Sunday, November 30, 2008

Desperate Holidays

I'm twenty minutes through Desperate Housewives and having Gale-Harold-withdrawal shakes. He's "getting stitches" which is code for we-have-no-idea-when-he'll-be-back. How will I endure the long months until his return? My holiday wishes have been answered in that he'll recover. His health is more important than the show (but why is he on Earth if not to entertain me?).

Thanksgiving is over and Dish will arm herself for the next two hurdles--Christmas and New Year's Eve. Holidays are a trifecta of madness. The pretending everything is perfect, just the way you planned, the toasty hearth/home celebrations, overeating, and someone usually has an uncomfortable public moment (okay, that's me). After so many years, I am getting used to the roller coaster. I love my family, I enjoy egg nog, and Superman keeps talking about a present for me. That is close enough to perfect.

Saturday, November 29, 2008

Love in the Time of Ego Waffles

Dish is so proud to have spent yesterday watching literary movies. The message of Elizabeth: The Golden Age: being a virgin queen sucks so bad they had to make two movies about her. You can survive spinstertown if you have a good career, fake wings, and white makeup. The message of Love in the Time of Cholera: If you wait for a woman for 53 years, 11 months and 7 days--even after she makes you cry and vomit, then ditches you for the less sexy Benjamin Bratt--you need a hobby. Also, I learned that Liev Schreiber can do everything—except a Spanish accent.

Time to fly. Superman is taking me to the oh-so glamorous Foxwoods where I can totally be like Eva Green to his James Bond while he plays poker. I had to do some Black Friday shopping in my desperate efforts to be prettier than Superman. This is a relationship of substance and maturity.

Ps. A reliable Dish source reports that opera goddess Marilyn Horne is in town.

Friday, November 28, 2008

Dish: The Golden Age

Instead of cholera, I tuned in to Elizabeth: The Golden Age. Some drunk person once told me I had the potential to resemble Cate Blanchett if I tried really hard to lose 100 pounds, go through years of vocal training, then minor plastic surgery. Poor Virgin Queen (yeah, me too). Clive Owen always appears to eff up those celibacy vows. Elizabeth was like: Don't sail away, I forbid you. And Clive was like: I belong on the water and not untying your untried corsette (though I'll totally bonk your lady-in-waiting). Elizabeth got piiisssseeedddd and threw herself even more at Clive (who was just not that into her). That's the problem with Clive. He could have easily gotten a 2-for-1 deal, receiving even more barf-wagons for the high seas and twice the sex. Even if you are queen, you have to play by The Rules (or find someone much younger). Okay, there was a bit more to this movie, but as Virgin Queen of my universe, I fear my memory is selective.

In other news: Duran Duran had to cancel show dates because Nick Rhodes has an ear infection. Flying would rupture our little lamby's ear drum. Stars always provide good lessons for the little people. I am so developing an ear infection the next time I have to fly.

Thursday, November 27, 2008

Madonna and A-Rod

2gether 4ever? I don't think so. Madonna still hasn't met her match in terms of superstardom (though Sean Penn was oh-so-close). Now if Jesus were alive... Because M's divorcing, this fling with a mortal is understandable. After bad breakups, you need someone really good-looking to reinflate the ego and tell you you're pretty (Thank you, Superman). So, everyone should ignore the secret meetings between Mad-Rod. Not True Blue.

Covert Thanksgiving Posting

Dish just snuck out of dinner to post. Dishmama, Dishbrother, and Dishbrotherfriend are toiling in the kitchen and I'm here being sneaky. Tee hee! Dish not helping! Despite minor avoidance of family, I am thankful for mine. They make all the difference.

Did everyone watch the Barbara Walters Obama interview last night? I heart Michelle and am looking forward to wearing fun bright dresses to emulate her style. Thought Barbara's showing of her dog Chacha made her seem a little insane. But some people are crazy when it comes to their pets. I made mine wear a bra once.

