HAPPY!!

I wanted something significant to happen in February...and with 8 hours left in the month, it finally happened! It is just endlessly amazing to me how you NEVER know what's gonna when you wake up each day...and how, once Big Change DOES happen, positive OR negative, you instantaneously can't remember/imagine what life was like BEFORE. Like MINUTES before. It's so delightfully crazy!

So January and February are both over. I wanted Serious Life Movement from both months. I ALWAYS want more...but...BUT...yes, I AM satisfied with the changes made. 2007 has so far been trying but ultimately productive. In fact, I think February COULD be the worst overall month of my life. But here I am. I survived! I may start referring to myself as Tenacious G. Thoughts?

ROXETTE, where art thou?

Oh, how I miss my sugary, hook-driven Swedes. Per & Marie...come back to us! I yearn to be taken on another pop joyride.

ROOMIE RAGE continues...

Here's just a small sampling of what my ears have had to endure over the past TWO fucking hours and counting as he watches his alma mater Syracuse play basketball in his room, which is right next to the living room, where I'M struggling to now hear "24" and not take an aluminum bat to his skull...

-CLAP, CLAP, CLAP (each "clap" represents actual # of claps -- so sad, but I started to count)
-"YES!"
-"NIIIIIIIIIIIIICE!"
-CLAP, CLAP, CLAP, CLAP, CLAP, CLAP, CLAP
-"WOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
-"WHAT THE FUCK?!"
-"WOOHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!"
-CLAP, CLAP, CLAP, CLAP, CLAP, CLAP
-"WOW!"
-NASAL GIGGLING (i'm guessing a reaction to an incoming text message)
-"NIIIIIIIIIIIIICE!"
-CLAP, CLAP, CLAP
-"YES!"
-"WOOOW!"
-CLAP, CLAP, CLAP, CLAP, CLAP, CLAP, CLAP
-"Dude, he got pulled out after another dumb play." (just one sentence from the obligatory post-game, pointless, excited, nasal-voiced phone call, whereupon he fancies himself an ESPN commentator)

Aaaaaaaaaaand MY daily nightmare (well, one of many) continues. Anyone wanna trade housing? Rent's SUPER cheap, but the trade-off is your sanity.

Al Gore, GO AWAY!!

I'm so fucking beyond tired of hearing and seeing Al Gore. I'm equally infuriated with all these celebs endlessly praising him like he cured cancer. He "lost" the election more than 6 years ago now...let's get over it and move on. I voted for him...but not because I was SUPER GAGA over him. Look at the alternative I had. But he lost. And he IS a bore...always has been, always will be. Him and Tipper love each other to PIECES...whoopdefuckingdo...I don't give a fuck. That's not why I vote for politicians. Quit being coy about running again; you're gonna make DeCaprio come in his pants. All the celebs panting for him and trying to get up his rectum at the Oscars...oh, Christ, it's all so nauseating. What a shock his life-altering documentary won the Oscar. And Etheridge's song from the movie was BEST of the year?! I've never even heard it. AHHHHHHHHH!!

I'm SICK of hearing about The Environment and Global Warming, too, OK??!?! Don't litter, don't pollute...end of my Greenpeace stance. And guess what, dipshits? Not EVERY January warm spell and Katrina-strength storm means THE EARTH'S TEMP is to blame. It's called WEATHER. It CHANGES. Daily. I'm not DISCOUNTING global warming...i'm just saying 1) i'm sick of hearing about it, 2) its power is yet to be definitively determined, 3) it's not to blame for every extreme weather event. And Al Gore didn't discover it. So, Al, can you take Tipper and hop in with Ed Begley, Jr. in his energy-saving car and ride off into the sunset? Please, I beg of you.

Seriously, i'm THISCLOSE to killing him...

