I went to hang out with Morgan last night. We got ourselves into a little mischief. Harmless fun, I say! It included—“Do you see that? I can reach! No you can’t! Yes I can, I’m just gonna move this chair/couch/bookcase…no don’t….shhh…yes, yes I can! Please don’t fall! I won’t! Aha! Got it! Okay quick, put it back!”
And two things happened, one likely and one very unlikely.
So apparently I’m not a good holiday tumblr. Oops.
Well….a lot of focus in the last few days has gone to my pending trip to NYC. I’m scheduled to fly out in the morning. Chances I’ll actually arrive in NYC on time?
Fingers crossed people.
Oh also, I hate flying. So the Xanax prescription has been filled. 500 million people also flying tomorrow? Added airport stress? Exhausted airline employees and air traffic controllers? NBD, right? RIGHT?!
What does “homeless” mean to you? For me, living in New York City put me on the front lines of homelessness. I’ve smelled them, I’ve stepped over them, I’ve moved seats on the subway to get away from them. It sounds truly awful, but it’s all true. There were positive moments. I befriended a homeless man on 27th and 2nd who was burned all over his body. I used to buy him bagels and give him my spare change. I actually live with a little regret when I think about him. I wish I would have told him my boyfriend was moving, and I wouldn’t be in the area anymore. I hope he’s okay.
Anyway, what I’m trying to say is, I thought I understood homelessness. Not necessarily what it’s like to actually BE homeless. But, I thought, I get it. It’s cold. You’re always hungry. It’s lonely. It’s scary. It’s so difficult to overcome. Etc.
So when my department decided to volunteer at the Midnight Mission in downtown LA, I went along with it. Sure, I’ll serve lunch and then go get margaritas at Rosa Mexicano. Why not?
When we lined up to serve the pasta, carrots, salad, bread, and pears, I jumped on salad. It actually looked good, I like salad, it’s healthy—right up my alley. I tried so hard to push that damn salad. I made eye contact. I smiled. I said, “Salad? It’s tasty and good for you! Nutrients and fiber!” And some of them laughed. Some snickered. Some said they couldn’t eat it because they had no teeth. (Fair.) But for the most part, I sensed some skepticism. Something was just off. It’s like they wanted it, but they opted not to eat it. I didn’t get it. Aren’t they starving? Aren’t they DESPERATE?
After lunch, I spoke to one of the employees at the Mission. I think I even made a joke, “Man, that salad was NOT in high demand!” She smiled. And with stoic sincerity, she said to me, “It’s not that they don’t want it. They do. But salad has fiber. And fiber makes you poop. They don’t have a place to poop so they avoid the salad.”
Oh. Oh damn. So there I am, pushing the salad, pushing the fiber, dancing around in my hairnet and tongs without a care in the world, and fantasizing about margaritas and going home early. And they are worried about where they are going to go to the bathroom next.
The real truth? I don’t get it. And I’m damn lucky.
The Midnight Mission is an incredible place, and I highly recommend volunteering there if you are in LA, although I’m sure there are a million places just like it in your city. You never know what you’ll learn.
On Ch-ord. I don’t think I can convey the emotion needed to make his dbag-ness seem real, but I’ll try.
The scene: a party @ Voyeur for young “Hollywood,” meaning, young people who work in this industry. Assistants, agent trainees, coordinators, etc.
In walks Ch-ord. I’m somewhat of a fan of Glee, and he was sitting near my table, so I very, very playfully said, “Hey, I thought this was a party for people who work behind the scenes.” I was obviously joking. And smiling. Convo went something like this.
Note: His tone was condescending, sarcastic, and kind of like a moody teenager.
Ch: Um, I don’t know what you want me to tell you. I guess I’ll go hide or something. Besides, I shoot stuff. (And he popped his collar and walked away. Seriously. Popped his collar.)
So later in the night, I tried again.
Me: Hey, so sorry about that. I didn’t mean to offend you. (Really I was. I even told a few friends, “Guys, I feel so badly, I think I offended the guy from Glee!)
Ch: Whatever. I’m cool. I shoot.
