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I decided I’m pretty much tired of anyone who has “vision” or “a vision” for anything.

In discussing our fictional children’s book series (and by that I don’t mean the books are fiction, I mean the books are a fiction) with my sister I learned that I had both the title and the premise of one of them wrong. It’s Jobs are for Carols, Grapes are for Jane. Meaning jobs are for the birds. I thought it was more like “to each his own” like some people like to work jobs, some like to eat grapes. But I was wrong! It’s good I have her here to keep me in line. So anyway, thus far we have: A Turtle Named Jane, See Jane Eat a Grape, Schooltime for Jane and Jobs are for Carols, Grapes are for Jane. The miniseries will be called Jane: Plain and Green. If you are reading this thinking “I don’t get it,” don’t worry. There’s little to get. It’s more a matter of mild to nonexistent amusement.

Tonight my sister and I invented a game where you say a pet name and then have to figure out what animal it would go with. For example, Carol is very clearly a parrot. Upon realizing that Jane is a turtle, we began coming up with book titles for a series of books about Jane including A New Home for Jane and my personal favorite, See Jane Eat a Grape. We also settled on Jobs are for Carol, Grapes are for Jane and we aren’t quite sure the content, but doesn’t it sound educational? And also heartwarming? We think so too.

Should you find yourself wanting to play this game go right ahead but might I suggest you start with another game we invented called Cow, Sheep, Goat? It’s where someone says the name of a cheese and then you have to say what kind of milk it’s made with. It helps to have an extensive knowledge of cheese, which we lack, hence the game never turned into our own personal Bunko.

It’s hard to believe I still haven’t had gay chicken. Here’s the interview.

If a man’s reach doesn’t extend his grasp, what’s a step stool for?

like laundry and flirtation. sadly I think that might have been drakkar. it’s weird how high school informs so many of your associations. but it felt very potentially-exciting-in-a-back-to-school-way, which is in stark contrast to the way New York usually feels around this time of year which is stagnant and like death and melting cassette tapes in the back of a car. actually it didn’t feel exciting, because it’s hot and gross, but it smelled exciting. this is why I get paid the small bucks to be a writer.

Dear Mouse,
Please leave my apartment you tiny furry bastard. I was unhappy to find you hanging out brazenly on my stove and slightly disgusted when the sight of me kind of waving my hands in the air and saying “uh….uh…. uh…” while debating whether to try to trap you with an overturned box or hit you with something which I couldn’t really do caused you to slither down into the body of the stove. A braver person than I would have actually lifted up the top of the stove but I couldn’t do it. Instead I decided all my cooking tonight would happen in the microwave even though I’ve lost my appetite. Is that you crawling up my leg? This will be the first of twelve thousand times I wonder that. Anyway, enjoy your stove furlough you horrible horrible pointy faced jerk.
Alison

So I promised that I’d give you the behind-the-scenes rundown each time I do a TV appearance and already I’ve fallen behind. You were right to turn your back on me years ago, adoring public. But see I had to change desks at work and I’m changing rooms in my apartment and while these two mini moves hardly add up to anything like a real move they’re still unsettling enough to make me clam up. Did that sound like a real excuse? Because it was hardly one. But I’ll rectify this soon I promise. Expect duck jokes and more. Plus clips!

(from the TONYblog….)