Dipshit, that is. My roommate. My FUCKING ROOMMATE WHO WON'T MOVE OUT DESPITE MAKING TONS OF MONEY AND BEING 31-YEARS-OLD. He's been home 15 minutes and i'm enraged. I'm currently enduring yet another MOTHERFUCKING ONE-SIDED POINTLESS GODDAMN PHONE CONVERSATION IN THAT UNSPEAKABLY AGITATING VOICE OF HIS. MY HEAD IS GONNA EXPLODE. I DETEST THE PHONE and ANYONE WHO USES ONE REGULARLY FOR NON-911 EMERGENCIES. I FUCKING HATE HIM. THE DAY CAN'T COME SOON ENOUGH THAT I NEVER FUCKING SEE OR HEAR HIM AGAIN!!!!!

OK, TODAY i'm having my BREAKDOWN!

Woke up about 7am (after goin to bed about 445am) with my head spinning. It was like one of those movie or TV scenes where there's 20 different voices and images yelling at a tormented person as he or she tugs at their hair, backs toward a cliff they'll fall off of, and says "no, noooo, NOOOOOOOO!!" It was horrible. I felt on the verge of a heart attack. Obviously, i'm still breathing. But this is serious shit. I'm sick of everything and stressed beyond human belief. I'm mercifully better now...5 hours and counting of being totally alone helps that way. Throw in a flickering candle and snow falling for added soothing benefits. Oh, look, JUST as I write that i'm alone, Dipshit returns. Fantastic. I am noooooow...INSTANTLY more stressed. Hello, insipid banter. Hello, endless myriad noises. Hello, glaring overhead lights. OH. MY. GOD. I WANT HIM OUT OF MY FUCKING LIFE. I CANNOT TOLERATE HIM MUCH LONGER. HIS EVERY MOVE AGITATES MY FRAGILE SANITY. OK, enough of him. I understand how people snap, though. I really do. I was very angry, moody, snappish before. In a haze. This week is pivotal. I'll either manage my super stress like never before...or wind up in a psych ward.

MONOTONY

MONOTONY. MONOTONY. MONOTONY. MONOTONY. MONOTONY. MONOTONY. MONOTONY. MONOTONY. MONOTONY. MONOTONY. This is how I feel. Can someone come to my house, shove me in a car, call a truck for my stuff, shave my head, shove a 6-pack of beer in my hands, and drive me to, like, El Paso?

In defense of BECKER

This is a funny show. Just as important, its main character is cynical, nasty, always bitching, middle aged, NOT married and childless...don't see that all the time. And you know what else? It's well-acted and often very genuine and real, without overdosing on sentimentality. About a month ago, I caught an episode about a mother who lost a son on September 11th. It just blew me away how underplayed it all was. It wasn't The Big 9/11 Episode -- that day wasn't even mentioned until the final 5 minutes -- but it handled the topic in such an extraordinarily moving way. Overall, though, it's how much I LAUGH that warrants this blog. This show never got the credit it deserved. Ted Danson actually makes you forget Sam Malone. Bravo, BECKER! An underrated gem.

So long to THE O.C., bitch!

One of the few shows I followed (semi)regularly ended it's relatively brief run tonight. THE O.C. was not only great soapy drama, but very funny, often very real, and will hold the unique distinction of paralleling/defining a very particular era of my life. It's bittersweet to see it go.

I enjoyed the final show. Not TOO This Is Our Final Episode Ever melodramatic. It was very well done, juxtaposing the present with the very first episode via flashbacks. It's funny...before they even showed it, I vividly recalled one scene...and then, there it was -- Ryan looking out the passenger side window of Sandy's car as Marissa stood on the sidewalk, draped in blinding, end-of-day California sunlight. It was such a great scene in a purely visual sense. Super brief, but super evocative -- missed opportunity/youth/promise/California all rolled into one. Ahhh. So great. I shall miss you, Cohens, Coopers, and Atwoods. I'd like to live my OWN soapy CA drama.

The Anna Nicole judge

A fucking disgrace. Another Judge Ito. Good God, must EVERY day bring another reason for me to RAGE?!?!

