Yes, I became a fan of myself. Here is the thing though, I actually did it because I’m trying to figure out how to easily post video to my various pages. I have my regular Facebook page and then I have my public “celebrity” page which I’m now a fan of and then I have the Facebook fan group. When I go to the fan group page and want to add video I can easily select videos I’ve already uploaded to my regular Facebook page, thus cutting down on the hours long uploading process. When I go to my public “celeb” page though I don’t have that option, I can only upload or record new video. Hence I thought perhaps becoming a fan would allow me to post video as a fan. Wait! Maybe I didn’t ok fan uploads. Hm.
Q&A vlog, Feb 17
The purse I mentioned on Twitter
So I mentioned on Twitter that I’d fallen in love with a purse I can’t afford and then everyone was like “what purse? picture?” but I didn’t want to take a photo at Bloomingdales because I’m pretty sure they’ll take you out back and shoot you for doing so and considering my already high profile, that’s really the last thing I need.
How high is my profile? Oh my god you guys, I can barely move about unmolested by the prying eyes of my public. Prying, molesting eyes. Usually the left pries while the right molests. If I happen to catch them in a mirror then it’s reversed. I think. Wait? Hm.
Anyway, here’s the purse:
It’s by L.A.M.B. Did you know that I wrote the first ever national cover story about No Doubt? I did. Be impressed. It doesn’t get my free purses though. But Gwen hugged me at the VMA’s in 1998 and thanked me. It’s like, say it with purses, Gwen. [note: I am JOKING.]
Ooh, look, it also comes in this color.
War on un-cute
Need an injection of cuteness in your day? I think you do. The awesome Joe McDonald sent in these pics. Apparently a fawn followed a beagle through a family’s doggie door in Bitinger, MD and it made the local news. It also made this blog, which is pretty prestigious.
Anyway, it’s all fun and games until the fawn attacks a family friend and you have to stab it to death.
Turn that smile upside down
This story is all kinds of sad and for some reason it’s the fact that Travis went to die in his sleeping quarters that’s really getting me. Also the butcher knife thing. Wouldn’t you keep a taser or something on hand for these situations? Or maybe this is just so unheard of. Regardless I’m glad I never had to deal with anything like this with Fred The Jade Plant.
TV Reviews of TV Shows We Haven't Seen: LOST
This is where I get OCD about this
But I’m not loving the newly reordered sidebar on the right. I wasn’t loving it before either though. I remember watching my friend paint some wooden shutter door things which enclosed a little phone alcove and then smash them with a hammer. I left him as the wood was really flying. Anyway, I’m not going to take a hammer to the sidebar but anyone have any input about how it should be? There’s this whole above the fold and below the fold thing I’m thinking about. I’m actually thinking of folding my computer screen up origami style, but that comes later.
New Red Eye dates posted
New Red Eye dates posted in the upcoming appearances section. Where is that, you ask? Ok, warmer, you’re warmer, you’re… colder. Brr, freezing! I’ve got hypothermia over here. I’m getting so sleepy.
Oh wait, I’m thawing out, ok I have feeling back in my toes, ok warmer, warmer, hot! You are hot! Burning up! Nearly vaporized!
(that’s what I would be saying if you looked over on the right sidebar and then scrolled down)
It's as if this was the pilot for "If I Drew Cartoons for The New Yorker"
If you’ve known me for any considerable period of time then you can attest to the way your life has been quite improved from the constant and steady influx of me, me, me. Wait, that wasn’t what I was intending to say.
Also, if you know me then you’re familiar with my recurring “If I Drew Cartoons for The New Yorker” which I do on Red Eye and also this blog.
While admiring the me of years ago on my old Myspace blog I found what I think was the first ever cartoon. I hired a team of archaeologists to dig it out of the tar. It’s a pretty big find for our team and I beg of you, please mind the railing.
Dec 20, 2006
SUBJECT: If I were a cartoonist
I would draw a picture of a CIA operative, or some kind of person who very clearly has a mysterious job, a kind of job where the mystery is necessary, and he would be drinking and confiding in a friend saying “I just feel like she has no idea what I do all day.” No idea might be ital’d.
It would be very funny, but not the kind of funny that causes people to laugh out loud, but instead the kind that causes them to smile and maybe chuckle very quietly to themselves, like when you see a snail falling in love with a tape dispenser.
I don’t mean to suggest my imaginary cartoon is as funny as the above, or that it’s New Yorker worthy, but… but… um…. huh? Exactly.
My adolescent MySpace blog (of two years ago)
So I went delving into the annals of my old MySpace blog, which I kept warm in the lean years of this one which you are reading right this minute, because I was looking for a couple old lists I’d made of Things I Always Think Are Funny.
Whilst there though I came across the following overwrought bit of sad fluff which I’m reposting because it’s just so…. ANGST! And also, the subject is “this is very livejournal” which is funny because that’s what I was thinking as I was reading it which actually isn’t funny but instead just shows that brains are machines and a certain stimulus nearly always kicks up the same response. I’ll notice this if I ever listen to tapes of old interviews I did and even though years may have passed I’ll make a joke in my head, related to something the interviewee said, and then I’ll hear myself make the same joke on the tape. And then I’ll have a hearty laugh and toast myself. Anyway, behold the gothiness:
SUBJ: This is very livejournal
I think I must be mourning something, though I don’t quite know what, because suddenly the math of human connection seems, well it seems like math, like a page of equations, instead of something effortless. For some reason I am unable to be “in it” for any sustained period of time, and I’m not speaking solely about relationships. The last time I felt this was when I truly was in mourning 10 years ago. Not to get all French existentialist but I felt like a clown after that, like life was this weird charade/parade and I was stuck and nothing made sense and everything was tragic. That feeling abated in time, but I’m experiencing faint echoes again. Anyway, not to be all super deep and heavy but I’m transcribing an interview I did with Alan Ball and we’re talking about grief and it got me thinking.
Also, I’m not ruling out the idea that what I’m mourning is the cancellation of The O.C.