup item (Thank You, Mom) and that dime-store lip gloss is always the best. We also determined that you should never wear blue-green mascara, even if it is 1984 and you put a matching streak in your bangs.
When I got downstairs, I was directed to the catering table. (That is so Hollywood!) There was coffee and OJ and breakfast-y snacks that I did not partake in because I am a professional and I didn't want to get jelly donut on my shirt. After we "wrapped" (that's TV-star talk for "finished") there was free lunch - yummy salad and pasta and chicken and tiramisu. I wished the day would never end...
If you're reading this Ellen (and I know you are) maybe you could let me come on your show and be a guest host or something? I'd be really great with the stars now that I've lived the life. We could dish about whose catering is better - Dunkin Donuts or Starbucks - and talk about how awkward it is when "regular" people walk onto the set looking for you. (Like that cop who told me I was gonna get a ticket if I didn't move my car... I mean why didn't he just ask for my autograph? He must've been embarrassed.) Anyway - let me know. I could use some more of that tiramisu...
Monday, October 25, 2004
Tonight...
According to her father, Joe Simpson, Ashlee will sing live tonight at the Radio Music Awards... we shall see. Bring your ear plugs!
I will be out exchanging Halloween costumes and hopefully getting my eyebrows waxed for my big commercial shoot tomorrow!
Please note that I did just openly admit that I wax my eyebrows. I want everyone to know that I do occasionally wax my eyebrows, so no one accuses me of having fake eyebrows. I am not a fake. I just use wax when I need a little extra support in the beauty department. If you take a look at my headshot to the right, you will see that I have waxed my eyebrows in the past. It is common practice among female performers to wax their eyebrows in order to look their best.
I hope you don't think this makes me a talentless sell-out. Please don't leave any comments on this post like "Real stars don't need wax!" or "Wax is for pussies!" cuz that is just rude and disrespectful of my German-by-birth/Italian-by-Adoption biology/culture. I will hold my head up high no matter what comes of this waxing ordeal, and you'll see after you watch my commercial (those of you who live in Westchester County - is that anyone who reads this by the way?...) that I have real talent, no matter what my perfectly groomed eyebrows say to the contrary.
I will be out exchanging Halloween costumes and hopefully getting my eyebrows waxed for my big commercial shoot tomorrow!
Please note that I did just openly admit that I wax my eyebrows. I want everyone to know that I do occasionally wax my eyebrows, so no one accuses me of having fake eyebrows. I am not a fake. I just use wax when I need a little extra support in the beauty department. If you take a look at my headshot to the right, you will see that I have waxed my eyebrows in the past. It is common practice among female performers to wax their eyebrows in order to look their best.
I hope you don't think this makes me a talentless sell-out. Please don't leave any comments on this post like "Real stars don't need wax!" or "Wax is for pussies!" cuz that is just rude and disrespectful of my German-by-birth/Italian-by-Adoption biology/culture. I will hold my head up high no matter what comes of this waxing ordeal, and you'll see after you watch my commercial (those of you who live in Westchester County - is that anyone who reads this by the way?...) that I have real talent, no matter what my perfectly groomed eyebrows say to the contrary.
Sunday, October 24, 2004
Oops! They did it again!
They let another stupid pop tart lip-synch on SNL. Last night, when Ashlee Simpson went up to sing her second and final song of the evening, there was dissonance on the stage. Her band was playing live whatever her second song was supposed to be, but the speakers were feeding in the "Pieces of Me" vocal track, which she had previously "sung." Ashlee didn't realize what was going on at first and started her set with a sexy little body roll, which quickly degenerated into a retarded jig of despair as soon as she heard the lyrics to her previous song. She instantly shoved the microphone into her face and tried to pretend it was okay, but it was too late. All of America knew she was lip-synching. They immediately cut to commercial, and that was the end of Ashlee's set.
During the final credits, Jude Law thanked her and said "Live TV!," (as if to say "Oops! We f*cked up!") to which Ashlee replied, "I know, I am so sorry! My band started playing the WRONG SONG and I didn't know what to do!" To be fair, I wouldn't know what to do either if that meant the guy in the booth hit play on the wrong tape. I mean, there you are, all ready to fake your way through a song you didn't write when another song you didn't write comes on, and you don't recognize it at first because you didn't write it and you're not all that musical to begin with. That's a tough situation. I guess maybe what I would do is START SINGING LIVE INTO THE MICROPHONE TO COVER UP THE FACT THAT SOMEONE WAS PLAYING MY CD?... But of course you can't do that if you don't know how to sing.
Note to SNL: You cannot be a show that makes fun of celebrities and then allow a celebrity to come on and do what you should be making fun of them for. This is the kind of act you should be lambasting next week on your show. I want to see Maya Rudolph in a long black wig trying to sing 5 different songs being fed thru the speaker at the same time while doing a ridiculous mix of jigging and trying to be sexy. But I won't. Because then SNL would have to admit that they allow people to come on their show and lip-synch. And that's not exactly "live," is it?
Not that I don't feel bad for Ashlee. After all, she is just a puppet in all of this. It's her father and her record company and the entertainment industry at large that should be blamed for building the careers of talentless people who don't even have the skills to do a 2-song live performance. Do you know how many musical theatre kids are out there that want to kick her ass? "I played Evita when I was 12 years old and I sang the entire show with a 102 degree fever and a broken left ankle but you can bet your sweet ass I was still dazzling - I was Rainbow High!"
I could go on and on about this...how it's a slap in the face to those of us who have trained for years to perform, how it's an affront to those of us who think you shouldn't be able to build a career on cute clothes and a good marketing scheme. But, unfortunately, most of the products that succeed in America are hollow, shabby and devoid of any soul. Ashlee Simpson is to music as Wonder Bread is to baked goods - soft, fluffy, unsatisfying, and in this age of anti-carb sentiment, soon to be obsolete. Or at least I hope.
I'm with Elton John on this one. If you don't sing live, you suck. I'm gonna go listen to "Someone Saved My Life Tonight," drink some more coffee and grumble things like, "That bloody lip-synching, red string bracelet wearing, children's book authoring, pseudo-British, faux-Jew MadEsther better send me a f*cking Christmas Card this year! Wanker." And while I dance around my living room, I'm going to revel in the fact that even though I'm a decade older and 5 pant sizes larger than these virgin-whores who sell millions of records, I can actually sing an entire song all by myself.
