I've been debating lately whether or not to hang up my blogging "duties." There doesn't seem to be much point. I seldom have anything to write about, and when I do, it's usually a bitching and moaning session. I know how old those can get ... so I'm trying to decide whether or not to continue with this little venture. It's therapeutic for me, to vent here ... but I also hold back sometimes, for fear of hurting someone who might read what's within. I shrug and press on.

It could just be the general "blah" I feel. It seems every time I take one step forward, I take the proverbial two steps backward. Work is a drag, my professional life "on hold" and in a daunting state of limbo. I fear that the 8 to 9 months I was "promised" will turn into 8 or 9 more -- and that makes my head hurt. My personal life is good, for the most part. There are things that T and I can't seem to see eye-to-eye on that bring about what, at times, appears to be insurmountable stress. And we're both stubborn enough to stand firm and think we're absolutely right, regardless of how the other is feeling. I'm very comfortable living where I live, but at the same time, feel like something of a failure that I'm renting from a friend and not making headway on my own condo or house payment. That just brings my debt to the forefront of my mind, and I get overwhelmed, thinking how incredibly messed up it is that I'm still paying for a surgical procedure I endured over 7 years ago. The same surgical procedure, I might add, that has inadvertently brought about a drastic change in my demeanor and physical "being" -- and is, at the root, the cause of the malaise that drapes itself over my relationship. And I honestly believe that we both truly do the "best we can." There are times when that's just not enough, I guess. We're left with the task of persevering, which we've come to do with aplomb. I try to tell myself they're simply bumps in the road of life ... and that things could be infinitely worse. It's small comfort, however, when I find myself worrying that I'm an unsatisfactory life partner.

My mother's health is failing, although she seems to be holding steady lately. I remind myself that she's 82 years old and has lived a rich, full life. Sure, there have been stressors and moments of utter lunacy -- but those are the interesting strands in her life's tapestry. She's a pretty amazing woman ... quite the survivor. I should draw strength from that, and apply her "let's just get through it" attitude to my own life. I think I do, whether I realize it or not, and that does bring me some comfort. Hell, if she can do it, I can do it. And I will. It's just a weird, "off" day. Yeah. That's all.

I'd like to thank the Hollywood Foreign Press ...

So ... The Golden Globes.
"Globes" was the theme of the night, apparently, as numerous actresses decided to go braless ... a trend I just don't understand. When your breasts are pancake-like, it's never wise to display them unsupported. I adore Drew Barrymore, but she looked just awful with her pendulous mammaries flopping beneath her classy gown. And Emma Thompson? Oh, badly done, Emma ... badly done. Her introductory speech regarding Pride and Prejudice was very fun, but the braless look did her no favors. Goodness.

Queen Latifah opened the show with a nice speech about Martin Luther King, Jr. I thought she looked quite nice, her dress a lovely complement to her bright complexion. It was a bit tight around the middle, but there's something imminently likeable about Latifah, so all is forgiven. She looks so much more comfortable with her new, smaller breasts. U-N-I-T-Y!

There were some surprise winners (Rachel Weisz, anyone?), but overall, the Globes skewed just about how I assumed they would. I think the wins for Philip Seymour Hoffman and Felicity Huffman pretty much cement their Oscar chances, and that's okay. I would personally choose Heath Ledger's performance over Hoffman's, but I think Hoffman's strong body of work will push him to the top. Haven't seen Huffman's flick yet, but the previews and clips I've caught certainly look promising for her. She's the best part of Desperate Housewives, so yay for her.

Random Globe musings:

