The devil went down to Georgia
It occurred to me, just recently, that my ennui concerning blogging may be universal; that it may not be something that only I’m struggling with, but may instead be a disease affecting the entire blogoverse. I thought about this for a couple seconds, but then got too bored to think about it anymore.
While waiting for Jesse to get ready so I could take him to work, I perused the Gawker Stalker site for news of anyone of note. There were plenty of sightings, but none of my beloved Gabriel Byrne. Pity. I count on my morning Gawk to start my heart pumping right, and because it let me down, now I’m forced to exercise. I ‘forgot’ to exercise yesterday. Anyway, last time I read of Gabriel Byrne, our Stalker had bumped into him outside of the theater in Manhattan where he was – apparently – rehearsing for a play, and to my delight he was carrying a paper cup from Starbucks. It’s not the fact that he’d been to Starbucks, per se, that delights me, because I’m not crazy about Starbucks, but that he’d obviously just visited a place where people buy coffee. People don’t really go to there to buy tea. Okay, some do; leave me alone. My point is, I believe this means I may just be safe - should my dearest celebrity crush ever happen to drop by for a chat, or a snog, whatever - because I have oodles of coffee, and only a couple of stale Earl Grey packets floating around.
“Earl Grey. Hot. Make it so.”
Patrick Stewart is so cool.
You know, in X-Men, when they airbrushed Patrick Stewart’s face to make him look younger during that one scene? I wish someone would do that for me, because this last year or so I’ve been going through hell regarding getting older. We’re aging, people. You are too, even if you happen to be sixteen while you’re reading this (hi James!). It’s inevitable and it’s shit and there’s just no stopping it but at the same time, it’s also very, very wonderful. I love who I am now compared to who I was even yesterday, and am determined to make friends with my under-eye wrinkles because they come with the territory. Besides, they’re not going away, especially as I can’t afford to botox them or stretch them back into my ears. They really only make an appearance when I smile, anyway, and for the love of God, what’s better than smile wrinkles?
I’m trying to be all accepting and philosophical about it, because it beats dressing like the Unknown Comic when I leave the house. I know it’s ridiculous to fixate on one’s faults, as they’re constants. Once we fix one, another just pushes to the forefront; it’s the human condition. So yay the human condition, and I mean that. That is, today I mean it. Tomorrow I may schedule an appearance on Extreme Makeover: Panic Edition. I’d send you all tickets to the big reveal, but I’m afraid I might knock you over with my new huge-big boobs, and that would never do. Geez, everybody gets new boobs - don’t they? - even if they go in for a new nose. Even the guys have to get implants, which usually translates into bigger chins. Wha? Everything must either be made bigger, or shrunken to near nothing - and who can know which should be what, from year to year? Apparently the human condition is outright insanity, and strangely, I’m smiling about it. Which kinda proves my point. Love you guys. xo
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June 1st, 2006 09:34
Am I really first?
June 1st, 2006 09:37
Botox is truly a sign that the American pyche has gone mad! Who will willingly poison their muscles in order to look deranged (I mean younger)? It’s just wrong!
I haven’t posted in a while but that is not due to ennui (which is a lovely word that reminds me of an animal) but because I am really quite stressed and tired and I don’t quite know what to write about since there is too much. But it will be coming today I’m sure.
June 1st, 2006 09:55
Jenn the First! Woo! And all was right with the world.
Firstly, let me say bravo for your use of Charlie Daniel lyrics in your title. (Devil, just come on back if you ever wanna try again. I done told you once you son-of-a-bitch I’m the best there’s ever been.) And also for your use of the word “snog.” Both made me grin widely.
Secondly, Remember in X-Men when Hugh Jackman was so smoldering that I made out with him? That was awesome, huh?
Thirdly, all kinds of love.
June 1st, 2006 10:41
Jenns, I adore the word ennui. I mean, I would if I wasn’t so apathetic right now. hee. It’s okay if you’re not posting; I still go over to your place every day to gaze at your picture. And Heath Ledger’s right: all IS well with the world now that you’re first again. I’m just sorry you’re stressed and tired. Come on over and Heath and I will cheer you up right quick. kiss xo
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Feathy. Please don’t swear on my blog. Which reminds me of “snog” - in the London fog - or a Scottish bog - what IS it with the “og” words, for frick’s sake??
I laughed LOUDLY at your Hugh Jackman comment. And immediately pictured you on that table with him. Mrwowr, pussycat. Hey, that WAS awesome. I can’t even convey to you how much I love you, of course. xo
June 1st, 2006 10:56
The only Botox that ever interested me was the idea of injecting it into the soles of your feet so you don’t feel the pain of high heels. As a five foot three shrimp with a six foot four boyfriend, that really appealed!
