I laugh about everything for fear of crying.

• music: Hey, Hey We’re the 60s, British Invasion on iTunes radio (currently, Rolling Stones)
• mood: tired, but feeling… accomplished.  What’s that they say about a "hard day’s work"?  Seems like I heard something once, briefly.

So, there are many, many phi-lost-ophies racing down the information super-highway regarding my singular obsession, LOST.  I’ve gone to the bad side. 

Have you ever turned on the radio with express hope of hearing a particular song?  I do it all the time.  Unfortunately, as my favorite genre spans at least 3 decades, it’s always an exponentially smaller chance.  Today?  I’m not kidding, less than an hour.  "My Sweet Lord," by George Harrison.  Score!  However, my happiness was soon deflated by the ever-frustrating fact that iTunes is sorely lacking in music selections outside the current pop realm.  Why on earth wouldn’t they have George Harrison?  WHY?  They do have 2 cover tracks of it though. *shakes head*  No Pink Martini (except one track that was on the soundtrack of Mr. & Mrs. Smith).  Only one Amanda Ghost album, and it’s not the one I’m looking for.  "I don’t care what they say; I won’t live in a world without love" by Bobby Rydell?  Nada.  Only one Billy J. Kramer song, and it’s on an oldies anthology.  Ugh.

So, it’s taken me like 3 hours to write this post (stupid job, getting in the way of my blogging) and in this time period, "My Sweet Lord" came on again.  Weird.

These are freaking hilarious (here’s a better view).  My shoddy French translation of the bottom left one says something to the tune of "you don’t have to be crazy to live here, but it helps."  Score another for the rapier wit of TwoP!!

If you haven’t heard about the titular (*snort*) theory, just google it.  It makes me tired.

• watching- The West Wing, Season 3, "Dead Irish Writers"
• mood- rocking it as Allison Janney does an evening gown

I woke up at 7am when the electricity went out, came back on, and went out again, within about 3 minutes, and as I had left my computer on, it beeped at me to signal its switching its power source each time.  Disgruntled, I got up to turn it off, and then my mom comes in (about as welcome as she was on a school morning in junior high) to INFORM me that the electricity went out.  I’m all "thanks Mom.  Go away."  I woke up again at 11, STILL no electricity.  Lovely Rita, go away.  My entire day was to consist of recorded television and laundry, neither of which is an option without electricity.  I made a cup of coffee with the camp stove and a french press, brushed my teeth with bottled water, did a crossword puzzle by the window, and felt sorry for the southern half of the United States, as they undoubtably are faring worse than Ohio.

Twelve hours, 8 tv shows, 4 loads of laundry, and 2 bourbons later, here I sit.  CJ Cregg, Abby Bartlett, Donna Moss, and Amy Gardner (R.I.P., and good riddance) are getting drunk on my television set and I have to be be out the door in 12 hours for my next job.  I haven’t read the 8 magazines that are sitting in my pile of mail.  I haven’t even read the mail.  I haven’t finished the report that was due 2 days ago.  I haven’t packed a thing.  In fact, there’s really nothing I’d rather be doing right now than exactly what I’m doing, which is sitting on my bed, watching the West Wing, finishing a crossword puzzle, and not thinking about work.  So here I sit.  Bite me, responsibility.

And I want to say that my favorite quote of all the TV I watched today was this:

"I don’t have a son [narrator: he does] but one day, when I do, I will either tell him we have a cabin in the woods and take him there or I will tell him we have a cabin in the woods and not take him there but the one thing I will absolutely never do is not tell him we have a cabin in the woods and then not take him there."  ~G.O.B., Arrested Development  Taste the sadness!  Man, I love that show.

**WARNING** LOST SEASON PREMIERE SPOILERS AHEAD.

• music- watching a MASH re-run
• mood- awake

OK, so, who saw LOST tonight?  I’m so bummed we didn’t see anything dealing with the raft people.  The scene where Shannon sees Walt was deliciously creepy.  Best part of the episode.  Desmond in the hatch?  Come ON.  How old were those flashbacks with Jack in the Charlie Salinger wig supposed to be exactly?  Because the guy in the hatch?  Might as well have been Adam Webber.  The lava lamp?  The 70s music?  The Wang?  No WAY did he get there on his "race around the world."  Is he an alien?  I’m so confused.  They saw the "quarantine" and decided the best course of action was to all go back to camp?  What, and take the virus with them?  The hell?  And isn’t it daylight in 3 hours?  They needed to go down right then in the dark?  John Locke is batsh*t crazy.  Kate is just an idiot.  I’m totally sucked in.  Is it next Wednesday yet?

