It's Everyone Can Bite Me Friday!

I think you'd all be shocked if I revealed the name of the popular Mommy Blogger who exchanged e-mails with me over my choice in the upcoming election. This Mommy Blogger urged me to consider NOT voting. She didn't put that in the comments. Obviously.

Have you seen the new Steven Spielberg-directed commercial that facetiously asks people not to vote? It stars major Hollywood players and asks you to vote. Obviously.

What the hell is wrong with California? Both Obama and Sarah Palin have been hung in effigy in two different places. Maybe we should pay less attention to foreign wars and fix the ones we have here at home?

Now that I'm back down to 123 pounds, I tried on the 9 pairs of jeans I own.

Goodbye Mr. 4.
Goodbye Mr. 6.
Goodbye Mr. Chips.
Hello Mr. 8.

Just how fucking skinny was I? And why do I only own 9 pairs? I have more toothbrushes than jeans.

I'm over at Uproarious discussing one of the most controversial comics of the last ten years, Dane Cook, and how he used the Internet to change the fame game.

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Just A Few Reminders

My memoir continues over at Scrivel and Uproarious has a press release announcing their brand new collaboration with ???

I hope you're all searching in thrift shops for ugly Xmas sweaters. Just take a picture and send it in. This is one of the 2 prizes. That spot above 'check one' was from the camera, not the shirt, which is brand new and I think is L or XL, I can't remember. I have no idea where I hid it but it's here somewhere.

And another shout out to Beckie for sending me SIX MORE CHUCKLES!! The candy, not the laughs, although she HAS made me laugh but you know what I mean and you've heard of my addiction to this candy which CALIFORNIA REFUSES TO SELL. It's not like we're Vermont; we have 38 million people in our state and someone besides me MUST like them.

God, people piss me off sometimes.

End of chat.

Harmony

This is Harmony, who belongs to Jen, who lives downstairs who was visiting one day while I was incarcerated. I call her Monkey Dog because she can jump straight up in the air two feet, clear the armchair and land on my lap. Even my ex-boyfriend couldn't do that.
When she was less than a year old Jen brought her to my apartment and Harmony spent the entire time eating microorganisms off my carpet. I got the hint and had them cleaned.

Here she is licking my teeshirt. I have no idea how many times I wore that shirt during my recovery. 40 hundred? So apparently it was uh, gross.Here I'm restraining her because she would have licked clear through to the bone. My ex-boyfriend COULD do that, however.

End of chat.

Uh Oh, It's Getting Darker Earlier

I have not called AAA to jump my car !
I haven't been back to the chiro !!
I am the definition of inertia !!!
Dr. Drew Celebrity Rehab is back !!!!
I still can't feel my hands !!!!!
Best line on Mad Men last night: Betty, you look wan; do you want a Miltown?

And it's all good because.........say it with me, L e x a p r o.
I'm putting this old card up in case anyone wants to comment: "But sweetie, you HAVE no mind." It's Free Pass Day.

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Two Things I Left Out Yesterday

Due to the aforementioned growing head of mine, it is now crowding out actual things I need to remember, as opposed to just the worst sex I ever had and some questionable fashion choices in the 80's.

The winner of Cancer is a Bitch was chosen by the author and goes to smalltown mom. So snail mail me and I'll forward it to Gail!

Part 3 of my memoir is going up next Wednesday instead of yesterday. I don't know why; have your people call their people.

End of chat.

It's Everybody Can Bite Me Friday!

It's so freaking hot in L.A. I heard it was raining in the Midwest and I almost burst into tears.

One day my mom and I were shopping here in LA and she wanted something that cost about 400 dollars. She was so disappointed she didn't have the cash on her. So I told her to just use her credit card and she said she couldn't because she wasn't sure how much money she had in her French bank. I didn't see the connection. The French government is a wee bit socialistic (although capitalists at heart) and they don't allow their citizens to overspend, thus no bankruptcies etc etc. If you use your credit card, it acts like a debit card, not enough money in the bank? No Can Buy Overpriced Crap. They're never in debt. At the time I thought that was SO DUMB. Now? Not so much.