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I saw a programme called Reeling in the Years the other night - it shows excerpts from old news footage of what was going back in the day in Ireland. Anyway, Gabriel Byrne was on it, winning an award for the TV series Bracken. It was 1979 and he got the Jacob’s Award for best actor in a tv drama. He was in his late twenties and looking pretty darn good. Even to me and I don’t WANTWANTWANT him.
June 1st, 2006 11:14
This table? Yeah, I’ve pictured that a time or two myself.
June 1st, 2006 11:17
Mornin’ Kellog-Snog-Fog-Blog-Tog-Hog-Wog.
I was so excited to come over and see “June 1st” on your blog, since that was the entire subject of my blog entry this morning… for a moment I thought *”We’re writing about the same thing today!”* and then I realized that you were only using it as a *date* and not a blog topic. Blegh. *Whatever.*
That sounded a bit loooopy I realize.
I really like the idea of having lots of tea choices in my house - but I buy the boxes and then they sit in the cupboard for years and years and years. I do drink an occasional green tea, but it just doesn’t do much for me - not like my coffee which somehow just makes everything in the world right.
Whatever happened to Extreme Makeover ‘let’s find the people who have the worst teeth in the world and fix them up right’ Edition? Haven’t seen that one on the telly for ages.
I can’t imagine one thing on my body that I’d want made bigger.
June 1st, 2006 11:57
Hi birthday girl! You’re 5′3″?? Little thing. I will overpower you with my great heightness when I see you. Mwahhahah! But wait - you’re used to Beloved. 6 fricken foot 4?? Holy smokes. I dated a guy that tall once, which was nice because in heels I tended to tower over my dates.
You should do like me, and take the barefoot and pregnant route. You would never think of Botoxing your feet then.
xo
Oh yeah - and how could I forget to say something about GB? He’s old now, but in his earlier movies he’s one of the only men I would actually be struck speechless by. I mean “Hello, Beautiful” struck! Weird, huh? He has the nose, doesn’t he, and yet I just LOVE.HIM. Get me an introduction, okay, Nines? Please Nines? xo
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Heath, drat, I forgot to check your link before responding to comments. I’ll get to it in a second, don’t despair. You’re despairing aren’t you? Good girl. xo
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Cath, you forgot Werner Herzog.
Don’t feel bad about the blog title debacle. I’ve done the same thing. (Not really. Psych.)
HOW can you choke down that horrible green tea? Oh it’s bad. I’m the same way about the tea choices, though - or I used to be when we actually had people over. The boxes appeal to me. But my hot beverage of choice is always coffee, UNLESS I need comfort in the evenings. Then it’ll be tea. I like peach and vanilla chai. You? Don’t mention green again.
I used to LOVE that Extreme Makeover show! I don’t know what happened to it… I loved how people who really were suffering from deformities, not just imperfections, got help so they could feel more normal, or less noticeable anyway. I miss it. xo
June 1st, 2006 12:00
Ooh lala, baby. That’s the one. It sure wadn’t the periodic table I was talking about. Well, unless you frequent it periodically. But who would want to do that? We’re more the regular schedule kinda gals, aren’t we Heath? Mwrowr.
I LOVE writing Mwrowr. xo
June 1st, 2006 14:17
I had to stop reading the post and look up ennui. Which was kind of a hassle, but then I saw the word of the day email where they send you a new word everyday and I thought that would be fun so I signed up. I will be learning lots of new words so I won’t feel like a dum dum when you and Heather come over.
I go to Starbucks for tea. Hee!
How are you, punkin? xo
Oh, I got a TV and DVD player. Tell Scott I need him to come home and set it up for me.
June 1st, 2006 14:17
It’s true. I tried to think of one thing better than smile wrinkles and I couldn’t. Not one. Lots of things as good but not better. So forge on, happy wrinkles, come what may.
“Even with all my wrinkles! I am beautiful!”
-Edward Everett
June 1st, 2006 14:37
Jeans, my blog is educational! Yay! All my dreams have come true. And Jeans, dum dums are okay, but tootsie pops are the best.
Do chai lattes count as tea? I dunno…
You got your tv!! I’ll make sure Scottydo gets your message - I’d come over and fiddle with wires for you, but I’d undoubtedly screw things up. sigh. You do know how to plug it in, though, thank God. You do, right? Yes.
