This weekend, in the hood, both the Jehovah's Witnesses and the Mormons were going door-to-door, saving souls. I wonder, though, if they say have their territories. Do they just double-up on people and let the best God win? Or do like the Mormons get everything up from 24th and the Witnesses' have everything below 24th? And if so, how did that work out? And what happens if one starts crossing into the other religions' territory? And if one religion does, is there a rumble? Does it get all West Side Story?

Now, that's a great parody if ever there was. Just imagine the songs: "I want to live in Utah" or "I feel Holy." And imagine lyrics like "When you're a Mormon/You're a Mormon all the way/From your first Jesus Jammie/To your last dyin' day."

I went to that super-Swank bar Jade last night with friends. Now, first of all, shouldn't there be some sort of notice outside the bar or on the bar's Web site that you have to sport the Nick Lachey, button-down untucked shirt look? Cause nobody told me and, boy, did I look out of place in my sweater. And second of all, I thought this was all some sort of media concoction, but it turns out that there are some guys who actually do wear blazers when they go out to a bar. Go figure.

We went to the bar for somebody 's birthday, somebody we kind of konw. This girl, it turns out, runs in a fairly different crowd than the typical crowd I hang out with (or who I went with). One of her friends was wearing a really low-cut blouse to show off what was fairly obvious from even afar was a fairly impressive rack. It wasn't until you got a somewhat semi-closer look at the pair that within seconds it become obvious that her fairly impressive rack was more the result of a really bad boob-job than genetics. I just one quick glance and my well-honed Skinemax seasoned eyes figured it out within seconds. Call me old fashioned, but is the point of getting a boob job so that everyone can tell it's a boob job? And is the reaction you want people to have is "wow, what a bad boob job?"

For those who haven't been to Jade, it's a fairly small place made bigger by it being three floors. To get out from the top floor, you have to walk down the steps which takes you to the side of the bar, where the bathrooms are. Since the bar was super-crowded, there was a large congregation of beautiful people hanging out pretty much right by the bathrooms. As I was leaving, I couldn't help but notice that somebody who was in one of the bathrooms was doing quite a number in there. And I could also tell that I wasn't the only one who noticed because a whole group of blondes were standing around sniffing their noses, trying to figure out if acknowledging the farting was worth the loss in fabulousness. Which, I found it is- everyone who was standing by the bathroom quickly lurched into the crowd to get away from it all.

One more thing about last night. Word on the streets is that the new hip drink is the mojito. Whatever. Problem is that bartenders HATE it's trendiness. They hate it because they have to crumple up the mint leaves and crush the sugar and on a crowded night like last night when all the Nicky Lachey and Paris Hilton wannabe's were ordering mojito's (one dude behind me ordered three of them) it means that much more work. It's the cocktail equivelant of ordering a half-caf, lo-fat, soy milk late at Starbucks.

Talk about a total suck-ass bunch of Oscar noms. Maybe worst nominations ever. Seriously. Is "the Aviator" even that good? Does anyone seriously think that in five or ten years, people are going to say "'Wow, the Aviator, I love that movie!" Does anyone think that when VH-1 does the inevitable "I Love 2004" they'll even talk about "The Aviator?" And yeah, I know people are saying it has a chance to win partly because Scorcese hasn't won yet and it'll be a Lifetime thing, but the fact he didn't win for "Taxi Driver" or "Raging Bull" or "Goodfellas" shows how lame the Academy Awards are.

Of course, I haven't seen the movie.

And don't even get me started on "Finding Neverland." Puh-lease. Has anyone even seen it?

Then there's poor Paul Giamatti who totally got screwed. We all know that if Brad Pitt had played the role and purposely gained ten or fifteen pounds to play it (with itenirant cover story's in People Magazine about how he put on the weight and how he lost it) and purposely made himself look ugly, thus showing what a "brave" actor he is, he would have been nominated. Except, of course, Brad Pitt can't really act so it never would have happened. And how did the dude who directed "Eternal Sunshine" not get nominated?

But then again, what do I know. I thought the best movies of the year were Spiderman II, the Incredibles, and Hero.