During the final credits, Jude Law thanked her and said "Live TV!," (as if to say "Oops! We f*cked up!") to which Ashlee replied, "I know, I am so sorry! My band started playing the WRONG SONG and I didn't know what to do!" To be fair, I wouldn't know what to do either if that meant the guy in the booth hit play on the wrong tape. I mean, there you are, all ready to fake your way through a song you didn't write when another song you didn't write comes on, and you don't recognize it at first because you didn't write it and you're not all that musical to begin with. That's a tough situation. I guess maybe what I would do is START SINGING LIVE INTO THE MICROPHONE TO COVER UP THE FACT THAT SOMEONE WAS PLAYING MY CD?... But of course you can't do that if you don't know how to sing.
Note to SNL: You cannot be a show that makes fun of celebrities and then allow a celebrity to come on and do what you should be making fun of them for. This is the kind of act you should be lambasting next week on your show. I want to see Maya Rudolph in a long black wig trying to sing 5 different songs being fed thru the speaker at the same time while doing a ridiculous mix of jigging and trying to be sexy. But I won't. Because then SNL would have to admit that they allow people to come on their show and lip-synch. And that's not exactly "live," is it?
Not that I don't feel bad for Ashlee. After all, she is just a puppet in all of this. It's her father and her record company and the entertainment industry at large that should be blamed for building the careers of talentless people who don't even have the skills to do a 2-song live performance. Do you know how many musical theatre kids are out there that want to kick her ass? "I played Evita when I was 12 years old and I sang the entire show with a 102 degree fever and a broken left ankle but you can bet your sweet ass I was still dazzling - I was Rainbow High!"
I could go on and on about this...how it's a slap in the face to those of us who have trained for years to perform, how it's an affront to those of us who think you shouldn't be able to build a career on cute clothes and a good marketing scheme. But, unfortunately, most of the products that succeed in America are hollow, shabby and devoid of any soul. Ashlee Simpson is to music as Wonder Bread is to baked goods - soft, fluffy, unsatisfying, and in this age of anti-carb sentiment, soon to be obsolete. Or at least I hope.
I'm with Elton John on this one. If you don't sing live, you suck. I'm gonna go listen to "Someone Saved My Life Tonight," drink some more coffee and grumble things like, "That bloody lip-synching, red string bracelet wearing, children's book authoring, pseudo-British, faux-Jew MadEsther better send me a f*cking Christmas Card this year! Wanker." And while I dance around my living room, I'm going to revel in the fact that even though I'm a decade older and 5 pant sizes larger than these virgin-whores who sell millions of records, I can actually sing an entire song all by myself.
Friday, October 22, 2004
Too Good to be True
Just a word to the (un)wise... nothing is ever free. So when someone says, "Hey, do you want a free ____?" - don't believe them. Don't try to get your sister the Tiffany bracelet she wants by signing up for a myriad of services online that ask you for your credit card number. Credit card number = not free.
Remember that free slinky you got in college by signing up for Discover Card? That slinky you're still paying off 9 years later? Not free. Nothing is free. Not even "the best things in life." Cuz what are the best things in life, really? Pizza, chocolate, nachos... not free! Friends and family? You may think that they're free... but if you don't get them a present for their birthday - guess what? What used to be "I'll be there for you no matter what" turns into "My own daughter didn't even remember my birthday?! I'm not so sure we can hang out anymore..."
Nothing is free, except pain and suffering. Yup, pain and suffering is free.
- Free? You mean like, free, free?
Yes! Just fill out your credit card information below and you'll get a month supply of FREE* pain and suffering!
- But if it's free, like free, free, why do you need my credit card information?
Good question! Pain and Suffering are rather heavy, so all we ask is that you cover the cost of shipping. ($69.95 to most of the contiguous United States, subject to a 21.9% variable interest rate after taxes and a one-time $50 surcharge.)
AND - after you've enjoyed your first month of FREE* Pain and Suffering, we know you'll want to enjoy more of our FREE* products like Bad Advice and Annoying Proverbs. Don't worry - if you're not happy with your FREE* month trial of Pain and Suffering, just return the unused portion in its original packaging at your local post office (which is sure to cause you some more FREE* Pain and Suffering) and we'll refund the cost of shipping. (Minus the one-time $50 surcharge which will still be subject to all applicable taxes and a 21.9% variable interest rate, plus a processing fee.)
SO ACT NOW! Get your FREE* pain and suffering one month trial TODAY!
*Nothing is free, you idiot! Did you not read the first paragraph of this post?! Did the asterisk not tip you off to the un-free status of the offer? Nothing** with an asterisk next to it is to be trusted.
**Unless it's the name of an Equity actor in a non-Equity production. Then you should trust them and listen to their FREE* advice.
Remember, only the truth will set you free. But the FREE* is never the truth.
Remember that free slinky you got in college by signing up for Discover Card? That slinky you're still paying off 9 years later? Not free. Nothing is free. Not even "the best things in life." Cuz what are the best things in life, really? Pizza, chocolate, nachos... not free! Friends and family? You may think that they're free... but if you don't get them a present for their birthday - guess what? What used to be "I'll be there for you no matter what" turns into "My own daughter didn't even remember my birthday?! I'm not so sure we can hang out anymore..."
Nothing is free, except pain and suffering. Yup, pain and suffering is free.
- Free? You mean like, free, free?
Yes! Just fill out your credit card information below and you'll get a month supply of FREE* pain and suffering!
- But if it's free, like free, free, why do you need my credit card information?
Good question! Pain and Suffering are rather heavy, so all we ask is that you cover the cost of shipping. ($69.95 to most of the contiguous United States, subject to a 21.9% variable interest rate after taxes and a one-time $50 surcharge.)
AND - after you've enjoyed your first month of FREE* Pain and Suffering, we know you'll want to enjoy more of our FREE* products like Bad Advice and Annoying Proverbs. Don't worry - if you're not happy with your FREE* month trial of Pain and Suffering, just return the unused portion in its original packaging at your local post office (which is sure to cause you some more FREE* Pain and Suffering) and we'll refund the cost of shipping. (Minus the one-time $50 surcharge which will still be subject to all applicable taxes and a 21.9% variable interest rate, plus a processing fee.)
SO ACT NOW! Get your FREE* pain and suffering one month trial TODAY!
*Nothing is free, you idiot! Did you not read the first paragraph of this post?! Did the asterisk not tip you off to the un-free status of the offer? Nothing** with an asterisk next to it is to be trusted.
**Unless it's the name of an Equity actor in a non-Equity production. Then you should trust them and listen to their FREE* advice.
Remember, only the truth will set you free. But the FREE* is never the truth.
Thursday, October 21, 2004
You know you're bored when...
...you plan your funeral online. I did mine under a pseudonym, which I am sharing with you now. I guess taking a pseudonym was pointless, but that's what reporters do. They go in undercover to disseminate pointless information to the masses which glorifies them and makes the people feel loved.
What? I gotta get outta here. Too much Internet today.
I found the link to www.mydeath.net on www.newyorkish.com. The Internet is a vast canyon of insanity wrapped in a pretty pink.com bow, and I just can't get enough!
