boy oh boy, starryshiners, has this been a whack ass day or WHAT?
let me answer that for you:
it totally fucking has.
when last i typed at you, i was all searching my own personal memories of my time in rehab with disgraced writer, james frey. as you may recall, i was totally lamenting the lack of any anecdotes that portray him as a badass as i was hoping to gain some much needed publicity for myself by coming to his defense.
after realizing the conundrum i was in, i got totally depressed and took some extra prescription medication along with some recreational drugs that i won’t identify because they might incriminate me. then i started drinking and calling DJTM repeatedly and incessantly to get him to come home from his recording session.
when he finally got home, he brought fucking whit (my dad) with him and they insisted on doing an intervention on me. i was all, oh come on! this is like grade school all over again, dad! and this time there’ll be no james frey to beat up in rehab! whit got all emotional and exasperated and finally i was all, daddy, would you just have a drink and can we puhleeze talk about something else? i have that single malt you like so much, etc.
so finally he relents and has a couple cocktails and mellows out and is all where’re we going for dinner? of course DJTM was drinking the whole time, along with trips to the bathroom to do some other substance that he wasn’t sharing enough with me and that i, again, won’t identify on the grounds that it might incriminate him and me by association.
we called the car service and as i blog this to you, we’re all in the car on our way to telepan. they’ve got the best cauliflower in midtown there. all is right with the world at the moment. ive got my daddy and DJTM at my side. i’m going to be eating a $15.50 dish of cauliflower within the hour and i’m totally blogging in the car. i totally love blogging in the car. i think there should be a word for it. it should be like pod-casting but like car-blogging. except obviously it should be called something else.
omg. sue is being kind of patently ridiculous about me making it to the set of that new age CSI show on time today. she left me this rather irate message saying all this crap like i better be there on time because these people are very serious do-the-work-and-get-the job-done-industry-types and that they’re like aware of my party girl reputation or some such shit like that. well let me tell you something serious — i’m seriously thinking about telling her that she can fuck right off. i mean, she was seriously totally rude to say it all abrupt like that and it kinda hurt my feelings. i’m always really fragile before i perform and she should know that by now and be sensitive to it. i can’t believe that she would do this to me when what i really need right now, is her support, encouragement, reassurance, understanding, flattery and possibly her anti-seizure medication so i can get this job done right.
what she doesn’t know is that i am totally dedicated to doing this job really professionally and superbly. so dedicated in fact that i haven’t eaten anything since she told me about it yesterday at lunch (so i could lose any potentially fattening H20 weight that might make me look less than totally hott). and she should also know that BECAUSE i wanted to make sure that i got there on time tomorrow, i didn’t even go to bed after i left the china club tonight.
i mean, got there on time friday after i left last night.
wait. i mean, get there on time today.
oh, you know what i mean.
OK. i’m going to go like stare off into space or watch infomercials or play grand prix or do something else semi-mind-consuming but not constructive while i wait for the car service to get here.
i really wish the creepy guy from my car service would quit trying to hug me when i get in or out of the car.
it really disturbs me when people think they’re absolutely entitled to touch or talk to me whenever they want to. especially customer service oriented people. i just don’t think that groping and speaking when not spoken to should be part of the equation in that relationship, you know?
especially when it’s people who are so clearly in separate social stratospheres. but that’s like double infinity especially if the separate social stratospheres involve one person serving another person. the person serving the person who’s being served should remember that it’s not in the person their serving’s best interest to be chatted with or touched in any way. unless of course the person being served considers being touched or spoken to excessively excellent customer service in some way.
maybe i should write some kind of an etiquette book about this subject. i mean, it would totally make sense for me to do something like that. i am, after all, an authority on being served by people because i rarely do anything for myself or others. i mean, i can always get other people to do the things i have to do for me, so who, really, would know better than me how to best give the service oriented professions advice and guidance on how to best serve people like me?
i dunno. it’s probably not worth the effort and if i feel strongly enough about it, i’ll just get someone to do it for me. but the next time that grody car service guy tries to hug me i’m going to scream and then make sure that the car service totally shitcans him.