I wasn't home last night so I set up my VCR to record the Big Fox Sunday Night- new Arrested Development and an hour of Family Guy. There was nothing I was looking forward to more than coming home tonight and watching both those shows and the NFL recaps on "Around the Horn" and "Pardon the Interruption," shows I tape daily. That's some mighty fine TV viewing.

Came home and get ready to watch the shows and realized something- after I had taken out the movie I rented over the weekend (Napoleon Dynamite), I forgot to put the blank tape in.

D'oh!

And yes, just another sign that I need Tivo.

Don't know if you've seen these photos of my girl yet but damn.

That's h-o-t-t.

As a reader on Whatevs said: "I kind of dig her trashy style. she seems like the sort of gal who would totally make out with me if we met at a bar and i told her i bet my friends i could kiss her. what i mean is, she would not only kiss me, but she would do it up right, and, perhaps, bust out with a raucous rebel yell at the end."

Don't know if you've seen these photos of my girl yet but damn.

That's h-o-t-t.

As a reader on Whatevs said: "I kind of dig her trashy style. she seems like the sort of gal who would totally make out with me if we met at a bar and i told her i bet my friends i could kiss her. what i mean is, she would not only kiss me, but she would do it up right, and, perhaps, bust out with a raucous rebel yell at the end."

I'm getting off BART escalator tonight when I realize that there's this panhandler dude completely in the way. He's sitting there on some box, with one of those electric keyboards on his lap, getting ready to play. All this right in front of the Exit. As a result, everyone has to make a sharp left or a sharp right to get out of his way.

But that's not the best part. That part would be the fact that from the way he was staring off at things and the large cane he had by his side, it was obvious he was also totally blind.

That's so not going to end well.

I love those moments where you're at someplace completely random and you think you see somebody you know, somebody who you're also not quite sure you want to see so you try and see whether it's the person you think it is by glancing over in their direction. But you can't tell, so you stare a little big longer. When you stare, however, they notice you staring so they start staring back. Which, of course means, you have to pretend you're not staring and so look away. But at this point, you're totally invested in knowing whether or not this person is who you think it is so you keep on stealing glances over their way only to find that they're staring back at you. And, of course, once you both realize that you're staring at each other, you both quickly look away to pretend that you're not staring at each other.

Now, on the one hand, they're staring at you so that could be a sign of recognition, but on the other hand, they could be staring at you only because you're constantly staring at them. As a result you can never quite get a good look at them and when the time comes to go, you wind up never really knowing whether or not it was that person to begin with.

Of course, you could go over and see if it's them, but that would be way to easy.

R.I.P Johnny Carson.

Luckily, it was a busy day at work, but today was kind of hard because there's a whole bunch of Web sites that I couldn't even go near just because of that thing that was happening back in DC today. I couldn't even make it through Wonkette. And it's almost not even worth turning on the TV tonight because it's just going to be stories about him and all of his minions. Who needs that? I'm not even going to watch "The Daily Show" tonight.

It's really happening, isn't it?

I also see that there's huge protests going on in the City today and tonight. Good one. That's so worked over the past four years. I also notice that John Kerry was one of two Senators to vote against Condi's confirmation. He even sent me an e-mail explaining why he did it. Way to take a stand, there John. Maybe if you would have done that a few years earlier, we wouldn't be in this mess.

Oh well. At least it sounds like Britney's pregnant. Nothing like a little joy in a dark, dark world.

It's 10 o'clock at night and I have a dilemna- on one channel, I Love the 90's Part Deux- 1993. On another channel is a new episode of Charmed. And finally, while I'm not watching the Real World regularly, I did notice that the big promised vacation fight was going to air tonight between the slutty girl with daddy problems and the bitchy cool girl who tries to pretend she's too cool to appear on the show even though she tried out and agreed to be on it. So my problem? What to watch. Or, more like, how to flip through the channels so I can watch all the good stuff on each show.

Since many of you have seen my TV flipping prowess and wondered just how I do it, I'll let you in on how I do it.

Here's my thinking going into it- I know I Love the 90's is going to be repeated ad naseum over the days, weeks and months. I also know that there's no point in watching the Real World until the throw down comes down. But, I watched the first half of the new Charmed episode last Sunday while flipping back and forth between it and the Simpsons. Since the main thing I want to watch is the throw down, I base my center of operations on the Real World and since VH-1 is just a flick up on the remote, that will be option #2. When the Real World ends at 10:30, it'll be when all the parts I didn't see on Charmed starts up (I watched Arrested Development at 8:30 sunday night instead) and utilize the last button to flip back to VH-1 when a commercial comes on, the episode drags, or it's something I saw during Arrested Development's commercial breaks. And that was the plan.

