Oscars, chili, rambling

Last night K and I made chili and watched the Oscars. I thought Hugh Jackman did an excellent job, especially on the dancing/singing numbers.

I was thrilled that Sean Penn won the best actor award for Milk. He definitely deserved to be recognized for the great job he did.

I sense that someone is mad at me, that something has happened, but I don't yet have confirmation. It's just one of those gut feelings where things seem to not match up quite like they should.

I've been very wrapped up in a great deal of stress with my family, much of it is completely out of my control, which just gives me this overwhelming sense of helplessness.

I feel optimistic today, like it is the first day of the rest of my life and that I can just put one foot in front of the other and gain much needed momentum that at times it feels like I've lost. I guess I just feel bogged down or as Kate Bush Would say, "Suddenly my feet are feet of mud. It all goes slow-mo. I don't know why I'm crying. Am I suspended in gaffa?"

I need the soundtrack in my head to switch to Robert Smith singing Doing the Unstuck. It is time for that shift in my perspective.

Theory of Natural Man

"The first man who, having fenced in a piece of land, said "This is mine," and found people naive enough to believe him, that man was the true founder of civil society. From how many crimes, wars, and murders, from how many horrors and misfortunes might not any one have saved mankind, by pulling up the stakes, or filling up the ditch, and crying to his fellows: Beware of listening to this impostor; you are undone if you once forget that the fruits of the earth belong to us all, and the earth itself to nobody. ”

— Jean-Jacques Rousseau, Discourse on Inequality, 1754

Expressing through art

I am by no means an artist in the aesthetic sense.
I draw stick figures and have horrible handwriting.
On Sunday K & I went over to Marc's to watch a marathon of Six Feet Under.
Claire, played by Lauren Ambrose was trying to draw a perfect circle as one
of her assignments for art school but ended up blowing off her work to bone
a slutty tattooed musician who she meets at a crematorium while delivering a person's ashes. Lauren frequents the restaurant where K works, so he has probably seen her more times in person than on television. I am told she is very sweet. Back to art. I was over at Beverly's listening to old vinyl on the record player. Her collection is amazing, some of it going back to the 1930's. Laura was there and had begun drawing on one side of a coffee mug with chalk. I felt compelled to pick up the chalk and release what I was feeling. This is the result. As, I said, I am not an artist. (excluding music)

A Picture w/ Some Words is Worth 1,000 Words

I have a softspot for old lesbian pulp novels, educational films(especially sex ed) from the 1950's and a plethera of other odd objects from the past.
There has been so much going on lately that I don't know where to start, though I suppose the best place would be with an apology for neglecting my duties here at the Rant. As many of you may have noticed, Chester Devonshire's image and name never left the blog after he was so suddenly fired due to the economic downturn. After a week, without Chester, I found myself sinking into a slow paralyzing depression. I found myself down on my hands and knees begging Chester to come back. Some of you will be very pleased to know that he has accepted on the condition that his return was to begin after a 4 week vacation to the Virgin Islands.

It is cold in New York, that kind of cold that seeps through your skin and into your bones, making your fingers red and numb, your skin cracked, your toes pulsating with tinges of pain.

K went away to Canada for a week. During his absence aspects of my life began to fall apart, completely unrelated to him, but rather connected to my family. Many hidden thing came forth and my parents separated.

My father was in another car accident, totaling his truck on the way back from a therapy session. He was unconcious when they found him. I'm not sure what happened. The details still seem to not add up. He is in the hospital with a broken sternum, some bleeding in his brain that seems to be headling and an extremely broken leg.

Despite being in a whirwind of stress that has bounced me around from crying to hysterically laughing, I decided to stop smoking cigarettes. I have only been smoking for a couple of months. I wave goodbye to nicotine and spend long stretches without it in my system and then suddenly welcome it back like an old friend only to say goodbye again. I have felt a bit tense the last couple of days, but I am breathing deeper and smelling more, some of which I wish I weren't smelling.

I am feeling very rundown from everything. I don't fully know how to process all events and emotions. I have fear of things to come. Life goes on, but it changes so often in unexpected ways.

Celebrating Lo Mein

Today I tip my hat to Shrimp Lo Mein and thank it for helping me to meet my daily dietary fat requirements.

Pop Pop Pop

Pop Pop Pop
goes the weasel
Pop Pop Pop
goes the cherry
Pop Pop Pop
goes the little toy gun

and

Pop Pop Pop
goes the culture
Pop Pop Pop
and the music
Pop Pop Pop
and the devil plays the drums

don't try to fight it.
you can't get away
when your feet feel the beat
and your hips start to sway

Pop Pop Pop
it's where the money's at
Pop Pop Pop
if you can dance or rap
Pop Pop Pop
or double disco clap

US Airways Plane Crashes into the Hudson River

Today a US Airways plane crash landed in the hudson river after it's engines were disabled by running into a flock of geese. Amazingly, it seems that all the passengers and crew made it out ok. Wow.

