Dish has been in a deep pit of despair. The holidays and I don't get along. Plus, I've received more reminders that I'm old. Life has passed me by. I have nothing to look forward to. In fact, I have awful things to look forward to. These thoughts come despite knowing that I'm lucky as sh*t. I have health, great husband, family, friends, roof over head.So, I go for a sure-thing when it comes to depression cure-all and instantaneous happiness. Jane Lynch. Her book Happy Accidents is a hoot. I can hear her voice narrating in my head and that makes things better. That and Angry Birds. My editor hat feels there's a lot of "tell, tell, tell" in the book but I like reading about a celebrity who isn't a complete freak, who doesn't live life in a toilet, doesn't rage and ruin hotel rooms and has read a book if not several. I love Jane even more now that I know her life story.
Another sure-thing: Alan Rickman. So I went and booked myself a seat to see him in Seminar during my solo holiday week. See's Candy helps but I overdosed last night and woke up with severe sugar withdrawal.
And now, back to work...
3 comments:
And why is the beautiful and talented Ms. Dish depressed? Is it merely a literary excuse to write about Jane Lynch again?
Such sentiments are the very reason I am getting a copy of the Dana Torres tome "Age Is Just a Number" or something like that. The book isn't wrapped yet and, at this point, if I take it out of the bag to look at the title I might read the whole thing rather than cleaning the house for a party tonight even though one could argue that mopping floors is an ideal form of exercise-whole body movement with a purpose and a payoff that can't be undone with one brief stop at Starbucks.
Anonymous 1: You caught me. I do find every excuse to bring Jane into the conversation. I might have to watch her epic wonderfulness with Cybil Sheppard on The L Word.
Anonymous 2: Just the fact that you're throwing a party means you don't have to read the book and, instead, should be rewarded with multiple trips to Starbucks for stock of Cranberry Bliss Bar. You are embracing life. I'm convinced that hostessing burns more calories than a five-mile run--except for the gin.
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