I'm No Private Dancer
I realized after Valeska's kickass party that I would make a terrible stripper. I ran out of tip money for the open bar and so I danced the pole for 2 bucks a pop to get more drinks. I realized that I would be a terrible dancer when I yelled at one person (who shall remain nameless) for only giving me a dollar. Though I did manage to make five off a surprising person.
So I guess I wouldn't be broke if I went professional. Now if I can figure out how to not get bruised. I look like I was beat down on an episode of "Cops"
Tuesday, April 26, 2005
Saturday, April 23, 2005
Too Many BFMs
There was a moment in San Francisco where I lost it. Not crazy or crying—nothing that dramatic—but I just felt myself fall. Chloe, Lucy and I were in a bar in the Market District—a smoky swanky place named Amber filled with all types of San Francisco deviants.
It was fun, a couple of mixed drinks, a pack of cigarettes, and a lot of standing. I felt a little to L.A. with my velvet coat and Kutcher type hat but I was enjoy the moment. As we kept scanning the room for seats I watched this random group of friends. They were just like my friends in LA—the pretty one, the trendy one, the bitchy, the funny one and the gay one. Just like us.
Except it was different—the gay one was chatting up another guy sitting with them. I realized that they were boyfriends—they were making out and holding hands as I watched. There shouldn’t be anything special about this except it was a straight bar—with their straight friends. It gave me a total BFM.
Boy Friend Moment. That sudden urge where all you want is someone to kiss, to cuddle with, to be sloppy drunk and romantic. I don’t ever have those moments. I think of love like I do religion; it’s for other people but not really for me to believe in. I don’t want to light candles or say little prayers for something that may not really be out there but maybe I’ll change my mind. It will take an act of faith.
Which is why it is so weird for me to be having these thoughts, heart in my throat, watching other with jealousy. I don’t like how lonely couples make me feel, how sad I get when I see other people happy. Normally I just smile at the images and chalk it up to fate or foolishness. I guess I learned that from watching my family’s multiple marriages, to just laugh and roll my eyes at love.
But now I’m feeling the pangs, the stirrings and having too many BFMs.
There was a moment in San Francisco where I lost it. Not crazy or crying—nothing that dramatic—but I just felt myself fall. Chloe, Lucy and I were in a bar in the Market District—a smoky swanky place named Amber filled with all types of San Francisco deviants.
It was fun, a couple of mixed drinks, a pack of cigarettes, and a lot of standing. I felt a little to L.A. with my velvet coat and Kutcher type hat but I was enjoy the moment. As we kept scanning the room for seats I watched this random group of friends. They were just like my friends in LA—the pretty one, the trendy one, the bitchy, the funny one and the gay one. Just like us.
Except it was different—the gay one was chatting up another guy sitting with them. I realized that they were boyfriends—they were making out and holding hands as I watched. There shouldn’t be anything special about this except it was a straight bar—with their straight friends. It gave me a total BFM.
Boy Friend Moment. That sudden urge where all you want is someone to kiss, to cuddle with, to be sloppy drunk and romantic. I don’t ever have those moments. I think of love like I do religion; it’s for other people but not really for me to believe in. I don’t want to light candles or say little prayers for something that may not really be out there but maybe I’ll change my mind. It will take an act of faith.
Which is why it is so weird for me to be having these thoughts, heart in my throat, watching other with jealousy. I don’t like how lonely couples make me feel, how sad I get when I see other people happy. Normally I just smile at the images and chalk it up to fate or foolishness. I guess I learned that from watching my family’s multiple marriages, to just laugh and roll my eyes at love.
But now I’m feeling the pangs, the stirrings and having too many BFMs.
Where the Heart Roams…
So last weekend I went up the coast to San Francisco. To see my girls Lucy and Chloe—to hang out with Kirby and into the drive. I kind of wish I hadn’t.
It has nothing to with my girls—I love them all dearly—and the trip was wild and funny. It is just the city itself—the beautiful wonderful city. I love it dearly, a magical place that seems like it has come out of a fairy tale that I dreamt about as a child.
As I wandered the streets, up and down Filmore, through the Castro and around the Painted Ladies I realized that I love everything about the city. The sense of magic and possibility, the feeling of anything could happen, anywhere and with anyone. It’s the smallness of the neighborhoods, the crest of each hill and even the familiarity of riding the bus across the town.