• Kate Beckinsale is stunning and looked fantastic.
• Evangeline Lilly looked pretty, but her dress looked like a nightgown.
• Mariah Carey seems to think she's about 60 pounds lighter than she really is. I'm convinced she has Glitter playing on a loop somewhere in her home, a la Dorian Gray.
• Can someone please explain to me what Pamela Anderson was doing on this program? And what in God's name was she wearing? It looked like she robbed Celine Dion's Vegas show costume department.
• I truly loved S. Epatha Merkerson's speech. She's very deserving.
• Geena Davis looked lovely, as always. I'm still not entirely convinced that she isn't a drag queen, however.
• I have a burgeoning crush on Heath Ledger. He seems so happy and in love with Michelle.
• Steve Carell is hilarious and I loved his speech. He's kinda sexy, too. (ACK!)
• Jason Lee, although I know he's in character for his show, really looked like a trailer park resident who had accidentally crashed the party.
• I do not like Penelope Cruz. At all.
• Who would have thought Melanie Griffith could pull it together and look a bit more than decent? I could do without the tattoo, but she really did seem proud of her daughter. The daughter, however, looked less than interested in being Miss Golden Globe. SMILE, BABY!
• I would have to be forcibly removed from Matthew Fox if I ever met him in person. Woof.
• I adore Virginia Madsen. She, too, should have worn a bra ... but I just love her.
• Joaquin Phoenix always looks like he's forgotten to take his anti-anxiety medication.
• File Laura Linney under the "doesn't get enough recognition" category. She's pretty much always the best thing in every movie she's in.
• Hilary Swank looked very pretty ... I didn't see who her date was, but I know it wasn't Chad. Boo. :-(
• The Desperate Housewives all looked lovely, but Teri Hatcher was a bit frenetic on stage when the show won a surprising Best Tv Series - Comedy Globe. I think my favorite part of the broadcast was the look on Felicity Huffman's face when Hatcher grabbed the mike and spoke before the show's producers. Mrrrow!

I tried to save my life and it didn't work...

Here's Monday, again, and it's time to get back into the groove of a regular week. The weekend was nice -- not much happening, really ... or at least not much that I want to talk about in great detail. Suffice to say I'm sitting on a very wonderful opportunity and am hopeful that things continue to progress toward realizing it to its full potential. Yay for me. :-)

We watched a couple Star Trek movies on DVD over the weekend, and I'm happy to report they still provide me with as much enjoyment as they did when I saw them originally. I'm especially fond of Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country. It's the sci-fi geek in me, I guess ... but I'm a sucker for a good Trek adventure. It's too bad Enterprise never caught on ... it's somewhat strange for there to NOT be a Trek series in production. I've heard rumblings here and there that some plans are afoot to revitalize the film franchise. I hope the rumors bear fruit. I'd love to see something new. Get some fresh voices in there and really shake things up.

We also watched a very strange, unique, and ultimately captivating movie called Me and You and Everyone We Know. Wow. It starts off very strangely ... but before you know it, you're caught up in these characters and what they're going through. There are definitely some whacked out scenes that I didn't much care for, but there are a couple that are so breathtaking in their beauty and honesty that they more than make up for the oddities that are sprinkled throughout. One scene in particular hit me forcefully. Watch the movie and ask me which one. We'll talk.

Golden Globes tonight. They're really not as much of an Oscar predictor as they used to be, but they're still fun to watch. As always, I'll be judging what everyone wears ... with commentary to come tomorrow. And by the way -- BOYCOTT E! Don't watch their coverage. They were stupid enough to fire the blisteringly brilliant Kathy Griffin and replace her with ... get ready for it ... Ryan Seacrest. I could just vomit. Anyway ... to hell with E! And even though I've finally decided that Brokeback Mountain is pretty over-hyped, I still bet it takes some top awards. Enjoy.

I had a dream that I was living somewhere new ... different ... away ... and no one knew who I was. No one. It was exhilarating, scary, weird, creepy, and strangely appealing. What does that mean?

restless

So I woke up about 15 times during the night last night, even though I took some over-the-counter sleeping pills. I feel groggy and a little abrasive, which is never a good thing. I wish I could control my bestial temper sometimes. I know it's over-the-top and dramatic when it's really loosed ... I'm glad it's not happened in a while. I'm trying my best this year (so far - hehe) to just breathe when things torque me off ... three or four times, if necessary. I'm all for avoiding confrontation. I've got that much of my mother in me, for sure.

I had this wacky dream the night before last that a group of people, myself included, were boarding a plane to travel to someone's wedding. It was a small plane with huge windows. They were almost like full-length picture windows on both sides of the aircraft. There were compartments above and below the seats, and each person who boarded ahead of me stored his or her carry-on luggage and other bags snugly in all available spaces. By the time I boarded, they were all full, so I had to stash mine under my feet. The pilot was told to follow a specific route, and it ended up being very close to automobile traffic. There were a couple close calls ... almost clipping a bus with our wing, nearly taking the top off an SUV with our wheels. Eventually, we were gliding high in the clouds, zig-zagging back and forth, watching the world zoom past. I remember being upside down a time or two, and then feeling my stomach drop when we did a loop or two. I was conversing with a fellow passenger (who seemed very interested in pursuing my sister, Carolyn, romantically) when I overheard the flight attendants freaking out because we were nearly out of fuel. Word quickly spread and nearly everyone on board began to panic ... except for me. I was the picture of cool, calm, and collected. What's hilarious about that is that I would most definitely be the one freaking out if I heard such information while flying. I attempted to calm the other passengers ... and then I woke up. I have no idea what this dream means, if anything. I truly enjoyed the sensation of flying, though. And the big windows on the plane made it even more enjoyable.