• music: halfway listening to The West Wing that’s on in the other room
• mood: pensive

I have a ton of work to do, and it’s noon, and I’m lying in bed in my pj’s drinking a cup of coffee.  (Seriously, wi-fi?  One of the great inventions of my lifetime.  Right up there with my iPod and all-day lipstick.)  I feel like if I showered and moved to the desk I might be more productive, but I’m just not feeling it.  *yawn*

It’s recently come to my attention that I’m a total sucker for songs that have a big group of people singing and clapping in the background.  Like everyone in the studio had to spontaneously join in because the music was so awesome.  The Kum-Ba-Ya effect.  I discovered it when I fell in love with a little ditty called "Ghetto is a Part of My Religion" by R. Kelly and Wylcef Jean.  I’m not usually a big R&B fan, so I wondered what drew me to it so, and I decided it was the singing and clapping.  This love of mine goes all the way back to "We are the World" and includes songs like "Barbara Ann," by the Beach Boys, "Friends in Low Places," by Garth Brooks, and "With Arms Outstretched" by Rilo Kiley. 

Others?

• music: Cannonball, The Breeders
• mood: fantastic… and anticipatory of my next meal.

I asked a friend the other day if he thought I put too much importance on food, and he answered "is that even possible?"  To which I throw a hearty (and heartfelt) ZAH.  Y’wanna know one of my favorite things about Southern California?  How they put anything and everything into a flour tortilla.  Eggs and bacon, fish, thai food… you name it, someone’s selling it in a tortilla.  I like the simple things.  One of them is a garlicky shrimp burrito from Tin Fish in San Diego.  It’s got these awesome, fresh, garlicky shrimp, cheddar cheese, salsa, coleslaw, and tomatoes, and it’s all wrapped up in, you guessed it, a flour tortilla.  It’s heaven.  Burrito-style.

So, tonight, I’m meeting one of my all-time favorite people on the planet… EVER.  More about her later; tonight we’re going for Spanish tapas, and if memory serves me correctly (as it only does when food is involved), they have a cheese and olive plate that is to die for.  (ohmigah; someday I will write an entire post on cheese and olives.)  There will be a menu update tomorrow.  What’s better than tapas?  Tapas allow you to experience all manner of palatable feats of wonder.  In one sitting.  *sigh*  There’s a reason history and literature so oft pair food and sex.  I’m just saying.

sidebar: J.T. always makes fun of me, saying that "I’m just saying" actually doesn’t mean anything at all.  But that’s not true.  My friend Keith and I determined that if one were to translate the Constitution into ebonics, the first amendment would read "I’m just saying." 

Good morning from the west coast, on 4 hours of sleep.

• music: none
• mood: to soon to tell

This hotel friggin’ rocks.  I am becoming more and more fond of boutique hotels as opposed to big chains.  They don’t have quite as many amenities, but so much more personality.  Damn the man!  Save the Empire!!  Anyway, it’s small and it’s darling, and the hallways are painted bright primary yellow and blue, and there’s no central AC, and my favorite Kandinsky print is hanging on the wall, and there’s free hi-speed access.  It’s adorable.

I’m trying to finish up my coffee before my 18-hour day starts.  Hope everyone has a fabulous Thursday.  Counting down the days until I can sleep in.  That’s Monday, if anyone cares.  I just have to get to Monday!  Love, J.

Does anyone else think it’s weird that on the walk to work this morning, I was listening to my random & varied 250+ song playlist, and right in a row, I heard "Michelle" by the Beatles, "La Vie en Rose" by Marlene Deitrich, and "Tout Doucement" by Blossom Dearie??  Those are probably the only three songs in the whole list that are sung in French… I mean, yeah, I know that "Michelle" is only partly in French, but what are the odds of them landing right next to each other in a randomized playlist?  Somebody do the math for me; I’m too tired.

