I laugh about everything for fear of crying.

• music: LOST is on in the background
• mood: trapped

Rozino, you’ve been BLOGGED.  This quote’s for you!

So, we’ve got all our windows open, as it’s barely 70 degrees.  That’s right, suckahs!  Anyway, I’m sitting beside an open window that usually has its blind drawn at this time of night, which has prompted me to notice that the next-door neighbor (ibym "-door"… "-acre") has a large palm tree made out of brown and green twinkly lights.  It’s all very Corona advertisement over there.  It’s, how you say… miles away from ordinary.

Hey! I got CRUISED today.  Seriously.  There I was, at a red light, on my way to Chipotle, singing VERY animatedly along with Neil Diamond, and I glance to my left, to see two guys in their late teens/early 20s waving and grinning and giving me the thumbs-up sign.  Heeee!  I waved back.  It was awesome.  Do not underestimate the sexiness of the white Chrysler mini-van.

For all of you who have e-mailed/called/text-messaged/IM’ed me inquiring after J.T.- he’s fine.  He called today and everything in Baton Rouge is a-ok, other than the population boom and subsequent traffic they are currently experiencing.  The church where he works is housing some New Orleans defectors, and he was working with them today.  J.T. has electricity at his house, but no internet and very limited cell service.  He said to thank everyone for their thoughts and prayers, and let you all know he is doing great and has plenty to do to keep him busy. 

Meanwhile, I’m trying to not watch too much of the news.  The footage is so scary and real and SO close to home.  It’s devastating in every sense of the word.  I wish I could do something.  I’m going to go down to the food pantry with my step-dad and step-grandad to help pack boxes, but other than that I just feel really helpless up here with my full belly and refrigerator full of bottled water.

I doubt I (or anyone) will be visiting any time soon.  Already one of my three New Orleans shows has been postponed/moved.  I expect to be doing a lot of re-booking in the next few days, so I’ll keep you all posted on my schedule.  Hey, AVMG-ers, it looks like I may be shuffled to AHIMA, so hopefully I’ll see you in San Diego (unfortunately, the site of the Near-Death-Flu-of-2003; let’s all hope that I don’t have to stay at the Sheraton).

I just rented Sin City, Saved!, and the first, only, and complete season of Firefly, which I’m jazzed to watch before Serenity comes out.  And yet, I’m totally stuck watching episodes of LOST that I’ve already seen (and come out on DVD in exactly one week) so I can see the teasers for the new season.  *Super-Nerd sails by in red cape*

G, you should get that movie quote!!! 

Again, pirated from Kiddo, the Which Classic Dame Are You? Quiz!!  Turns out, I am:

Men, there’s also a Which Classic Leading Man are You? Quiz.  Do tell!!  I’m going to go ahead and give Scotty the Humphrey Bogart nod.  Ryan?  All Jimmy Stewart.  Go.

• music: Iron & Wine
• mood: pensive

Did you guys ever see the titular Saturday Night Live skit?  With Jimmy Fallon and Justin Timberlake playing the Bee Gees? (Thanks Tom.)  It was hi-lar-ious.

Anyway, I’m home again.  And ibym home… Nowhere, OH, where we get 28K dial-up service.  I told my friend Gina today that I was thankful that I am the kind of person who can find beauty in a soybean field as well as the Chrysler Building.  I’m thankful that even though I hate (HATE) being here, I know it’s only temporary and that things will change when I am ready for them to.  I’m thankful that I love books, movies, and crossword puzzles, since that’s all there is to do out here.  And I’m thankful that I am grown-up enough to act like a grown-up around my mother. 

I wonder what part of parenting spawns independent children?  I know people who go to their parents’ when they need some time off from their real life, or when they need comforting.  I honestly would rather chew my arm off than let my mother know that I wasn’t happy and strong and in complete control of every situation.  What IS that?  I’m perfectly willing to break down in front of my friends, lie on the couch with my head in someone’s lap, cry on the phone, spend 4 hours on the back porch debating every detail of life, but I would rather die than relate any of that to my mom.  OR my dad.  Am I scared to disappoint them?  That they’ll think they didn’t do a good enough job on me?  I have no idea.  But I’ve always been this way, as long as I can remember.  I need a therapist.  Or a good ole internet quiz. 