Problem, though. While I want to watch the parts of the Real World that pertain to the fight, the slutty girl with daddy issues is ho'ing around which means I'm more invested in the Real World than I wanted to be. Okay, I can catch up on I Love tomorrow at 7 and 8 and the Charmed episode really wasn't that good. Unfortunately, the slutty girl doesn't actually get any and the fight doesn't actually go anywhere as both people act somewhat mature about it (or, as much as narcisstic attention whores can). But just as I give up on the Real World, they eavesdrop on two roomates going at it complete with all sorts of heavy breathing going on. I'm stuck on the Real World some more.

Real World ends so back to Charmed. It's a bit I've seen so I flip back to Vh-1 and watch that up until they start in with Tiny Toons. Don't care about Tiny Toons so I flip back to Charmed. Commercial. Uh oh, I'm stuck. What to do...what to do....oh, I know- Skinemax! Flip to Skinemax, watch a few minutes and back to Charmed. Charmed ends early so flip back to VH-1 and catch the bit about "True Romance."

And with that, it's 11 which means only one thing- "The Daily Show."

I know what you're saying, gosh Hooray for Anything, what an exciting Tuesday night. And you would be correct.

Thank God Fox brought back "The Family Guy." Love that show.

"Honey, you're a McDonald, not a whore!" Ha!

Speaking of McDonald's, I finally saw "Supersize Me" this weekend. And yes, good movie. I actually came away from it feeling kind of good in a weird way only because while I certainly can't say I have that healthy of diet, I realize it could be much, much worse. Other than the occasional Mickey D's breakfast (which obviously doesn't count because Egg McMuffin's are perfectly healthy for you), I don't eat at McDonald's. Ever. I think the amount of times I've eaten there over the past five, six years could be counted on one hand. As for Crap in the Box, Wendy's, KFC, Burger King, pretty much the same. Maybe once or twice each over the past ten years. And in all that time, I've gotten a burger there maybe once or twice. And I don't drink cokes, don't drink them at all (we're only talking about cokes, right? Not whiskey & cokes, right? That doesn't count as a coke, right?)

In fact, as I was watching it and they were interviewing people who eat there a couple of times a week, I had that Red State/Blue State feeling (Redstatenfraude?). You know, that feeling you get whenever you read or see something about dumb-ass hicks and their dumb-ass attitudes. Seriously, is fast food that good? Is a McDonalds' burger really worth eating two to three times a week? And while there may not be any other choice in say, Bum Fuck Mississippi (which, by the way, just celebrated Robert E. Lee Day as well as Martin Luther King Day. I've said this before and I'll say this again- we in the Blue States will stop thinking you people are a bunch of stupid racist crackers when you stop acting like a bunch of stupid, racist crackers) people in California should no better. We have In N' Out Burgers- there's no excuse for a Whopper. And I don't even know where to begin with the guy who drank two gallons of Coke a day.

Layoffs. Friday morning. A phone call comes in from the boss, a meeting is held and a job is lost.

I knew it was going to happen. I had heard but didn't even think about it. Then, that morning, it happened. Black Friday. Thousands laid off from Super Mondo Corporation and thousands elsewhere. Just like that.

Afterwards, it was like a disaster had happened, some catastrophe. People walked around to see who was okay, who wasn't. Tschotschke's still in cube- they're safe. Suddenly cleaned out cubicle- not safe. I'd pass someone in the hallway with jacket on and boxes full, the walk of the dead. Survivors clung to each other in thanks. People cried. Phone calls were made to others to see if they made it. Phone calls were sent out to loved ones letting them know if they made it.