But it scares me, the feeling of comfort and ease to which I respond to the town. It’s almost too perfect, too pretty. It feels like a place that would steal my heart but also break it. It’s the prettiest boy who’s not bought me a drink, the best job I ever lost, the pants that fit like a dream—until I eat a meal. It’s too close to heaven to not to be hell.
And yet the taste of it lingers on my tongue—like a dry martini or a honey laced cracker. I don’t know what to do with the feelings yet.
So last weekend I went up the coast to San Francisco. To see my girls Lucy and Chloe—to hang out with Kirby and into the drive. I kind of wish I hadn’t.
It has nothing to with my girls—I love them all dearly—and the trip was wild and funny. It is just the city itself—the beautiful wonderful city. I love it dearly, a magical place that seems like it has come out of a fairy tale that I dreamt about as a child.
As I wandered the streets, up and down Filmore, through the Castro and around the Painted Ladies I realized that I love everything about the city. The sense of magic and possibility, the feeling of anything could happen, anywhere and with anyone. It’s the smallness of the neighborhoods, the crest of each hill and even the familiarity of riding the bus across the town.
But it scares me, the feeling of comfort and ease to which I respond to the town. It’s almost too perfect, too pretty. It feels like a place that would steal my heart but also break it. It’s the prettiest boy who’s not bought me a drink, the best job I ever lost, the pants that fit like a dream—until I eat a meal. It’s too close to heaven to not to be hell.
And yet the taste of it lingers on my tongue—like a dry martini or a honey laced cracker. I don’t know what to do with the feelings yet.
Thursday, April 14, 2005
Just SO True
Carey: 'Glitter' Was a Lighthearted Distraction From 9/11
Superstar Mariah Carey can see a positive side to the critical-mauling and poor sales of her Glitter film and soundtrack album - it cheered up Americans following the September 11th attacks. The semi-autobiographical film was released only a month after the singer's much-publicized breakdown and ten days after the terrorists attacks in New York and Washington DC. Carey tells the New York Post newspaper, "The problem was Glitter was about a diva moment. It was too close to my life. Another thing that people don't remember about Glitter is that it came out the week of 9/11. The movie became a pressure release for everyone dealing the intensity of the attacks. Glitter was the safe joke of the day."
Carey: 'Glitter' Was a Lighthearted Distraction From 9/11
Superstar Mariah Carey can see a positive side to the critical-mauling and poor sales of her Glitter film and soundtrack album - it cheered up Americans following the September 11th attacks. The semi-autobiographical film was released only a month after the singer's much-publicized breakdown and ten days after the terrorists attacks in New York and Washington DC. Carey tells the New York Post newspaper, "The problem was Glitter was about a diva moment. It was too close to my life. Another thing that people don't remember about Glitter is that it came out the week of 9/11. The movie became a pressure release for everyone dealing the intensity of the attacks. Glitter was the safe joke of the day."
I have Always Wondered
Your Sebastion, your attractive, but willing to
destroy peoples lives for your own enjoyment,
you also have a thing for your step sister..
hmm thats alittle incesty..
Which Cruel Intentions Character are you?
brought to you by Quizilla
Your Sebastion, your attractive, but willing to
destroy peoples lives for your own enjoyment,
you also have a thing for your step sister..
hmm thats alittle incesty..
Which Cruel Intentions Character are you?
brought to you by Quizilla
My Mom Probably Does Yours Too
So the other day was dull—nothing big--just woke up and had coffee, washed my face, and checked my e-mail. I was kind of surprised to find this e-mail from my mother…
“Got up early this morning, couldn't sleep, and I read a little bit of your blog. I know that you wrote that it isn't anything that needs to be commented on. I guess it's like a diary on line. I read some others as well. I personally can't put my thoughts out there for the world to see. You’re very brave. It does however give perspective to the man you have become and I am glad you sound like you are finally happy.”
My first response was to reread my blog—had I written about sex or drugs or bad shopping tends? Did I have anything there that she shouldn’t read? After a quick scan—nothing too bad, too prominent that could be too embarrassing—I thought about what my mom would take away from my words, my memories, mylife here on the page.