Tonight, it's all about Lifetime or Love in the Time of Cholera -- an uplifting feel-good epic that tugs at the heartstrings (or rather Javier Bardem is a candidate for sexiest creepy guy alive). I hear Javier and Penelope might be on shaky ground.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Tuesday, November 25, 2008


It's too exciting. SVU is full of squeaky voices tonight with Brenda Blethyn and Didi Conn as guest stars. Throw in Captain Honeycutt from M*A*S*H and I'm on Cloud Nine (Major Frank Burns was my fave, tho). Tonight's television more than meets my escapist needs.

In the vein of discovering things way after the fact (Dexter, The Bedazzler, Pearl Jam), I just started watching Mad Men and I'm hooked. My fave is Don Draper's wife, January Jones, who's been cool since Love Actually where she played an easy American ho--a role most of us have played on visits to Europe. While the show is so sexist as to be progressive, the female roles are excellent. We know what Dish is doing with her Thanksgiving week -- wearing scarves and pointy bras (drinking in the afternoon)!

Monday, November 24, 2008

People's Sexiest Man Alive is...

FAAAAAAAABULOUS! Dish endorses Hugh Jackman as King of the Universe. I won't admit it publicly but I bought my mother Kate & Leopold (which lives on my bookshelf). It involves history, another reason I love Hugh. For his smarts (he wears too much clothing). He cherishes the past and has done several period pieces. Not only can he wear Regency clothing, he sings on Broadway. Is there anyone more suited (campaign for GH begins now)?

Life can't get any better. Can it? It CAN! Steven Seagal is doing a reality show about being a cop in New Orleans. I'm so running down to Bourbon Street to break a window and steal me some pastries. I want to get collared by Steven Seagal!!!!

Despite all attempts to eff up my holidays, I'm giddy. Superman is taking me away on our first mini-break. We all know how that helped Bridget and Hugh Grant, but Dish will wear long scarf that flaps out window as Superman whisks us across buccolic Connecticut. V. romantic.

Friday, November 21, 2008


I'm trying to sport a middle-aged maternal/inappropriate crush on the teen vampire in Twilight but I kinda think someone stepped on his face. Unlike everyone, I couldn't get into the book (or any of the Harry Potters) but I smell mania. Maybe I'll pretend I'm into it! Dish will do anything to be hip. Okay, that's not true.

Meow Again!

It cracks me up how celebrities issue statements about their breakups (Paris Hilton and Benji Madden). This is almost as monotonous as status updates on Facebook (though I can't help obsessively reading everyone's and updating mine every two seconds with something clever that has little to do with my real life). For once, I'd like a celebrity to issue a less glamorous statement: like to say she just farted a big mushroom cloud, or broke a nail recleaning her toilet because of OCD, or just that she is sitting quietly screaming in a dark corner for fun. So much more entertaining than news about revolving door relationships.

Thursday, November 20, 2008


You know that shoplifting actress (as if that's a novelty anymore)? Supposedly she ODed on Xanax while on a plane to London. The little boy's scared of flying. I can relate on that score and only blame her for being less than amazing in movies since Heathers. Haven't we all shoplifted and ODed? Well, I shoplifted four magazines once because I had no funds and Duran Duran was on the cover. At least I did excellent work during my periods of vice--except for the D in Physics. I don't blame the Britneys and the Winehouses for being batsh*t crazy as long as they're producing genius in tandem. If not, go take up oxygen on your own planet. How I long for the real Winona to re-emerge and steal some scenes back from Angelina, for Britney to bust some moves (as well as her sequined bikini) in concert, for Winehouse to fill that much-needed role as an original.

It's time to grow up.

Tuesday, November 18, 2008

Resurfacers and Religion

Every holiday season, old flames reappear. They say hello, test the waters, hint at underlying loneliness. One must either humor them or press delete. Since October, Dish has had seven resurfacers and the holidays haven't even started. It's a little like Amy Irving in Crossing Delancey except I don't let the Resurfacers into my house during this season--and none resembles the pickleman. By January 2nd, the Resurfacers retreat until spring, the second highest outbreak of "checking in to see who still loves me."