The Recyclables Conclusion

He took them out...every last one of them...last night! Exactly SEVEN weeks' worth before the spirit moved him. So i'm elated...yet wondering what the NEW pile will grow to...

So VESTS are back?

I've been noticing them more and more. Has Color Me Badd mounted a comeback I wasn't aware of, as well?

Swiss cheese

Have I mentioned how weary I am? Physically and emotionally. But back to swiss cheese...mmmm...comfort food. I really canNOT get enough dairy. I loves the dairy! Milk! WHOLE milk! Butter! Ice cream! Yogart! Cheese! Bring it the fuck on!! I looooooooooooooove swiss cheese. I mean, few things are better than bologna & swiss on rye with mustard. I want one NOW! I'm coming off manic in this blog, though i'm really rather "chill" and zen as I write this. It annoys me when people older than 15 use "chill" as an adjective. I mean to the point where I need to make it the TITLE subject of a blog soon. It SCREAMS "trying too hard." Ok, i need to research something trivial or arcane now. Whatever pops in my head. I love Google...

Weary

Of everything. JUST. WANT. SEISMIC. CHANGE. But wasn't "24" great tonight?! Oh, and happy Presidents' Day! Gee, would be nice to get back on a snowboard before the season's over...

D'OH!!

I didn't blog yesterday!! First time all year I missed a day! Sure, I wasn't around much of the day, and THEN most randomly hung out in the Village from midnight till 3am, but still...I had time to blog, but just didn't. UGH. I failed myself! I failed YOU! I'm very OCD this way...I HATE that I broke the pattern! I must now pick up the shattered pieces of my life and soldier onward...

Today's REASON TO PANIC over terrorism -- the new issue of US NEWS & WORLD REPORT

It's not pretty, but I urge you to read it. All about how our oil refineries are just waiting to be blown up, along with other infrastructure vulnerabilities. Sometimes I think I should be on Homeland Security, because it is APPALLING what has NOT been done to better secure this country since September 11, 2001. I could honestly die from a toxic cloud any day now...and so could you. Well, have a good night! Sleep tight!

My yearly plea/rant -- CLEAN THE SNOW OFF YOUR FUCKING CARS AND TRUCKS BEFORE BARRELING DOWN THE HIGHWAY AT 70MPH!!!!

Yet another -- ANOTHER!! -- BEYOND common sense thing that somehow is lost on many. That's OK, your stupidity can only kill someone; no rush to wake up. I'm heartened to see it's at least gotten heavy media coverage today -- new legislation pending and all! You can mainly thank the shaken and bloodied 18-year-old from the Bronx who barely escaped with his life for that. Big chunk of ice smashed through his windshield. And big riggers...spare me the "how am I supposed to get up there?!" whining. You climb up, you get a ladder, whatever you need to do. Lives are on the line, you unspeakably stupid dumbass fucks!

"NEXT on THE OC...."

This is the last night we'll EVER hear those words!! I will now weep silently.

Shot through the heart

Oh, yeah, it's Valentine's Day. Fucking YAY. I am operating on literally almost no sleep, due to the harsh sound of wind-whipped sleet SLAMMING against TWO bedroom windows allllllllllllllllllllllll night long. I've been a zombie all day. Up much earlier than I usually am. And my bedroom was also oddly cold, so I was also freezing. Just a fucking nightmare night's sleep. And then I shoveled...TWICE. So that wears one out, too. I'm actually not in a bad mood...just TIRED. And the fact that it was Cupid's Hallmark-focused, ridiculously manufactured holiday truly went virtually unnoticed. No one was MINE, and that's just fine...wow, THIS rhymes! To end on a trademark dark note, especially given the day, I was DELIGHTED to read a Dale Earnhardt, Jr. interview today in the new Sports Illustrated in which he totally rails against the chains of marriage. CHAINS is MY word, but he essentially said he didn't wanna answer to anybody, likes being alone, and can't imagine tying the knot anytime soon. GOOD for him!! Now if only he were my friend, i'd have someone to hang out with.