• music: Things Have Changed, Bob Dylan (Hey Re-ann, could you do your Dylan impression?  It doesn’t matter if you don’t know the lyrics.)
• mood: exhausted, happy

So, I went to Manny’s last night.  According to the Zagat, one of the Top Five Steakhouses in the COUNTRY.  A cool $840 for 7 people, and that was with the first round of drinks being paid for separately at the bar (and the only one I had).  Six salads, 7 steaks, 4 side dishes, 3 desserts, and 2 bottles of wine.  $840!!  And can I just say?  Not the best steak I’ve ever had.  Not in the top five steaks I’ve ever had.  The hell?  My edges of my medium-rare steak were DRY.  My caesar was salty.  My pecan pie was rock-hard.  I can’t describe to you the disappointment.

Anyway, I’d better finish up my work here and go back to the hotel to pack.  Flying out this afternoon.  Am working in San Diego tomorrow, Friday, and Saturday, and am expecting extremely long hours.  Wheee!  See you on the flip side.  Love, J.

I got caught in a deluge tonight.  I’m talking completely soaked in an 8-block walk home from the restaurant.  The temperature dropped about 20 degrees, the wind came out of nowhere and was so strong it almost knocked me down, and the rain was sweeping down the street in sheets.  There’s something romantic, in the literary sense, of being caught in a rainstorm… (and between you and me, I’ve always had a fantasy about kissing in the rain.  Must be a Breakfast at Tiffany’s thing, which is weird, since I’m not overly fond of that movie in general) and the rain was so cold when the temperature hadn’t been that it was quite exhilarating.  Needless to say it most definitely wasn’t FUN, but it was a cool experience.  Peeling off the dripping khakis was not. 

• music: the thunderstorm
• mood: about three-quarters the way to the very end of the rope

I’m racing through LOST at a rapid pace… a task made infinitely easier by my dueling laptops in the storeroom– one working on a massive excel spreadsheet and the other playing DVDs.  Remember when Claire was cool, before she got reduced to mere screaming drivel?  I’m really not so sure that I like her with Charlie.  I am loving Shannon and Sayid together.  Kate gets on my nerves but I do like her better with Sawyer than with Jack; they have much better chemistry.  And speaking of Jack, I am falling in love with brown eyes all over again.  I’ve always had a thing for the super-short hair and any amount of facial scruff, but those EYES!!  YOWZA.  Trying to get the full season watched before I leave the midwest, since I’m going to be working ridiculous hours in San Diego this weekend and the season premiere is next week.

In fact, I think I’ll go watch another right now.  *grin*  Love, J.

The quote-off over at J.T.’s blog got me all kinda in the West Wing mood.  The titular quote makes me giggle every time I hear it (so does the word "titular," but that’s another story).  It’s from when POTUS was complaining about all the typos on the teleprompter: "We’re spelling hallowed with a pound sign in the middle now?  Is the pound sign silent?"  Heee.

• music: none.  watching LOST on the laptop and the Chiefs/Jets game on the TV, talking to exhibitors, and listening to/monitoring chatter on two walkie-talkies. 
• mood: hongry!

Oh, to be able to bottle a cheery mood.  You know, some days aren’t any different than others, nothing especially good happens, you just feel right.  Happy, calm and in control about the uncertainty of the future, laughing, energetic.  What makes this feeling?  How does one keep it?  (Other than drugs.)  *shrug*  I guess I wouldn’t notice the cheerfulness if I was always cheerful.  All that blather to say that, for no particular reason, today’s a good day.

I went out with old friends last night and had a really really great time, but I gotta say… I can’t drink like I used to.  I was hurting this morning.  I don’t know if it’s because my tolerance is lowered because I’ve just been drinking less lately, or I’m just getting old, but dude.  No more of that.  *shudders*  Seriously. 

I’ve been watching LOST all day.  Don’t get too comfortable there, Boone.  I forgot how much I miss Hurley’s cd player, because we used to always get that scene at end where he listened to music and everyone was nice to each other in slow-motion.  Someone I know coined that scene "the romp."  I don’t remember who it was, but if it was you, dear reader, kudos, because I still giggle every time I think of it. 

I found a Middle Eastern restaurant down the street and I’m so pumped.  I haven’t had a falafel since I left New Jersey.  And you know how I feel about falafel.  *wink*

Love, J.