I’m doing good. You? kiss xo
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Colleeny. You know how somebody can look attractive and all, but then when they suddenly smile, all heaven breaks open and the sun beams down and every angel sings? Those kinds of faces are usually wreathed in smile wrinkles, so I don’t mind. Mmmmuch. I’m going to have to look up Edward Everett. xo
June 1st, 2006 15:01
Dum Dums are better cause they come in root beer. I missed the post about the package. Must of been while I was sick last weekend. Hope you enjoy all of the next package.
June 1st, 2006 15:11
Naturally I’ll introduce you. All Irish people know each other… ACtually, my Beloved’s mother is a Byrne - maybe they’re related! On second thought, it’s a dirt-common name so probably not.
La la la…
Did you not know I’m short? I must give the impression of being taller than I am. How interesting. Although Irish people tend to be shortish anyway. *whisper* Fence is shorter than I am *whisper* The Beloved is basket-ball player tall rather than terrifying and intimidating rugby…er…quarterback (???) tall. Tall and thin rather than huge and overpowering. He’s like a giraffe, all long limbs and gawky grace. Only without the freaky neck. OK, I’ll stop now.
June 1st, 2006 15:22
Okay Heather. No more steamy pictures for two reasons. 1. I haven’t seen the movie yet. 2. I don’t have Charles here to snog.
June 1st, 2006 15:28
I don’t like tootsie pops. ANd I didn’t know dum dums were a candy. So, you’re blog is VERy EduCatIOnaL.
I have to screw the TV to the stand first, then I’ll see if I can figure out how to plug it in. xo
June 1st, 2006 15:41
Screwing the tv to the stand, eh? Heh heh heh. Dirrrrrrrrty.
June 1st, 2006 15:55
Dum dums DO come in rootbeer, Roddy, which is nice, but they don’t have the chewy chocolate center that Tootsies do. So they lose. There’s no reward for all that work.
I ALWAYS do my best to enjoy the presents people send me. Yay! xo
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Nines, I have all the faith in the world in your power to get me an intro to GB. If anyone can do it, you can. After all, you were like, THIS close to Giles!!!! In the airport!!!! The closest I’ve ever been to a celebrity was when the guy who starred in I Was a Teenaged Werewolf stayed at our house when I was little. I KNOW. I lost his autograph, though.
Your description of The B cracked me up. I could tell from his pics that he’s not intimidating - he looks very sweet, actually - but I couldn’t tell that he was so tall. Scott’s 6′2, and so’s Jesse, and Van’s about 6′4, actually… We’re a rather amazonian family. Wait, except for Torie, who’s about 5′4. haha! NOW who can’t stop talking? We really should have gone out to lunch today or something, huh?
xo
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Jenns, all het up and no place to go. You’re right, I guess that WAS a rather spoiler picture, wasn’t it? Woopsie do. Let me just say, it’s not what you think okay? The story still may surprise you, which is nice. Can you drag your sis to it so you have a movie buddy? xo
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Jeans, you’re such a pure soul. How can you not like Tootsies? I thrive on them - I have at least two a day. But that may be why you weigh about eleven hundred pounds LESS than me. Plus the fact that you’re only about 2′4 with a size zero foot. You’re an elf. I mean, the Santa kind, not the LOTR kind. SOMEBODY stop me talking!!!
Have you seriously not set your tv up yet? How can you stand it being there, taunting you, without giving in to the dark side? You’ve already bought the thing, you may as well go all the way with it. It’s too late to go back now, Jeaneee. Mwaha! xo
June 1st, 2006 15:56
Plus, it’s a one NIGHT stand. For shame.
xo
June 1st, 2006 15:58
And here I’m telling her to go all the way with it. hahahaha! Nines, it’s your fault that everything we say from now on is going to sound dirty. xo
June 1st, 2006 16:04
I’m talking downtown…
June 1st, 2006 16:33
Michael Landon stayed at your house? Little Jo Cartwright, Pa Ingalls and that angel fella. Cool and Ruth Ann is related to the original Phantom of the Opera and Wolfman. My brush with greatness would be Tom Peterson paying me to get my hair cut like him. $100.
June 1st, 2006 17:14
Roddy - TOM PETERSON?!?!? You gotta be kidding me! I have to say - even I am impressed that I understood the irony of his “genuine Naugahide” furniture as a child… he’s such an icon.
I used to see WAY too many Tom Peterson commercials when I was up late watching Portland Wrestling on Saturday nights. Go Billy Jack!
June 1st, 2006 17:25
I AM a LOTR elf!!! I am I am I am. Geesh!
Stop Talking!!
I just got the tv yesterday so it has only taunted me for one day. I can’t…. put it together by myself. I need another hand. Next time someone comes over I will grab them and force them to help me. xo
June 1st, 2006 17:52
’tis true yet again! there was this old woman i was thinking of whilst i was typing out that quote … if i hadn’t seen her smile or known her heart i would have never given her a second glance. but i had seen her smile and i did know her heart, if only just a little, and i will always remember her as being truly beautiful though it’s been years since i’ve seen her.
i have to go now. i need to look up what ennui means.
l8r sk8r!