Check out www.politipunk.com.
Okay. I'm really leaving now.
What? I gotta get outta here. Too much Internet today.
I found the link to www.mydeath.net on www.newyorkish.com. The Internet is a vast canyon of insanity wrapped in a pretty pink.com bow, and I just can't get enough!
Check out www.politipunk.com.
Okay. I'm really leaving now.
The curse has been lifted!
The Yankess lost but who cares because I did not fall on my face last night! Yes! The evil spirit living in my pants was removed! Hooray for freedom!
The Yankess deserved to lose and the Red Sox deserved to win. Fair is fair. I felt for the Red Sox fans, with their signs that said "Believe" and "Why Not Us?" It's inspirational, really. It just goes to show, if you stick it out long enough - like 86 years - you just may win someday.
If I apply that to my career, I won't "make it" until I'm 100. I hope I live that long... I don't wanna be dead by the time I'm finally famous.
I just thought about the fact that a stranger in Starbucks complimented my shoes this morning. Is it the Evil Eye chasing me? Nothing has happened - yet. But if I fall over my own feet I am going to lock myself away for a good long while.
Why would the Evil Eye chase me? Is it my joke about Astoria? I loved Astoria - it was the hairless, skinless lamb carcasses with a face I didn't like. It's a good thing I like blue, because I sense some new jewelry coming on...
TO BE CONTINUED...
Oh my God - my blog is just like a sitcom! That is awesome.
The Yankess deserved to lose and the Red Sox deserved to win. Fair is fair. I felt for the Red Sox fans, with their signs that said "Believe" and "Why Not Us?" It's inspirational, really. It just goes to show, if you stick it out long enough - like 86 years - you just may win someday.
If I apply that to my career, I won't "make it" until I'm 100. I hope I live that long... I don't wanna be dead by the time I'm finally famous.
I just thought about the fact that a stranger in Starbucks complimented my shoes this morning. Is it the Evil Eye chasing me? Nothing has happened - yet. But if I fall over my own feet I am going to lock myself away for a good long while.
Why would the Evil Eye chase me? Is it my joke about Astoria? I loved Astoria - it was the hairless, skinless lamb carcasses with a face I didn't like. It's a good thing I like blue, because I sense some new jewelry coming on...
TO BE CONTINUED...
Oh my God - my blog is just like a sitcom! That is awesome.
Wednesday, October 20, 2004
Evil Eye...
My old landlady Maria had these all over her house. Here's why...
DID THEY LOOK BECAUSE YOU TRIPPED
OR
DID YOU TRIP BECAUSE THEY LOOKED?!
(That is not a coincidence, okay?! That is what it said on the Internet!)
The evil eye is the name for a sickness transmitted -- usually without intention -- by someone who is envious. It is also called the invidious eye and the envious eye. The evil eye belief is that a person can harm you, your children, your livestock, or your fruit trees, by looking at them with envy and praising them. The earliest written references to the evil eye occur on Sumerian clay tablets dating to the third millennium BC. Agate beads of exceptional quality, worn to protect the wearer from the influence of the evil eye were also discovered in the royal Sumerian graves at Ur. The most common article of decoration (as perceived by a European) in any Turkish house, car, on a person, children or property is the mysterious staring eye, set in blue glass called the Nazar Boncugu or Eye Bead. Amulets, which are worn to repel the evil eye are known as a repellent talisman or apotropaic charm. In Greece and Turkey, the most common form of apotropaic charm is the blue glass eye charm, which mirrors back the blue of the evil eye and thus confounds it. In regions where the Evil Eye belief occurs, the All-Seeing Eye is one of many forms of reflective eye-charm used as apotropaic talisman against this danger. The All-Seeing Eye - a single human eye surrounded by radiating beams of light - appears on the Great Seal of the United States, can be seen on at least one North American Good Luck Coin to guard the bearer from evil, and is among the many beautiful symbols of Freemasonry, where it represents the Great Architect of the Universe. From Turkey to Cyprus through the Central Asian Turkic republics to the Uygur Turks of China - and all those beyond and between - the belief in the effects of the eye are not only believed but genuinely feared.
A big thank you from my swollen knee to you, random lady. That's the last time I look pretty for no reason!
Have a nice trip! See you next fall...
Yeah. I tripped over my own pant leg today.
That would be funny - if it was the first time it happened. But it's actually the third time it's happened.
And yet I keep wearing these pants. Why?
The first time I tripped over them I had them hemmed. Then the second time I tripped over them I cut them even shorter. So, today, after I fell, I took them off to cut them again, but I saw how short the legs were and I thought, "Holy sh*t! Who wears these? A smurf?" So I decided to leave them alone. Cutting them shorter won't make a difference anyway since they're so wide - they get caught under my boot and then WHAMMO! Bigg Butt girl down.
Now, the only thing worse than pulling yourself up off the sidewalk in the middle of rush hour is having people rush up to you with faux-concern like, "Wow! Are you okay?!" Even though they mean well, it's a little disconcerting to have to say "Oh, don't worry. It happens all the time!"
I called my husband after I pulled myself together and told him that I fell. He asked me if I ripped my pants. I said, "No, of course not. These pants are indestructible. They're gonna be the death of me, but they're in perfect condition!" He said he thought my pants were cursed, which made me imagine some arthritic old Chinese lady bent over my pants in a sweatshop, incanting some weird spell on them. Do you think that's possible? Could my pants be cursed? That's why we should all make our own clothes from hemp and eat tofu and wear patchouli. So pissed-off Chinese ladies don't put a curse on our pants.
The bottom line is, I have to get rid of these pants. I'm a little upset about it, but I will learn to deal. I just got a compliment on them this morning, too. From a stranger. Hey - maybe that lady gave me the Evil Eye!? That's it! Ooooohhhh! Malaka!!!
In case you've never lived in Astoria and you don't know what that means, I will post a quick explanation. It all makes sense to me now.
Superstitions are so convenient. They allow me to blame someone else for my klutziness and the Red Sox to blame a dead guy for their 86 year losing streak. If the Red Sox win tonight, the Yankees will be embarrassed and the curse will be broken. If I trip in these pants again tonight, I will be embarrassed and my ass will be broken. And there will be plenty of cursing.
That would be funny - if it was the first time it happened. But it's actually the third time it's happened.
And yet I keep wearing these pants. Why?
The first time I tripped over them I had them hemmed. Then the second time I tripped over them I cut them even shorter. So, today, after I fell, I took them off to cut them again, but I saw how short the legs were and I thought, "Holy sh*t! Who wears these? A smurf?" So I decided to leave them alone. Cutting them shorter won't make a difference anyway since they're so wide - they get caught under my boot and then WHAMMO! Bigg Butt girl down.