I guess I am happy—things have been good, light-hearted, easy. I haven’t done anything drastic or odd or too off the beaten path. And I realized that it was okay for my mom to know where I am at. So often I hold back with my parents,just a little more than they need to know, just a little mystery.
I know that we all believe that our parents will not get it ,be upset, judge us. I guess I’d rather believe that if they can see—in our words, thoughts and ideas—that we are happy and that is enough. I hope.
So the other day was dull—nothing big--just woke up and had coffee, washed my face, and checked my e-mail. I was kind of surprised to find this e-mail from my mother…
“Got up early this morning, couldn't sleep, and I read a little bit of your blog. I know that you wrote that it isn't anything that needs to be commented on. I guess it's like a diary on line. I read some others as well. I personally can't put my thoughts out there for the world to see. You’re very brave. It does however give perspective to the man you have become and I am glad you sound like you are finally happy.”
My first response was to reread my blog—had I written about sex or drugs or bad shopping tends? Did I have anything there that she shouldn’t read? After a quick scan—nothing too bad, too prominent that could be too embarrassing—I thought about what my mom would take away from my words, my memories, mylife here on the page.
I guess I am happy—things have been good, light-hearted, easy. I haven’t done anything drastic or odd or too off the beaten path. And I realized that it was okay for my mom to know where I am at. So often I hold back with my parents,just a little more than they need to know, just a little mystery.
I know that we all believe that our parents will not get it ,be upset, judge us. I guess I’d rather believe that if they can see—in our words, thoughts and ideas—that we are happy and that is enough. I hope.
Wednesday, April 06, 2005
Why I Love My Roommate--
Edie is in Australia working on the film and this is one of her cheif concerns--accroding to her e-mail..
"Of course one of the first things I had to do when I got here was find the closest malls and main department store. It's odd though because it's fall here and all the clothes are all about winter. It's really mixing me up, my brain is thinking spring and they're trying to sell me sweaters. I'm trying to put my finger on what the fashion trends are here. Since they have winter after us, are they copying what we wore this past season or are they the first one to wear what we'll be wearing next year? I haven't decided yet, but I'll keep you posted. It seems to be a small mix of both"
I love the fact that she is not only confused by the trends of the Land Down Under but that she will keep us abreast of what she discovers.
I guess this is what she means by the peril of the gobalization of world fashion.
God Bless the little clotheshorse.
Edie is in Australia working on the film and this is one of her cheif concerns--accroding to her e-mail..
"Of course one of the first things I had to do when I got here was find the closest malls and main department store. It's odd though because it's fall here and all the clothes are all about winter. It's really mixing me up, my brain is thinking spring and they're trying to sell me sweaters. I'm trying to put my finger on what the fashion trends are here. Since they have winter after us, are they copying what we wore this past season or are they the first one to wear what we'll be wearing next year? I haven't decided yet, but I'll keep you posted. It seems to be a small mix of both"
I love the fact that she is not only confused by the trends of the Land Down Under but that she will keep us abreast of what she discovers.
I guess this is what she means by the peril of the gobalization of world fashion.
God Bless the little clotheshorse.
Monday, April 04, 2005
Sunday Delights
For every bad day there has to be a good. This Sunday was one of those. Even with the lost hour—which actually helped because I went to bed earlier—every added up today to make it a fun one.
First Naomi and I went shopping. She wanted to go to the zoo but with my sleeping in—it wasn’t going to happen. I’m not normally thrilled by my night hours but I wasn’t in a zoo mood so it all balanced out. We went dress shopping to find her a dress for a wedding next weekend. I ended up getting her to by a sexy little halter-top dress in aqua.
This is only important because she’s a bigger girl—she says it herself—so convincing her to try on something so sexy and daring was very different for her. And it looks really great. Hot actually. (Of course I then ended up buying a pair of really cute pants that are just hot and drrty…)
After that I came home and changed to take Nick out for his birthday dinner. This is a huge step forward for us and I was really nervous. But it went well even though I did order something that I couldn’t eat. I have an odd phobia of eating meat on the bone in public—I just find it nasty. But the spinach was good and the caser salad was better and so I managed to eat something. And the meal was rather surprising but that will be a whole other post.
And finally Kirby and I met up later and had coffee and waffles. We just hung out and talked—about writing and her film class presentation, clothes (however briefly) and more about ourselves then the usual rehashing of everyone else.
