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2001-06-26 / 11:09 p.m. ~MTV's "Real World" 10th Anniversary/Casting Special Night!~
Here's something truly frightening: I woke up this morning, at exactly the correct time, without setting my alarm! Cue violin stabbing music!!! Yee yee yee, or is it Yigh, yigh, yigh? Hard to spell either way. Yeah, woke right up, hey, it's light, wha? What time is it? Yikes, that's what time it should be, but wait, I didn't even set the alarm, was going to, just flip over on the falling asleep side, the left side, Shawn Wayons is coming on Letterman, that will be interesting, wait, it's 3:30, and I have to pee! Never set it. Apparently there is no need. Sad, very sad. Another horrible soul-sucking, lifeblood-draining day of sitting and waiting for the phone to ring. Clenched fists with each insipid question, each idiotic phone call, caller, why, why, what have I done, why must I be here, why is this how I spend my day, every day, 40 hours a week, and there is no one to talk to, and I cannot read another word, it doesn't matter what book, what magazine it is, can not sit in that cube one more...... Later, A. asks what is wrong, am I okay, I seem...er, bored or something. And it spills out, no, it gushes forth, I-HATE-THIS-JOB!, and she says, okay, hey, it's okay to think it, but you're not supposed to say it, and I say, Hey, YOU asked, oh, you shouldn't have asked, now should you have? I tell her it's draining my life blood, it's Karmic retribution, that I don't know what I did, in my last life, but baby it must have been BAD! And Linda laughs!! Hah, I tickle her now. She thinks I'm sweet now, I'm funny. Tee hee. Yeah, baby, it's penance, oh, I must stay, can't leave, this is it, the end of the line - cue train whistle. Train taking off without me, it dropped me off. I did manage to read a little, the Entertainment Weekly "IT" issue. It's fab, truly. Everyone in it is so fucking beautiful. There's this one guy, Eddie Cahill, "IT Boyfriend", 'cause he always plays the boyfriend, an actor, of course, and he's fucking gorgeous. Dark hair, chiseled jaw, great lips, deep dark eyes. Sigh..... Flip the page, "IT Jailbait", Charlie Hunnam, yeah, he's only 21, but baby! Whoa.....I realize what turns me on about men, as opposed to women, it's the arms, the hands, the shoulders, the chiseled jaw thing - what's up with the chiseled jaw thing? This guy is listed as "...an equal opportunity stud-muffin, drolly seducing both ditzy college chicks and horny working-class blokes...", another actor, everything from "Undeclared" (upcoming film) to "Queer as Folk", original Brit version. Sigh...again. This is great, looking at all these beautiful men I can never sleep with, and beautiful women who will always be more beautiful than I, who've never had a blemish in their lives. Sigh, fucking AGAIN. Then, there's this blurb about Jennifer Saunders, how she's getting the "Ab Fab" crew back together for a reunion (how absolutely fabulous!), and she has this great quote, this great advice someone once gave her, because, well, this is EW, a fantastic magazine, with great writing, and very witty and sardonic, and ultimately VERY irreverent interviews, and she is asked, like a lot of the IT people, what the best and worst advice ever given her was: "I was in this state I'm normally in, which is, 'I just can't write. I can't think of anything!' Someone said, 'Just write that.' And I realized it's true. The second you start writing about ANYTHNG, you can write." And she is right. I remember writing a letter to a friend, an email letter, and I began by saying that nothing was going on in my life, I had nothing to say, but I wrote and wrote and wrote. It was like it was this great first sentence. "Well, I have nothing to say.", and you go from there. Writing here, in this diary is proof of me having nothing to say, but writing anyway. No, I'm no Jennifer Saunders, but have you ever SEEN "Absolutely Fabulous"? I rest my case. Tonight was MTV night, and I'd forgotten....MTV RULES! (Lots of caps and exclamation points in this entry). The tenth season of "Real World" gets under way, next week I guess, and tonight was the "Casting Special", wherein we get to meet the chosen few, before they know they are chosen, and see the runners up, before they know they are LOSERS. Great fun. Highly attractive twentysomethings, all blemish free, all multi-color, some homophobic (the North Dakota guy is one step away from dragging a gay dude from his pickup, I swear), some very open and willing to try anything. Fun, fun, fun. I loved it, and I cried at the end when Ellen admitted to being a bitch and knowing that everyone hates her. Sad, sad, happy, happy, she made it! Whoo hoo!! And the commercials on MTV, whoa! There is this one for low cut Levi's jeans, like I wore in elementary and high school, and it's these women's navels, bellybuttons, singing about coming out, "I'm coming out....la, la, la" because they are gonna be hanging out all over the place. Well, it's kinda late - Destiny's Child, anyone? Ahem. This is nothing new, but Levi's wants you to think it's totally rad. So, it is. Great spot. I love a clever TV ad. Love it. Used to think I should be Darren Stevens, coming up with the latest ad campaign to please Larry, Samantha helping me all the way...... Ahhhh, youth. Watching MTV makes me forget I'm 40, makes me feel I'm just like those kids, I can spend that week in Palm Springs, flirting, fighting, for the cameras, kiss the dude who's disgusted by the idea of two women kissing....ever since he found out sis is a les. Horrors! Hmmmm...he didn't make the final cut. Yeah, I could've done it, twenty fucking years ago. But guess what? There was no "Real World" then. I'll be watching season 10 though, bet your ass. Off topic: I looked at my Caller ID and saw that Steve called me last Thursday, while I was out getting cat food, the Summer Solstice heat/smog fest day, the day I came home and cried and ranted in my diary about how I shouldn't be menstruating, how I hate traffic and my life. He'd called, no message, but I didn't even notice until today. I wrote to him. Ack, it's true. I put fingers to keyboard and cranked out something inocuous, totally harmless, just stuff, just like this entry. I said I knew he'd called, wondered what he would have said, had I been here, picked up the phone and said, "Hello?"...... Cost of the War in Iraq
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