 Catch Up |
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Sometimes I feel like very stupid things in my life get out of control very quickly. Last week, I was kind of straddling the back of a wooden kitchen chair in order to sit on the back of it. Which turned out to be a very dumb idea, because I felt it start to tip over backwards and immediately flung myself forward so I would fall on my face instead of my back when I hit the floor and on top of the chair instead of underneath it. So I was lying flat on my face on the floor with my legs splayed out behind me in an unnatural spread eagle position and now both of my knees are a blackish purple. It's lovely. Last week at 3:30 in the morning, I woke up because Zuko was shrieking in his crate. There was no thunderstorm, so I knew he must be having a bathroom emergency. I let them both out to go and then back in and then couldn't get back to sleep, so I stayed up until about 5 reading The Year of Past Things during which time I thought very angry thoughts about Zuko and how much I hated his stinking guts for keeping me awake all night. I fell sleep until 6, when he woke up with more shrieks and I determined that a poop bomb had gone off in his crate. Lord Almighty. Thus began the process of washing towels in hot water and detergent and Clorox (hosing them off first) and cleaning out the crate by crawling inside of it and spraying it down with Lysol and wiping it down with every disinfectant I had in the house. He'd barfed a few times outside, which Daisy decided to snack on for breakfast. Gah. I stopped by the vet to see if maybe I could get something for him. Last time this happened, it was Daisy, and he diagnosed her over the phone with colitis and prescribed a pill that put a stop to it. Okay, the vet just called, and I'm dosing him with some Centrine. Here's hoping it helps. I feel bad for being so angry at him in the middle of the night for shrieking, not realizing that it was because he'd crapped his own bed, which he has only done once or twice before in his life. He's much more of an inside barfer than an inside pooper. Pets are a pain sometimes, but what can you do? I love them so much that I love them even when I hate them and even when I am wiping up their slimy, gooey poops. Zuko aggravates me the most of all of them, but he has a way of cocking his head and looking at me that makes me melt and keeps me from ever completely hating him. I can't imagine not having the dumb galoot around. So I've watched the two-hour history of Rent documentary on the DVD, and whoa. I thought it would basically be a repeat of other features done on the show or on Jonathan Larson, but it was outstanding and contained interviews and photographs and footage and information I'd never seen before. It was extremely well done and incredibly moving. Whoever decided to make it and whoever actually put it all together -- great job. Wow. What a treasure. Now I just need to go back and watch the film with the audio commentary. I watched the deleted scenes both with and without commentary, and now I see why they kept talking about the redemption of Benny but we never saw it in the actual movie. It's because all of the redemptive Benny material ended up on the cutting room floor. My little brother called me about this and sang, "What happened to Benny? What happened to his part?" HA! Again, poor Taye Diggs. I still wish "Halloween" and "Goodbye Love" hadn't been cut, and I will never change my mind no matter how Chris Columbus tries to justify it. Having some distance from my first viewing of the movie now, I really can say that I think I would be embarrassed to show it to someone who does not already love the musical because that person would probably hate it and I'd get defensive even though I'd understand why. However, I would not be embarrassed to take someone to the Nederlander and see it there even though I have no idea what kind of cast it's got going right now. The movie is just different from seeing it onstage. Duh. I cannot imagine how it plays to a "regular" person seeing it for the first time who's not already a Rent fan and doesn't know the history. I can imagine it being horrifyingly bad, but to me, it's just what it is, and I love it, and I'm really glad it was made. And that documentary, again, was just first class. As for my thyroid, the third TSH test turned out more like the first one. The doctor could not explain why I started off in the threes, spiked up to over six, then went down back to the threes. She started me on 50 mcg of Synthroid and will test me again in six weeks. I have no idea. I just know that if it will make me feel better, I'm all for it. I'm tired of always being more tired than everyone around me. I finished The Year of Past Things. It was good but not great -- definitely my least favorite of the three M.A. Harper books I've read. I just started Autobiography of My Dead Brother this morning. Yesterday was a beautiful day. Sitting on the front porch with leftover spicy chicken pizza with sundried tomatoes and hummus and pita triangles and ginger ale and Scrabble. My adorable cousin rode his bike over to pick up some books to borrow. I'm not sure you understand when I say that it was a beautiful day. I mean that it is almost unbelievable to be alive on a day like that. Every March, I wish it could stay March forever. I like her makeup and her necklace, but what everyone has failed to mention or even notice is that there is a bow in her hair. A straight-up bow. Thankfully, it's not visible from the front. Why was she a presenter at the Academy Awards? Why? Why? Because she's "hot," that's why. Ugh! Annoying. For the love of God, between the hair and the dress, I'm just not sure what she was thinking. Word is that she and Stuart Townsend have broken up, so perhaps she was just too stricken with grief to care. It's the only explanation. After she lost, I stopped caring about the show altogether. Her dress is not the best, though. Have I not been saying for months that she is becoming beyond beautiful? Whoever her stylists are, they deserve a raise; however, perhaps she needs to hire a chef who will insist on fattening her up a little bit. So pretty, so quick-witted after she almost fell down, and such pretty big breastfeeding boobs! I love her. I wore this dress to a Mardi Gras ball in 1994. Hello, Toby's ex-wife on The West Wing, with the crazy flaming slow motion dancing Crash song. Elegant, graceful, and perfect. I think my favorite moment was when the director of Tsotsi started shouting about Africa love and demanding that the camera be pointed at the young actors in the film, who were right there with him with the love and it was very cool. Pajiba is smart. It's hard for me to be critical of Jon Stewart, whom I love, but I agree with everything else written here. Special shout-out to Jen Wade and Chiara for their thyroid advice. Also, thank GOD Chiara is up and running again. An Internet without Chiara is no Internet at all.
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