Now, the only thing worse than pulling yourself up off the sidewalk in the middle of rush hour is having people rush up to you with faux-concern like, "Wow! Are you okay?!" Even though they mean well, it's a little disconcerting to have to say "Oh, don't worry. It happens all the time!"
I called my husband after I pulled myself together and told him that I fell. He asked me if I ripped my pants. I said, "No, of course not. These pants are indestructible. They're gonna be the death of me, but they're in perfect condition!" He said he thought my pants were cursed, which made me imagine some arthritic old Chinese lady bent over my pants in a sweatshop, incanting some weird spell on them. Do you think that's possible? Could my pants be cursed? That's why we should all make our own clothes from hemp and eat tofu and wear patchouli. So pissed-off Chinese ladies don't put a curse on our pants.
The bottom line is, I have to get rid of these pants. I'm a little upset about it, but I will learn to deal. I just got a compliment on them this morning, too. From a stranger. Hey - maybe that lady gave me the Evil Eye!? That's it! Ooooohhhh! Malaka!!!
In case you've never lived in Astoria and you don't know what that means, I will post a quick explanation. It all makes sense to me now.
Superstitions are so convenient. They allow me to blame someone else for my klutziness and the Red Sox to blame a dead guy for their 86 year losing streak. If the Red Sox win tonight, the Yankees will be embarrassed and the curse will be broken. If I trip in these pants again tonight, I will be embarrassed and my ass will be broken. And there will be plenty of cursing.
Tuesday, October 19, 2004
Interesting facts about my hometown...
So, I'm reading this book "Haven" by Ruth Gruber that tells the story of the only authorized rescue of the Jews during World War II by the US Government and how they were brought to my hometown of Oswego, NY. Interestingly enough, if you Google "Oswego, NY" you can go through 6 pages of results (and I'm sure more but I quit there) without a single mention of it. I Googled "oswego, ny's involvement in WWII" and got ZERO results, and then lastly I searched "jewish refugees in oswego, ny" and got the info you'll see if you click the title of this post, which includes one sentence referring to the fact. However, it does include some interesting (3rd use of that word - looks like somebody needs a thesaurus! Birthday idea! NOT.) demographical data which I will refer to below.
Now, in case you don't know anything about Oswego, NY, (and if you do we must be related) there are no Jews there. (Okay, maybe 3 or 4, but that's not even a percent of a percent of the population.) I mean, I remember finding out that Aaron Gordon was Jewish in high school because his mother wouldn't let him sing the lyrics to Silent Night in chorus. But my chorus teacher was so cool, he let us sing a Jewish song, too! "Shalom, haverim!" I love that song. Anyway... Oswegonians are basically a bunch of pleasantly plump Polish, Italian, German and Irish Catholics. (The Irish ones aren't so much "plump" as they are "drunk.") My point is: How come none of the Jewish refugees decided to stay in town? Is Oswego so boring that 1,000 people were like, "Um, thanks for the freedom and everything, but, this town blows... get some black people, would ya?" Oh, yeah. Oswego doesn't really have any black people either. Now how are you gonna have high quality entertainment without any Blacks or Jews? You're not. That's why I've always felt like a Black Jewish Lesbian trapped in a White Catholic Straight girl's body. (I was the president of the drama club, you know.)
Oswego is 95% white. And the per capita income is $16,500 a year. You know what that makes us Oswegonians? P.W.T. (Don't make me spell it, people.) Let's just say we all have something in common with Britney Spears.
Now, in case you don't know anything about Oswego, NY, (and if you do we must be related) there are no Jews there. (Okay, maybe 3 or 4, but that's not even a percent of a percent of the population.) I mean, I remember finding out that Aaron Gordon was Jewish in high school because his mother wouldn't let him sing the lyrics to Silent Night in chorus. But my chorus teacher was so cool, he let us sing a Jewish song, too! "Shalom, haverim!" I love that song. Anyway... Oswegonians are basically a bunch of pleasantly plump Polish, Italian, German and Irish Catholics. (The Irish ones aren't so much "plump" as they are "drunk.") My point is: How come none of the Jewish refugees decided to stay in town? Is Oswego so boring that 1,000 people were like, "Um, thanks for the freedom and everything, but, this town blows... get some black people, would ya?" Oh, yeah. Oswego doesn't really have any black people either. Now how are you gonna have high quality entertainment without any Blacks or Jews? You're not. That's why I've always felt like a Black Jewish Lesbian trapped in a White Catholic Straight girl's body. (I was the president of the drama club, you know.)
Oswego is 95% white. And the per capita income is $16,500 a year. You know what that makes us Oswegonians? P.W.T. (Don't make me spell it, people.) Let's just say we all have something in common with Britney Spears.
Except she's rich.
Of course, according to the US Government, you should be able to take care of 3 people on Oswego's per capita income, and as a single person you're not poor unless you make $8,900 a year. I think you'd be hard pressed to live on that kind of money, even in the smallest most forgotten town.
Not that Oswego has been forgotten, per se, but it is certainly not receiving the historical recognition it deserves.
My point is this: Oswego played a huge role in a huge war and no one really knows about it. We also played a huge role in the Underground Railroad. Thanks to Rosemary Nesbitt, people actually know a bit about that. (Rosemary is also part of the Safe Haven movement and I should say that there is an exhibit about it at Fort Ontario, but who actually goes to Fort Ontario?)
That's the point. It's kinda like people who were born and raised in New York never going to Ellis Island. Except everyone in the world knows about Ellis Island.
Now, my mother is going to tell me that people do know about the Safe Haven and that everyone knows that Eleanor Roosevelt came to Oswego and blah blah blah. And maybe that's true. But I feel like it should be more important, especially to the people who live there. Here's a quote from a refugee that speaks to that:
"I'm very grateful. I know my parents were very grateful to the people in town, because they were very good to us. It's too bad that this was the only camp of its kind in the United States of America. When you think of how many millions were killed, and how many could have been saved! So it's really a historic place, and I think it should get a lot of praise and a lot of attention. So that it doesn't happen to anyone else, to be forgotten like most of our people were forgotten."
-EVA KAUFMAN DYE
So, anyway - long story short, I had an idea to do a one woman show about the whole thing and to premiere it in Oswego. It's a bit of a pipe dream, so who knows... but I will certainly let you know, my faithful readers. (Don't worry, Ellen, there is totally a part for you in it.)
I know this post is a little all over the place, but so was Team America and it got three stars. (From me, but still...) You wouldn't be here if you didn't want me raw to the (Black Jewish Lesbian) core.
So now, on a final note, I bid you farewell.
I am so hungry from that office lunchtime smell!
Burger King here, cheese pizza there,
(now you know why my midrif is not bare.)
