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Friday, June 4th, 2004
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10:53 am
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I am very nearly certain I saw Tom Waits coming out of my favorite hole-in-the-wall coffeeshop this morning. I did not have the courage to approach him and tell him how much I loved 'Swordfishtrombone'.
Also, Drew called and wants me to go see the newest Harry Potter installation. She is determined to appear in one of them eventually. She kept talking about playing some punk rock witch that had appeared in the fifth book. What was the name? I cannot remember. All I know was that she is supposed to have spiked, multi-colored hair...
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| Wednesday, May 26th, 2004
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7:32 pm - acid reflux
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Unpleasant.
One of Courtney's more unfortunate quirks is the seeming inability to pose attractively for a picture. She can be photogenic occasionally by accident, but the bare truth is that she doesn't know how to work the camera--no one ever taught her.
Not that I know either. Which is why I tend to look so serious in photos. A serious countenance is usually the safest bet when there are more than two flashbulbs popping in one's face.
Perhaps I'm angry at at her, perhaps that is why I'm somewhat passively-aggressively badgering her on a semi-public forum.
Xtina called me back too. She says the bridal magazines belonged to a friend of hers. I don't completely believe her.
Never got an opportunity to see Hellboy, which disappointed me.
Saved opens very soon. Have already received some hate mail, but not nearly as much as expected. We'll see. In the meantime, intestinal fortitude through Tums and Maalox.
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| Friday, May 14th, 2004
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11:21 am - out of the mothballs
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Courtney e-mailed me yesterday, for the first time in nearly seven months.
It reads:
Dear Mical,\
\
1st ofall i did not sta;pl that guyz head i TOLD THEM ALL IN ADVANCXE to leave the fcing show &they didnt listen OK? i had some airbrushing done forteh blender artcle just ignor it. also ignore anything Dave tries 2tell you too
clove
Once I translated it I wrote her back:
Courtney,
I'm sorry to hear of your recent troubles, I hope it all works out all right. Congratulations on your newest album.
Michael.
I didn't mention the fifty-two dollars she still owes me. Best just to leave it alone.
I also think I may know the real reason Xtina cancelled her tour. The other day while at her house I spotted several bridal magazines stowed behind her leather couch. But perhaps I am just speculating here...
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| Saturday, May 10th, 2003
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5:28 pm - I need a good Bob Dylan album right now.
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It's my fault the Mad Miss B. chopped and dyed her hair. I haven't had the intestinal fortitude to relate the rest of that horrible dinner, but I did tell her that Fred had made disparaging comments about her on various radio shows about "the curtains not matching the carpet". For some reason, she took that to heart.
I am wondering though if it is solely coincidence that Xtina is now a brunette as well. Bless her heart, she sent me a fantastic recipe for an asparagus casserole.
Recieved one last bill from Benterprise. They are willing to overlook the six hundred dollar bumper sticker infraction in exchange for some autographed CD's. They claimed they could easily recouperate their losses by selling said CDs on Ebay. While I admired their honesty, I still feel morally strange about this in my stomach.
Fred finally finished the phone chess game from three weeks ago. I beat him, but just barely. He's taken to calling me 'Deep Blue'.
The BF and I have prepaid tickets for the Matrix 2. I'm so excited I'm vibrating right now...
current mood:  awake
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| Friday, April 11th, 2003
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2:57 pm - Dinner with Miss B.S. part two
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... she sat down and started wolfing her steak frites, and my phone rang again. Unthinkingly, I answered it. God help me, it was Courtney.
"So what's the word, M.?" she yelled. I had to hold the phone away from my ear and turn down the volume. Miss B. cackled as she lit her cigarette (Camels).
"I don't know what you mean," I said, even though I did.
"Her tits. Are they fake?" C. yelled (again).
Miss B. downed the last of her spiked diet Coke and said tartly, "Tell Miss Saggy-tits they're real now."
I could feel the stark return of my old acid reflux creeping up my esophagus.