Which segues me into the 3-Variable Humor Test, stolen from the respective blogs of 2 of my favorite Canadians, St. Genevieve and Kiddo.  MUCH more scientific than Jonathan’s Sunday night handwriting analysis based on what I wrote in Angela’s baby shower book (the "analysis," btw, was "intelligent, self-involved, and thinks about sex a lot."  Thanks, Jonathan.  Definitely more information than someone who had, I don’t know, talked to me for more than 30 seconds could’ve gleaned). 

You are: the Wit (72% dark, 17% spontaneous, 11% vulgar)
Your humor style: CLEAN COMPLEX DARK

You like things edgy, subtle, and smart. I guess that means you’re probably an intellectual, but don’t take that to mean pretentious. You realize ‘dumb’ can be witty–after all isn’t that the Simpsons’ philosophy?–but rudeness for its own sake, ‘gross-out’ humor and most other things found in a fraternity leave you totally flat.

I guess you just have a more cerebral approach than most. You have the perfect mindset for a joke writer or staff writer.

Your sense of humor takes the most thought to appreciate, but it’s also the best, in my opinion.

You probably loved the Office.

PEOPLE LIKE YOU: Jon Stewart & Woody Allen

Zah!!  I like it.  My favorite part is that on the 3-D grid, my exact opposite is the Idiot Savant.  *snort*

The other awesome thing I found on Gen’s blog was the Lifetime Movie Title Generator.  You throw in some details and boom! out comes a movie.  I got "A Disease Called Jamie," which made me laugh so hard I had a coughing fit and almost choked.  I could have DIED, people.  Which would have been a great Lifetime movie in and of itself.  The Funniest Thing She Ever Heard.

I’m gearing up for the fall TV season.  Which is going to be severely interrupted by my Crazy Fall American Tour, or C-FAT, as I am calling it.  C-FAT’s 3 New Orlean’s destinations will more than likely be changed or cancelled, but starting September 8, I have Minneapolis-San Diego-New Orleans-New Orleans-San Francisco-New Orleans-Denver-San Jose.  That brings me to November 4 and dealing seriously with moving out of my mom’s house.  I don’t know where yet, but Dallas is still the front runner.  If you would like me in a town near you, feel free to send flowers, donations, or potato chips.  The good ones.  *wink*

Love, Jamie

• Music: The Monkees (J.T.’s mix)
• Mood: tired and a touch grouchy

So, last night was big fun.  Danael got a parking ticket; Bill got me drunk.  OK, no, not really, about the 2nd part.  But Danael to-tally got a parking ticket.  But we did stay out too late and I am sooooo tired this morning.  It was totally worth it though; we had an awesome time. 

These exhibitors were all over me the second I waltzed in at 7:30a.  (Yeah, I waltzed, suckah!)  I couldn’t even get my laptop out of my backpack before they were lined up at my desk.  I looked pointedly at the "We will re-open at 8am" sign on my desk but apparently subtlety is lost on them.  In the immortal words of Leo McGarry, "these people make me crazy."

So, as some of you know, I have an informal list of "statements you will probably never hear again," which started last year in Atlanta after a crazy night at a tikki lounge, when my co-worker Sean said "Hey Jamie, I woke up with a big conch shell in my bed this morning," to which I answered, "ME TOO!"  The list (which really should be written down soon) continued with Evan’s and my overhearing a girl on the street in NYC saying "I mean, I don’t hate fruit, but…." and we could never figure out what could possibly come after that statement.  It then went on to Tom looking after "[my] laptop and [my] skin cancer."  ANYway, Dan and I passed a girl in the hallway yesterday afternoon, and she said, I kid you not, "we itched for the first seven years of our marriage."  Wha?  In the WHA?  I really kinda wanted to hide behind the VPPPA sign and hear the rest of that conversation, but as we all know, I would make a terrible spy. 

Well, it’s going to be a long day for me, and more likely than not, a BORING one, so ping me on IM, for the love of MIKE, if you’re around.  Looking forward to getting out of here by 8pm (*fingers crossed*) and having cocktails with Tori, Melissa, and Carrie Niemiste.  My girls!!  Can’t wait to see them.  Thankfully I get to sleep in tomorrow, and then spend the day with my darling Dad (…Dad, Dad, Daddy-O, name that film!).   

Love, J.

I’m going to start titling my blog entries in movie quotes and song lyrics, so get ready to play the guessing game.  This one’s for Bill.