June 1st, 2006 18:28
billy Jack just made the news here again. He was at Foster Auto parts and got beat up by a couple of tweakers. That’s his story and he’s sticking to it. I used to go to Portland wrestling in Eugene, with our downstairs neighbor (when we lived in Fairview) who was a midget pro wrestler. That was a kick.
June 1st, 2006 18:49
Rod - I went a couple of times in Seaside, but really felt I had made the big time when Steve took me to Portland once to see it live and in person AS THEY WERE TAPING IT!!! It was my birthday present.
I still have glossy black and white 8 x 10’s of Billy Jack and some Curt guy - can’t remember his last name. Seems like it started with an ‘H’.
Did you ever watch Portland Wrestling, Kel?
June 1st, 2006 19:14
Which is why I love you, Nines. xo
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Roddy & Cath, um, it must have been another werewolf movie. Crap, what was it? Because it was certainly not Michael Landon who stayed with us. I would have made him marry me (at that time, anyway - well, except for I was about eight).
I was going to say: Oh my God Tom Peterson!! Oh my God Billy Jack!! “Wake up!!! Waaake up!!!” Ol’ Tom, the dude. Also, my brother Danny and I used to play Portland Wrestling all the time to amuse our friends. Our best maneouver was the “belly buck” - and as his belly was bigger than mine, he would send me flying backwards through the air, where I would finally crash to the floor with a dramatic flourish, tuck, and roll. Ta da! We were a hit, I tell you. Ask anyone.
Oh, memory lane. xo
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Jeans, yes yes of COURSE you’re an LOTR elf!! You’re just one of the smaller ones, is all. I was only teasing.
Are you going to be home Saturday afternoon? I have to drive Van to the airport in the morning, and I might just be too sad to go home and be alone. If you’re home alone, I’ll come lend a hand with the tv setting up, and then we’ll watch a movie. Kay? xo
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Colleeny, at first I thought you were telling me you “ate-er skater” and I was a little concerned.
Were you talking about me, with the wrinkled face? That’s so sweet. What? What do you mean you weren’t? I’m sorry, but apparently you don’t know the rules of this chere blog yet. Every single person you mention must be ME.
Kid-DING. I’m glad the wrinkly old lady you were thinking of wasn’t me, after all. Though I want to be one of those one of these days, with my long white hair pulled in a bun.
xo
June 1st, 2006 21:11
Cathy you are thinking of Curt Henning. He passed away a couple of years ago. I never got to Portland wrestling in person. I talked to Rip Oliver once at a flea market. I watch occassionally and see folks who used to wrestle here. Michae J. Fox, teen wolf? Or one of the Lon Chaney’s? That is who Ruth Ann is related to.
June 1st, 2006 21:28
Sorry, I don’t have time to read everyone’s comment right now–tomorrow I will. I just want to say I LOVE Patrick Stewart. And my dad does the perfect impression of Jean-Luc Picard using the very line you quoted. (My dad likes Earl Grey tea only because of that line, I am sure.) (Oh, and his name is Earl. I’m not sure if that has anything to do with it.)
Although it always puzzled me how even sexy old Jean-Luc always got the young, hot sexy women. Kind of like Sean Connery and Julia Ormond. Okay, Seany’s sexy too, but that was just ridiculous. And a little nauseating.)
Off to paint my kitchen!
June 1st, 2006 21:45
It is my last day at uni. I was supposed to look hot. Instead I’m working on an assignment and racing to classes I absolutely mustattend. Wearing what you ask? Red trackpants, runners, an indigo blue fleece jacket, with my hair - an uncombed mess, my face not yet washed. This comment might have an addendum once I finish. This comment might have supplementary photos of the comic I am today at Pereff.
Do I care about what others think? No…except I am the one who cares. Bugger!
June 1st, 2006 21:58
Taleeny, who couldn’t love Patrick Stewart? And, apparently, your dad? I can tell I’m still teetering on the brink of middle age and not quite over yet, in that I find Patrick Stewart on the sexy side, but not totally sexy. Same with Sean Connery. I like them all about ten (or twenty) years ago, including my beloved Gabriel Byrne. Whew. I’m not THAT old yet. And yes, I plan to live to at LEAST 100.