"She says hi," I said to Courtney and hurriedly hung up.
current mood:  nauseated
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6:42 am - Some things are just a bad, bad, bad idea no matter what...
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I actually met her--The Mad Miss B. Heaven help me. We met at the kitschy little coffee place on the corner next to the park. It was drizzly and I could tell her from a distance by the way she was trying to keep her hair dry. That, and her entourage sort of gave her away. It was somewhat of an echo of Xtina's entourage, but Miss B. kept her crew much more tightly reined in.
She approached me, and the first words out of her mouth were: "So, I hear you were workin' with that c---, Xtina?" She didn't even say it angrily, but casually, conversationally, as if the abhorrent C-word were a part of Xtina's name. I knew this was going to be trouble.
I strangled out the sentence "Yes, I'm working with Xtina on a song for her album", and asked if she would like anything to drink. She ordered a diet Coke, and when it arrived, Miss B. produced a hidden silver hip flask (lined with what appeared to be diamonds), and poured a shot of--something? into it. I grew increasingly dismayed, especially when she kept making excuses to run to the ladies' room three times in forty-five minutes.
My cell phone rang and I prayed it would be the BF telling me he'd broken his hip and needed me to come home immediately, but no, it was Fred, fishing for details.
"She talk about me?" he asked.
"Ahh... not as such. Not yet," I white-lied. I didn't have the heart to tell him that Miss B. had referred to him by such names as 'Herpes-Hat' and 'Weeny-Peeny'. I did tell him that she'd been running off to the bathroom an awful lot.
"Girl's gonna get a third nostril," Fred said to me disgustedly, just as Miss B. sat down at the table.
To be continued...
current mood:  morose
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| Thursday, April 10th, 2003
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6:11 am - Having your soy latte tipped over in your lap by an unappreciative cat is not the best way...
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...to start your morning.
At Fred's insistence, I will be meeting the infamous Miss B.S., or rather, Brit... I don't relish the idea of playing Generic Gay Man Arbitrator, but Fred's beaten me in chess four times in a row now and he is not interested in either my vintage Monopoly set or my talking Andy Kaufmann doll.
More details to come.
current mood:  anxious
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| Thursday, March 6th, 2003
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6:15 am - No subject.
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Went down to the Circle K this morning after a bout of insomnia to grab decaf coffee and donuts. It was there that I saw the Rolling Stone with Avril on the cover.
I called her. "You lost the tie!" I crowed. "You lost the tie and you wore a skirt!"
"Shut the fuck up. You're only the nine-hundredth person to bug me about that." she groused, and then said thoughtfully, "If I'd known that dressed up like a skank got you that much attention, I woulda done it years ago."
"That's how Brit and Xtina learned," I said.
Fred D. hasn't called in a few days. I'm starting to worry. His knight has me in check and it's not like him not to move in for the kill...
current mood: awake
current music: Some early 90's thing by the GooGoo Dolls
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| Sunday, March 2nd, 2003
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9:13 am - Not for the faint of heart.
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| Friday, February 28th, 2003
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7:11 pm - T-shirt junkies
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I am what Willis was talkin' bout.
I miss ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) noltecide. Whatever happened to that maniac?
I got another phone call today from Benterprize. They still want the six hundred dollars. The BF agrees with Fred D. on this, and says to just blow them off... but it still bothers me.
Courtney may be coming over tomorrow. It'll be the first time I have seen her since that magazine photo spread fiasco. She is unapologetic for getting naked and dumping champagne over her head. I said: "That's perfectly fine, for say, New Year's Eve, but it might be considered unwise to do it in the back of a limousine for a photo shoot." I still can't believe she allowed them to take photos of her getting her bikini wax done. They published them too.
current mood: anxious
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| Sunday, February 23rd, 2003
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7:58 am - Irish Creme, Hazelnut, or Vienna Cafe?
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Fred D. says I should ignore the bumper sticker bill, that they saw my name on the invoice and that dollar signs popped into their brains. Maybe I should call a lawyer.
