About Me
I spend way too much thinking about me.
This is the blank space where that paragraph should be. Where Did She Go?
This was me. Twenty years ago, or thereabouts. My friend was taking pictures of me, believe it or not, to use as an 8X10 for acting. It’s funny how we delude ourselves. No doubt I was cute but maybe I was waitress material – certainly I’d never make it as an actress not then or now. I got a clue not long after this pic was taken and pursued other things. But looking at this picture, I have so many things I wish I could tell that girl. The first I would tell her: don’t sweat the small stuff. Really, it’s all about the big picture. Worrying about little things is such a grand time suck. I think, unfortunately, I still worry about the little things but I’m getting better at that. To this girl I would said “stop fucking around with your life, you dumb shit. Go to college, study something useful like law or medicine. Be a teacher. Have a decent salary, health benefits and retirement. It isn’t only about love, attention and having fun. In fact, it isn’t really about that at all, unless you have time after all of the necessary stuff is done.”
I might also say, “spring for a real haircut.” So much of my young life was shaped by bad haircuts I did myself – and this is no exception. Check out the way the bangs fringe out; no hairdresser would do that to a person.
The Death and Dying Phase
Today I found out my sad little dog died. She was such a dog that nowhere in my files of photos is there a single picture of her. We adopted her from the pound back in 1999 and was stunned to find her unable to leave the confines of the bathroom. The bathroom floor was where she preferred to stay all day and all night, coming out briefly to eat or relieve herself. She would then return to the bathroom and lay there. Most people who encountered her thought that all she needed was a lot of love and care and she would come out of her shell. The poor little dog was all messed up in the head, though, from years of abuse; she was head shy and, from the looks of it, crate-trained, meaning, she was raised being confined to a crate either by a creep or by someone who just didn’t know better. She was probably beaten constantly for barking or whatever else. Whatever happened to her I’ve never seen a dog like her.
And Then, There it is
Emma and I spent three days in the mountains to visit my mother, Emma’s grandmother, a crazy woman. It’s funny how much we all want to believe our need to have our parents in our lives overrides our knowledge that they aren’t who we want them to be and we probably aren’t to them what they wanted us to be. My mother loves her dog probably more than any living creature. Her home is surrounded by photos of her dogs and her pets yet there aren’t many of her children or grandchildren but for a few here or there. My mother likes having a clean home and it’s as if the neatness is maintained there will be no despair. Panic sets in when the mess threatens the serenity of the uncluttered surfaces.
My A-Ha Moment – I’m Finished with Oprah
Finished, I tell you. Flipping through O Magazine and it suddenly hit me that the cult of Oprah is about perfecting, not accepting. Suze Orman scolding we befuddled and bad financial planners, the array of things we can’t possibly afford – freaking ballet flats for $300? Spanx to suck us in, agonizing books to read on top of being the best mom, the best business woman, the nicest person, the most charitable – you know, enough already. It’s hard enough just remembering to buy and then correctly use tampons so that you can spare that last decent pair of underwear. Christ almighty. When will it end.
Oh, and asterickly speaking, I once went up for a job to be the Oprah guide on About.com. Did not get the job. Why is this not surprising?
Ick, This World
Britney Spears. What more is left to say. Here is how sick we all are. If Britney became Elvis, hell, if Amy Winehouse became Elvis, and suddenly died they would both become saints. Britney would be worshipped like a goddess and no longer chewed up and spit out on a daily basis. But really, what more is left to say? This is why I never want my daughter to go anywhere near show business. There is no happy ending for any of them, even the successful ones. Best any child star can hope for is to fade off into obscurity, you know, become a realtor. Photos of Britney, returning from Louisiana where her teenage sister just gave birth, breaking into sobs as the photographers snap away. But check out the dude in the background, the one in the Ed Hardy tee. The juxtaposition of him and Britney sadness makes this particular photo art.
Why I Read Drudge
I guess my question is, why wouldn’t I read Drudge? So many of my liberal friends don’t because of his obvious right wing slant. We know this to be true. I read him several times a day and have for years. I even used to listen to his radio show and truthfully, it was funny. I think this might make me a bad liberal but I’m a bad everything else so I might as well be a bad liberal. Drudge does what so many have tried and failed at. It isn’t his political slant that keeps people coming back. It’s his ability to capture new news. He leads the headlines much of the time and that is truly where his talent lies. Why he has influence is simply because he’s such a must-read. If you draw enough people to your site and he’s right up there with the New York Times, you can’t help but have influence.
Many bloggers make the mistake of thinking people are there to read your vitriol. They aren’t, necessarily. Maybe a good chunk of them are but the serious numbers comes from providing something no one else can. Huffington Post is a bore to me simply because most of the stuff I read on there is stuff I can find anywhere else. Being Drudge means doing what others can’t. I think you have to be a regular reader to know this about him. His is the only site I look forward to checking – and not even because of the politics – perhaps because of the hysteria. He makes the mundane world exotic and controversial. He also seems to be on PETA’s mailing list because he always outs people who are assholes to animals.
And come to think of it, he often outs child abuse and gun violence. He has an obvious personal moral code underneath all of the hysteria. The one thing he hates, however, is Hollywood. Faltering stars is a favored topic and he really hates stars who corrupt politics, or attempt to.
All in all, there isn’t a better site for breaking news and there isn’t a more interesting site out there than his. This is one of the reasons many of my liberal friends and family disregard anything I think or say about politics – they think I’ve become a conservative and that I only listen to conservative reactionaries. It isn’t true; I read Drudge despite the politics.