— I washed my walls. They are a lovely pale yellow color and I was horrified at how black my damn Melaleuca cloth was when I was done. City air. Filthy. Invisible and filthy. Horrors. I cleaned like a whirling dervish. I scrubbed, I mopped, I scoured, I went insane.
— The weather was spring-like, heart-crackingly so. I could open the windows to air out my main room – and sunshine streamed in, birds hopped about, and I could hear the screams of kids from a nearby playground.
— I watched 20th Century at one point – taking a break – and laughed my ass off. The first scene alone is nonstop hilarity. I LOVE that first scene. John Barrymore is so. freakin’ funny … and Carole Lombard’s not so bad either. But it’s Barrymore for me that is really the funny one, which is hysterical since he was known as a great tragedian. But Howard Hawks asked him to take that tragic-actor sensibility – and use it in service of a screwball comedy – and it just WORKS. My favorite part of his performance is how he reacts to things. He listens to people talk, and as he responds – his body will jolt, he’ll gasp, he’ll gesture – it’s like every single word from the other person’s mouth is hurting or thrilling him personally … It’s like electric jolts of surprise are always jabbing at him. I was seriously crying during that first scene, when he’s losing it, and being so melo-dramatic (and yet, for this guy – it’s just real life – he’s not being melodramatic – That is his personality) – and Lombard becoming more and more frayed at the edges, trying to please him … Barrymore is hilarious. I love that movie.
— I went to the new gym that opened up down the hill from me. It is deluxe! Much better than the raggedy-ann third-world-era one I normally go to. There are skylights – it’s on the 2nd floor of a 2 story building – and the gym itself is lined with transom windows – and they all were open – and the place just had this airy breezy feel to it that I really liked. Not too many people know it’s opened yet – so it wasn’t too packed – and I had the steam room all to myself.
— I bought 20 bucks worth of incense. I am not well.
— I bought the microdermabrasion kit that Oil of Olay just came out with it – and did it on Saturday night. I see no difference, actually. But then again, my skin is the only flawless thing about me. Wouldn’t change a thing. (Just thought maybe it could look better about the microdermabrasion.)
— I learned on Saturday that I am, at this very moment, one degree of separation from George Clooney. Not 2, 3, 4 … but ONE. He might as well be standing right next to me. I revel in this fact. It won’t last long, but while it does, I am going to keep it at the forefront of my consciousness.
— I remembered, like a bolt from the blue, as I Windexed like a maniac – an author that I absolutely ADORED when I was, say, 11, 12. Her name is Ellen Conford. I have not thought about her for nigh on 20 years – and somehow (the brain is so weird) – her entire oeuvre popped into my head – complete with plots and titles. I felt heart palpitations … like: I MUST TRACK DOWN those books immediately. I LOVED them. There was a “short story collection” that had <spaghetti in the title– and I remember so well that there was one short story in it that was all conversation – a boy and a girl who meet on the beach … and over the course of a couple of different encounters start to date. I can’t remember WHAT I found so entrancing about that story – or why it moved me so much – but I do remember that I was reading it at the same time in my life when I was hanging on to Ralph Macchio for dear life – that junior high horror-time … and that one particular story just gave me so much hope – that maybe things would work out for me, maybe things would be okay. Anyway – all of Conford’s books I loved flipped past my mind – Seven Days to a Brand New Me, Hail, Hail, Camp Timberwood, also To All My Fans, With Love, From Sylvie – which I had adored in particular, because it took place in the 1940s and it was about a girl who wanted to go to Hollywood and be a starlet. The first one of hers I read was actually a book called 7 Days to a Brand New Me – and it really resonated with me when I was 11, 12 … and starting to deal with adolescent issues, and being made fun of, and learning that who I was was actually NOT going to fly. I also remember that there are some laugh-out-loud funny moments in all of these books. Anyway, I am so psyched to have had a sudden opening in my memory, an opening labeled: ELLEN CONFORD (the brain is truly incredible) – because now I’ve bought all of those books on Amazon – and I didn’t pay more than one cent for any of them – and they’re all shrieking my way as we speak. I can’t wait to read them again.
— I rearranged some books. Heaven. My US history section and my Founding Fathers biography section have been rearranged so that they are now together – and it’s turning out to be a really stunning collection. I like standing back and looking at it, it looks impressive. I’m so pleased with my library.
— There are times when I love my Swiffer so much I want to make out with it.