Wish me luck on my quest to get lunch,
and thank you for reading, oh, yes, thanks a bunch!
Monday, October 18, 2004
Freedom Costs $1.05
Ok - I saw Team America. Let me just say, it is by turns absolutely-f'ing-hilarious and eye-rollingly stupid. But, it is definitely worth seeing. My husband thought it was pro-Bush. I think it is pretty much anti-everybody, which (I think) is the film's real problem. You can't make a splash if you don't take a stand. (Okay, you can make a splash if you have a huge puking scene and naked puppets bumping uglies, but that's a different kind of splash, I'd say.)
My original plan was to do a huge and detailed review of the film, but honestly, it's not worth it. In the end, it's just another slapstick comedy from the white American male perspective. (Not that there's anything wrong with that, it's just nothing new.) It is worth seeing... I just didn't LOVE it like I wanted to. All of the theatre-related jokes are priceless, plus, if you're a South Park fan, you'll get a kick out of the fact that Kim Jong Il sounds exactly like Cartman. The songs are hilarious, the puppets are amazing, the sets are breathtaking - really. But when they shot the Janeane Garofalo puppet in the head, I thought, "Wait a minute... now you're taking out your own kind." I guess people don't have to like you just because you've been on Comedy Central.
Overall, I'd give Team America 3 out of 4 stars. Not quite perfect, but fun nonetheless. Like America. (F*ck, Yeah!)
Friday, October 15, 2004
Beer AND Pizza
So, not only did they give us free pizza for lunch today, but they also trolled the beer cart out at 4 o'clock! (Trolled is a verb meaning "to drag beer.") Talk about crazy! I don't know what to say. I might keep this job even after I become famous because it is just too much fun!
I put the picture of Miss Piggy and Kermit at the Emmy's up as my computer wallpaper. It's inspiring. I have to find out what she uses on her face - her skin is perfect!
I am going to see "Team America - World Police" tonight. Can't wait! I will write a review later (Mom). (I'm sure Ellen has already seen it and has formed her own opinion.)
Happy weekend, lovies!
Carolyn
I put the picture of Miss Piggy and Kermit at the Emmy's up as my computer wallpaper. It's inspiring. I have to find out what she uses on her face - her skin is perfect!
I am going to see "Team America - World Police" tonight. Can't wait! I will write a review later (Mom). (I'm sure Ellen has already seen it and has formed her own opinion.)
Happy weekend, lovies!
Carolyn
Thursday, October 14, 2004
Guide Guy - Making Dreams Come True!
Carolyn: Oh, I wish I could advance my career by getting a commercial. What should I do?
Guide Guy: I know! Why not get a job at an Investment Bank that allows you to tool websites like Mandy.com all day and submit your headshot online?
Carolyn: Great idea, Guide Guy!
2 Weeks Later...
Guide Guy: So, kid, how's it going?
Carolyn: Great, Guide Guy! I'm actually going to make a commercial with you next week!
Guide Guy: With me?! But I work alone! I fly solo! This is MY gig, baby, and no two-bit hussy stand-up comic is gonna take it away from me!
Carolyn: Don't worry, Guide Guy. I think you have a few more lines than I do.
Guide Guy: Whew! Alright then. Welcome Aboard!
Carolyn: Thanks, Guide Guy! You make dreams come true!
And scene.
That's right, folks! If you live in Westchester County and you own a TV, you just might see my smiley mug on the screen in a few weeks promoting THE GUIDE. I can't wait! I'm really excited, because you know there's usually a little chemistry between you and your co-star, and I've never done a scene with a book before. Should be educational! (Bu-dump-bump! Ching!)
Click the title of this post to see a great cartoon of Guide Guy in action! (Turn on your sound...)
Wednesday, October 13, 2004
Buster Brown
I talked to Cousin Al's Dad today via email... his name is Albert, too, but he goes by "Buster." He is from New York and he is very proud of his son's accomplishments. He seems like a very nice guy. Who knows - you may be seeing a Castiglia on Castiglia jam session very soon... I could improv while Albert plays the blues... You should definitely check out his CD online - the little clip I heard was awesome.
That's about it for today. I think I blogged myself out yesterday. Life is like that, I guess. Some days you got it, and some days you flaunt it... but other days you just kinda sit around in your pajamas bloated and gassy going "Why God? Why?" (That's not what today is like for me just so you know. Though I am wearing elastic-waist pants. I'm not gonna make the same mistake two days in a row - that would just be retarded.)
So anyway - I'm off to have some lunch! If anything miraculous happens, I'll get back to you before tomorrow. Otherwise, I will be going to a show tonight at Gotham and trying to catch the end of the debate while my husband tries to watch the Yankees cream the Red Sox. (That's why normal people have 2 TV's... but when you live in a breadbox, not so much.)
Quick thought: Do you think John Kerry is a Red Sox fan? Ooh - that would be awful. He probably is though. After all, just because you're sensitive and Europeanish doesn't mean you don't like sports. People who think that being a Democratic Socialist means you're soft have obviously never watched Dutch people watch soccer. Just because they give their hookers healthcare, smoke pot and eat cheese doesn't mean they won't kick your ass if you take their ball away. Cuz they will. But then they'll make sure you get your stitches for free.
That's about it for today. I think I blogged myself out yesterday. Life is like that, I guess. Some days you got it, and some days you flaunt it... but other days you just kinda sit around in your pajamas bloated and gassy going "Why God? Why?" (That's not what today is like for me just so you know. Though I am wearing elastic-waist pants. I'm not gonna make the same mistake two days in a row - that would just be retarded.)
So anyway - I'm off to have some lunch! If anything miraculous happens, I'll get back to you before tomorrow. Otherwise, I will be going to a show tonight at Gotham and trying to catch the end of the debate while my husband tries to watch the Yankees cream the Red Sox. (That's why normal people have 2 TV's... but when you live in a breadbox, not so much.)
Quick thought: Do you think John Kerry is a Red Sox fan? Ooh - that would be awful. He probably is though. After all, just because you're sensitive and Europeanish doesn't mean you don't like sports. People who think that being a Democratic Socialist means you're soft have obviously never watched Dutch people watch soccer. Just because they give their hookers healthcare, smoke pot and eat cheese doesn't mean they won't kick your ass if you take their ball away. Cuz they will. But then they'll make sure you get your stitches for free.
Tuesday, October 12, 2004
What he said! (Or, Cousin Al, Part II)
Soon I will be wearing this to all my shows. (Don't worry - I will wash it between gigs. Or at least Febreze the pits.) I hope it doesn't piss anybody off, but it probably won't piss anybody off as much as a lifetime of having your name pronounced wrong does!
