20 October 2006

The time will come to ditch the glamour and learn how to handle a gun

I'm sorry. I haven't been updating. I have my reasons, and I've been talking...to Laura, to my mom. It's hard to articulate the things that are consuming my thoughts right now. I read somewhere once that yes, [this blog] is a "window into my life, but I'm not exactly handing out telescopes." That's kind of how I feel right now. I don't know when I'll next feel like exposing any raw nerves of emotion, so in the meantime here are some thoughts to tide us over:

I feel so badly for T.R. Knight right now; being outed by an arrogant, selfish co-star. What the hell, people? How can a person exist who is so small, and so ugly inside, that they would say something like that? Even if it wasn't spoken with the venom that is being insinuated in the tabloids, it was still cruel. I love Dr. Burke; his character is one of my favorites on Grey's. But a) I like George more. You mess with Georgie and we have a problem, and b) I have trouble separating Isaiah Washington the prick with this fictional character he plays on the TV. Last night I sat there fuming for a while before I could just enjoy the show. He might get kicked off, which would be strange given the development between him and Cristina lately, and it would be sad, but there should be SEVERE repercussions for saying things like that when you're a celebrity who has a responsibility to the public eye.

Continuing the previous entry: I said something to my mom about someone I know who has tattoos. I do this on purpose sometimes. Because I have an itch inside that needs to be scratched. The "This would really set my mom off" itch. Last night, it wasn't so much about the itch as it was to prove an actual point about this person. I mentioned the tattoos, and she continued the conversation as though the word tattoo had never been uttered. Then, it took her a good twenty minutes to say, "And you know how I feel about self-mutilation," referring to a nurse she'd seen with a tounge piercing, (to which I almost said, "wow, I'll bet he's...you know.") "I mean, piercings...tattoos," she continued "...I just don't understand." And then we dropped it. And it was...SURREAL, but in a good way. She just doesn't understand -- no unnecessary judgement. Cool.

I had like a million other things to talk about, but as the day has worn on, my mood has grown darker and more foul.

On the plus side, T-baby is going to be in town this weekend. I heart Teresa, and I've missed her face with all my face -- just like I miss all of your faces when you're in Minnesota/The SOUTH/The J-pan/Chandler/Chi-town, and any other places my friends have been scattered.

[Currently Spinning: Ima Robot - Pouring Pain]


Matt said...


Anonymous said...

mmmmm tats. you wanna get matching tats? oh wait, you picked your's already with matt's help...half celtic symbol half taco right? "was i just accidentally racist?"

i miss yo face too. can't wait for turkey day and consequently the excessive consumerism that we shall unleash on the twin cities' and its surrounding suburbs.