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The kind who wakes up at 1pm. I think I’m turning nocturnal. Like a hamster. Now today it’s not so bad because I’m doing Red Eye tonight and then at 2am I’m doing an interview on Joey Reynolds show on WOR talk radio about the funniest reporter competition. I just hope he doesn’t ask me to tell any jokes because it’s going to take an army to keep my from saying:

Heard the one about potato leek soup? It got everywhere!

I made that joke up, by the way. It’s both horrible and gourmet.

Anyway, what was I saying? Oh yeah, I have to stay up late so it’s not so bad that I’m getting up late but why, why is this happening? I feel I’m going to have to do something drastic like employ an alarm clock one of these days.

Also I’m reading the second book of the Twilight series now. I’m turning into a 13 year old. A nocturnal 13 year old.

UPDATE: We’re rescheduling the radio interview for next week. My creaky old body is kind of relieved.

I’m going to wash my face. I’m just going to do it. I’m going to take the plunge. Is there any reason I need to keep my achingly beautiful face looking achingly beautiful? Because I’m ready to be wearing less makeup. Except if I do that and then suddenly there is a reason where I should have kept it on, such as a party or “fun time” pops up out of nowhere I will be like DAMNIT, why did I wash all that pretty crud down the drain. And yes, of course I could put it back on, but I know myself and I wouldn’t, hence I’ll probably just stay home.

That’s kind of sad actually. The desire to not put on makeup is stronger than the desire to have a fun time.

Except so rarely are you assured a good time, you know? So often it’s just like “huh, I could see where that might be fun.”

Also I have a headache. It might be from holding my nose in the air to look down on all of you.

Oh get this: apparently I’m on taxi TV! There’s a segment about the funniest reporter show. Anyone see it? I only take helicopters so I wouldn’t know.

You know in school how you learn about the famous Nixon/Kennedy debate where Nixon lost to that MTV VJ Kennedy because he was all hot media and Kennedy was cold media and understood TV and something about the color of ties?

Well if McCain loses and they trace anything back to this debate I think they will point out that he looks like a little old man when he walks around and that he would have done much better to have stood still while making his points instead of doddering around all grandpa like. I mean, he looks like my grandfather, who is dead. Lest I have not made my point, what I’m trying to say is that when he walks around, it’s clear he is an old man. Granted, when I walk around it’s clear I am an old man, which is why were I to run for president I would make sure to be rolled around in a wheelchair so as to appear youthful. Like a youthful FDR. “There is nothing to fear but fear itself, pull my finger!” I will say, as they roll me by. I will say this while puffing on a pipe and inventing alphabet soup agencies. “Polio?” they will whisper as I go flying down a hill in my shoddy wheelchair.”But I thought polio was something from the past?” they will frown, as my wheelchair hits a divot and I am thrown into a tree. “Well, she’s an old soul,” someone will say, by way of explanation.

Am I mixing up my presidents? Well, you get the idea at least.

Waiting around, not knowing when my internet will leave me, unable to focus on anything because of the gnawing sensation, surprised and overjoyed when it’s here and then crushed when suddenly it’s gone. Wondering when it will return, if it will return… Am I dating the internet? I’m certainly getting fucked by it!

I’m sorry, I know you don’t like when I go blue however I had no choice.

Imagine if your beloved relative was lying in a hospital bed fading in and out of consciousness and you were trying to desperately squeeze all your questions about your past and family into the precious few lucid moments because when this person dies, there goes all that history and all those memories? Well imagine that instead of a relative, it’s your fucking internet connection that’s about to give up the ghost and every now and then it seems to actually be working and you’re like “wait wait! just give me my email! come back! just tell me the weather forecast! don’t go! I need to google mysel…. hello? NOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!! Fight, fight! I’m not ready to live without my internet connection!”

And then again it’s gone. I can’t take this emotional roller coaster.

Thankfully I already talked to the nutsacks at Time Warner though and I explained that I work from home and I’m losing business and they kindly let me know that this is for residential use. Do they think I’m selling rubber stamps online or something?

I shamelessly stole these from Mary Rambin’s blog.

Wendy and I have thrice updated our page so I hope you’re all up in that shit.

Also, tomorrow when I do stand up I’m going to “just have fun with it.”

And then I was thinking, is there really anything in life that you shouldn’t just have fun with?

And then I was thinking that I guess you shouldn’t just have fun with heart surgery.

Although I think the doctors on Grey’s Anatomy just have fun with most of their surgery, but that’s TV and not real life and plus they’re really shitty doctors, I know this because they left a towel in that one woman. Remember?

Oh and by the way now that I’m doing stand up I expect a whole bunch of hackneyed observations to start flowing out of me like, like, what’s a standuppy metaphor? Like herpes out of Paris Hilton, am I right?

I hope you’re as excited about this new turn of events as I am.

Okay then.

Oh, also: earlier I was at the Starbucks inside Barnes and Noble which is doubly offensive to Brooklyn since it’s all mom and pop around here but there I was, lining the coffers of Big Coffee Beans and Books and there was a pastry called something like “Flaky strawberry fruit purse” and I was thinking that it would be funny if it said “with real quarters baked inside.” But it didn’t say that, because it’s a pastry, not a comedian.

I just want to rip my skin off and throw it at the television. Also: what kind of hairspray does she use?

This site—Dear Old Love—is amusing, and it even made me feel some emotion which is kind of unusual these days since I think my heart is tucked away under a thick covering of protective frost. It’s not intentional, it’s not like I’m making sure my whole chest cavity is kept refrigerated lest I feel something, it’s more like it’s tough for me to feel certain things right now (“right now” being for about three years). This is after a lifetime of feeling too much and everything though, so maybe I’m just calibrating.

Or maybe I’m just taking inventory after almost dying at the hands of Vlassic last night?

I did a whole bunch of work today on deadline AND I made two scallops. Aren’t I so fancy? I think so.

I’m home! And I was worried that I was going to feel weird in my Brooklyn apartment since I haven’t really had all that much time to make it feel like home but I don’t. I feel normal in it. So: hooray!

On the plane I watched a couple episodes of House. I never really got into that show, perhaps because I can’t get past my disbelief that anyone’s last name is really HOUSE, but it was pretty entertaining. Now I’m going to go not unpack.