Things I Love:
also:
dogs sneezing
Things I Hate:
When someone responds to a tale of woe by saying, "It's all good". You know what? It's not ALL good ALL the time. I don't know - somehow this expression seems to have come into vogue and methinks the speaker wants to lend himself a casual, easygoing air, when really it just reveals a reluctance to attempt to empathize or even consider the travails of another human for even just a moment. "It's all good" is a sure sign that all is not good.
Things I Love:
Against ALL better judgement, I love commercials in which animals talk. For example, I like that Meox Mix ad where they're in the recording studio trying to get a cat to sing that famed Meow Mix jingle and the cat keeps coughing. Have I really sunk THIS low? No. I will sink lower. I also like that Toys R Us ad where hundreds of bunnies sing "Peter Cottontail".
One commercial I hate is that one for Lamisil in which an animated fungus literally lifts the nail right off a toe and crawls into it.
AIIII! I can barely stand to even THINK about it. So awful. So, so awful.
As this is by far the most shameful and revealing post I have ever done, I think it's time for me to check into TV Rehab and take part in Television Turnoff Week, April 19- 25.
I really want to do this, but what if I die?
Another day, another annoyance. What can I say? They stack up like flapjacks in a diner. I was feeling rather guilty that every time I do a "Things I Love/Things I Hate" post these days, it's always just things I hate. No one likes a whiner. And then I realized that this entire blog, with the exception of this repeating column, is about things I love. So F all y'all!
Here's what I hate: feeling undervalued. At least I am in good company - this the principal new york condition. I don't think I know anyone that doesn't feel undervalued, other than my editor friend with whom I dined the other day who opined, "I wonder if they'll ever stop paying me big bucks?" Waiter? Another drink please.
To make a long story short, I recently responded to a job for which I am overqualifed and which is vastly, scandalously underpaid. They also warned me to expect working 60 hours a week - no overtime. It seemed so obvious that I should walk away, but because this is a hit show, I agreed to take the job. Not so fast, missy. I was told that my name would be "thrown into the mix" and that I should know the outcome on Thursday. Excuse me? "The MIX"?
The only solution was to throw on TI's "Rubberband Man" for validation. That song is all about the stuggle for recognition: "Who I be? Rubberband man, wild as the taliban, got a 9 in my right, 45 in my other hand. Who I is? Call me trouble man, I'm always in trouble man. Ain't I worth a couple hundred grand?"
Sigh. Ain't I worth a couple hundred grand?
Later research revealed that I was totally wrong about the lyrics. but I don't care.
The other thing I'm hating right now is those people who bought up EVERY Prince ticket at Madison Square Garden in 8 mintues and who are now selling them for over twice the price on Craigslist and EBay. Some people, ahem, who really wanted to see that show, and who would have been really happy and it probably would have been the greatest night ever, were unable to buy tickets.
I will say that one good thing came out of my Tickemaster.com experience, and that's the laughs that Ho-cakes and I shared over their nearly inpenetrable security section. They ask you to type in the word that you see in the box. Sometimes the words look like this, which is bad enough:
What? That's not even a word! And then I got this one:
What in the WORLD?
Things I hate:
I'm filled with hate already today. Wanna know who I hate? My New York Times deliveryman. Let me give you a little history here. He used to leave the paper right outside my apartment door. Then he just started leaving my paper in the foyer (which was okay because Shadrach likes to go downstairs with me in the morning to pick up the paper....truly his only exercise. He waits by the apartment door every morning, eager to go sniff my neighbor's doormat. I swear he would marry that doormat if he could). After that, my deliveryman started leaving the paper outside the front door of the building. About six months ago, delivery started getting spotty. It seemed that he would regularly skip Wednesdays (my favorite day of The New York Times, due to their dining section), then Wednesdays and Thursdays, and THEN --- Well, to make a long story short, I have not received the paper since last Monday.
I'm sure you're just brimming with questions and advice. Let me cut you off right now. Yes, I know that no one is stealing my papers. How do I know that? Because I've been spying on him with my high-tech surveillance system. I've seen him drive down the street and deliver to everyone BUT me. And yes, I have talked to the people at the New York Times repeatedly. On Tuesday, someone assured me that he was going to go straight to the source about this. Id like to know what "the source" is, since I still have not received any papers. I am THISCLOSE to canceling my subscription but I DON'T WANT TO! I REFUSE TO LOSE THIS BATTLE! Do you think I could sue the NYT for emotional distress?
Here's another thing I hate: my inability to make a cogent political argument because I can't quite remember all the salient data and who said what in which source when.
Here's another thing I hate: Kirstie Ally.
I'm going crazy because I know there are a few precious things I am leaving out of this list, but I just need to catalog a few highs and lows from 2003. I'll let you figure out which is which. (One thing I need to add to the "Things I Love" list -- year-end lists. Terrible, I know.)
Politics:
I don't know which event shocked me more, Arnold handily winning California -
or George Bush landing on an aircraft carrier, greeting the teletubbies, and declaring victory.
Fashion:
Abercrombie and Fitch came out with a catalog that took me RIGHT back to my prep school days.
I cannot imagine why this catalog was pulled. To see the entire thing, click here
Sports:
72-year-old Don Zimmer was hurled to the the ground in the 3rd game of the ACLS and a fabulous melee ensued.
After a spectacle like that, no one is allowed to ever again judge me for my love of Funny Cide.
(Personal note to Funny Cide: Thank you for bringing me such a windfall and introducing me to OTB.)
Entertainment:
Roy Horn was attacked by one of his white tigers in a Las Vegas performance on his BIRTHDAY.
Siegfried and Roy have an astonishing website - Everything you can imagine is real - in which the attack goes entirely unmentioned. If anyone is wondering what to give me for Christmas, a trip to The Jungle Palace is not inappropriate. If, for some reason, you want to spend a little less on me, I would love to see the IMAX movie on Siggy and Roy - "The Magic Box"
(and, no, the title does not refer to me. I thought so too for a second).
Just imagine for a moment how things could have turned out differently:
Unspeakable greatness:
Only one person in this picture was saved from scandal this year, and even that might not be true.
Everything you imagine is real.
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