I knew that it wasn't going to affect me or anyone in my department. I had heard from various people that we were safe, that as we were already technically outsource, it wouldn't make any sense to outsource the outsource. I had heard too that as contractors, we didn't matter, didn't count. We were ".misc items" on the budget. I was never so thankful for not mattering. That still didn't mean a feeling of dread came over me whenever the phone rang. I felt for the people who weren't sure and what it must have been like sitting there, watching as one-by-one, coworkers were called and then the phone would ring for them. We had just merged with another department, one full of full-time workers, and we sat amidst them and tried to go about our daily routine as half of them got laid off. To the other side, an entire section was gone, decimated. The other deparment in our section had made it, survived, and spent most of the day in the bosses office, in tears, watching the whole thing go down.

I had work to do that day. We in my department all did. And as we went about our jobs, treating it like a normal work day, we knew it wasn't. And all day, I was thinking to myself- so this is what it's like to have layoffs and not be the one who gets laid off?

I know for sure that heat renders me pretty much useless. Gets above 85 and I'm done. I thought I was good in the winter, hell, I kept on telling people, I don't mind the cold. Just put on some more clothes and viola. But for whatever reason, as soon as it got cold here, I've been overcome with just an awful case of blah. I don't care about anything, not motivated about anything, don't feel like doing anything. I would say I've been lazier than normal (if that's possible) but I did start going to the gym which I guess would be the ultimate opposite of being lazy, but I still feel like it. I've been going into work late, leaving early. I have problems leaving my computer during the day to even walk around. I've lost track of what date it is. I totally forgot about a party I was supposed to go to. At night, I come home and watch TV/surf the Web. Other than joining the gym, I have accomplished some things. I am writing a lot, albeit not for this here blog. And I've gotten into "Lost" which I'm actually quite excited about. That's accomplishments enough, isn't it?

Today I think I figured out why I'm like this. Because it's fucking cold. Seriously. It's cold in my apartment but still kind of comfortable, especially as I have a heater and a brand new electric blanket (try getting out of bed in the morning with an electric blanket). I sit there and think about doing things, things involving going outside but then think to myself why the hell would I do something like that- it's cold out there? Why go from someplace that's somewhat cold to a place that's even colder? Even going to the movies involves some sort of time outside where it's cold. Why would I want to do that?

So I sit there at home. I read, I surf, I watch TV, I try to stay warm. And I wonder how I ever made it of my mother's womb.

Every once in awhile, I still get e-mails from the John Kerry campaign for money or for meet-ups (talk about excitement) or to send e-mails to Democratic members of congress telling them to at least long a little stronger when they totally whimp out. I don't want e-mails from the John Kerry campaign. The elections over, you blew it, you blew it big time- get out of my e-mail. Seriously, I'm so over you, John Kerry.

I know, yoga is all about focus, about mind/body, about clearing your head and letting being in, but still- it's awfully hard to do focus when the guy two people down from you hasn't showered in like three days. That stench was so bad it lingered even after he moved away.

Also, is it a dis when you have to partner up with someone and the somewhat cute girl next to you tells the teacher that she needs a partner the second you've left to go get the both of you one of those plastic brick thingies? Or when the teacher anounces that the next pose will be up against the wall and the girl waits for a second, then goes to the complete opposite wall from where you're headed? A wall that pretty much nobody goes to?

Someday, when America has gone the way of Rome or the Mayans or the Babylonians, historians will be able to look back at this moment and say "yep, that's when it all went to hell."

Vince Neil ties the knot in Vegas

LAS VEGAS, Nevada (AP) -- Looks like the days of "Girls, Girls, Girls" are over for Motley Crue frontman Vince Neil.

Neil, 43, the band's lead singer, married girlfriend Lia Gerardini, 37, Sunday at the Four Seasons hotel.

With MC Hammer officiating, the pair exchanged vows in front of a celebrity crowd that included Tommy Lee, Nikki Sixx, Dennis Rodman and Playboy Playmate Brande Roderick, the Las Vegas Review-Journal reported.

Okay, I admit it- seeing a naked Mini-Me drunkenly ride around on his scooter butt-ass naked was pretty darn funny.

A couple of days ago, the new Creative Director at work came by and asked if I needed a new computer. Now other than a few bugs, my computer works perfectly fine so I don't really need a new computer. But when somebody comes by and offers you a chance of getting a new computer, you're gonna say hell yeah.