At the end of the night it was stress-free and rather fun day. Though I did find time to get sucked into a rather bad film. Those are 2 hours I will never get back. But it can’t all be perfect.
For every bad day there has to be a good. This Sunday was one of those. Even with the lost hour—which actually helped because I went to bed earlier—every added up today to make it a fun one.
First Naomi and I went shopping. She wanted to go to the zoo but with my sleeping in—it wasn’t going to happen. I’m not normally thrilled by my night hours but I wasn’t in a zoo mood so it all balanced out. We went dress shopping to find her a dress for a wedding next weekend. I ended up getting her to by a sexy little halter-top dress in aqua.
This is only important because she’s a bigger girl—she says it herself—so convincing her to try on something so sexy and daring was very different for her. And it looks really great. Hot actually. (Of course I then ended up buying a pair of really cute pants that are just hot and drrty…)
After that I came home and changed to take Nick out for his birthday dinner. This is a huge step forward for us and I was really nervous. But it went well even though I did order something that I couldn’t eat. I have an odd phobia of eating meat on the bone in public—I just find it nasty. But the spinach was good and the caser salad was better and so I managed to eat something. And the meal was rather surprising but that will be a whole other post.
And finally Kirby and I met up later and had coffee and waffles. We just hung out and talked—about writing and her film class presentation, clothes (however briefly) and more about ourselves then the usual rehashing of everyone else.
At the end of the night it was stress-free and rather fun day. Though I did find time to get sucked into a rather bad film. Those are 2 hours I will never get back. But it can’t all be perfect.
Not Only Did I Lose An Hour—I Almost Lost My Saturday Too.
One of the hard things about working on the nightshift is the lack of time with my friends. I miss out the usual weeknight fun—drinks with the girls at Chipolte, catch up dinners with Charity, coffee with Ruby and milkshakes with Kirby—then with Friday nights tied up I miss out on the BR gang. Sadness.
So instead my entire weekend becomes about Saturday—the one chance I have to see pretty much everyone in one fell swoop. Whether it’s game night or roof top BBQ, a party or just low maintaince hangout—it has to have bang for the buck. And this weekend it wasn’t really going to happen.
I blame the films—Sin City in particular—the one group activity I hate. 20 some odd people trying to coordinate a night out involving line saving and group seating is just not something I find fun anymore. I got over it in college. Nonetheless I was saddened to realize this was ‘the plan’ for the weekend and wasn’t going to out all. Maybe curl up with Charlotte on the couch and be old maids together. Good times.
It wasn’t until a late night Friday that Lola and I talked and she revealed that she, Joy, Cheryl, and Rocky went to Sin City that night—which meant Saturday fun could still be had. Lola and Rocky were going to a friend of a friend of a friend’s karaoke party. Which should have been the first sign of the wrong to come.
Karaoke—when does it go right? Only if drunk, high, or with very untalented people. Which Saturday had in spades—the untalented part at least. We rolled out with Rocky, Eugene in tow and made our way into deepest darkest Korea Town and a private party karaoke bar for a birthday of someone we might know.
After a pit stop to 711 (Oh thank Heaven) where we brought booze that we were told we could bring—which might have saved the night. Unfortunately we were told no outside drinks and they only had vodka without mixers and 8-dollar beers—Korean 40’s kind of like Shapro’s. That’s when we should have left. But we didn’t leave until the 40 year old in hot pants—wearing booties—followed up the 2 twenty somethings singing Russian Lesbian Rock. We beat a fast retreat even though it looked bad because we didn’t know the birthday boy.
We made out way to the Square Pad and watched as Eugene and Rocky played boggle as Lola and I flipped through “Star” magazine and laughed at Brittany Spears’ fat photos. (It’s the little things people.) After a bit I was ready to go home—or was I? Once in the car I twisted Lola’s arm to go to the BR.
We made the scene amongst Burbank’s finest and even stumbled over a few of the gang who also came by for a drink or two. (No Kelly wasn’t among them.) But we had some fun, light drinking and even a BR brawl. Good times even if I still had to lose an hour to Daylight Savings. DAMN YOU FARMERS!!! (Just kidding.)
One of the hard things about working on the nightshift is the lack of time with my friends. I miss out the usual weeknight fun—drinks with the girls at Chipolte, catch up dinners with Charity, coffee with Ruby and milkshakes with Kirby—then with Friday nights tied up I miss out on the BR gang. Sadness.