Read the Full Story Here

My Father:Update

I thought it strange that my father was released from the hospital so soon after fracturing a vertebrae in his spine and I guess so did the neurosurgeon who said that he should have been lifewatched by helicopter on Friday.

On Tuesday he was readmitted to the hospital and last night at 7pm, he was taken into surgery to repair the damage.

A huge thank you to all of you for your thoughts and prayers. His surgery went well and my father is recovering. This has been a week of emotional ups and downs for me, and I am very thankful that my father is alive and relatively well given the circumstances.

My Father

My father was in a car accident on Friday. After swerving to avoid hitting a deer, he crashed the car off a 15 foot bridge into 5 feet of icy water. He managed to pull himself out of the car, climb a hill and reach the highway at the same time that a friend was driving by. One ear is very badly injured and he fractured a vertebrae in his neck. He goes to see a neurosurgeon on Tuesday. Despite major head trauma, swelling,etc, it is pretty much a miracle that he is alive and was able to go home from the hospital yesterday. I was able to speak with him today on the phone and he was in good spirits despite being in a lot of pain and in a brace from chin to chest which leaves him very immobile.

I ask please that you keep my father and his recovery in your thoughts and prayers.

Thank you so much

Robert

Manhole Explosion!

No, This is not a walk down memory lane to recount my harrowing experience with the stomach flu, nor is this a post worthy of the possible titillation sparked by its title.

Last night I was mixing some tracks for the extraordinarily talented Jeff Cubeta, when my studio monitors started making a low crackling noise. I looked up and the lights in the apartment were flickering oddly. Seeing as how the wiring in our building is so messed up that we're one toaster strudel away from the building bursting into a towering inferno, I began to run around frantically lighting candles in preparation for an electric apocalypse. Ooh, I like the sound of that. Don't be surprised when I release my electro album titled electro apocalypse just in time for you to check the last box on your Mayan calendar.

Suddenly there was a loud boom and more flickering of lights. I decided to flee the apartment, leaving K in his underwear to fend for himself. well, I mean, I offered to take him with me, but he chose to stay behind.

So, this takes me back to a different walk down memory lane, but not the one where I was simultaneously hugging the toilet and the bathroom sink. It was late one wintry night back when I had hope in my eyes and an ass like a 12 year old Chinese gymnast. I had been drinking scotch and fighting off the advances of lecherous old men who wanted to shower me with platinum visas and buy me small islands off the coast of Spain. I was crossing an empty street when an odd clicking sound stopped me in my tracks. I looked down to see that I was standing over a steaming manhole, which sounds a lot more salacious than it actually was. Like the young fool that I was, I stood there trying to place the clicking sound. I shrugged, oh well and continued on my journey. I got about halfway down the block when I heard a loud explosion.

I turned around to see the manhole cover flying through the air landing and spinning like a sloppily flipped quarter. A steaming crater of devastation now occupied the space where I had been standing. Fire trucks, police, crowds descended upon the scene and I, a bit shocked, sauntered home, having lived to recount my tale to my roommate at the time.

So, last night, I went outside to discover that people were all coming out of their buildings, having heard the explosion. A similar descent of fire trucks, police and crowds swarmed to the front of Phat Albert's discount warehouse where yet another manhole had exploded. The street light flickered on and then off. People got bored with nothing much to see and the crowds dissipated.

So, the moral of the story, dear readers? As tempting as it may be, stay away from a steaming manhole, because it just might be the last manhole you lay your eyes on.

The Right Foot

not the left foot,
the right foot. That's the one you're supposed to be starting this year on. Do you have your list or are you too cool for a list? I personally don't believe in them.
You probably believe in them, but then again, You're reading the rant, so you're probably absolutely perfect and in no need of change.

I'm going to make a rough resolution, just to get you started. Yes, I know we're already 8 days into the new year, but most people like me are procrastinators and you probably all got drunk on New Year's which means you started your year passed out in a pile of your own sick with ripped stockings and a missing pump next to a naked midget name Raul. Sorry, I know midget isn't politically correct. Please forgive me. Anyway, it's not me. It's you...oh no. wait. That's not right. It's not you. It's me. ok, so if I had problems, ya know, things I need to work on, well, I would sit down to write one of those listy thingies and it would go something like this...

1. Eat more butter and or things with butter
2. Smile More & Generally Be less guarded
3. Get more sleep
4. exercise more
5. drink less
6. listen more
7. talk less
8. save more
9. spend less
10. Become conversational in the French Language

Alright, so over the next week, let's talk about these 10 items, starting today with Item 4. Some of you may think that item 4 is in direct conflict with Item 1, but I strongly disagree. Anyhoo, here's the rant's very own exercise guru, Richard Simmons. Today he's gonna show us all how we can sweat to the oldies. There isn't a better way I could imagine losing that spare tire, than doing choreographed dance routines with Richard Simmons.