Anyways, this morning he sent me an e-mail asking me to detail what might be wrong with my computer so he could justify the expense in getting me a new computer. For various reasons (too busy Web surfing to answer the question) I never responded to the e-mail. Then, after lunch, I went to go take a piss and ran into him in the bathroom. He was just flossing away and so I told in passing that I was sorry I didn't reply and that I'd do it later this afternoon. A quick, concise in-and-out, nobody gets hurt kind of answer. So I go past the little dividing wall and, well, start to unzip. It's here that, while still in the middle of flossing, he let's me know that I could tell him right there and then so I didn't have to trouble myself in e-mailing him back.

Okay, now he's flossing. I am about to piss. In fact, as he said what he said, my flag was unfurled as it were. And here he is asking a semi-business-related question. Now, as most guys know, talking in the men's room, especially at work, is a touchy thing. Some guys like to do it, others don't. This may come as a bit of a surprise, but I am definitely not a piss n'talk kind of guy but I can deal. But one thing you don't do while pissing away, however, is ask a semi-serious kind of question. Oh, you can jabber away or make small talk, but not a serious kind of question. This is because by asking a semi-serious question, it means that one has to actually sort-of acknowledge the other person which means acknowledging what the person is doing which means being cognizant of the fact that pissing is involved and pissing is kind of a personal thing. It's also a bit awkward because since one has to acknowledge the other, it means one has to give some attention to the other person which would mean looking at the other person and, DEAR GOD SOMEBODY MIGHT ACTUALLY SEE YOUR PENIS!!!!!

Umm….where was I? Oh yeah. So he's flossing and I'm pissing and I'm a little stunned by it all so actually tell him "hold on a sec…" and then finish my task. Then I wash up and move a huge distance away from him just so I tell the still flossing Creative Director that my e-mail is kind of screwy and that it occasionally doesn't work and that while it's nothing major I'm not going to turn down the chance for a new computer.

And with that, I got the hell out of there as fast as I could.

You know what I hate about this weather? That because it's all cold and rainy, everyone's got a bad case of cabin fever so everyone has all this pent up energy. Including, of course, yours truly who told several people that in no uncertain terms that I wanted to "tear it up" over the weekend. Then the weekend comes, the moment to tear it up arises, and it's so cold and wet and rainy that On Demand TV suddenly seems like the greatest invention in the history of mankind.

How much does On Demand Rock? You can watch a movie at home without having to actually go out in the rain to return it. How awesome is that?

I went thrift-store shopping this weekend, looking to retool my winter wardrobe. When I was younger, of course, I was into the idea of getting clothes from thrift-stores because it's grungy and the grungier the better. Then I got older and started being embarrassed by the fact I was still continuously buying some clothes at thrift stores. That's what happens when you're over thirty and mainly unemployed and have to shop at thrift stores because it's all you could afford. I'd look at all the poor people also shopping there for clothes and wonder if that, kind of proud offspring of the Main Line, made me one of the poor too.

Now that I'm working, I can afford to not buy clothes at thrift stores anymore. I can walk right into the Gap and not only buy last season's discounted colors, but also this season's colors. But even though I could (and did a few months ago), I was feeling the need for sweaters (I love sweaters) and some not so-fancy but still nice button-down shirts so I decided to go thrift-store hunting. Why spend $50 on a new sweater when you can possibly get a really nice (even cashmere!) sweater for $5?

Okay, so yeah, I'm kind of cheap.

So anyways, I'm checking out thrift stores in the Mission and I realized that there appears to be two types of thrift stores in the neighborhood- the one's for the immigrants (read poor people) and the one's for the hipsters. It's like the King of Prussia Mall back home which had two sections two it- the one where all the rich Main Line types went and the other one where all the white trash-y Catholic School kids went to. The one's where mainly immigrants shopped, nary a hipster would be seen. Go into the hipster thrift store and nary an immigrant is to be seen. And so I started to wonder, why is it the hipsters mainly goto the hipster thrift store? Is it because the clothes were usually a bit cooler? Or is it because shopping for clothes in a thrift store in which actual poor people shopped made the silliness of the déclassé pose that much more obvious?