You know how I hate Twitter, texting and people who talk on their cell phones without an earpiece while they're driving?

I don't get why or HOW we adults grew up without these things and still are lousy communicators. Most of us are frozen at the thought of cocktail party chatter, job interviews, going on a blind date, asking your neighbor for a favor. IMAGINE how fucked up the kids today are gong to be when they get to be our age? Especially men. I can think of only one man I ever went out with who was a good communicator. All the rest barely listened, were watching three games at the same time or just ignoring me. Although women ignore me too. As usual, I'm part of the problem, not the solution.

I find Twitter the worst of them all. "My cat just ran by holding a dead mouse in its mouth." WHY DOES THAT MATTER TO COMPLETE STRANGERS? Newsflash, that is not interesting. My friend Tommy at Hollywood Dad is back and posting and he called me yesterday to tell me he ran into and talked to Posh Spice and David Beckham. That's a pretty big get in LA. He blogged (WITH PICTURES) about it so go already. But would I Twitter that to anyone? Half of you don't think that's interesting so why bore you with it? Although I just did.

Why must we always be in touch? I never texted my mom and asked her to bring my lunch because I forgot it; she made sure I HAD it when I left the house and she had 3 jobs, 2 kids and a 4 bedroom house with no help. AND a husband who ignored her.

That train crash we had here in LA a few weeks ago killed 25 people. The moron driving the train sent 57 texts that day while he was on the train and the last one was sent 22 seconds before the crash. I'm sorry he was killed so he couldn't spend the rest of his life in prison.

It's Uproarious time, where I'm revealing my fav female comic.

So have conversations. Stop typing. Have your people call my people.

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Brillante Weblog Premio - 2008

I have no idea what this award means or even says. Neither did Bill, who gave it to me and animated me on my sidebar. But apparently it's premio so I guess that's good. But based on the word 'Brilliante' I'm assuming this award has something to do with that. So these blogs came instantly to mind:

Not THAT different who is always up to date on politics and legislation in Uzbekistan and her blog is like reading The New York Times with a weekly Haiku thrown in for good measure.

Road Atlas Shrugged, a comic and another blogger who never misses the news and the minutia the mainstream media lies to us about. And her Phillie's are going to the World Series!

Riley's Ramblings. First time author of Driving Sideways, a compelling writer and mommy to a dog and monarch butterflies, this girl does it all with a smile. Which I should borrow sometimes.

Eileen Cook. Another first time author, of Unpredictable, with a wicked sense of humor and a peaceful outlook on life, possibly because she has no children or monarch butterflies.

End of chat with Mrs. Art Linkalotter.

I Heart Your Blog

24 years has already gone by. Do we have a female President yet? I didn't think so.

I got this award from merecat. A lovely Diet Pepsi drinking mom of twins who always leaves lovely comments and is bootiful too. So here's who I'm giving it to:

greenmountaincountrymama, aka Heidi, who always leaves the funniest comments, is a wonderful mom and a phenomenal nurse and whose 5 year old son I'm going to marry when he grows up. I hope he knows what nursing home I'll be in.

The More, the Messier, who home schools her SIX children and still has time to comment on blogs. That noise you heard is me opening my oven and sticking my head inside.

Jenn, who never fails to leave comments on TWO of my blogs, takes care of her kids, her sister's child and is truly a terrific mom. And she's going for her teachers certificate or degree or whatever it's called. Those will be some lucky kids who get her as a teacher. I might have done better in school if I'd had her as a teacher. Although it's doubtful.

As you can see I'm handing out this award to people whose blog I Heart because they have big Hearts. Not a requirement, just something I decided to do. So give this award away or do what you want. I still have more to give out tomorrow.

And go read Uproarious!!

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The Kick Ass Blogger Award

I got this from Jenn at Juggling Life back in 1879 and didn't do what I was supposed to with it so I'm doing it now. Imagine how I studied for the SATs. During the SATs.