— Oh, and last night, after watching Persona – whaddya know – I couldn’t sleep. So I popped in Oscar – which should please Mejack. I love that movie and I thought it might shake off the eerie blues-ridden feeling that Persona had given me. I love how he doesn’t even look at Chazz Palmienteri when he says, “Shaddup” at the end. With a dead annoyed look in his eyes. I love Harry Shearer as one of the Italian tailors. I don’t like Marisa Tomei and I never have. She’s fake. But I love Stallone in this movie. Oh, and also – I love it when Ken Howard (aka the “white shadow”, also aka “Father Damian, Leper Priest” – a childhood favorite for some unknowable reason) – who plays one of the snooty bankers – says to one of his colleagues about somebody else, not Stallone: “Well … at least he doesn’t have a middle name ……. in quotation marks.” That line always makes me laugh out loud. Maybe it’s the way he says it, who knows … it just works. And how about Linda Grey randomly showing up at the end? So bizarre. I will stick up for Stallone as Angelo “Snaps” Provolone. I know others don’t want to see him be funny and would rather see him kick ass in jungle or futuristic terrain. But I’ve always liked him in these funnier moments, and also – any movie that puts Stallone in those ridiculous dandy-ish spats is okay by me.
— Did laundry too. As I watched Oscar at 1 o’clock in the morning. Good times, good times.
— Hm. I sense a presence over my shoulder right now. Who could it be?
Oh. It’s you again. One degree dude, one degree.
I just told Chrisanne that you had a History Section AND a Founding Fathers Section…..she’s very jealous.
She did say though, that she has a Religions Around The World Section. That made her feel a little better.
Yeah – her religious collection was quite daunting to me. Tis something to be proud of!!
Oh – and I don’t yet have that Lincoln book she recommended. But it’s on the list!!
Well, OF COURSE she is… BUT she’s cute and relatively well off, and, according to Seinfeld really likes short, balding men which I could leverage if (when?) my wife gets rid of me.
JFH: I don’t get why you say “of COURSE she’s fake”. Why “of course”? – cause you think all actresses are fake? Is that it? There’s no of course about it. 99% of my friends are actors and NONE of them are fake. You come here with a bigoted idea of who actors are and I am fucking sick of it. Dude, why on earth do you read me when you know I’m an actress and you have such a low opinion of all of us? I’m not talking about her personality, cause you know why? I don’t know her. I’m talking about her acting. Just never been a big fan of her work. I don’t BUY it. Therefore, to me, it is fake.
I am SICK of the CHIP on your shoulder that you bring to my site. Take it somewhere else. Why even read me? Seriously. I am NOT going to change how I write or how I look at the world. I’m not here to CONVINCE you. I don’t have a blog to convince people who are already hostile to actors and acting and art that it’s a worthwhile thing to talk about seriously. I’m sick of this shit. Sorry to do this publicly, but whatever – you bring a lot of defensive angry stuff to my blog, and you’re not even aware of it.
I’ve had it.
So…aren’t you going to share an explanation of your one degree of separation to George Clooney?
Interesting site, and you are one hot little redhead. The way temperatures are fluctuating these days, that one little degree just might disappear. BTW-I never liked that photo of me.
There are times when I love my Swiffer so much I want to make out with it.
Won’t Hamilton be jealous?
Mark – I think Hamilton has challenged my Swiffer to a duel. A leopard cannot change his spots.
susanna – Nope – it’s a state secret. :)
George – as far as I’m concerned, you can’t take a bad photo.
Your comments about “Twentieth Century” were intriguing, although I’m sure that somewhere during his long stage and film career, John Barrymore had developed some sort of feel for comedy. The real revelation in this film was Carole Lombard, who had heretofore generally been a competent actress, but one not really known for her comedic work aside from the Mack Sennett shorts she made in the twenties (although there were some traces of her comic talent in “No Man Of Her Own” before the film devolved into melodrama). People in the Hollywood community adored Carole’s personality, but she hadn’t shown that much of it onscreen. Howard Hawks (and Barrymore, too) helped her to lose much of her inhibition before the camera, and it sent her career into a new, better direction. (And Lombard didn’t forget; three years later, when she was a major star and Barrymore’s career had receded, she successfully lobbied to get him a supporting role in her final Paramount film, “True Confession.”)
Vincent – Barrymore was known as a tragedian. He made his reputation playing all the great tragic parts. This role in 20th Century was a departure for him. A great risk. He didn’t think he could pull it off and Hawks assured him that he could. Look it up.
And I agree – I love Carole Lombard, in general. She’s hilarious in that first scene when she is trying desperately to do what her director asks. And his comments to her bad acting are freakin’ hysterical.