subject: saw you on M&J
body: so dunb [sic] it hurts. please stop speaking in public.
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My thoughts: It’s funny because I’m insecure about a lot of things but whether I’m “dunb” or not isn’t one of them. In fact, it’s so much not one of them that I almost think it’s plucky and perhaps splashy and maybe a little zany if I’m coming across that way on TV. Sometimes I wish I could be dunb! A dunb person would have a couch already, you know? Because imgnorance is bliss.
I did, it’s true, I couldn’t help it. I mean, I could have. I could easily not have put down a paper towel on the floor of my shower and gone to town on these pale dogs here but—wait, am I the kind of person who refers to my fluorescent feet as “pale dogs”? I don’t think so—but anyway, I could have easily not, it’s true. However I fear a swath of translucent foot may appear onscreen tomorrow and I don’t want to be accidentally sending Morse code. At the same time I don’t want to look like someone shoved two carrots out the ends of my pant legs, even though that would be kind of harvesty and seasonally appropriate. If this spray tan experiment goes horribly awry that’s what I’m going to say: “Hello, I’m here to talk about politics and entertainment. I dyed my feet pumpkin orange for the occasion. Boo!” Although now it occurs to me that I could just have said my feet were dressed as ghosts and that’s why they’re so white and “boo!” Dammit!
I was doing a segment a couple weeks ago and I didn’t think I needed the teleprompter because I had memorized what I was going to say (it wasn’t a conversational thing, it was something where I needed to stick to the script and say the lines in a certain amount of time) and so I asked if I could try it first without the teleprompter. In general, I think producers prefer is you use a teleprompter because it’s easier for them to follow along and time things out. So anyway, I tried it and messed up and then admitted that I needed the teleprompter and as I was doing it I had this weird sense of resignation/defeat in a science fiction way, I think because I was trading a certain amount of autonomy for efficiency.
Using a teleprompter well is a skill though, sort of like being able to see the image in those 3-D posters. You have to be able to read without looking like you’re reading. Actually, I’d say it’s the second part of a two part skill set. The first is to be able to talk to the camera as if the camera is a person, because if you talk to the camera as if it’s a camera, you get this weird creeped out look on your face and it’s uncomfortable all around. I think I’ve mastered that as I can talk to any inanimate object. Sometimes they talk back.
So back to the teleprompter though, I think you can easily begin to depend on it, or … you know what? This whole thing is a long roundabout way of saying that my blackberry is messed up right now and I can’t receive email on it and even though I am sitting at the computer, where I can receive email, I still feel deeply unsettled and can’t think straight till this is resolved. And I had many metaphors and twists and turns and ways of getting from the teleprompter to the blackberry perhaps stopping off to discuss dialysis and this whole thing was heading in cyborgian science fictiony direction but I have no time for florid language or fancy theory or even metaphors because Tasha at Verizon is supposed to call me back.
…not in this place (Australia), but in this photo.
I saw this photo on Desire to Inspire, which I found through some other site through some other site which had something or other to do with couches. “Oh, you’re being all neurotic about it,” said my friend matter-of-factly last night when I explained how I go from store to store and back again, sitting and resitting, but not getting anywhere. I’m bottoming out, people. I’m more confused than when I began. Do I want a couch or a womb? I began tearing up on a Bayside Swivel Glider ($999) at Crate & Barrel tonight. And by tearing up I mean crying. I realize I’ve never been less attractive to you than right now. That’s why I’m moving to Australia.
So I got this email from Skippy from Family Ties the other day, although he didn’t identify himself that way, he called himself Marc Price, which is his name, and he’s involved with ijoke.come which is a website and he suggested I put my stuff on there so I can expose myself to the comedy world. I’m not taking my clothes off for you or your no good friends I screamed, grabbing objects from my desk and throwing them in the direction of Ohio, which is where the Keatons lived and therefore where the Handelmans also lived. What did I grab? A remote control, a coffee cup, a box of mechanical pencils, and tape recorder, a can of Raid, a Winnie the Pooh notebook which was a gift and which I’ve had for about 8 years because I remember mentioning it in a column 8 years ago and mentioning that it was a gift, and… um… a magic 8-ball. My desk is messy.
But then I uploaded my video and right now it’s featured on the site so go there now and rate it, I guess? I’m still not quite sure how this works but all this exposing myself is liberating! And drafty!
Is it that there’s not enough me on it? I think that’s it. No really, I’m pretty sure of it. In fact, I don’t even know why you’re watching it right now. If I were you, I’d just put plants on it.
But I think I’ll be on the Morning Show with Mike and Juliet on Monday, which is awesome… for you.
In other news I bought a lint roller that smells like Bounce! I’ve never been so excited to remove lint from my garments! I almost want to get a cat just so I have more to pick up!
Not really. I wouldn’t go that far.
I think you do. These are the birthday cards my mom received from her favorite daughter and my sister.
In other news I’m ass high in the midst of couch shopping. Well, let me back up. So last night I’m reading my vampire book and I get an email from one Bill Schulz cajoling me into coming into the Activity Pit chatroom and I did and it was fun but it was pointed out to me that I haven’t been blogging as much lately and it must be because I’m busy. Yeah, busy sitting on couches. Imagine couches are braille and my butt is blind.
But see, there is something frivolous about the couch decision and so perhaps I haven’t wanted to admit how much of my energy and time is being taken up by it because I like to think I’m a person of substance. In this case, polyester foam with down ticking.
So I’ve narrowed it down to two models, and I will post those pictures, but first I want to say that now that I’m all couch aware–to the point that I know that Room & Board’s Kendall is basically Crate & Barrel’s Huntley Woods with different pillows, which is to say I can see the frame beneath the fluff, I’m again having a thought that I’ve had periodically over the years which is that the human face comes in a limited number of models and you just see the same face over and over again on different people with slight variation. Do you know what I mean? My thoughts are very mushy and marshmallowy and kind of dumb right now. It’s because I have two whole couches in there and the left arm facing sectional.
Do I want this couch?
Or this one?
Now that I’ve been NY’s Funniest Reporter for a whole week, you are likely wondering how my life has changed. Well for one thing, I now sleep on a queen size whoopie cushion and whenever I knock at someone’s door, they say “who’s there??” expectantly and then seem kind of disappointed when it’s just me. I won’t get into the frenzy that results from my crossing the road and all the questions about my motivation in doing so. The laugh track that follows me around took a little time to get used to, especially since it seems to activate at the strangest times, like when I’m not even trying to be funny. Banana peels appear underfoot out of nowhere and all my sunglasses have fake noses attached to them. Similarly my hats have been replaced by arrows and last night I got sick and puked rubber vomit.
Last night I did something I never do—talked to strangers on the train. They started it! Twice!
It’s because I was reading the second book of the Twilight series. Vampire books for 13 year olds with loosely veiled Mormon themes? How could it not resonate with me, when you think about it.
My train friends also are concerned about the movie and the casting of Edward. One of my train friends was on the fourth and final book and she started reading something else because she didn’t want to finish and have no more books to read. She has more restraint than I do, sort of how Edward has more restraint than say, Jasper.
If you want to meet people, read the Twilight series on the train! If you want to read the Twilight series on the train? Take a cab.