Shoveling snow...yet another life task at which I excel

I wish y'all could join me at my living room window, taking in the sweeping view of my street. What you'd see is house after house of inadequate shoveling prowess...and then MY sidewalk glistening like a diamond. MY pavement is completely free of snow, along with the driveway. And it's not just one pansy-ass tiny path...it's the entire sidewalk. Others have a coating of snow, or a terribly zig-zaggy pattern, or that one tiny path, or all three. That's IF the sidewalk's even shoveled yet.

It's here where I briefly go off on a tangent about WHO shovels. I'M a tenant...but I always shovel. I'm not asked to. I just do it, because I fucking live here and i'm able-bodied and why the fuck not? I loathe renters who do jackshit, expecting the landlord to treat them like royalty. You know, like my roomie, Dipshit. But I digress.

I just don't know why people can't shovel correctly. Yes, i'd rather be doing something else. But it's the Northeast in winter, and it snows, and shoveling is what you do. And you do it RIGHT. So what i'm saying is that 1) i'm competitive even about snow shoveling, 2) I TOTALLY will judge you by how well you do it...or if you DON'T do it at all, and 3) I am a great snow shoveler!

An update on Dipshit and the recyclables

More for my edification than anyone else's. I just like to talk these things out. So since January 2, Dipshit's recyclables have been piling up in the hall closet, some in bags, others strewn about. He FINALLY mentioned them to me tonight. Motherfucker comes into the living room at 9pm and asks for clarification of whether tonight is when recyclables go out because "they're really piling up in there." He quickly mumbled something about how he'll have to take them out tonight. Now i'm sitting there, wanting to lunge at him and push him through the 3rd story window. I act distracted..."what's tonight? uhh, yeah, they go out tonight." As if I didn't know. I'D ALREADY BROUGHT THE FUCKING BIN TO THE CURB. And that was that. From that point on, I was SURE...and I mean SURE...that he was gonna have the audacity to ask me to help him bring HIS shit outside. You see, there'd be like 4 or 5 grocery bags of shit to bring outside, and Lord knows Dipshit wouldn't be able to wrap them all around his 2 arms like a true urban soldier. Or make 2 trips. No, he'd want help. I'm SURE of it. So I was tense the rest of the night, anticipating an awkward chat where I say I know it's petty, but they're his cans and bottles, so no, I WON'T help him bring them out. And the clock ticks...and ticks. And now it's 12:23am, and guess what? That's right...NOTHING went outside. It wasn't mentioned again and the pile-up will now continue. He is a FUCKING LAZY ASSHOLE. And what the fuck's with him TELLING me about the "piling up" of shit? It's like he wants a fucking medal for Being Aware and On Top of Things...in and of itself infuriating, but doubly so since he's 6 FUCKING WEEKS behind the eight ball!! FUCK HIM!! Just fucking take them outside and don't have a goddamn discussion with me about it!!!!!!! EVERYthing has to be a FUCKING CONVERSATION with him! Just DO it! OK, I feel better now. I hope my rage amused someone. Heavy sigh. I guess I should be thankful that at LEAST he's AWARE things are getting out of hand in the hall closet. Maybe he'll be moved to action in the coming days. I'll surely keep you posted.

Speaking of addiction, there's Drew Barrymore...

