— There’s something wonderfully incongrous about the melty spring weather and the sight of ice skaters at Rockefeller Center.
— I was reading Scoop
— Congratulations, Jackie! WHOO-HOO!!!
— Meeting David tonight for drinks. I rarely say this – but I sure could use a drink today.
— On the treadmill today at the gym. My iPod was blaring but I was also watching the Maury Povich show – which was on one of the TV screens in my view. I wasn’t really watching it at first, but eventually I found myself sucked into the melodrama. It was some paternity test show, which at first horrified and disgusted me. I found myself thinking, as I pounded away up my incline, “Girls, there’s this little thing called birth control. It is an AWESOME invention. It is not infallible, no, and there can be mistakes – but you really should use it ANYway. Just a tip.” I was scowling at the TV, disturbed by the histrionics, the self-righteous shouting of the teen moms, the slouching baby-daddys who want NO part of the baby had by the ho he can’t even remember. I JUDGED Maury Povich for hosting such a disgraceful show. And then by the end, whaddyaknow, I was in tears because that one couple really seemed to love each other, and they had broken up and gotten back together … and she had a baby … and they weren’t sure whose it was … and he was crying about how he loved her, and he would love the baby anyway, and she was crying with mascara streaks coming down, and she looked kind of pretty even with the unfortunate gap-tooth, and I felt that they loved each other, and I wanted it to work for them, HE was no baby daddy, he was a stand-up guy!, and when they found out the baby WAS his – the two of them jumped up and down, hugging and kissing and carrying on, and I – who had been a TOWERING scowl of judgment 2 seconds earlier, succumbed, and wiped tears of happiness off my face, careening along into my 20th minute on the treadmill, as the Maury credits began to roll. Shameless television manipulation and I participated in it fully. At first against my will, and then wholeheartedly. My stern judgment of the whole thing was no match for the likes of Maury Povich. I caved! Because they loved each other and yay, he was the baby’s daddy! Yay!
— Then I went and had a sauna so I could calm the fuck down.
— I was in an elevator with Mike Tyson today. Just me and him. His head is huge and it morphs into a massive neck without any indentation whatsoever. The head/neck is wider than my entire body. It’s HUGE. I mean, I knew he was huge but to see it in person really brought it all home. He had on a dark suit, dark glasses, and he smelled fantastic.
Did he bite your ear off?
Okay. I’m freaking out that you were in an elevator with him. And, like, not in a good way. Did he speak to you? Look at you? Seem civilized? I swear, the people you run into …
I only saw a dog with a mustache today. And he wasn’t even famous.
Tyson’s (former, I believe) spread is in West Farmington, Ohio. I drive by it on the way to the ODNR rifle range at Grand River Wildlife Area. Big wrought-iron arch and gate at the driveway, “TYSON” in the arch.
He has done many questionable things, and yet on occasion I feel a little sorry for him. Not enough to give him a pass, you understand, not for anything, but still. I’m probably going to express this poorly, but I sometimes get the sense that…he knows precisely how screwed up it all is, maybe would like to get off that set of rails, but it’s as though the directions are in Cantonese, or Klingon. I dunno…people aren’t really my strong suit.
Sports Guy did a great article with him a few years ago – I think he did a good job of explaining the mix of vulnerability and anger. He hates the feeling that someone’s trying to use him or get something out of him, so he’s often very guarded around strangers. In a strange way, he may have been just as wary of you, Sheila, than you were of him. (But not MORE wary. That would frankly be impossible.)
hehehehe Beth, you crack me up!
Beth – hahahaha Yes, the doors closed and he pounced on me!!
No – he was just a regular person in an elevator. Except you could tell his suit cost millions of dollars as did his glasses. He REEKED of money (and awesome cologne).
Weird – I would have assumed he would always be with an entourage.
I was thinking that too, I wonder how come he didn’t have any bodyguards but then I thought, hold on a second, that’s frickin Tyson, I’d hope he could take care of himself, like, you know, in a way that say, Jennifer Aniston mightn’t be able to. So of course, no bodyguards.
I am laughing at the image of you having to calm the fuck down after Maury Povich. Cause I think I can totally relate. In fact I think I saw that episode.
Carrie – hahaha I know – it was like this emotional roller-coaster that I wasn’t at all prepared for. Like – I went from scorn to teary-eyed love in a matter of 5 minutes and it was just too much for me.
I was also watching the Maury Povich show…It was some paternity test show
Man, has it been a week already?