First Jenn, thank you and I do kick ass if I say so myself. I'm fearless, outspoken and don't give a rat's ass if people don't like me because of it. I have three readers, should I mention that?

So here's who else deserves the Kick Ass Blogger Award: (and if you already have it well now you have one more):

Jason. For the love of God. Totally puts herself out there. Honesty oozes from the pain she's suffered and survived.

Deb on the Rocks. Can kick the shit out of anyone (except me but if she shows up at my house I'll totally deny I wrote that) with her brazen topics and sex sex sex.

Mrs. K. Raised her daughter on her own until she met a wonderful man but she doesn't put up with any crap from them OR her tennis club.

Bee's Musings. Do NOT cross this chick because she will cross you back, only hers will be funny.

You're supposed to link to me and give them to others but do what you want because I HATE rules and have a wee bit of an authority problem. More awards to hand out coming soon, like 24 years. Now I know why I didn't do this when I was supposed to; it requires THINKING.

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Cancer Is A Bitch

First of all, I'm doing another 'shoe contest.' Only there will be no shoes. This is why:


In honor of Breast Cancer Awareness month, this book, again from one of those amazing 2008 Debs, is my last contest. (Group sigh of relief?) It's the story of Gail Konop-Baker's anxiety, fear, anger, and humor over her cancer diagnosis. So I want the winner to be someone whose life cancer has touched. It doesn't have to be you or even someone who reads my blog.

Sidebar: Read this review, all writers everywhere will groan in unison.

Just write me a comment about someone you know or have heard of who deserves to win this book, someone who could use a big warm hug from a person who has walked in their shoes, worried about leaving her children behind and tried to go on with her life.

This is a very brave book from a very brave author. You'll have all WEEK to put in comments since I want every possible person eligible to have a shot at winning this heartfelt and beautifully written memoir. I'll announce the winner on Friday.

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It's Everyone Can Bite Me Friday!

It's official, I've hit the blog wall. Both writing and reading. Sometimes I don't read for a day or two and find some blogs have 12 posts! I wish I had that much to talk about. And due to said wall, I'm not reading the really long ones because I have TV to watch and naps to take and WAY too much writing on my own end. Which reminds me, my memoir is continuing over at scrivel. It's a little out there for some people but paranormal activities do happen to me and I really suck at love so it's not dull.

McLoserstene went to Australia to see her boyfriend Mike the I Heart The Cock guy. Then they both come back and get to stop off in Fiji for 4 hours. Maybe that's why I've hit the wall, I miss traveling and seeing the world. It really is the best part of my life, to see other cultures and appreciate the beauty of something other than Disneyland. I'm dying to go on safari in South Africa and see China. I think it's time to look into marrying for money.

God, Oprah is a tool. I first heard of the uproar on her message boards a few weeks ago because she wouldn't have Sarah Palin on as a guest. But it's her show, her rules and she didn't owe her audience anything. But the comments mostly pointed to her hypocrisy in pushing the woman's agenda for the last 20 years and the fact that her show and magazines are all about empowering women and how she's used her female fan base to build her empire. And she endorses a man over a woman for President.

Yesterday Oprah had on Gloria Steinem and Billie Jean King and she kissed both their asses for getting women ahead in the world. The Williams' sisters said that thanks to Billie and Title 9, women finally got paid as much money as men at Wimbledon. 40 years ago winner Billie Jean got 37% to the male winner's 100% pay. It was probably my imagination but at certain times in the show Oprah's face seemed to register what her fan base was saying. It was not irony. More like she understood her own bullshit, that women at the top translate to better conditions and jobs for us all. I think she's doing the same thing for her race and if Obama wins, I hope that comes true as we have treated black people like shit for way too long in this country.

I do wish mothers will tell their daughters about these remarkable women and how without them we might still be referred to as a secretary or homemaker or 'the little woman.' Or watch the antediluvian Mad Men on AMC, which sadly chronicles how low women were in the workplace in the 1960's. And men owe Steinem big time. Because of her equality platform, it's not considered a bad thing to be a SAHF anymore.