Coincidentally, she appeared on Letterman tonight as I was ranting against drug or alcohol abuse being called the same type of disease as cancer. Now everyone knows Drew's legendary childhood and teenage abuse stories. But guess what? She still drinks...and ISN'T a falling down drunk in danger of death. She does NOT subscribe to the A.A. bullshit, and is managing JUST fine. STUNNING, isn't it? That's because A.A., fellow humans reading this, isn't SET IN STONE since caveman times as the SOLE way out of addiction. It didn't even exist until the 1930s. BRAVO to Drew for thinking for herself and not following the herd mentality of this world. Not EVERYONE has to go to a church basement, state their name, get a sponsor, and stay COMPLETELY free of alcohol for the rest of their lives. TWO MEN said this was the way it should be done. TWO MEN!! And the world has accepted it as gospel ever since. Certainly, it HAS helped millions to varying degrees. My POINT is that it's not the ONLY way. Rarely in this life is there an ONLY WAY. Sadly (and, yeah, i'm bragging about my smarts and inner strength), a healthy majority of people don't know how to think for themselves and question accepted rules. Drew Barrymore forged her own path out of miserable addiction, and I applaud her for it.

Cancer vs. substance abuse...two ENTIRELY different types of "disease"

This morning on THE VIEW, while talking about the plight of Anna Nicole Smith, Rosie said cancer and addiction are "the same thing." Um, NO. No, they are MOST certainly NOT. I'm not even going to waste my time explaining why. It's yet another case of "if you don't know why, you're a fucking idiot." But I just HAD to put that on the record.

Some Grammy bitch is named AFRICA

Isn't that like my first name being Plymouth Rock?

In defense of The Dixie Chicks

Once again, I feel like I may have blogged about this before. If I have, I apologize, but I just have TOO many things to rage about to keep track. In short, The Dixie Chicks...SUPREMELY unfair backlash against them for saying they were ashamed Bush was from Texas. And i'm not some rabid fan; I'm saying this as an American, and in America we're supposed to have free speech. And spare me the "well, by that argument WE'RE free to ban and BURN their music." BULLSHIT. If you can't see the difference, you're one of the fucking idiots I'm ranting about. I'm merely defending their right to say what they did. But truth and talent prevail, and the Chicks are looking pretty vindicated right now. And, boy, do I LOVE vindication!

BATDANCE!

Just caught this #1 novelty classic on The Tube. Ah, sweet, sweet memories of the Summer of '89! Vicki Vale.

Make fun of Catholics -- WE won't whine and/or kill you

I have two points in one here. #1, well, we WON'T whine and/or kill you if you mock us. #2, and more importantly, why ARE we allowed to be mocked with ZERO public outrage when other religions would be up in arms? Now, let me be clear, I'm no raging Catholic, and so I really don't give a shit, but it's still a very valid question. Hypothetical example: a casual, humorous "fucking Catholicism!" vs. a casual, humorous "fucking Islam!" Oh, wait, Catholics don't fly planes into buildings. But that's just ONE example...

Space heaters...um, can you move them away from your bedding?

And why don't you check the wiring, too...make sure it's not frayed and sparking. I am SICK AND TIRED of hearing about winter deaths from infernos caused by space heaters. I understand there's poor people with inadequate heat who need these things. But I have zero patience for no brains, especially when it involves potentially ending your life. It's an electric heater, for Christ's sake...best NOT to press it up against something that could burst into flames. YA' KNOW?!?!

Anna Nicole's sad end

News broke a couple hours ago that Anna Nicole Smith had died at age 39 in a Florida hotel room. No one knows how yet, but it seemed like the inevitable conclusion, didn't it? Like everyone was checking their watch, wondering when it would happen. And I don't say that callously. It just seemed like an escalatingly pathetic and sad life, equal parts her own doing and the manipulation by others. A terribly tragic waste of a fellow human being, who only a few months ago seemed to have finally found a healthy and sane existence. It's a shame.

NOW SHOWING!