In a random subject change, a woman talked about God on the subway tonight. Shouted, more like. Passed out a pamphlet. It seemed criminal and I turned up Coldplay's "Lost." The other night, as Superman and I embarked on a marathon of Law & Order, I realized all the witnesses had to put their hands on the bible to swear in. How is this legal? I don't remember such outrageousness when I was a witness. Was I given options other than Jesus? If I had to do it all over again, I would swear upon a tin of Altoids. That is my god.

ps. Though Dish adores George Harrison's "My Sweet Lord."

Monday, November 17, 2008

Caught Up and Desperate

Just finished watching last night's Desperate Housewives. Clutched a handkerchief in case my Gale got burnt to a crisp. I'm thinking this might be his last episode and if they write him off the show, I will cry bitter tears forever. My Sunday night ruined (since Brothers & Sisters is not floating my boat this season) because of Gale's mean motorcycle. Maybe Gale's character should have gone up in flames because it would symbolize that he's too hot for that show. Bring on more Broadway shows, indie movies, and dare I say, QAF: Season Six?

Quantum of Hotness

There I was. Daniel Craig in front of me. Superman beside me. Some cute gay boy on my other side. Life couldn't get more perfect. Well, except Superman chewed on straws, ate all the popcorn, raisinettes, and my drink and his own faster than a speeding bullet. Funny coincidence: these days, the movies are about superheroes. What's the difference with James Bond? Nothing. They all have secret lives. So, my brain is collecting facts. I don't want to be like Lois Lane, pregnant and abandoned by a man with covert missions. Despite my mounting skepticism, Quantum of Solace was fabulous and DC is my fave Bond ever. I could have done without the shaky Bourne Supremacy editing style.

Post-movie celebrity sighting: Mo Rocca. 10:20 pm, coming out of Elmo's on 7th and 19th. He flipped his hood but not before I saw him and alerted Superman (who had no idea who he was). I hissed after Rocca: You celebrities think you can hide, but I always see you!
Maybe I'm excessive. This weekend, I heard a Simon Le Bon story that highlighted my faulty logic in trying to meet The Ones I Love the Most. A husband and a wife were in a bar. The husband loved Duran Duran, the wife not so much. Simon Le Bon entered the bar, the husband plotzed, the wife not so much. Simon became more and more intrigued by the wife, even when she told him, "Not so much. I don't really care about you guys." So, basically, the wife played by The Rules and Simon was enchanted.

I will report the following:

*Duran Duran has never been on my radar.
*I so did not write a fifty-page term paper on Duran Duran in high school.
*If I did like Duran Duran, I would have liked John way more than Simon.
*No mullet graced my head, nor did I wear a felt fedora and sportjacket.
*I definitely did not buy coral lipstick because that's what Nick wore to his wedding.
*And I never, ever named my diaries after each member of the band.
*When I accidentally happened upon a Duran Duran concert last May, I did not almost barf chocolate cookie chunks when I saw Simon enter his trailer.
*I always liked Culture Club and Spandau Ballet instead!!!

Friday, November 14, 2008

Just Because It's Friday

[it's like looking at the sun]

A Wild and Crazy Guy

Interested parties should read Steve Martin's autobiography Born Standing Up. The contrast between his funniness and sobriety intrigues me. The ridiculously funny are often deadly serious off stage (Bill Murray?). Shopgirl seemed true to his life and I'd been skeptical that yet another performer could write a weighty book. Now there are two.

Dish is going dark for a few days. My one question: will Obama put a woman in his cabinet? He should put the most qualified, of course. Women get too emotional about things anyway. Speaking of which...Brenda Johnson's doctor just told her she might have early menopause, which induced Fritz's proposal of marriage. Gotta start bringing boyfriends to my doctor appointments because they love hearing about female biology. I'm now fantasizing about fear of Hillary asking for a spare tampon during an Obama cabinet meeting.

Maybe Dish needs to stop watching reruns of The Closer...

Thursday, November 13, 2008

No Rhyme or Reason

Jennifer Aniston on 30 Rock: Overrated or a cool comeback? Hope it's the latter. Will find out in seconds.

Can't figure out why I love Jonathan Rhys Meyer so much. He seems a little crazy, but so intense. Velvet Goldmine, The Tudors, Match Point. Love him like a sister. Especially enjoy his new Hugo commercial. He's such a renaissance actor.

