Ha, so I made it home throught the bastard snow (all you snow fans: come to NJ and shovel the sidewalks, would ya'?) All my nice Christmas cards from those nice ILX posters were all wet. Sigh. But I got foreign cards! Ooo! (Including a hot pink one! It's so gay, and obviously not in the gay = stupid way.)

And I brought some more records home (Mmmm Jerry Orbach!!!). And the three Retro Hell issues of Ben is Dead did not perish (unlike my Sassy's, Spy's, and Select's, sob sob) so I reread them, and lordy, their A-Z is a million times better than the I Heart the 80s nonsense.

What kind of porno would you star in?
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""Which cocktail are you?""
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I am watching Human Instinct, it's so cute, they are giving babies ground up radicchio to prove that babies (and all humans) do not like bitter foods because it means POISON!!! So no fancy schmancy salads for me please, it's POISON.

The disgusting tests were. Ewww! Larvae infestations in the gums. Nasteeeeeee.

The best part is the subtitles. Subtitles for a Scottish man! I ask you! People! It's not a thick accent! Or maybe it is, and I just have a very good ear. Can I get job translating thick Northern and Scottish accents? Pretty please?

So I went to a Cookie Swap party which was swell because now I have 80 yummy cookies (I think I cooked over 100 during the past few days yikes). It was all married ladies and mostly parous ladies at that. I think one of the hostesses was worried that I was bored by the conversations but hey! I can so listen to baby discussion forever. Not that the two hostesses afterwards weren't saying 'Is it posssible to talk about something other than our kids?" I guess I like the novelty.

Besides, discussions about breastfeeding versus discussions about your list of favorite songs of the year? No! Fucking! Contest! Nursing stories are thousand times more fascinating and compelling than music ones. (Although I did bring up music, because I mentioned what celebs' addresses I saw during my volunteer job. They really should have screened me for that job. Guess what rosemary! You get to enter stuff into the mailing list database! You're not a casual stalker are you?)

And my landlord hit me! I said "Oooh! I'm going online to tell all my interweb friends that my LADLORD HIT ME!!!" But I tease, 'cause it was more a shove in response to our ongoing cracks about her party drinking.

Then I shared my anecdotes with Excess Sally, and when I said "party" she asked "Cookie Party" or "Show XXX Your Knickers Party"? Oy Oy Oy!!! I need to buy a nice pair that will go with my $4.50 sale leopard print bra JUST IN CASE anyone does want to look at my underwear this holiday season. I am very clueless and cannot yet determine if it is a possibility SO Better Safe Than Sorry. (But who am I kidding?)

(PS I joke about the stalking. I mean, it's not like I look up cute boys on Google to find their photos. Seriously, I don't.)

I do not like reading 'literary' novels (it's all genre fiction at Chez Gilbert) because of bullshit like this. Yuck, how do you novel readers stand such crap? I was thinking of reading the new Michel Faber (even though Under the Skin was dull) but now? No way Jose. I am boycotting The Corrections forever because I read a wee excerpt of it that was sexually stupid (well, then there's the Oprah kerfluffle but, well, that's for another time pals!) And don't get me started on the utter fucking tripe of Murakami's Teenage Girls Want to Go Down on You!!! or whatever the hell it's called.

WHY DO PEOPLE THINK HE'S SO FUCKING GREAT???? HE'S SOOOOOOOO GODDAMN BORING!!!

I'd rather read pornographic lit, because even though it's predictable and tired the sex is not so damn laughable as 'proper' highbrow literature. Hell, even VC Andrews isn't as annoying, and her stuff (and 'her' stuff) is horrible!

For a laugh, I googled my mom. The only sites that matched were an expired link to a Polish site selling the Polish version of the bible she illustrated (and I remember her having to do extra pictures for the Polish market because they wanted MORE BLESSED VIRGIN MARY) and an Australian site selling a French edition of her first book EVAH.

I think 2002 was the year of the Small World, or something. The current 'omigod' is prompted by Simon Reynolds (with whom I've probably got at least five 2 degrees of separation anyway) linking to a piece by one of my Goldsmiths' lecturers. I know I said something very clever in the Goth (shush you!) class, but I can't remember what. I think it involved some TLC research I had done (i.e. on my lazy arse watching A Baby Story)(Oh it was probably about how technology helps AND prevents conception and delivers babies these days. Oh no! Pitocin drip, oh no!!!)

(Oh yeah, we were promised clips of The Golem in that class, and did we get any?????)

I want to be this kitten.

Which Sesame Street Muppet's Dark Secret Are You?
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1) Wear pirate knickers. (Well, okay skull and cross bones from Paul Frank)
2) Get a kiss from a puppy. (Not as good as a kiss from a cute boy which is what I got last year, same day, same foul mood.)
3) Have everyone love your cookies. (Cookies in a baked goods sense, not a naughty euphemism sense thankyouverymuch, you pervertalists.)

I'm sure there are other forces at work besides the snow, but BOY am I in a SOUR mood today! It's mainly because I can't wear my black tights and miniskirt ensemble now (unless it suddenly stops snowing RIGHT NOW).

Mind you, I have been getting a bit snippy lately, what with my blanket dismissals of poetry and John Cusack ("Admit It, It Sucks"). Actually, mean rosemary could be fun.

And people ask why I hate December? HA!

I am listening to the Fiddler on the Roof Broadway Cast Recording, and I laugh because the picture of Zero Mostel is the one featured in the Bad Publicity section of the Institute of Official Cheer. (Well, FINE, it's a different pose, but it's the SAME , uh, hair don't.)

Isn't Fiddler totally depressing? Pogroms, yikes! Pogroms, Nazis, the Inquisition, gee 60s musicals were a laff riot.

Ooooooh!!!! A screening of the Paul Lynde Christmas Special! I HAVE to go! (And, uh, I wouldn't mind seeing the following week's Liza specials.)

I WANT

I went to the Strand today, but they didn't have it, grrrrrrr. (But I did get a page a day calendar of Ads the 50s!!!)

But: Peruse TASCHEN's All American Ads of the 60s for its humorous depiction of the pre-feminist housewife. British Vogue

Oh, shut up, British Vogue.

So I was told to write about what I am watching on TV, which is a documentary on the Inquisition on History International. Mmmmm Cathars! How Holy Blood Holy Grail!

Who knew there was so much to read about it?

I read the Tomb of God last year, and it was LOTS AND LOTS of math just to say that 'Jesus is buried in the side of some hill in France.' Oh, well then. (I guess that means He has a grave to spin in, which I'm sure He does CONSTANTLY)

Okay, I'll go listen to Man of La Mancha now.