Me: Okay, well again, I’m sorry….so, what do you shoot? (Again, I was just trying to be friendly.)
Ch: What do you mean? Um, TV.
Me: Well yes, but I meant, what kind of TV? Scripted? Reality?
Ch: (rolls his eyes) Um, like, scripted, what else?
Me: Well, reality. I work in reality. I work on the The Bachelor.
Ch: That show is still on?! How many seasons are you dragging that on for?
Me: Um, yes, still on. Still does pretty well. 15 seasons—
Ch: HOLY SHIT. That’s so lame. Whatever.
Me:—and 5 of The Bachelorette and one of Bachelor Pad.
Me: Um, so what kind of scripted TV do you shoot?
Ch: Obviously for Fox.
Me: Oh, are you sitting at the Fox table?
Ch: HAHA. NO. I don’t think Fox would have a table at a place like this. (snickers)
Me: Well, that’s ABC’s table. And that’s NBC’s table. And that over there? That’s CBS’ table.
Ch: (rolls his eyes) Whatever then.
Out of nowhere, he flinches and covers his face.
Me: Are you okay?
Ch: Someone just tried to take a picture of me.
Me: Oh! Would you like me to block them next time? (joking)
Ch: Yeah, could you? (dead serious)
Before I have a chance to say, “No, no I will not block you because that woman taking a picture is part of the event. She was taking pictures of EVERYONE,” I hear his 12 year old friend sitting next to him start to chuckle.
Me: Um….Hi? I’m Michelle.
Friend: Yeah. Hi. (starts back-up on his blackberry.)
Me: So…what do you do?
Friend: Construction. I’m like an architect. I’m building my boy’s house.
Me: No you’re not. You’re not really an architect. (I say this jokingly and in a sarcastic, friendly way.)
Ch: Why wouldn’t he be he? Seriously, why wouldn’t he be?
At this point, I wanted to say, “Because he is 12. And you’re both punks. Are you even legal to be in this club? You both have bad attitudes and are total douches. And you know what Ch-ord? 5 minutes ago you were no one. NO ONE. So back the fuck off and stop being so pretentious. So sorry I don’t work on your super cool Fox show. And you shoot? Meaning you know how to hold a flip cam? Eat it. You’re going to get kicked off that show in a few years, so I may start being nicer to people. You’re at a party for people who work BEHIND the scenes. As in, the people who may control your career at some point. The people who will help you get places or make sure you DON’T get places. So fuck off.”
But I didn’t. As genuinely as I could sound, I said, “No reason why he wouldn’t be your architect. I’m gonna go get a drink. Have a great night, and best of luck with your show!”
I didn’t stick around for a douchey response. He probably just rolled his eyes anyway.
And then I told everyone I knew at the party that the blond kid on Glee is a douche and posted the story here.
"Unless you’ve never worn leather shoes, sat upon a leather chair or eaten meat, save your condemnation."
You’re right, Sarah, we’ll all just go fuck ourselves now.
The snotty quote was posted by Sarah Palin on (like all the great frontier women who’ve come before her) her Facebook page to respond to the criticism she knew and hoped would be coming after she hunted, killed and carved up a Caribou during a segment of her truly awful reality show, Sarah Palin’s Alaska, broadcast on The-Now-Hilariously-Titled Learning Channel.
I eat meat, chicken and fish, have shoes and furniture made of leather, and PETA is not ever going to put me on the cover of their brochure and for these reasons Palin thinks it’s hypocritical of me to find what she did heart-stoppingly disgusting. I don’t think it is, and here’s why.
Like 95% of the people I know, I don’t have a visceral (look it up) problem eating meat or wearing a belt. But like absolutely everybody I know, I don’t relish the idea of torturing animals. I don’t enjoy the fact that they’re dead and I certainly don’t want to volunteer to be the one to kill them and if I were picked to be the one to kill them in some kind of Lottery-from-Hell, I wouldn’t do a little dance of joy while I was slicing the animal apart.