Oh, and while at the hipster thrift store, I couldn't but help notice that the mix tape that the workers had put on to play in the background included U2's "Where the Streets Have No Name." Maybe it's because I've lived in the Mission for far too long but I started to break down the possible meaning, the semiotics as it were, of playing "Where the Streets Have No Name" on the tape. After all, it's probably the un-coolest U2 song they've done, making it one of the uncoolest songs ever- it's big sounding and symphonic, earnest and heart-felt, passionate and stirring. In other words, it's everything that according to the prevailing norms of what is cool and what isn't, isn't cool. And when I say not cool I don't mean that the song isn't any good (I think the song maybe one of the greatest songs ever created), I just mean it's not "cool." It's definitely not lo-fi and it's the complete opposite of obscure or indie. The lyrics aren't enigmatic or murkily oblique (like Pavement) and most importantly, it's meant to be played in huge stadiums where a huge audience sings along while waving lighters. So why would the hipsters who work there play it? It could be the person who made the mix tape was feeling nostalgic but the song is still played enough on the radio to make it feel current. And it could have been done ironically but the song is way too good and way too earnest to work ironically. I mean, I'd expect to hear Bon Jovi or Phil Collins played at one of those thrift stores before I'd hear "Where the Streets Have no Name". Could it be then that the person who created the mix tape just thinks it's a great song and wanted to put it on their tape? Is that even possible? Wouldn't they loose their cool cache in playing the song? Or maybe that's the hook then, it's so uncool that they think it's cool? Or maybe they just like the song?

My head hurts just thinking about it.

In light of this weekends big news, that, of course, being the breakup of Brad & Jen, Hooray For Anything would like to ponder the question of what it must be like for the next few lucky campers who get to date Jennifer Aniston. Our big wonder is what it must be like for the guy to date her as it is the nature of things that upon dating someone new, all guys think that the girl's ex was some sort of Brad Pitt figure who they could never compare to. Except, in case of the person all set to date Jen, the ex actually was Brad Pitt.

So our Sainted Mayor is getting a divorce from the wifey. For those outside the little bubble that is San Francisco, it's like when Jen & Ben broke up. It's all so sad in that those crazy kids seemed made for each other. And I'm thinking to myself, geez, I have a bad date and I'm depressed for days. But I'm me- I do nothing of any importance. I'm not the mayor. Wouldn't it suck to be totally heartbroken and not only have to go on with it, but to also be the Mayor of the City? It's not like you can lie around the bed all day listening to "Losing My Religion" in your bathrobe if you're the mayor. And it's not like you cancel meetings because Kim was rumoured to have gone out on a date with someone else and you're too upset to have a meeting. Imagine being all broken hearted and depressed and having to be told to buck up little camper because you have meeting with Head of the Sanitation Department to go over sewage.

But I'm also thinking he's rich, he's good-looking, and he's the Mayor for crissakes. Plus, he always has this kind of hangdog look on his face, one that will probably be accentuated because it's sounding like Kimmy broke his heart because she wanted to be some stupid Court TV reporter, and he's going to look even more yummier now. In other words, imagine the tail he's gonna be getting. I'm pretty sure every socialite, debutante, Social X-Ray, and Spinster just put him on the he's mine list. In terms of lines, how can it get any better than "oh, I'm the Mayor."

In fact, if I were the producers of the "Bachelor," well, hello? Can you imagine the ratings on that sucker if he's the Bachelor?

From a horoscope in today's Examiner:

Once every 12 years, each sign gets a super hit of fun, romance, parties and vacations -- and this year it's your turn. Wunderbar! Never resist temptation because it may not come your way again. (And don't worry about avoiding it -- as you get older, it starts avoiding you!)

A peek down the rabbit hole
While your job improves beautifully in 2006, your close partnerships get all sweet and cozy in 2007. (Smoochie boochies!)

So, according to this horoscope I'm about to entere a once-every twelve years cycle in which I get a super hit fun. Smoochie boochies, even.

Rock on.

Obvious questions is what about the other eleven years? And again, not to get too excited, but how many look-ahead type horoscopes say things like "sorry, dude, this year is going to suck?"

Christ, I have nothing tonight. Sorry.
Things really have gotten kind of boring lately now that I'm working.

So there's a telethon now and celebrities everywhere are donating money and the news is now wall-to-wall tsunami and it's totally evil and wrong for me to say this, but I'm beginning to think that this whole tsunami relief thing is like the AIDS ribbon of 2004. It's just so chic. And everyone right now totally cares because everyone is supposed to care and everyone does care so if everybody is giving money then well, darn right I'll give money (I actually gave money a few days after the waves hit, before it was trendy). It's such the trend right now that I'm counting down the days before the inevitable benefit concert/benefit single gets released. You know Sting's on the phone with Elton John.