I'm continuing my affair with the provocative show Tell Me You Love Me and hope Ally Walker gets hers.

Time for TV!

Wednesday, November 12, 2008

Wednesday's Whine

Life is generally good--new Prez, new First Lady fashions, exercising obsessively, not eating as much junk food, and burying myself in productivity during a strange, mostly awful year. Not to mention Dish made a command decision. Duran Duran is playing in three cities nearby this December. I am dying to go. I *could* go, but I've spent enough on them this year. Three times would be frivolous and foolish (yet fantastic). Other concerts will come along.

On the brighter side, finally saw Deadwood: Season 3 disk 3 where Dish's imaginary BF Gale Harold plays lawman Wyatt Earp. My indifference to the show might have tainted my enjoyment of Gale, though it could be the offensive mustache. Facial hair hasn't turned me on since Burt Reynolds in Cannonball Run--what can I say, I was a zygote. With utter objectivity (ha!), I can say GH rocked the part, as he did last Sunday as Jackson, the sensitive artiste.

One of the nice things about aging: simple pleasures.

Tuesday, November 11, 2008

Yes, We Caniston

Supposedly, Jennifer Aniston called out Angelina in the new issue of Vogue. She was like, that's not cool what the Jolie said. Meanwhile, Ange (angel) is threatening to push out more babies, Brad is loving her all over Oprah. I'm like, I wish life were this fun: brushing against equally glittering people, endless clothing, toxic beauty, gorgeous people around (though Dish confesses to having this already), and piles of money so that I could hang out in Target all day long and buy crap.

Okay, I have it pretty good. Plus, as I pop Edy's Dibs (mini ice-cream sandwiches), I get to watch Law & Order: SVU where a homeless man gets his family jewels cut off. Good times!

Monday, November 10, 2008

Okay, I'll Wait in Line

Dish hates standing in line. The track lighting beats down, exposing me to all kinds of scrutiny. What happens if I leave the line? Then I don't get what I want. If I stay, I might choke on my own air. Once the cashier scans my stuff, I'm stuck until he/she's done. When I stand in line, I become Mel Gibson in Conspiracy Theory, only instead of Catcher in the Rye, I tend to buy stuffed elephants on impulse (Duane Reade has an excellent supply). I see them, I have to have them. While I don't have tapioca pudding in a padlocked fridge, I keep a steady supply of Altoids, which remind me minty freshness removes all obstacles. And so does Ganesh the great elephant god. (This sounds a little crazy, doesn't it?) When Superman saw my array of trunk-happy creatures, I told him I was planning on giving them to sick children. Which made me feel super-bad (because I'm going to keep them!). Long story short, I'm getting Tivo. Given my social life, I need to watch my stories at my convenience. I have to figure out how to get TIVO or DVR, which might take another couple years. I'm told the process of upgrading my technology involves waiting in the line from hell. Nothing was worse than my eight-hour wait to renew my student Visa in Paris.

Sunday, November 09, 2008

Random Thoughts as I Procrastinate

At the end of this long and gratifying week, I feel the following:

This election was very special. During this post-9/11 age and Bush era, it's nice to think good things can happen again. As a glass-half-empty person, I reserve some skepticism, but I'm ready to accept positivity.

Dirty Sexy Money is the best thing on television. This week's episode was intense. Especially enjoyed seeing Donald Sutherland in his pajamas. Bring on the geezer sex!

Speaking of geezer sex, I've become addicted to Tell Me You Love Me. Jane Alexander is a hot white-haired crone who counsels couples and one would expect she gets down and dirty at least once. She does! My favorite is Ally Walker, who seems like she would have sharp claws in real life, but she lights up a screen. Love her forever!

If you want to see a dark comedy, rent You Kill Me, starring the mercurial Ben Kingsley and goddess Tea Leoni. It was a little male fantasy-ish in that no way in hell would a nice girl like Tea fall for a drunk OMP killer like Ben--unless she were still brain damaged to think she could change her man. But they are excellent actors and I was able to suspend my disbelief (just as I did in all of Woody Allen's movies where he gets with mega-babes out of his league).