So instead my entire weekend becomes about Saturday—the one chance I have to see pretty much everyone in one fell swoop. Whether it’s game night or roof top BBQ, a party or just low maintaince hangout—it has to have bang for the buck. And this weekend it wasn’t really going to happen.
I blame the films—Sin City in particular—the one group activity I hate. 20 some odd people trying to coordinate a night out involving line saving and group seating is just not something I find fun anymore. I got over it in college. Nonetheless I was saddened to realize this was ‘the plan’ for the weekend and wasn’t going to out all. Maybe curl up with Charlotte on the couch and be old maids together. Good times.
It wasn’t until a late night Friday that Lola and I talked and she revealed that she, Joy, Cheryl, and Rocky went to Sin City that night—which meant Saturday fun could still be had. Lola and Rocky were going to a friend of a friend of a friend’s karaoke party. Which should have been the first sign of the wrong to come.
Karaoke—when does it go right? Only if drunk, high, or with very untalented people. Which Saturday had in spades—the untalented part at least. We rolled out with Rocky, Eugene in tow and made our way into deepest darkest Korea Town and a private party karaoke bar for a birthday of someone we might know.
After a pit stop to 711 (Oh thank Heaven) where we brought booze that we were told we could bring—which might have saved the night. Unfortunately we were told no outside drinks and they only had vodka without mixers and 8-dollar beers—Korean 40’s kind of like Shapro’s. That’s when we should have left. But we didn’t leave until the 40 year old in hot pants—wearing booties—followed up the 2 twenty somethings singing Russian Lesbian Rock. We beat a fast retreat even though it looked bad because we didn’t know the birthday boy.
We made out way to the Square Pad and watched as Eugene and Rocky played boggle as Lola and I flipped through “Star” magazine and laughed at Brittany Spears’ fat photos. (It’s the little things people.) After a bit I was ready to go home—or was I? Once in the car I twisted Lola’s arm to go to the BR.
We made the scene amongst Burbank’s finest and even stumbled over a few of the gang who also came by for a drink or two. (No Kelly wasn’t among them.) But we had some fun, light drinking and even a BR brawl. Good times even if I still had to lose an hour to Daylight Savings. DAMN YOU FARMERS!!! (Just kidding.)
Saturday, April 02, 2005
Even When It Sucks
So there was a mistake made on Invasion Iowa--my first story producing position. They forgot to include me on the credits!!! I e-mailed Paul--one of my bosses to see if they had aired it on another night. (working nights made it hard to get to see it).
Paul e-mailed a nice letter andtalked about somehow they forgot to place the change and that he was upset about it. And then he posted this on The Invasion Iowa blogg.
Hey There,
Paul Coyne again here. I wanted to add one little correction in the credits of our show....
Somehow, there was a mistake in the credits and Rory LaPointe, who began on our show as a tape logger and was promoted to Story Editor, was credited incorrectly. If his family or friends are out there reading this - HE WAS A STORY EDITOR!!!
Those responsible for checking that the credits were accurate will be dealt with!
Somehow in the mad rush to get this show completed, that one slipped through the cracks and I wanted to get it out there publicly for the world and his family to see.
I've worked with Rory on several seasons of Big Brother and I was lucky to have him on our team for Invasion Iowa. Rory is one of the sweetest and most dedicated and talented guys and I'm crushed that his well-deserved promotion wasn't properly recognized.
Rory was my touchstone for the Don Rath graveside scene because he was the most vocal person about it's need to be non-exploitative. I hope Rory was satisfied with the way it turned out.
Again, my apologies to Rory and my thanks to all of you.
- Paul Coyne
That's the nicest thing ever written about my work--and I saw the scene and it was amazing.
So there was a mistake made on Invasion Iowa--my first story producing position. They forgot to include me on the credits!!! I e-mailed Paul--one of my bosses to see if they had aired it on another night. (working nights made it hard to get to see it).
Paul e-mailed a nice letter andtalked about somehow they forgot to place the change and that he was upset about it. And then he posted this on The Invasion Iowa blogg.
Hey There,
Paul Coyne again here. I wanted to add one little correction in the credits of our show....