I’m able to make a distinction between you and me without feeling the least bit hypocritical. I don’t watch snuff films and you make them. You weren’t killing that animal for food or shelter or even fashion, you were killing it for fun. You enjoy killing animals. I can make the distinction between the two of us but I’ve tried and tried and for the life of me, I can’t make a distinction between what you get paid to do and what Michael Vick went to prison for doing. I’m able to make the distinction with no pangs of hypocrisy even though I get happy every time one of you faux-macho shitheads accidentally shoots another one of you in the face.
So I don’t think I will save my condemnation, you phony pioneer girl. (I’m in film and television, Cruella, and there was an insert close-up of your manicure while you were roughing it in God’s country. I know exactly how many feet off camera your hair and make-up trailer was.)
And you didn’t just do it for fun and you didn’t just do it for money. That was the first moose ever murdered for political gain. You knew there’d be a protest from PETA and you knew that would be an opportunity to hate on some people, you witless bully. What a uniter you’d be — bringing the right together with the far right.
(Let me be the first to say that I abused cocaine and was arrested for it in April 2001. I want to be the first to say it so that when Palin’s Army of Arrogant Assholes, bereft of any reasonable rebuttal, write it all over the internet tomorrow they will at best be the second.)
I eat meat, there are leather chairs in my office, Sarah Palin is deranged and The Learning Channel should be ashamed of itself.
Dear Aaron Sorkin. Marry me. Unless you marry K. Chen. Cause I approve of that.
About two years ago, I was sitting in a development brainstorming meeting with the production company I used to work for. The boss said he was interested in pitching something to Bravo. Given Bravo’s known track record for gay-friendly programing (paging ANDY), I said we needed to tap into the relationships between girls and their gay best friends-especially in NYC. Lots of enthusiasm ensued. A game-show like pitch was put together. I wanted a docu-drama, but I wasn’t the boss. It got pitched around, but nothing ever came of it.
Until I just saw a commercial for “Girls who Like Boys who Like Boys,” on the Sundance Channel. I’m not saying my idea was stolen, as it was bound to be explored sometime, but WTF.
And I want her to move to LA. It’s about time. In no particular order:
I took her on a drive through Malibu Canyon:
Where we drank much needed Bloody Mary’s from Dukes while watching the dolphins play. You may have changing leaves and seasons, we have booze and dolphins. Sometimes the west coast isn’t so bad:
And then I took her to Venice Beach where I posed with hilarious jeggings. But don’t fret, the irony is not lost on me. I realize the pants I’m wearing could look like jeggings. They are not. They are skinny cords.
And then we met up with Tessa and went to the Abbey:
And something really, really smelled.
But we also went to The Hudson and took fun pictures:
And I took her to the top of Runyon to show her our hazy, massive city.
Need a fun gift for someone that like sports, movies, TV, politics, pop culture, etc.? (Covers just about everyone right?) And do you want FREE SHIPPING? (Code: TNBHOLIDAYS)
My friend owns a super fun company called THE NAMES BRAND. It’s T-shirts, sweatshirts, and other general apparel embellished with recognizable names. But it’s not like you’re wearing a shirt with a huge MTV logo on it. They are subtle and witty. Check out some of my faves below:
Super cute right? They come in men’s & women’s sizes. And they have all sorts of sports teams, but you’re off you’re rocker if you think I know any of them. Hence my selection above. Check it out! THE NAMES BRAND Spread the word!
Another casting notice from my friend, Kirstin. If you are interested contact her & tell her Tinsely sent you! Email: email@example.com
New documentary-style TV show NEEDS YOU! This brand new series will be looking at relationships between married couples and their in-laws!
Do you and your in-laws have different ways of doing things that can sometimes be frustrating? Do your in-laws old-fashioned values differ from your modern lifestyle? Does the statement, “When mom says no, ask grandma” ring true in your family? Do you wish your mother-in-law wouldn’t baby your husband so much when she is around because when she leaves he won’t do anything around the house?
If you love your in-laws but want to learn to adapt to each others way of life, this is the show for you! Families on this show will have the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to work with a professional relationship expert to help your family understand each others way of life.
GENEROUS FINANCIAL COMPENSATION OFFERED!!
To learn more, obtain an application or nominate a family, please email your story, contact information and family photo to firstname.lastname@example.org.