• Mood: damp-eyed
• Music: Come On, Eileen- Save Ferris

…which prompts me to, again, giggle at last night’s interaction: "What was her name?" "Um, Ellen.  Helen?  No, Eileen.  Oh, ELAINE!"  *snort*  You girls are hilarious.

I just had lunch with the most Scottie of all Scotts, and I must admit, was seeing a little blurry when he left.  You guys!!  I miss you all so much!  We waxed philosophic over sushi and I haven’t had such a lovely time since… well, last night, actually.  *grin*

Tonight I’m meeting Danael for coffee and Bill for Mexican food, and I. cannot. wait. 

I’d like to get some interaction going here… the downfall of writing therapeutically is no feedback.  I doubt I’d stop writing, either way, but it not only helps me to write it out, but it also helps me to hear back from those closest to me.  (I guess strangers could write in, too, but for some reason I highly doubt that anyone who doesn’t know me is remotely interested in what I have to say here or anywhere).  If you’re uncomfortable posting, send me an e-mail.  I’m at an unsettling place in my life and I need all the support I can get.  You guys are my ties; you keep me from floating away.  Gina wrote a lovely and heartfelt post about women having it all a few days ago, and I truly appreciate it, G. I know you believe in therapeutic writing.  I’m counting on your belief system.  *wink*

I think I have to go watch the Harry Potter trailer again.  *sigh*

Oh!  Evan, click here.  Bill sent me that and you’ll love it.  The rest of you will, too, but especially Evan.  (Sandy, I said that last sentence in the Sam the (Muppet) Eagle voice, "This is a patriotic program honoring all countries, but especially America!")

Ciao, bellisimas.  ~J.

The new Harry Potter trailer is up!  SQUEEE!

I just wrote a lovely, long post, complete with hyperlinks, references, and even an ibym… and then when I went to post, got a friendster error.  *sobs*  Damn you Lord Voldemort!!  *shakes fist at sky*

It’s nice being at "home," even though I’m working.  Familiar territory!  Decent radio stations!! Friends to hang out with!!!  I’m experiencing a sensation althogether new to me, and frankly, I like it!  Name that film! 

Day two of trying out my new life mantra of being a human do-ing instead of a human be-ing (TM Scottie-San) and I gotta say, I’m tired. Last night instead of staying in and ordering room service, I did the NYT crossword puzzle (yeah, Sunday’s, so ibym "did"…. "started"), went to eat with my co-worker Jill at the Tom-Tom Noodle House in the West Village, met my cousin Ju-Ju for "Broken Flowers" with Bill Murray (which is good but no Lost in Translation, in case you were wondering.  Ree-an and I want to know when our boy Bill is going to start making funny movies again?), had gelato (I’m obsessed with the new Amaretto Chocolate Chip; I’ve had it twice this week) and then watched an episode off my newly acquired Sex & the City Season 6, Part 2 box set. (Thanks, Amy!)  It was a nice evening, although I was feeling it this morning. 

I’m rocking my first show on my own, by the way.  Well, either I’m rocking it, or I’m completely spacing out on something major I have to do.  *wink*  Who wants to bring me lunch?  Scottie is taking the tomorrow shift.  :)  I can’t wait for Angel’s 30th birthday party tonight! 

Hugs and Puppies!!  ~J.

I’m in Dallas now.  Last night the gang went to dinner and I had the most wonderful evening… My truly amazing friends made it such a special night- so, thank you, Madison, Dave, Amy, Julia, Angela, Jonathan, Ryan, Taylor, Scott, Kathryn, and Carrie for making it such a special time.  I wish I could give you Beethoven’s Mass in C Major.  Or Van Gogh’s Starry Night.  Or this beautiful moon.  Or something besides the words thank you. 

A couple of weeks ago I watched a documentary by Rosanna Arquette about women in Hollywood called "Searching for Debra Winger."  A lot of it was self-serving, but listening to some of those amazingly talented women talk about how to "have it all" was really moving.  It seemed to me that the non-American women were much more intuitive about the parts of life that truly MATTER: Charlotte Rampling, Vanessa Redgrave, Emmanuelle Beart.  Salma Hayek expounded on how the only way for a woman to have it all was to be able to juggle.  Her career, her hobbies, her passions, her relationships, her alone time.  If ANY one of them starts outweighing the others, all balance is thrown off and everything suffers.  The next week I read an article in Vogue about Jane Goodall (right behind an article on ARM lifts, of all things) - what a beautiful, strong, passionate woman!  Someone’s aptitude for a LIFETIME passion is always enigmatic to me.  I feel as though my interests change with the wind.  To truly spend your entire life focused on one thing is such a romantic notion.  Last week I watched almost the entire 4th season of The West Wing, and although fiction, I always marvel at the amount of time those people spend at the office (and I can’t imagine that it’s that far from the truth).  Their "night off" is spent playing poker in the office.  They eat three meals a day at the office.  They believe in what they are doing so much that it is their work time, play time, night time, and day time. 