And don't forget my Friday edition of Uproarious. Talk about the Way Back Machine!!

End of chat.

Shrunken Head

Sometimes I think my head is growing. A hat won't fit right, my sleep mask is suddenly too tight, my brain expands with new neuroses and I notice the curtain hems aren't even.

So today was my 3 week check-in with Dr. C., the woman who let me cry for one solid hour when I first came to see her. I never see male shrinks, ever. I always wonder if they listen as poorly as they do when they're just in a regular job. Or at home watching the game or reading the newspaper. I'd take a gay male shrink though.

Lexapro has taken away all my anxiety and I plan to stay on it unless I move to Tahiti, where there are no hats or uneven curtain hems.

I am so shell-shocked from the stock market that I haven't much more to say except whoever wins this election is not going to have an easy time of it. They are seriously in a lose-lose (war can't be ended in under 2 years/economy is officially in a recession) situation, at least according to my stockbroker who is in a company that didn't go under. Yet.

He urged me to vote with my pocketbook, which is what I'm doing. I don't use the word 'pocketbook'; I say purse. People in their 100's say 'pocketbook' and bookies say 'purse' so I'll vote with my wallet. It's possible the reason my head is growing because my brain is getting bigger, like a man's. (women do have smaller brains). Man, would I put my bigger brain to good use. Free shoes for women, tracking devices for married men and a universal ban on fanny packs and boxer shorts. And that's just the FIRST DAY.

For a laugh go to Uproarious to see some of the ridiculous comedy books from my collection.

End of chat.

Sleeping And I Got A Divorce

2 countries

in 29 hours

on 4 planes

and 60 hours of no sleep.

I couldn't take my relaxing meds because I'd have to put them in their script bottles, which I can't open due to my hands. Not to mention my fear of falling down in the middle of the plane aisle or ON STAGE at Casino Regina. Easily the best venue I've ever played with a sound and light crew of 5; usually comedy clubs have one person to run lights and sound. I had to wear a backstage pass and I haven't had to do that since my old friend Baba Booey took me backstage to see Howard Stern. IN THE EARLY 90's.

Leslie and I tore it up with an hour and a half show and killed. She spent most of her time offstage looking for a Crown and Diet Coke. She had 3 and THIS time didn't end up dancing on the bar or forcing me to do karaoke with her. I managed to get ONE bite of Saskatoon pie! No butter tarts.

Regina is a town of about 200,000 that sits right above North Dakota, which I'm pretty sure is still a state. It rhymes with Vagina and all the natives HATE that people make the same lame joke about it over and over. So they told me about the time Mick Jagger played there and opened with, "I'm not going to make fun of the name of your town. So I guess that makes me a pussy, right?"

I'm always a mess before a show and especially when I have to get up early. I was so exhausted from not sleeping since Tuesday night that I wheel chaired all the way back and thank God I did or else I'd still be wandering the Vancouver airport, which is huge. At one point they transferred me, my purse, my little carry-on and my green and burgundy psychedelic cane to a motorized car since the Regina flight was late getting in.

"Hi, my name is Marie."
"My name is Suzy."

We drove in silence for a few seconds.

"Can you see anything at all?" She asked.
"I'm not blind."

Then I started laughing. I wondered how many other people thought I was blind. I asked her if she was embarrassed about what she asked and she said she was. I told her not to worry since twice in the beginning of my career I asked women in the front row of a show if they were pregnant. AND THEY WERE NOT.

For those of you who have expressed interest in reading my debut memoir, scrivel is hosting Chapter One in sections every Friday for a month. It's up there now so go read it before I start rewriting AGAIN.

End of chat.

Don't Forget About THIS!!

This year's Christmas contest is all about the ugliest holiday sweater you can find. Doesn't have to be yours, just take a picture and email it to me. (Email is under my profile on the sidebar).

Send as many as you want because this year the readers will pick the winner.

Remember these from Single, Married & Divorced for Y2K? Leslie (the one in the middle) bought them and made us wear them even though we're not gay.

