 Keep the Young Ones Moral |
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A friend told me a few days ago that he told his girlfriend that Carson Kressley reminds him of me. I paused. "Insult or compliment?" "Compliment!" He was forgiven. My other friend is not going to prison. Saints be praised. Tonight I will eat burritos, watch The O.C., and watch Queer Eye. Tuesdays are good. Without Buffy, they are no longer as good, but they are still good. I've been listening to Hedwig (the theater version, not the movie version, although of course I have both) and I am awash in its brilliance. Also, parts of it break my heart. "And there's no mystical design, no cosmic lover preassigned, there's nothing you can find that cannot be found." John Cameron Mitchell and Stephen Trask kill me. They really do. Yesterday I had the good yoga teacher who did not try to snap me in half. I also found out that the good yoga teacher was once married to the bad yoga teacher. I exclaimed, "Well, it's no wonder they got divorced! Their yogas are incompatible! He wants to soothe and stretch and mildly strain, and she wants to maim us." Actually, she's a good yoga teacher, too, I am just too much of a wimp for her, I think. Lately I've been thinking about rereading the entire Ellen Emerson White president's daughter trilogy as well as my other favorites by her, Life without Friends and Romance Is a Wonderful Thing. Shut up. The only other person I have ever known who loves these books like I do is Annegrrl, who I really wish would UPDATE ALREADY. I think I thought about Romance when watching the Broadway special the other night and watching Robert Preston sing "Trouble," because Colin, the book's obnoxious, rebellious, secretly brilliant protagonist, ends up playing the lead in The Music Man and oh, it's a glorious transformation! 
2002:
© Copyright 2003 elb |
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