Have fun painting! What color? I did mine bright orange a few months ago. It’s fabulous. xo
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Kaanks, YAY FOR YOU!!!! Wahooo!!!! Congratulations on making it through another year (or are you completely finished?). If you’re altogether DONE, then you deserve a massive celebration which involves flying over here to party with us. Or we can meet in the middle somewhere on a cruise ship. Hey, blogocruise… Or some better name… still… That would be fun, wouldn’t it?
I think you’re beautiful no matter what you wear, Sunshine. xo
June 1st, 2006 22:49
I made a deal with my sister that we had to watch X3 and Pirates of the Caribbean together. So that’s the deal. I’m trying to find a night that we can both go, because if I can’t have Charles I need to at least be able to lust over dear Hugh. Just you wait until I get to see Johnny!!
P.S. I love webcams because I acutally got to see Charles today.
June 1st, 2006 23:02
Kelly, I would love to have you over on Saturday!! That would be great. What time do you want to come?
June 1st, 2006 23:08
Jenns, you did? That’s awesome. I know you miss Chaz… I already miss Scott again, even more than last time. I’m SO glad you have Jo with you to hold your hand and keep you from jumping at the screen every time Wolverine shows up. I don’t know how she’s going to stop you from howling, though. You might need the extra big tub o’ popcorn.
You’d better wear a straitjacket for Johnny. Mwrowr.
xo
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Jeans, okay! I have to have Van at the airport around 8:30a, so time really isn’t an issue. I don’t think you want me showing up at 10a, when I roll back into town. Should we do early afternoon to late afternoon, or late afternoon to evening? Maybe we should actually discuss this over email, or the phone. Now THERE’S a wonky concept! Besides, there’s sure to be food involved.
(hi honey).
June 2nd, 2006 01:09
Okay, I’m with ya’ there on the “sexy side” bit. They have (had) sex appeal, but I totally wouldn’t go for them. I guess that was my point. How come they are always, or at least often, paired with young, sexy women my age? I wouldn’t date them, let alone sleep with them! Yikes! I’ll get there with Jason soon enough, but it’ll be okay, because I’ll be just as old and wrinkly as he is–and probably worse, thanks to the three children I bore!
Who are these women? And don’t blather on to me about writers, directors, etc. My best friend married a man of 50–and she was 24. I just don’t get it. (Not an attractive 50 like my dad, either–more like an overweight, balding 50 with bad teeth.)(Pretty soon, I’m going to start giving my dad stalkers. Hmm…not sure if he’d thank me, or be mad at me.)
June 2nd, 2006 03:53
HELLO! I have bloggin ennui. Maybe even “life ennui” at the moment, I feel like we haven’t “chatted” for such a long time.
I’m glad to read about your wrinkles and sagging, it makes me feel so much better about when we finally meet, I won’t feel quite so bad about my own imperfections
Hope you are well, Kelloh x
June 2nd, 2006 04:01
Lusting over Hugh? Is this what happens when I am away? To shame!!!
Anyway, ennui; yes good word indeed. How can such a good word describe such a boring feeling?
Aging is so much easier for men. A mature woman can be incredibly sexy though. It’s all in the attitude. Sexy has more to do with a mental state then people think. I should know, I am an expert in the subject.
(I couldn’t resist)
June 2nd, 2006 05:29
Taleeny, I wonder if it’s a father-figure transference issue that draws young women to old men. Or money. You seem to have a great relationship with your pops, so naturally you wouldn’t need to replace him with a lovah. I know, ew, but who can explain the human psyche? I mean, besides Freud?
How old are you anyway? See, I’m 41, much much closer to finding those dudes sexy than you are, probably. You’d better not introduce me to your dad.
xo
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Claredy, I’ve been thinking about you the last couple days!! I was wondering if you’re bored, or just busy, or just pregnant or some such. Now that you’ve explained, I understand. Maybe it’s the season - the warm weather, etc., that’s spurring on this feeling? I dunno eggsackly.
I’ve been TRYING to post some pictures of Scott and me so you all can see him, first off, but also me. I definitely have the smile wrinkles going. But I can’t get the pictures to upload - they may be too big. I’m so frustrated. Grrrrr… hear my frustration? Oh well. I will think you’re ab fab when I see you, so don’t worry.
xo
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Chaz, you’re so right. Guys can age with very little criticism aimed at them, whereas women get sucker-punched in the gut with every glance in the mirror. Can you get sucker-punched in the gut? I’m not sure what that means exactly. Maybe you could tell me. Anyway. I think it’s mostly women who criticize each other, though - not men. Men just find women sexy, don’t they? I mean, the women who believe in themselves. I wish we would remember that. Thank you for reminding us. You’re a peach.
Plus, you’re probably just horny and desperate without Jenns. I understand - I mean, not about Jenns, but you get my point.