My! People come and go so quickly here!

I received the very last of my Christmas presents the night before last ... shipping delays and all that, of course. T bought me the new spruced up, restored DVD edition of The Wizard of Oz. I've always loved the movie ... myriad reasons, most of them the same as everyone else's. The most exciting part of this particular DVD, however (besides the absolutely resplendent restoration), was the plethora of new bonus material included. The old Angela Lansbury-hosted 50th anniversary retrospective was included, but I've seen that 9412 times. Three new features were included, all of them co-produced by Turner Classic Movies. One focused on the tribulations of bringing the classic novel to the big screen, another focused on the detailed work that was brought to the production (art direction, costuming, color-checking for the then-relatively new Technicolor process), and the last one focused on people's individual memories of the film. Some surviving munchkins talked about what it was like for them and what it's meant for them. Liza Minnelli and Lorna Luft talked about the often exaggerated tales their mother would tell regarding the munchkins and the general atmosphere of the set. But the part of this feature that spoke to me the most was the section devoted to average, everyday people telling their stories about Oz, what it means to them, and what it was like seeing it for the very first time.

The first time I saw the movie, I was 6 years old. It was during "tornado season," because I remember my Dad saying he thought it was appropriate the network was airing the movie at that time of year. Both my parents had talked about it for months, apparently deciding I was old enough to sit still and watch the entire telecast. I was already a TV junkie, so that wasn't going to be a problem. That was an eventful spring/summer for me, because it was later, while visiting my sister and her family in California, that I saw Star Wars ... my first big-screen experience, and one that very positively shaped a lot of my childhood. But that's another story. We're talking Oz here.

Mom explained that it was one of the best, most successful, and beloved films of all time -- and I think CBS might not have shown it for a year or so, because I seem to remember her saying it was nice to see it airing again, or something like that. Dad was obsessed with the film's switch to color after Dorothy lands in Oz. He talked about it and talked about it, telling me how mesmerized he was as a kid, and how excited he was for me to see it for the first time. So we settled into the family room, in front of the huge Zenith floor model TV recently purchased (and that my parents still have, in fine working order, to this day), popcorn in bowls and lights dimmed. And, of course, I loved every second of the movie. Like me, Dorothy had a less-than satisfactory home life. Like me, she longed to be somewhere else, where it was brighter, nicer, and more exciting. And like me, she sang fabulous show tunes in her backyard. Of course I loved it.

It became a tradition to watch the movie together, each year. We did it for quite a few years, too. I never really outgrew wanting to watch it with my folks, but I remember thinking that when I was ready to enter high school, watching some silly kiddie movie with my parents (of all people) would be ultra un-cool. We did watch it together one more time, though, the summer before I left for college. Although it had been available on video for a little while, MGM and Turner re-released it in a then-state-of-the-art remastered videocassette edition, complete with fold out cover and shiny storage box. I bought it, told them we'd watch it that weekend, and even made the popcorn myself. Dad fell asleep, Mom cried, and I just looked around the family room, knowing full well that I'd be going away to college that fall, leaving them behind. I was certainly ready ... ready to blossom, grow, change, and become me. College wasn't necessarily "Over the Rainbow," but it was definitely the place I learned to fly, just like those happy little blue birds Judy sang about.

Tony and I were watching Jeopardy! last night, and the returning champion was, in my opinion, a total cutie. He had that all-American, everyday, boy-next-door look ... boyishly handsome, strong jawline, good hair. I didn't care for how his mouth looked when he was speaking, but that's beside the point. Tony didn't see my attraction at all (and he doesn't really get my almost total obsession with Matthew Fuh-Fuh-Fox from Lost, either), but I didn't expect him to. We don't cross hubba-hubba paths very often, although I will say it's happened a lot more lately than it ever has before. Later, we were watching the much-delayed season premiere of Scrubs. I've always been a fan of the show ... T just sort of tolerates it, having never really "gotten" the appeal or gotten into the characters (although I think he chuckles most at John C. McGinley). ANYWAY ... all this got me to thinking about attraction ... what makes each of us, individually, attracted to people, places, things? What flips those proverbial switches?