This one's for you, Gram! ;)
Castiglia Famiglia
I am having a seriously great day today. First Ed Helms, now long lost relatives. Sort of. Read these emails and then you'll dig it:
-----Original Message-----
To: Albert Castiglia
From: Carolyn Castiglia
Subject: Cousin Al!
When was the last time you got an email from a stranger? (Probably fairly frequently since you're on the web, but hey.) So, I'm Googling, and I decide to see what other Castiglia's are floating around out there... and I come across Albert, who has the most amazing T-Shirt ever! I am Carolyn Castiglia and I am a stand-up/actress in NYC. You can learn more about me at www.carolyncastiglia.com (so we're even). I wish you had a Baby Doll T, but I'll settle for plain old T style because I love your Ka-STEEL-Ya pronunciation tag - I will wear it to my shows. Please let me know how I can get one.
May the mafia protect you and yours...
;) Carolyn
-----Original Message-----
From: Albert Castiglia
To: Carolyn Castiglia
Subject: Re: Cousin Al!
Hey Cuz,
It's nice to know there's another Castiglia with some artistic skill. I'll be happy to send a t-shirt. I'll send you a c.d. as well. My girlfriend keeps telling me I ought to invest in the baby tees. I'll get wise one of these days. Just e-mail your address to me and I'll have it out to you by next week. I forwarded your e-mail to my father and mother. I hope you don't mind. They'll get a kick out of it. I have family in the Bronx. Were you raised in the city? Anyway, keep up the good work, be well and in the immortal words of Luka Brazzi, "MAY YOUR FIRST CHILD BE A MASCULINE CHILD!!!"
Albert
-----Original Message-----
To: Albert Castiglia
From: Carolyn Castiglia
Subject: Re: Re: Cousin Al!
Unfortunately, my first child WILL be a masculine child, even if she is a girl.
I love that you gave my address to your parents! My Dad will go nuts!
That is awesome re. the shirt (and your girlfriend is right! Always.) ;)
I was raised in Oswego, NY, where there are lots and lots of Castiglia's! People always ask if it's a Spanish name - which is interesting in your case since you are also Cuban. (See, I read your bio.) ;)
It'll be great to hear your CD (I couldn't play it on the web) and please let me know if you are gigging in New York!
Peace, Love and Pizza,
Carolyn
END OF EMAIL EXCHANGE
So, not only does Al have an amazing T-Shirt, he is giving it to me for free. Al, you are the best! You win the Hero of the Day Award, which is a new award I just started because of you. To learn more about my cousin Al, please visit his website. (Just click the title of this post!) See, Italian people are talented at more than just eating and killing. So to all you Goomba's out there who got pissed off about Shark Tale, stop obsessing about our negative stereotypes and look at how much we love each other, huh?!
The Daily Show and Me
So - I love The Daily Show, which is probably no big deal, because, frankly, who doesn't? But I am going to do a show with - oh yes, that's right - Ed Helms. (Click the title of the post for details.) That makes me so happy, because, frankly, he is awesome and if I was in the middle of an Ed Helms/Rob Corddry sandwich, I would giggle with delight while simultaneously being a little bit afraid/feeling dirty. (Not that I don't wanna sandwich-it-up with the main man Stewart and his sidekick Colbert - of course I do - I just figure you can't have everything.) Samantha Bee - you are one lucky chick. (And God knows we are lucky to be included, eh?) It always weirds me out when there is like one woman on the lineup, but luckily I will not be the only vagina in the house - the MC is also a woman. Yay!
Anyway - it is uncool to be excited, which is why I changed the title of this post from "I'm so excited!" to something a little more lame perhaps but definitely less emotional. Now that I am uncool for still wanting to smoke I can not bear to also be uncool for showing excessive emotion. That is just too much uncool for one girl to deal with. It reminds me of that time in middle school I got my period and bled all over my jeans. Now that was uncool. (FYI - it is also uncool for a female comic to talk about the fact that she has a reproductive cycle - because GOD KNOWS men NEVER talk about their dicks! - but I feel like being risky today.) I'm on FIRE! (And by the way, I'm not technically "talking," I'm writing, so, those rules don't apply.) I mean, there are plenty of books out there about the female reproductive cycle, and not a lot of those same type of books for men, so maybe that's why they talk about it so much and touch it all the time. They are just trying to learn. I think I just solved all the issues between the genders. God, this blog-ing thing is AMAZING!
Enough about comedy. What else is there? Today I am wearing too tight pants which I vowed to stop doing because it constricts the blood around my waistline, thus making me want to puke all day, but which is possibly a good thing, because afterwards the pants might not be so tight.
Pants don't fit me. They are either too big or too small. I know there are many women who suffer from this flaw in design... why have we not rallied together? Where is J. Lo to lead us through the "If pants fit in the ass they're too big in the waist and if they fit in the waist you'll never know cuz you can't pull them up over your ass" campaign? This is bullsh*t. (Why can I say ass but not bullsh*t? Is ass worse than sh*t? I don't know. I'm sure I can say bullsh*t - I mean, I am just censoring myself, but somehow I feel like sh*t is worse because it comes out of a body part, whereas ass is just the body part.) Great. Anyway - I am sick of being marginalized and ignored by politicians! I want pants that fit, damn it! And not just some elastic waist granny knickers - no! I want some sexy pants that work for day but shift easily into night so I can stop wearing my pajamas out. Let me go check the John Kerry website to see if this matters to Teresa. She is Hispanic/African/something that makes her not exactly white... she might relate. I am straight up white as far back as I know, and yet I have been blessed with the ghettoest bootie around. I am thinking about founding the East Harlem Coalition on Properly Fitting Pants (or EHCPFP) to get something done about this. I should see if there is interest among women in the neighborhood.
I must do something about these pants so that my daughter and her daughter and her radioactive biohazard child after that do not have to suffer the itchy red imprint of a button that develops ironically right next to your actual belly button from wearing pants that are just a smidge too tight. (Did I mention that it's just a smidge? I mean, it's not like I'm fat or anything. It totally has everything to do with the design of the pants and nothing to do with the way I eat.)
Well - I've got to go. It's almost time for lunch! What should I have today? Salad? Pasta? French fries? Pizza....... That's it! A salad made from pasta, french fries and pizza! Gotta stay healthy after all. I've been thinking about going on a diet or trying to lose some weight, but why bother? My pants aren't gonna fit whether I'm a size 6 or something a few sizes larger that in some stores is found in the Plus section which is bullsh*t because I am not fat! I am just big boned. Right Mom? (sigh...)