And now, I'm counting the seconds before I can see my imaginary boyfriend on Desperate Housewives. Last week, That Woman Who's Ruined My Life Twice (Hatcher) tried to make up with him but found him with another girl (ha ha!). What excellent shirt will he wear tonight?

Wednesday, November 05, 2008

Bloodshot Rhinoceros Eyes

My obsession with sleep embarrasses me. When people mention slumber, my ears perk up. How much sleep did you get? Because I only got 5 or maybe 5.2 hours. Is that enough? What do you take? Oh that? It never worked for me. Then around my bedtime, which careens toward me as I type, I get a second wind and want to stay up forever. I become enraged as closeby people snore the second the head hits the pillow. For five days in a row, I've barely slept and am reaching crazytown fast. Reminds me of that Warren Beatty movie Bullroar or Bullwinkle or some such (Warren found a legitimate way to do Halle Berry) where the character operates on no sleep. I've been channeling Obama and McCain, who probably haven't slept in two years and make my schedule look like pie (though it probably is like pie). How did they get through the campaign without buckets of drugs?

For this fuzzy day, I chose comfort instead of common sense in Rhinoceros Eyes, a freaky quirky flick with screwed up people doing weird things and something to do with magic props and "seeing." It has a fantastic cast including my imaginary boyfriend Gale Harold (I wondered if he was able to vote), Paige Turco, and Michael Pitt (the new Leonardo who might actually be better than Leo). I enjoyed Pitt's floppy hair, Paige's sparkling face and GH's usual ability to make me forget that my iron is on while I burn a shirt. My brain could only take so much.

And dare I forget--how great that Obama is our new Prez? I blubbered quietly and unexpectedly (a little was sleep deprivation) at that miraculous moment. We've waited a long time.

Tuesday, November 04, 2008

What else but the election?

Dish voted immediately upon awakening, i.e. 7:50 am, this election being such an emotional journey for two years. My choice wasn't easy. It was an uphill battle, made worse by the media, overall mysogyny, fellow Dems and the expectation that I could regurgitate "Yes we can" and believe it. My excitement for Obama to be prezzie wouldn't mean as much if it weren't for the turmoil.

Deep thought: One must embrace beauty whenever possible. Superman is my new beautiful drug of choice and Obama is far hotter lookswise than McCain. As a shallow celeb-aholic, I will finally enjoy having an attractive president after eight years of ugliness.

Monday, November 03, 2008

NBC is lactating

Estrogen has boosted NBC's SNL ratings big-time. No one really excelled at recreating Obama, Hillary or McCain, but then Tina Fey lookalike Palin was chosen and now people are excited about SNL again--and Fey is dead-on (though she always was). NBC has tacked on hours of campaign sketches. Let's hope the funniness continues after the campaign ends. Ben Affleck did a genius Keith Olbermann. I can't wait to get a kitty and name her Prescious Perfect.

Sunday, November 02, 2008

Why Won't Tom Leave Me Alone?

Tom Cruise visited my dreams again last night. How many times does this make and why? I was at a party, so was he. We had one of those sightings across a crowded room. We met in the middle and hugged, not romantically but just like Thank God someone is here for me in this lame party. It felt good to be hugged by Tom Cruise. I told him how much I enjoyed him in Lions for Lambs. He hugged me harder. I guess he's not used to praise.

Now...if only someone could tell me WTF Tom stands for in my life.

Saturday, November 01, 2008

Iron Iron Man

I love to do chores while I watch movies. I thought it fitting to iron during Iron Man. If you love tongue-in-cheek action movies, this one will keep you in chuckles. At first, when I found out Robert Downey, Jr. was going to be a superhero, I thought, Wow, they'll let any crack whore wear a cape, but RDJr is fabulous. Usually I avoid Gwyneth (love her mother!) but she was delightful as the long-suffering assistant. Helped that she was a redhead because then I could imagine it was really Dish (except a little fatter) RDJr was crushing over. No but really, Dish has enough complications. Aside: Is it a universal truth that all bald men are villains? I enjoy Jeff Bridges as a bad guy but missed his luscious tresses.