There are so many different types of people in the world ... and someone finds each one attractive. I wonder if it's something that happens when we're young ... an overly friendly mail carrier, or a charming sack boy at the local A&P, that shapes what we're drawn to as adults. Tony mentioned once having a big crush on Dan Haggerty as a kid ... and if you look at the type of men he's attracted to now, you'll see the major similarities. I wonder what sparked that gravitation toward bearish men?

My personal taste in men is all over the place, really, so it's not as easy to discern reasons for my attractions. Although I wonder -- my first "real" experimentation with another boy happened when I was about 11 or 12. The boy was Kevin ... maybe 16 ... the younger brother of my brother's best friend. Everyone from my brother's "group" was hanging out in the garage, smoking, drinking, whatever ... and I somehow weaseled my way into the sea of boys for the final moments of that particular day of delinquency. There were moments, now and then, when my brother's friends were nice to me. His best friend, Alan, especially, had a way of treating me like a normal kid, and even bought me birthday presents. They were never nice to Kevin, however. And Alan was particularly brutal to his little brother. They'd been berating him about something, and when that finally got old, they left to carry on in someone else's garage. Kevin was always the good kid ... he started cleaning up, throwing away discarded soda cans, Suzy Q. wrappers, and other such trash. I started to help. We talked. Definitely the typical "all-American boy," Kevin was also a bit of a nerd. He had an obsession with outer space ... ships, aliens, and the promise of exploration. I think he was wearing a Star Trek t-shirt that day, actually. He seemed to like me ... he didn't yell at me or anything. He shoved me around a little, playfully, and then started rubbing his crotch. I remember being a bit terrified, but also quite excited. He locked the garage door and turned out the light, the switch making its patented "click" just as he started unzipping his pants...
"All-American," indeed.

Ah, another year ... here it is, and we can't do anything about it.
New Year's Eve was fun. Angela had a birthday/New Year's party ... had a nice time there, especially during the wacky White Elephant gift exchange. I can't decide if the cat/squirrel made entirely of shells or the travel-size Charmin was the best tacky gift. I think I'll go with the cat/squirrel. It was really quite frightening ... and something I would have seen adorning the knick-knack table at my Aunt Lois's swanky apartment back in the late seventies. Lois had a curio cabinet full of tacky figurines. She collected thimbles (don't ask me why -- she never sewed a thing, as far as I know) and small plates honoring each individual state. Talk about ugly -- those plates were downright hideous. The state's outline was always front and center, but the items chosen to exemplify the "spirit" of the state, usually situated around the state's shape, were often puzzling. For instance, the Indiana plate had an Indian headdress, the IU and Purdue logos, and a cardinal dancing around its circular edge. No Indianapolis 500 reference, no mention of the monument ... no Pacers paraphernalia. But, as usual, I digress ...

After Ang's party, we made our way to the bar. Having been happily introduced to Glenfidditch Scotch earlier in the evening, I was already well on my way to a nice buzz by the time we arrived at The 501. It didn't take much for me to get myself good and drunk, and of course, I did. I remember having a great time hanging out with Matty, Andy, and Andy's friend Kevin. We were dishing on L'il Kim's incarcerated ass, making catty judgments about Pariah Scarey, and having a gay old time cracking on the foolish clothing choices of numerous bar attendees. Ah, it's never dry in that particular desert. One fella in particular chose a NasCar theme -- and looked every bit the redneck he truly was. Laughable. Painful. And just wrong.

I was a little peeved that the bar management didn't do anything to "ring in" the new year. They made a casual announcement that it was "one minute to go," but that was it. No noisemakers were passed out ... the video screens didn't take us LIVE to Times Square (they continued playing the same boring porn they've played for years) ... the DJ did no counting down ... nothing. NOTHING. It probably wouldn't have been so bad had the doorman not been a total bitch ... but the tired ass queen was hateful. Sigh.

We ended up sleeping WAY in Sunday, which was great. I think we both needed the rest. We did some shopping here and there, had some grub, and settled in at home with more of Nip/Tuck Season Two on DVD. Can I just say how much I adore Joely Richardson on that show? She's amazing.

Sorry for the boring post. Nothing exciting or noteworthy has happened lately, really. I'm auditioning Thursday night for the role of "obese young man" in a PSA. Chalk it up to another bit of self-flagellation. :-)