Anyway - it is uncool to be excited, which is why I changed the title of this post from "I'm so excited!" to something a little more lame perhaps but definitely less emotional. Now that I am uncool for still wanting to smoke I can not bear to also be uncool for showing excessive emotion. That is just too much uncool for one girl to deal with. It reminds me of that time in middle school I got my period and bled all over my jeans. Now that was uncool. (FYI - it is also uncool for a female comic to talk about the fact that she has a reproductive cycle - because GOD KNOWS men NEVER talk about their dicks! - but I feel like being risky today.) I'm on FIRE! (And by the way, I'm not technically "talking," I'm writing, so, those rules don't apply.) I mean, there are plenty of books out there about the female reproductive cycle, and not a lot of those same type of books for men, so maybe that's why they talk about it so much and touch it all the time. They are just trying to learn. I think I just solved all the issues between the genders. God, this blog-ing thing is AMAZING!
Enough about comedy. What else is there? Today I am wearing too tight pants which I vowed to stop doing because it constricts the blood around my waistline, thus making me want to puke all day, but which is possibly a good thing, because afterwards the pants might not be so tight.
Pants don't fit me. They are either too big or too small. I know there are many women who suffer from this flaw in design... why have we not rallied together? Where is J. Lo to lead us through the "If pants fit in the ass they're too big in the waist and if they fit in the waist you'll never know cuz you can't pull them up over your ass" campaign? This is bullsh*t. (Why can I say ass but not bullsh*t? Is ass worse than sh*t? I don't know. I'm sure I can say bullsh*t - I mean, I am just censoring myself, but somehow I feel like sh*t is worse because it comes out of a body part, whereas ass is just the body part.) Great. Anyway - I am sick of being marginalized and ignored by politicians! I want pants that fit, damn it! And not just some elastic waist granny knickers - no! I want some sexy pants that work for day but shift easily into night so I can stop wearing my pajamas out. Let me go check the John Kerry website to see if this matters to Teresa. She is Hispanic/African/something that makes her not exactly white... she might relate. I am straight up white as far back as I know, and yet I have been blessed with the ghettoest bootie around. I am thinking about founding the East Harlem Coalition on Properly Fitting Pants (or EHCPFP) to get something done about this. I should see if there is interest among women in the neighborhood.
I must do something about these pants so that my daughter and her daughter and her radioactive biohazard child after that do not have to suffer the itchy red imprint of a button that develops ironically right next to your actual belly button from wearing pants that are just a smidge too tight. (Did I mention that it's just a smidge? I mean, it's not like I'm fat or anything. It totally has everything to do with the design of the pants and nothing to do with the way I eat.)
Well - I've got to go. It's almost time for lunch! What should I have today? Salad? Pasta? French fries? Pizza....... That's it! A salad made from pasta, french fries and pizza! Gotta stay healthy after all. I've been thinking about going on a diet or trying to lose some weight, but why bother? My pants aren't gonna fit whether I'm a size 6 or something a few sizes larger that in some stores is found in the Plus section which is bullsh*t because I am not fat! I am just big boned. Right Mom? (sigh...)
Monday, October 11, 2004
Awesome weekend!
First of all, I won the Wheel of Death challenge at Mintyfresh on Saturday night at The Duplex. I am very proud of my win because I get very competitive at this game. You have to create a pun based on an audience suggestion, and you play against two other comics. If you lose, you have to spin the Wheel of Death (pictured) and suffer one of the punishments. Our suggestion was "Volkswagen" and the structure of the pun was: I saw a movie about ____ that was so bad! (How bad was it?) And then you deliver a brilliant punchline. I nailed it with my last zinger: "I saw a movie about VOLKSWAGENS that was so bad - it was FAR-FROM-NUGEN." Get it? It's a clever pun on VW's 90's-era catch phrase Farfignugen. (I don't boast for nothin'!) I have to give Bigg-Upps to my boys Allen and Jamie who are awesome and who I could have easily lost to - but I di'int! It was really my "185 Turtles walked into a bar..." joke that clinched my win early on, but I can't recreate it here because the spirit was just moving through me and I was speaking in tongues so I don't really remember what I said. It was something like "You try saying something with turtles! Painted? Sea turtles!? What I want to know is, who let these damn turtles into the bar?" and then when I was interrupted I said "This is my punchline - don't interrupt me! I will WIN!" See - it's not what you say - it's HOW you say it. Just like in politics. Only funner.
Then last night I had my friends from the 'hood over... we had a lovely salad, bruchetta, pasta dish with shrimp and Nutella dessert pizza. (Mo' Bigg-Upps to April who cooked the food, except the dessert pizza which was from Pie by the Pound. Awesome shop off Union Square - check it out.) We talked about how smoking is now "not cool" because it is "bad for your health." That is bullsh*t! Smoking may be "bad for your health," but it is great for your image, which is great for your self-esteem, which is more important than "health." How come smoking was not "not cool" when I thought smoking was not cool? This is so unfair. Now I have to be outside, alone, shivering and black-lunged and once again un-cool? I sold out to your peer pressure and now I have to sell out again just to get back to where I started? That sucks. It reminds me of that time in middle school when I wore fluorescent yellow Umbros over a pair of white pants and everyone, including my "best friend," ridiculed me. But I got the last laugh a year later when I was the one wearing Benetton and Guess and she was the one who dropped out cuz she was pregnant. Not sure what that has to do with smoking, but definitely a story worth telling.
Thursday, October 07, 2004
Wunderbar!
Now I have some links up! Yay! I am slowly figuring this stuff out.
I am now going to try to ad a web counter to the blog and then that will be it for my technological journey into improving your experience here at "Carolyn Castiglia - Undiscovered Superstar."
The rest of my efforts to improve your experience from this point on will be word-based and thoroughly comical. I hope you can trust me in that. Here goes...
Is it possible that cold medicine can linger in your system for days on end or am I just a retard? This cold will not go away but I haven't taken medicine in days because I have had a show every single night and I wanted to be perky and aware, not lofty-headed and balloon-brained. And it's been working - because at night I feel fine - but then in the morning I feel like I'm in another dimension. I'm sure the fact that I stare at a computer screen under fluorescent light all day like a plant growing without dirt in a lab at Disney World doesn't help. I must fix this problem. I wish I could see the outdoors before the winter settles in and I am surrounded by plates of nachos and mugs of hot chocolate. But I am stuck inside, making money off the man, trying to share my thoughts with you, my mother and her friends at work and the famous comic Ellen DeGeneres. At least we have each other.
If I have any other fans out there, won't you please leave me a comment? I need your love and support to deal with the fact that I am only given light and water at my job (and the occasional free beer and slice of pizza... and sometimes there's good sandwiches left over from meetings in the conference room, but that's not the point.) I would so much rather be shopping. If I have to look at Suze Orman's face telling me what to do with my money one more time... What money, Suze? I spend half my money getting to work and clothing myself for work and eating at work and I spend the other half of my money paying my phone/cable/internet bill trying to commiserate with the rest of the world about how much we all hate work and whatever is left (after you add up two halves, which as you know isn't much) I spend on alcohol because commiserating without booze just isn't the same!