I woke up yesterday thinking about the campus TV show I hosted in college. I'm endlessly fascinated by what thoughts are in my head when I wake. It got me to thinking about my videotapes of all my Emmy-worthy TV spots. I wanted to see them again for the first time in ages, but I never got around to it yesterday. So tonight I whipped one out...a videotape, that is. And I was startled by the date of my first show...FEB. 7TH, too many years ago! Now WHAT are the chances of that?! Coincidences like that are crazy to me...makes me think there's absolutely some cosmic intuition...which I always HAVE believed. And my TV tapes? Fucking riot. The production values are beyond laughable...but that's not the ANCHOR'S fault. I'm genuinely pretty good, dammit. Gotta separate the production values from the TALENT. And the first episode will always have some kinks. By the end of the season, man, it was a finely oiled machine! Oh, how I miss those days...not college, just the hosting of a TV show. It honestly was EXACTLY what I want to do with my life. Or it was at the time. I GUESS it still would feel the same? Fulfill all the same needs? Impossible to say. I just thank God I have these tapes, though they can be as depressing as they are inspiring, for they're constant reminders of what makes me truly happy...which is MUCH harder to attain off a college campus.

My father truly thinks I live in Compton

Afraid for me walking the streets. Amusing.

What did I learn and accomplish TODAY?

It's an ambitious goal, I guess, to ask that of yourself daily. To DEMAND that you acquire wisdom or accomplish something hugely relevant. I say this because I wanted to continue my daily blogging...but nothing stood out to write about in this moment. Which got me thinking, gee, I guess nothing earth shattering happened today...and isn't THAT too bad? Even though I sooooooooooo NEEDED today to be ALL about just "tinkering" and chilling out and UNexhausting myself. But, as i've said many times before, I expect too much of myself, and I'm forever accutely aware of the ticking of the clock and turning of the calendar. And so I feel today was merely OK, despite actually being pretty productive in a lot of mundane ways, and even having MORE good news attached to it. But i'm just like EH. And I hate feeling EH about a day that I spent breathing. But i'm overthinking, right? Tomorrow WILL be more electrifying in LESS mundane ways. I'll THRILL myself to sleep by tackling some long-delayed reading. This being tired before midnight thing is alien to me.

My TRIUMPH of yesterday? TODAY, it got even BETTER!!

Good fucking Lord, GOOD NEWS!! FINALLY!! It's so good, I can't fully process it all yet. I'm also, sadly, too exhausted to down endless bottles of beer. I'll have to swig some rum and Jameson's, though. SOMETHING celebratory!

Silence

It remains terribly underrated. Just stopping...laying down at a time of day when you're NOT "going to bed," or sitting in a chair, whatever...at a time when you're normally mired in LIFE...with no TV, no computer, no phone, no people. Not even reading. Just you and your thoughts...ALONE in SILENCE. Glorious!! And, yes, this IS somehow different from going on a solo walk or run. Peace.

TRIUMPH!!

FINALLY, something goes INCREDIBLY right! Despite residual exhaustion, I am ELATED! What, you ask? Who cares. I'm not here to give EVERY detail of my life. Let's just say it's an incredible, awesome weight off my shoulders...for the time being. Super Sunday indeed!

Gary loves babies

Spent 5 hours with a 22-month-old boy today. I was exhausted to begin with. The week i've had, along with a fresh mile walk in the Arctic chill, will do that. And yet I thoroughly enjoyed my baby romp. Fun with Play-Doh and candy and so much more. And tomorrow, I'll see him again! Yay! Uncle Gary is actually sleepy at 2am...so early!

Yes, I'VE had a bad week...

...but, again, PERSPECTIVE. I HAVE had a hellish week, and i'm now weary, enjoying a MUCH needed Heineken Premium Light. I haven't felt this depleted in a very long time. But in a good way...in a "whew, i've made it!" kind of way. But all I need to do is turn on the TV to see the tornadic hell that has unfolded in central Florida today, and I quickly realize my day could have been MUCH worse. My problems were very valid, but I still have a roof over my head, not to mention my life.

FEBRUARY!?!

The first day of February...a day of significance to me. Another anniversary. Ugh...let's just say TOO much time has flown by. Unfuckingbelievable. And yet, despite this blog, I wasn't dwelling on it...too busy with OTHER unpleasant things. Ultimately, a successful day, though. Can this BE more vague? Settling into the new year good now; yes, it's time to make '07 mine! GOD, is it!