Fred's been pretty depressed, what with the whole Pop-Princess-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named here situation. He finally 'fessed up over phone chess the other day that he got burned pretty badly and was still missing the silly girl. Poor Fred... he's so cute, but unfortunately straight as an arrow. I keep thinking of methods to reunite him with Xtina. After all, he's secretly smart, and she's secretly domestic (see previous entries for details), they would make a modern day Ozzie and Harriet if the two of them could overcome their various ego hang-ups--
--oh, the phone's ringing.
Well, that was Avril. She was yelling: "Motherfuggin' Michelle Branch! Every time I see a picture of her, she's got on my neckties and wrist bands!"
"So? You said those ties felt like a noose anyways!" I said.
"My whole stupid individuality thing is blown. Can I go be a country singer now?" she said pitiously.
I sighed. "Go talk to that Kid Rock person. He'll set you up."
current mood: caffeinated
current music: Pat Ortman--"It Begins"
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| Tuesday, February 18th, 2003
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3:44 pm - Oh, NO.
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I just recieved a bill from the company whose name rhymes with Benterprize, to the tune of $693.84... the alleged cost of scraping and cleaning the "I'm changing the climate, ask me how!" bumper stickers off the bumpers of the SUV's in their lot, back before Christmas. How did they figure out it was myself and the BF?! Hmmm. Security cameras?
Still, six hundred dollars?
What did they do, replace the back bumpers entirely?
I've been so distracted by this that I lost the game of phone chess today with Fred D. I've beaten him six times, and today was the first time I've ever lost. I can't tell Courtney, she'd never let me live this down.
current mood: distressed
current music: My Blue Pill--'Tagalong'
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| Tuesday, February 11th, 2003
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6:13 pm - How do I pronounce this?!
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| The haxor handle of michael stipe is "Ser1@l S3rious". |
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6:00 pm - I am so gullible.
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The BF and I played Truth or Dare last night. His dare to me was to eat a cube of tofu doused in Tabasco sauce. I have been gargling Scope on and off all day. Just feeling quite random today.
More calls from Fred D. He's a far mellower guy than I would have expected...
current mood:  hyper
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| Tuesday, January 28th, 2003
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6:54 pm - Humbert Humbert sat on a wall...
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Reading Lolita--getting in touch with my Perv side. There's a certain Nabokov quote that is my favorite:
"Satire is a lesson, parody is a game."
Fred D. called me. He wants to know why my name is showing up on caller ID on three a.m. crank calls. Damn Courtney.
current mood:  pleased
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| Thursday, January 23rd, 2003
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9:57 am - I won't make a 'Complicated' joke. It would be too cruel.
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The three a.m. phone call was just the tip of the iceberg. Little A.L. has been calling all morning, getting more and more agitated.
"Everybody hates me!" she wailed. "They make fun of me and flip me off and call me 'poser' and--"
"Hon, hon," I interrupted, but she railed on--
"And it hurts when they make fun of me and I never show it! And sometimes I wish I'd never become a singer!" she finally finished.
"Okay. Stop." I said. "I'm going to tell you a few things you might not want to hear--but it's for your own good. Okay?"
"Okay," she sniffled.
"Okay. First of all. Your dream was to become a singer. A country singer, am I correct?"
"Uh... yeah. Maybe, I dunno," she drawled.
"A., you're not being true to yourself. You're only playing a role--and people are picking up on that. That's why you're feeling such a backlash." I said.
"So what the fug do I do?" she asked.
I sighed. "Well, do what you really want to do. And I can't tell you what that is. Neither can your agent, or your parents. If need be, I don't know--go to the Grand Ole Opry and audition."
"But I can't just walk out! I'm under contract!" A. yelled.
"Kiddo, get a good lawyer, and you can get out of any contract."
"And my mom just bought herself a Lexus! She's got six payments left!"
"Well," I said sternly, "I'd say that's her problem, not yours."
"Shit," she said, and I could hear her biting her fingernails. "I gotta think about this. I'm so miserable. I have to think it over."