So, America, this half-drunk on days old acetaminophen tablets conversation I've just had with you really only has one point. Vote for John Kerry, and then you won't have to work. Why? Because Democrats make dreams come true, and Republicans rig the lottery so that only people who are already rich win.
That's not true and you and I both know it, but neither is anything the Bush campaign says, so why should I play fair?
Adieu, mes amies. Goodnight, goodnight - parting is such sweet sorrow - I hope I don't feel like sh*t again tomorrow.
I am now going to try to ad a web counter to the blog and then that will be it for my technological journey into improving your experience here at "Carolyn Castiglia - Undiscovered Superstar."
The rest of my efforts to improve your experience from this point on will be word-based and thoroughly comical. I hope you can trust me in that. Here goes...
Is it possible that cold medicine can linger in your system for days on end or am I just a retard? This cold will not go away but I haven't taken medicine in days because I have had a show every single night and I wanted to be perky and aware, not lofty-headed and balloon-brained. And it's been working - because at night I feel fine - but then in the morning I feel like I'm in another dimension. I'm sure the fact that I stare at a computer screen under fluorescent light all day like a plant growing without dirt in a lab at Disney World doesn't help. I must fix this problem. I wish I could see the outdoors before the winter settles in and I am surrounded by plates of nachos and mugs of hot chocolate. But I am stuck inside, making money off the man, trying to share my thoughts with you, my mother and her friends at work and the famous comic Ellen DeGeneres. At least we have each other.
If I have any other fans out there, won't you please leave me a comment? I need your love and support to deal with the fact that I am only given light and water at my job (and the occasional free beer and slice of pizza... and sometimes there's good sandwiches left over from meetings in the conference room, but that's not the point.) I would so much rather be shopping. If I have to look at Suze Orman's face telling me what to do with my money one more time... What money, Suze? I spend half my money getting to work and clothing myself for work and eating at work and I spend the other half of my money paying my phone/cable/internet bill trying to commiserate with the rest of the world about how much we all hate work and whatever is left (after you add up two halves, which as you know isn't much) I spend on alcohol because commiserating without booze just isn't the same!
So, America, this half-drunk on days old acetaminophen tablets conversation I've just had with you really only has one point. Vote for John Kerry, and then you won't have to work. Why? Because Democrats make dreams come true, and Republicans rig the lottery so that only people who are already rich win.
That's not true and you and I both know it, but neither is anything the Bush campaign says, so why should I play fair?
Adieu, mes amies. Goodnight, goodnight - parting is such sweet sorrow - I hope I don't feel like sh*t again tomorrow.
Wednesday, October 06, 2004
Okay...
Now my photo is up, but my lip is so distorted I look like I chewed it obsessively or got burnt by a falling curling iron (that happened to me once - it was funny but it hurt). I don't understand! Why can things never be good for me? I just want a nice picture on a nice blog! That's all! Like Jenny Rubin's. Her picture looks exactly like her! Oh well...
On a side note... (blast from the past!) CNBC had a caption on just now that said "The Veep Debate." Are you kidding me? Is CNBC so cool that they have to use 16-year-old IM-speak? Sari, CNBC, but u r stewpid! LOL.... L8r!
Care-oh-lyn
On a side note... (blast from the past!) CNBC had a caption on just now that said "The Veep Debate." Are you kidding me? Is CNBC so cool that they have to use 16-year-old IM-speak? Sari, CNBC, but u r stewpid! LOL.... L8r!
Care-oh-lyn
Rgh...
I am trying to play with my blog - to make it better. I finally posted my photo in my profile... why is it not showing up on my blog? I don't know. How come other people have links on their blogs but I can't figure out how to do it on mine? I'm a smart girl - I went to college - granted I got a degree in Musical Theatre, but still... they made us take math. (Actually, I dropped out of "Why Math?" my Super-Senior year, which probably explains a lot but is how I ended up meeting my husband, so, no regrets. I would rather have regular sex with a guy who helps me pay the bills than have a deeper understanding of word problems.) Anyway - I am going to try to fix this blog situation... if anyone (Mom, Ellen) has advice on how to get links up or show my picture or do any other cool, time-wasting activities, please let me know.
Thanks,
Carolyn
Thanks,
Carolyn
Monday, October 04, 2004
You've got a friend...
So, my friend Jodi sent me this great review of her show today, and I am so happy for her. And right before that I sent some of my friends I perform with a note reminding them how much I love being around them. It was nice. Friends are the most important thing you can have in life. Because even if you "make it," you will still feel lonely sometimes. (Right, Ellen?) I mean, let's say you're famous, and you want to share a pizza with your buddies... what if the only person around is your bodyguard? That's not gonna be any fun. Because first of all, you and your bodyguard probably aren't the best of friends (and if you are you have lost all touch with reality) and second of all, he's gonna eat most of the pizza. That's just not cool. You've gotta have your good friends around who know how many pieces you like and what toppings you want and when to pass the garlic sauce.
That reminds me of a fantastic joke by Robert Kelly about pizza. I won't recreate it here, but if you live in NYC, go see him live. He is hilarious.
Friends. Can't live with 'em... Can't live with 'em. That always ruins things. But it is good to have them next door.
Love, Carolyn
That reminds me of a fantastic joke by Robert Kelly about pizza. I won't recreate it here, but if you live in NYC, go see him live. He is hilarious.
Friends. Can't live with 'em... Can't live with 'em. That always ruins things. But it is good to have them next door.
Love, Carolyn
Friday, October 01, 2004
BEER!
Okay - you know what? I am drinking a free beer, provided by my office, at my office. That's right! I am at the computer, Budweiser in one hand, mouse in the other, and I am loving life. This temping thing isn't the worst thing ever. I mean, they keep feeding me and getting me drunk... (okay, I am an extremely cheap date who feels fuzzy after three sips and is impressed by a ham sandwich because it actually has meat, but still...) I like it here. Not enough to actually take a job, but I like it. You don't have to be amazing here. There's no pressure. These Swiss people have a real way of making you feel like they actually care about you. Crazy, right? Cuz I always thought Switzerland was so neutral. Apparently they have a lot of free beer over there and that must help keep them so level-headed. That, and chocolate. Cuz I don't know if you've ever had a Lindt Swiss Chocolate Truffle, but they are FARKING GOOD!
Is it the beer, or the cold medicine, or the fact that I took both?... I don't know - but I feel good!
Happy Weekend, Lovies!
ckc
Is it the beer, or the cold medicine, or the fact that I took both?... I don't know - but I feel good!
Happy Weekend, Lovies!
ckc
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