I believe that one is responsible for filling up one’s own life… and has no right to complain when it is empty.  Our generation is especially guilty of laziness, when the truth is that my life could be as full and busy as I want it to be if I’d just get off my duff and live it.  I have passions and hobbies and friends and talents and it sickens me to think that sometimes I get bored and take what I have for granted.  It is MY responsibility to live my life to the fullest.  It is my responsiblity to read all the books I can, and spend time listening to my niece, and volunteer for those less fortunate than I.  It is my responsiblity to learn how to make a pie crust from scratch, and visit places I have never been, and take walks, and listen to good music, and at least one time in my life, finish the New York Times’ Sunday crossword puzzle.  I am not the first person to discover this mantra; obviously many have been here before me, not the least of which is Sir Henry David Thoreau, who said it much more poetically than I (I’m not looking it up now but it’s something about living deep and sucking all the marrow out of life.  Thank you, Dead Poet’s Society).  But I think it’s an ongoing physical action.  Something you must choose every day.  And I intend to choose it. 

Thank you to all of you who make my life beautiful.  I hope I contribute to yours as much as you contribute to mine. 

Just because I think that’s one of the funniest lines in TV history. 

I’ve had such a great, laid-back weekend.  Yesterday I went into the city alone, did some walking, did some birthday shopping (not for ME; for all those I missed), met my friend Tom for a day at the MoMa, a diner in SoHo, and one of my favorite bars in the City, Chumley’s.  Chumley’s used to be a speakeasy in the prohibition days; there’s no sign, just a door at 86 Bedford (and coincidentally, the origination of the term "86").  It’s got a dusty floor, wooden booths, and is wallpapered in book jackets from the authors that used to hang out there (Kerouac, Fitzgerald, etc).  There were actually two huge dogs lying on the floor in the bar, which I love, and they always play the best music- usually a mixture of oldies, Broadway soundtracks, and vocal jazz.  Last night they even played Brian Wilson’s SMiLE, which impressed me greatly.  We had a great time talking about films, and politics, and religion, and love, and life… it was such an awesome day.  We even squeezed in a walk down the Hudson on the way back to the train.

I’m spending today with Evan.  Not sure will the day will lead us, but it’s starting soon with brunch at Marco & Pepe (and a cup of coffee the size of my head), so I’d better hop to it.  Love, Jamie

My first night back in NYC was great.  The Blonde couldn’t make dinner due to an unfortunate food poisoning attack, but The Brunette and I had a great time.  We went to Cuba for dinner (yes, Scotticus, we had empenadas and they were ace-high; I also had some fan-freaking-tastic skirt steak marinated in garlic and lime and sauteed onions, and black beans and rice), then for a stroll through Washington Square Park, and then to The Fat Black Pussycat for some awesome 80’s music and the ubiquitous Cosmopolitan.  It was great.  Tonya had to get up at 4am for a 6:30 flight, so without a doubt the lowest part of my trip has already happened, and that, my friends, is being awakened a mere 3 hours after going to sleep and being forced to listen to VH1 Country for an hour. 

Speaking of fat cats, Tonya’s roommate Julianna has a cat tragically misnamed Pico.  Pico is roughly the size of my 6-year old niece.  Pico can peer directly into your soul.  Seriously, she frightens me.  Everytime I round a corner, there she is, green eyes piercing into me, and I actually feel guilty.  For what, I don’t know, but I always feel like she caught me doing something I shouldn’t be doing.  Currently I’m shut in T’s room, the only Pico-free zone in the apartment, but I can feel her eyes boring through the door.  She’s just waiting on the other side of the door, taking up the majority of the hallway.  *shudders*

I need to go actually do a report for work, bummer, and then shower and head into the city.  I’m going to the MoMa and to dinner with my friend Tom.  I may hit the Park first.   XOXOX