I hope she is! I turned off the ringer to my phone just so I can get some peace and quiet.
current mood:  aggravated
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8:06 am - Been gone a long long time...
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So Avril called me at three in the morning, right at the end of a long writing roll.
"Bau-wee?!" I fairly yelled at her. "David Bau-wee?!"
"Get off my tits," she groused. "I'm still new to this, okay?" I started taunting her by singing Suffragette City.
current mood:  naughty
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| Sunday, January 12th, 2003
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7:16 pm - World-losers and World-forsakers.
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I have been having strange dreams as of late:
Dream #1: I was coming home from a walk (barefoot!) when I spied Marshall sitting underneath the porch. He was asking for spare change. I took pity on him, but all I found that the quarters I'd had previously in my pocket had turned into bus tokens. He was holding a little cocker spaniel, and it was oddly touching--like the Madonna and Child (the original Madonna.).
Dream #2: I was standing in the back yard talking on the cordless phone, ordering Chinese food (Crab rangoon for the BF), when I heard odd clicking noises. And I heard another voice cutting in on the line.
"Who is this?" I said, very angry at being spied on.
"I'm--I'm sorry. I just heard your voice and I recognized it... I have 'Green' on vinyl. My name is John and... and..."
"John? Not... Ashcroft?!" I said.
"Sorry! Sorry!" he said and hung up. I stared at the reciever, realizing I hadn't told the Chinese restaurant my address, but I didn't want to risk getting on the phone again.
current mood:  weird
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| Friday, January 10th, 2003
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1:24 pm - A quote from Rimbaud would be appropriate here...
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Just kidding. My day with Xtina wasn't that bad.
Although I'm still in somewhat of a daze. I spent the afternoon with her talking about movies and producing and songs over Caesar salad (she delicately plucked out the croutons). I made mention of the super-staining lipstick incident, which evolved into the BF's knitting marathon--
"He knits?" Her eyes got wide. "I knit!"
"You do?" I said, imagining crocheted handcuff and knitted thongs. But she went to a drawer and pulled out lovely sweaters of all different colors and sizes. I was duly impressed. I think that's what broke the ice, because she also showed me her collection of those hideous little Bratz dolls (the ones with the deformed heads), and her decoupaged recipe box.
"I don't get to, like, cook as much as I'd like, you know. But when I make something, I always write it down," Xtina said.
"You could publish your own cookbook!" I said, perusing a recipe for avocado (blechh) lasagne.
"Maybe when I'm older and getting ready to leave the game. Like what Patti LaBelle did." she shrugged.
While making use of her bathroom, I took notice of the Mary Engelbreit prints and the stack of Martha Stewart Livings hidden underneath the Vogues next to the toilet. When I walked back to the living room, she was staring at me.
"Don't worry. I don't think any less of you," I said. She snorted.
current mood: amused
current music: "Hey, You, Off my Cloud"
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| Wednesday, January 8th, 2003
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8:12 pm - the joy of DVDs.
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I have recently become addicted to Easter Egg hunting. I just got the special-edition E.T. movie and I have been bugging Drew to tell me where the eggs are. She usually responds by telling me to stick the disc in a place where the sun don't shine.
Got another phone call from Xtina, which I found simultaneously charming and disconcerting. She wants to collaborate on a song and video. She said I could give her artistic integrity. I said: "Sweetpea, you could start getting that by putting your clothes back on. Madonna's 'Sex' phase didn't do anything for her, and I'm afraid it's not doing anything for you." (I get very catty when I talk to her.) To my surprise, she didn't get angry or offended. She was very pragmatic about it, the way she was the last time I talked to her a few months ago. She said she'll give me a few days to think it over.
I am thinking about it, but I feel nauseated. Maybe if I push her a little bit, she could focus more on singing, and I could be the one to start stripping if she wants. Or maybe not. If nothing else, maybe she can clue me in on some good Easter eggs.
current mood:  uncomfortable
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