And while all this is good and every dollar counts, we all know that we're one mysteriously disappearing cute white girl away from going back to "…and Sri Lanka's where, exactly?"

And so I actually had my one-on-one confrontation. Or, would have if I wasn't such a chicken about one-on-one confrontations and managered up as it were. Something went wrong at work, something that I shouldn't have let go so wrong, and I got the snippy phone conversation followed by the e-mail with attitude this morning. The person who I had the issue with is somebody who comes off as one of the sweetest, nicest people you'll ever meet but she can front some attitude when needed. All of which makes it that much more cutting when she gets snippy. How she does it is that she still maintains that really sweet voice, but changes the tone just a smidge, just a pinch and throws just the barest hint of attitude behind it, and it makes it all that much more cutting. It's one thing when people get confrontational or even psycho about something. It's another thing entirely when uses subtlety. It's the difference between a hammer and a sharp knife. The thing is too is that I'm beginning to think she knows exactly what she's doing. That she uses her sweetness to try and pull things, like we're kind of putty in her hands because she's just so gosh darn nice.

And you know what the thing is? She is so gosh darn nice.

Why do I love the internet? Because thanks to the internet, it's entirely possible for somebody to post a poll online of what the best nude scene of the past year is, then not only post the results, but show pictures of the scenes.

That, it goes without saying, is awesome.

Around last year at this time I posted what my horoscope said last year (2004) would be like. So I thought it would be fun to look at what was predicted and see how accurate it was. I always kind of thought it would interesting to read horoscopes the day after a horoscope to see how true it was, but I always forgot. Now, thanks to the magic of blogging, I can do that. Wee! See, that's what happens when I've been declared the Person of the Year by ABC News. Well, not necessarily me, but still.

But I digress.

Anyways, let's look at last year's crystal ball, shall we?

The big prediction for 2004 was that the year was going to be "green." Whatever the hell that meant. I'm not exactly sure whether or not that meant that I was going to become a hippie and move to Sonoma or smoke a lot of bud. Since neither happened, I'm going to say that maybe it's about money, since green is, of course, the color of money. Which, in a way, kind of happened in that now, I'm making the Benjamins. Score one for Minerva. It also said that "hard earned gains will be solidified" which one can interpret as the fact that I finally might have got myself on several career track type things, or, at least, I'm pretty settled in several things, not the least of which is a job. Score two for Minerva. And finally, I got that 2004 promised luck with "both family and real estate." Real Estate? Umm, no. "Family?" Well, my brother got married, which is definitely bully for him, and I got a trip to Chile out of it, which is bully for me, so we'll call that a draw.

Another horoscope by Minerva said that March 20 will be the day that "Mars, Mr. Aggressive, charges headlong into your sign. You better believe the earth will move for you. This very special spring equinox finds you kicking tail and taking names." I looked back on my blog to around March 20th to see if anything happened around then and I'm pretty sure there was no earth moving, let alone kicking tail and taking names. Lots of bad temp jobs and disastrous interviews, however. On my birthday, "I will "make a financial decision that will affect the next two years" and that kind of came true in some sort of way in that on my birthday, after spending a large part of it drinking with all sorts of friends and getting fourth row seats at a Giants game, decided to give looking for work here one final last push. End result- see mention above about the Benjamins. And finally, I got this, that on Nov. 26th I should "Enjoy -- hopefully! -- a pleasant preview …. when the full moon beams directly on you." Hmm… I spent Nov. 26th in Vina Del Mar Chile with that kick-ass hotel room with a deck overlooking the ocean and I did spend a bit of the night on the deck drinking a Corona, listening to tunes, and thinking how beautiful everything was. That's kind of eerie in a way. I mean, it's not like I spent that night in my apartment watching Skinemax. I doubt by preview she meant that afterwards, I'll be spending a large part of my life drinking Corona's overlooking a beach in South America but If it's a preview in a symbolic sense of the matter, I'm down. Still, however, waiting.