Somehow, there was a mistake in the credits and Rory LaPointe, who began on our show as a tape logger and was promoted to Story Editor, was credited incorrectly. If his family or friends are out there reading this - HE WAS A STORY EDITOR!!!
Those responsible for checking that the credits were accurate will be dealt with!
Somehow in the mad rush to get this show completed, that one slipped through the cracks and I wanted to get it out there publicly for the world and his family to see.
I've worked with Rory on several seasons of Big Brother and I was lucky to have him on our team for Invasion Iowa. Rory is one of the sweetest and most dedicated and talented guys and I'm crushed that his well-deserved promotion wasn't properly recognized.
Rory was my touchstone for the Don Rath graveside scene because he was the most vocal person about it's need to be non-exploitative. I hope Rory was satisfied with the way it turned out.
Again, my apologies to Rory and my thanks to all of you.
- Paul Coyne
That's the nicest thing ever written about my work--and I saw the scene and it was amazing.
Friday, April 01, 2005
Me Too Lola
You're "Cheerleader". You love
cheerleading, Le Girl magazine, and looking so
good! You are popular and the leader of Teen
Girl Squad.
Which Member of Teen Girl Squad are you?
brought to you by Quizilla
You're "Cheerleader". You love
cheerleading, Le Girl magazine, and looking so
good! You are popular and the leader of Teen
Girl Squad.
Which Member of Teen Girl Squad are you?
brought to you by Quizilla
Rory, if you were a movie, you'd be a Suspenseful Thriller
Nothing is simple. Especially you. Like your movie match, you've got lots of plot twists, and you'd like to keep it that way. That's right, you're no open book.
Whether or not you actually lurk in the shadows, you do like to keep people in the dark sometimes. Mysterious and enigmatic, you keep people guessing. When they think they've got you figured out, you enjoy throwing a curve ball their way. Maybe it's the element of surprise that tickles your fancy. Perhaps it's the shock value. Or maybe you're just intensely private. In any case, you keep life intriguing and unpredictable. And that's what makes you such an interesting individual.
Nothing is simple. Especially you. Like your movie match, you've got lots of plot twists, and you'd like to keep it that way. That's right, you're no open book.
Whether or not you actually lurk in the shadows, you do like to keep people in the dark sometimes. Mysterious and enigmatic, you keep people guessing. When they think they've got you figured out, you enjoy throwing a curve ball their way. Maybe it's the element of surprise that tickles your fancy. Perhaps it's the shock value. Or maybe you're just intensely private. In any case, you keep life intriguing and unpredictable. And that's what makes you such an interesting individual.
What's Your Bridget Jones Moment?
Rory, your Bridget Jones moment is Putting Your Foot in Your Mouth
Your mouth is moving but your brain is begging you to put a sock in it. Sound familiar? When the guy you admire approaches, does it seem like you always fumble for something witty to say, and succeed in blurting out a dorky or offensive remark instead? This is your specialty.
The good news is, your heart-felt apologies, desperate back-peddling, and prolonged blushing reveal your inherent charm. Your heart is certainly in the right place, and your earnest nature makes you completely lovable. Until next time, at least.
Rory, your Bridget Jones moment is Putting Your Foot in Your Mouth
Your mouth is moving but your brain is begging you to put a sock in it. Sound familiar? When the guy you admire approaches, does it seem like you always fumble for something witty to say, and succeed in blurting out a dorky or offensive remark instead? This is your specialty.
The good news is, your heart-felt apologies, desperate back-peddling, and prolonged blushing reveal your inherent charm. Your heart is certainly in the right place, and your earnest nature makes you completely lovable. Until next time, at least.
Rory, you're a Beach Party Bonanza
Sweet, sincere, and always up for some fun — that's you. And that's why a mellow and merry beach party is the perfect gathering for you. You try not to sweat the small stuff and often enjoy the simple things in life. So whether you'd be the one roasting dinner over the fire pit or tossing the Frisbee, what you'd most enjoy is a good time together with good friends. Pass the marshmallows!
Sweet, sincere, and always up for some fun — that's you. And that's why a mellow and merry beach party is the perfect gathering for you. You try not to sweat the small stuff and often enjoy the simple things in life. So whether you'd be the one roasting dinner over the fire pit or tossing the Frisbee, what you'd most enjoy is a good time together with good friends. Pass the marshmallows!
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