Nothing Clever, Heavy Weather

How goes it, my sweet daffodils? Another glorious day here in New England. A mite on the cold side, although not enough to harden your nipples, freeze off your vitals, or in any way, shape, or form chill thy blood. Still, a close friend of mine fled New England ONLY due to the weather and is now living happily in Houston, where summer is apparently a perpetual state and the accents are probably long and broad. Instead of clipped and narrow! Long and broad and friendly, clipped and narrow and suspicious! Kinda the way southerners view themselves and northerners, no doubt! Or something like that -- I'm too tired to milk all the urgent ramifications.

Yes, everything is urgent for this person these days. I am happy to report I am Close To Leaving Without Benefit Of A Psychotic Break the landlady's house, though still bookless, depressed, and mired in my approximately one billion unresolved issues. Hey, it's no different than a day on The View! I was happy to hear Rosie O'Donnell was returning to network TV to co-host the show despite all the bad press she's received. At the very least she's never dull and always speaks her mind, which is more than Ryan Seacrest can say, for example. I saw him once on an old episode of Blind Date and was so appalled by how he treated his date that seeing him now on American Idol makes me cringe. Don't sue me for slander, Rye Baby -- you know it's true!

I should start the All-Celebrity Weather Channel -- we give you the forecast on both! Hey, it's a thought. Better than the naked news, although I'm sure there's a fraternity guy Tivo'ing that program at this very moment. Amazing how such simple concepts net people millions thanks to simple biology! Men are so easily manipulated by mammary glands -- it's amazing if you think about it!

Which I rarely do. At present I prefer men to be in the shape of Remote Television Hosts, or characters in books, like Mr. Rochester. There will never ever be a man like Mr. Rochester. Not in the flesh, anyway, alas. Ya gotta wonder what the Brontes were drinking up there on them moors. That's another miracle.

I actually had my Psychotic Break when I ran away to LA (for those laboring under the delusion I was normal -- I'm half-way to crackers and you shoulda picked up on that by now) without a job or place to stay. I had excellent reasons for this that only The Therapist Knows (kinda like the shadow, but probably more soothing), but returned a Broken Woman. Months of therapy later, I am still Broken, but you know, I will rise again, like the phoenix from the flame, maybe even without an added bad habit. Yeah, like heroin or a penchant for spraypainting buildings. I am actually doing very well all things considered, but the road has been long and hard, and some things are still complete shit.

All Things Considered! NPR! Sometimes listening to that is like the sonic equivalent of taking valium. SNL got the parody of that fine show right! They also had Alec Baldwin partake of the skit, and I am a sucker for those Baldwin Baby Blues. Sigh. If only.

I will leave you now with a great quote by our former VP Dan Quayle: "Potatoe!" "Potatoe!"

I don't know why, do you?

Happy day.