Then there was my favorite horoscope, my Party Horoscope which told me that I'll be hanging out at "the Grand Café" with of "ghosts of every lover you've ever had or wished you'd had." Pretty sure that didn't happen, although since I'm not exactly sure what it all meant, I can't tell for sure. Since I wasn't all thrilled with the idea of the prediction, I'm okay with it not happening.

So that's it. And, in all actuality, it's kind of close in certain things. I did make a decision on my birthday, I did soak up the full moon on Nov 26th and last year ended with it being "green."

As Keanu would say, "woah."


Now let's check out what's in store for yours truly and I'm crossing my fingers that the there's lots of references to "rock star" and "party like" in it.

First the main one, which says that " Pssst! You may not have heard yet (nope) but Jupiter has a message for Twins everywhere(cool). Fun and games head your 2005 agenda(!). The world is your pasture, Gem, go forth and graze (moo). Among the delectables: new loves or mega fun with ongoing ones(!!) and opportunities to star creatively" (hear that Jackson?) Oh, "plus improved interactions with kids" which, well, whatever. I also have a note that "the combined force of Mars, Mercury and Venus demand that you address a one-on-one issue this week" which is a scary way to start the week in that as of right now, I have no " one-on-one issues" to address. Other than being bored out of my skull, the SS. Hooray For Anything is sailing in some pretty easy-going waters these days. Should I be worried?

Onto the next horoscope

"Our personal year takes off in a fateful way with the new moon in your sign on June 6 (great. Does this mean it's going to be a pretty boring next six months?) The next great thing is the departure of Saturn from your money house on July 16. Ding dong, the witch is dead. You've dealt with that tough love nanny far too long. (Yeah! No more credit card debt! Which means hello new computer, new car, and two week trip to Spain come August). Expect dramatic action in the partnership department after Pluto goes direct in your one-on-one house Sept. 2. (guess this means I need to get a date for that night). The full moon in your sign Dec. 15 holds a moment of truth..(like what? Doesn't that sound kind of ominious? Doesn't it make that night sound like it's going to be a "very Special Episode" kind of night?).

Sadly, no "Party horoscope" which is kind of alright considering.

Well, that's what my 2005 is supposed to be like. I know- sounds kind of good. On the other hand, how many horoscopes do you read that say things like "you will be horribly crushed by some girl on a date, your boss will make you hate work, and some awful tragedy will be befall your pet."

And on a cold, dreary, rainy Wednesday night it happened- I got into "Lost." I knew it was only a matter of time. I'm pretty happy about it too- I haven't been really absorbed into a big, hour-long drama since "Buffy" since I've felt like there's a big hole in my life since then.

Today I went to the Castro to go see "West Side Story." I know, how gay could I be? In fact, as I was sitting around thinking about what movie to see, it was the only reason why I could think of not seeing it and realized that it's a pretty dumb reason not to see it so I saw it. Why not? It's a classic- a great movie, good music (for a musical) and about as Americana as it gets. Plus, I'd get to piss off all those people who have their panties in a bunch over the Castro for firing their long-time program coordinator and are calling for a boycott and protest of the theater (some people protest their election being thrown and their leader being poisoned, other people protest over a movie theater).


When I was younger I'd do anything to not have anything to do with musicals, a reaction to my mother's obsessive love with them and the realization that people bursting out into song at any moment is extremely cheesy. Now that I'm older, I still can't say I've embraced musicals, but my appreciation of the cheesiness of them is slowly giving way to just plain old appreciation of them. I do have to admit, however, that as hard as I tried, I could never get past the fact that the movie is supposed to be about tough New York gang members who also happen to do ballet moves while walking down the street. At one point, the members of the Jets would each say something about how tough and strong they were and to prove it, would do pirouettes. That's so gangsta. It reminded of a great skit on SNL from years ago (the Norm McDonald era) where they showed a gang about to get ready for a big rumble by practicing their dance moves. Then the other gang arrived and the rumble began and as the gang started to do their little dance moves, the other gang just moved in and kicked the shit out of them.

It was pretty funny.

I also have to admit too that during the big fight in West Side Story, when Riff and Bernardo got into it and they flash to both of them drawing their pocket knives, I sort of expected an Eddie Van Halen guitar solo and Michael Jackson to appear.

You ain't bad……