Snuggies

A couple nights ago K and I were watching CNN, when a commercial lit up the screen like a heavenly light. It shone to me and along with a sudden craving for cool-aid, I felt an uncontrollable desire to buy the advertised product,a snuggie, but of course only in one color and for everyone I know. Then I thought we could all hang out together in our new snuggies and drink cool-aid and have a good time. Then I thought that you could all call me "annointed one" but I mean really, that is going overboard, isn't it?

Today's Weather Report

It's snowing in New York.

Quote of the Day

"You haven't seen or heard the last of me. This isn't over. NO! Stop! That's my pencil sharpener! Take your hands off me. What are you doing?"

Chester Devonshire III.
Former Entertainment Correspondent for The Rant

Saying Goodbye to Chester

Everyone, it is with great sadness that I announce the departure of Chester Devonshire, The Rant's long time enertainment correspondent. Due to the tightening of our budget and economic forces beyond our control, we have been forced to let him go.
We wish Chester nothing but the best, a week before Christmas as he joins the masses of displaced workers crowding the doors of the local unemployment office. The sound of him nibbling away at his latest article will truly be missed by all of us here at the rant.

Blueberries or Botox?

These are the really important questions we have to ask ourselves as we age.
As a society we find ourselves constantly bombarded with images of the unattainable ideal of perfection. Every photo is meticulously airbrushed, every blemish and crow's foot miraculously erased. This used to be the case only for women, but men have found themselves standing at a cosmetic crossroad. We can thank marketing and advertising for this, but ultimately I blame the homos. I hate to pile more blame on the plates of a group who are constantly accused of being the cause of hurricanes, terrorist acts, and single-handedly unraveling the moral fiber of society. Oh and of course destroying the sanctity of marriage and ruining the once perfect American family.

Thanks homos. Thanks a lot. You needed hot airbrushed muscular tan asses for your brochure promoting South beach and now we have to choose between injection botulism into our faces or having our skin stretched so tight we look like Chinese alien babies (see Michael Jackson)

Anyway, I digress.
If you happen to find yourself a little older today, perhaps feeling as worn out as a hooker in Tijuana after a marathon donkey show, then there is hope for you. There's no need to cover your sagging bag of bones in a full-body gauze tent. You just need to eat some blueberries and it will all be better.
Here's a link to a WebMD article about aging gracefully....
Bye Bye Botox and hello Blueberries.

If we had a big budget..

We would have hired Willard Scott to do a weather report that would probably read something like the biblical book of revelations. You know, the one with locusts and the moon turning to blood and the sea boiling. It afterall is snowing in Las Vegas and Malibu and it was almost 70 degrees in New York this week. After Willard finished his weather report, we would have him give a shout-out to those people who are 127 years old and crusty, hanging on for dear life on a wing and a prayer while they gum their tapioca, and he'd say something like this.

"Today Jason Swanson in Brooklyn New York is 30 years young. He still gets around without a cane and manages to eat solid food. He likes to drink wine and smoke menthol cigarettes, which is the secret to his astounding longevity. Here's wishing Jason many more years with his original teeth and hips"

But since we don't have a big budget, we couldn't get Willard Scott. We can always dream.

Quote of the day

"Sadness is just happiness for deep people"

-Sally Sparrow

(Doctor Who, the new series: Season 3, Episode: "Blink")

Typhoid Mary would like to retract her statement

Last week, after a meal of Empanada's at the newly opened location for Empanada Joe's on 22nd street, I became very ill with what I thought for sure was food poisoning. I have discovered over the course of the last few days as those around me have fallen ill , condemned to a similar fate of toilet hugging, that I was too quick to conclude food poisoning to be the source of my harrowing experience.

It is rare that I remove a post from this blog. However, in this case, I feel it is necessary to prevent any unfair criticism of Empanada Joes. I afterall did enjoy the food that I had there and it was reasonably priced. It is important to be able to admit when one has made a mistake, and in this case I have concluded that I was wrong.
I whole heartedly apologize to the folks over at Empanada Joes and wish them all the best with their new location.

That being said, Please everyone be aware that there is a highly contagious virus that can be spread with very little physical contact. (see here) I rode the train with poor Carrie Thomas on Thursday and on Friday night, she found herself bowing to the porcelain god.

On Saturday evening, Konstantine also fell to his knees and bowed his head in the confessional known as Jason and Simon's bathroom.

I sign this post typhoid Mary, admittedly wrong...but ultimately just happy to eat solid food again.

Solid Food=A beautiful thing

Slowly I am venturing back to solid food.
Tentatively I can say that it is a good thing.
I'm such a foodie. I love to cook, to eat.
I may not have empanadas for a long time but I plan on relishing this weekend in the splendors of solid food once again.

Ricky...Thank you for the kind wishes. They seem to have worked. :)