I'm leaving for Canada tomorrow and doing a gig with Leslie and will remind her, for the 100 millionth time, HOW MUCH I HATED THOSE SWEATERS. Meanwhile I've still got mine so maybe I'm a little gay, eh?

Sorry I haven't been commenting a lot lately. I haven't been back to the chiro in case something gets more messed up so when I get back from Canada, I'll be going a lot more. And lighting candles for the stock market.

DON'T MISS my two- part review of Chris Rock's new HBO special at Uproarious yesterday and today.

End of chat.

L.A. Sign Of The Times #39

It's Everyone Can Bite Me Friday!

You know how they say women's stress shows up in their stomachs? Not in the boobs, which would be ever so helpful and is so close to the stomach. It's not like the stress needs to travel all the way to Europe for God's sakes. Well I've had a poochy stomach for 2 years and seriously thought I was giving birth to a baby elephant.

My doctor put me on Lexapro for anxiety and whoa mama, elle stomacko is gonno. I'm down 3 and a half pounds to 124.5. At first I thought it was because every piece of food I pick up ends on the floor. Round foods are a BITCH, I can tell you that. And don't get me started on opening jars. Then I figured out that my anxiety had really been cut in half. The pills killed the baby elephant.

I also realized that I've had these symptoms off and on for 10 years, basically since I left the toughest city in the world, Manhattan, and moved to LaLa Land, where people rollerblade in thongs and get Botox for their Shar Peis. When I was in one of my 'moods' I couldn't fall asleep before 5 a.m., had RLS and saw my brain racing around the bedroom on cocaine. I could go three days without food and water and still get up to pee 10 times a night. I could get by on 3 hours of sleep and not feel tired the next day. And then as abruptly as it would show up, it would disappear. And I would forget about it. But this time the hand numbness brought it to the surface so as per usual in life, often the bad leads to the good. And because I have no health insurance, the doctor is giving them to me for free. UNLIKE DR. BOB.

A good psychiatrist is worth every penny and is the only person who should prescribe meds because they spend an hour asking you questions and monitor you closely in sessions for as long as you're on them. She's the one who asked me if I had any symptoms as a kid and as I thought 'who remembers?' I suddenly unleashed a repressed memory of one of my chronic childhood traumas, nosebleeds, a sign of anxiety. As she scribbled furiously on her pad, or finished a Sudoku puzzle, I realized a psychotherapist might have gotten to this question but since they can't legally dispense meds, s/he might not have found it relevant and gone back to why I tried to stab my sister with my Girl Scout knife when I was 13. GP's and Internists are handing out scripts, which is why the US is so over medicated. The meds might or might not work for you but there's no way you'll get to the root of your real problem, which is probably reading this blog at work, unless you see a psychiatrist.

I dyed my hair, something I do every 3 months. I use a different color of blond each time, all close in tints, so it looks natural when it grows out. People always ask me for the name of my colorist and when I tell them my trick they can't believe it. It looks like it did when I was a little girl. Except this month, when it looks like I used finger-paints instead.

Are you supposed to spill most of the ammonia all over your rug and your naked self? And are you supposed to yell FUCK 65 million times while you do this? So there's a less blonder rectangular patch in the back but I can't see it so fuck it. And there is a reddish hue in the front which I can see so fuck me.

I'm over at Uproarious today with a list of things you don't know about standup comics.

End of chat.

It's 94 Degrees In L.A. Today

To those who asked, yes my hands are still numb. If they were on fire right now I wouldn't even know it. But it is warm in here.

Thanks to Bill (animate Bill on my sidebar) for this. I know I'm supposed to link these awards and pass them on and one day I will, when my fingers work better and I turn back into Mrs. Art Linkalotter. The best part of this award is why he gave it to me. "because she doesn't take any crap from anyone, and because she was so kind to me, a total stranger." I linked it because I knew you wouldn't believe the second part of that sentence athough I think we all know the first part is true.

Catch me over at Uproarious today where I'm mean to TWO strangers. I have to go turn off the smoke alarms now.

End of chat.