Cannabis also was found in his system

The headline for the newspaper in my hometown of Crystal Lake, Il is "Teen who crashed SUV into home accused of DUI."

It happened in a subdivision known as "Coventry". Once you found yourself driving through Coventry it was very difficult, almost impossible, to find your way out. I can see why someone might just give up and drive their SUV into a house.

According to Wikipedia, "Directly south of downtown Crystal Lake is the Coventry neighborhood, named for the major through street Coventry Lane... Coventry has seen a large increase recently in its Hispanic population. Oral tradition holds that Coventry was originally populated by pilots who fly out of O'Hare Airport."

I had a friend whose father lived in Coventry. His parents were divorced, which seemed very controversial to me at the time. In the summer of seventh or eighth grade I was invited by his family to go to The Taste of Chicago for the fourth of July. Before we left, we all had to sit down for a family meeting about how we were to conduct ourselves in the big city. My friend could be somewhat of a troublemaker so this was understandable.

We took a van to Chicago, and on the way we listened to a Kenny Rogers tape. I must have had my own walkman with me because I also remember listening to Madonna's Till Death Do Us Part from the Like A Prayer album. Or this could have been on my internal soundtrack since that song is about a messy marriage and his parents were divorced.

We had to stake out a spot in what must have been Grant Park (?). I didn't know where the hell I was. There were unfamiliar and lackluster snacks offered. Something like Cheez-Its. Something that didn't appeal to me.

I remember feeling like my friend was embarrassed of his father.

When people ask me when I knew I was gay-- I say that the realization came very late. But looking back, I realize that relationships like this one with my friend, were the first signs of my emotional attachment to men. I didn't know it was "gay."

This friend spent the night at my house, probably about a year later after this trip to Chicago. He brought some cocaine with him, and I remember him rubbing it on his gums, which I thought was peculiar-- knowing nothing about cocaine.

He got further and further into drugs and his mind seemed to disintegrate. He talked about doing strange things. We lost touch.

There is a building that is a law office in Crystal Lake that he said he worked on as a carpenter. Every time I drive by it, I think of him and wonder where he is.

truthiness

finished watching oprah/james frey episode.

lies are interesting. why we lie. to look better or, as in frey's case, to look worse. to get something. to get out of something.

or when we build a different version of events (not even thinking about it) to suit our self esteem or to justify something. repositioning and deleting elements of truth and airbrushing out the things we dont like. a defense mechanism.

but when money or success or fame gets involved that mechanism goes into overdrive. and we lie our heads off.

even when i write a bad check at jewel knowing that i will have the money in two days or whatever so the check can clear...i sign that check with a big fat happy lying signature. show me the money.

lying will always bite you in the ass. always, never fails. the truth will too, but at least it's the truth.

that's why those personality tests they have for employment are so hard. i failed one once. my friend was working at circuit city and she said i should work there too. i had to take the test and they started in with the "it's always wrong to steal" and "i always tell the truth to people even though it might hurt their feelings" questions. i lied so many times and got confused and went all over the place, my head was spinning when i was done. i didnt know who i was when i finished. my friend called me back and told me that i had failed the test.

anyway, my daughter is yelling for me in the next room. plus i need to get some sleep-- my dolphins and my new dolphin tank are being delivered tomorrow! things have been much better since i've moved to spain.

The Best Of David Spade!?!

I'd be ecstatic if this dvd was coming out. But it's not. I made this fake dvd cover on photoshop to vent my anger!

This is a comment to a post on my new favorite blog, TV Squad about the release of two new Best of SNL collections, "The Best Of Alec Baldwin" and "The Best Of David Spade."

Grrr..the best of David Spade. Ok, nothing against David Spade, he did great Weekend Updates. But it would be nice if they would go beyond just having male SNL best ofs-- besides just Gilda Radner and Molly Shannon.

The women (Jan Hooks, Nora Dunn, Molly Shannon, Cheri Oteri, Ana Gasteyer, Amy Poehler, Rachel Dratch, Tina Fey, Maya Rudolph, etc) really are the glue that has held the always crumbling, but often brilliant show together.

I understand and accept that mainstream comedy is more or less a boy's club. Men probably won't buy a best of Cheri Oteri or Amy Poehler collection. Or for that matter, women either. So, I see the business risk that could be for whoever it is that releases these dvds-- however annoying. But David Spade??? C'mon. I guess the fan base is there. But what fabulous sketch or character do you remember from David Spade? There are a few...but in my opinion the ladies really keep the SNL ship from sinking.

Perhaps a compromise would be a compilation like "The Funny Ladies of SNL" or something.

Pisses me off.

gonna gonna get up and get down

listening to coolio (gangstas paradise and 1234 sumpin' brand new). thats how we do it up in here on a monday morning at 5 am. just drank a chocolate ensure and now finished a little debbie mini pound cake.

remember the video with michelle pfeiffer all serious, sitting on a chair, while coolio broke down the gangsta life? then coolio got all mad when weird al did a parody of the song- amish paradise. eminem reacted similarly. those rappers don't like weird al.

anyway, i decided this is going to be a very michelle pfeiffer semester for me. im not taking any shit. in my head, thats what i look like.

now i'm listening to amy grant- "that's what love is for" i remember waiting for the bus in the morning in high school and watching vh1 and they would play a lot of amy grant videos. so inspiring.

maybe amy grant could be my new idol. i could get very into christian rock but still be very gay on the side. i would have a girlfriend and it would confuse everyone and piss everyone off and creep everyone out.

ahh so many options.

afternoon coffee with jeremy

well hi there. it is 60 degrees! what a treat.

i am listening to a mix i got from a friend for my birthday called "30 is good!" uk dance music. i can't listen to "confessions on a dancefloor" all the time. i have my window all the way open and all my lights on. trying to fend off any drop of seasonal affectiveness disorder that i may or may not have. my mom bought me a full spectrum light bulb. it does work- its a nice bright white, not a yellow "night, mother" color.

"night, mother" is a film starring sissy spacek where she kills herself. kara and i use this term to describe that icky yellow just before dusk lighting-- the venetian blind shadows across a bedspread on an autumn afternoon that makes you want to slit your wrists. you know. it was also a play and is a popular audition piece for actors. i thought it would be great to do the play where kara plays the anne bancroft part and i play the sissy spacek, kara wasn't all that interested. then i heard that amy sedaris did the play- not as a comedy, just straight- which in itself is hilarious! even though amy sedaris stole my idea- i still would like to do it. the rights wouldn't be that expensive.

now im all depressed talking about "night, mother."

i have been watching "american idol." like most of america, i love the auditions, but when it gets serious i lose interest. paula abdul seems like she has her shit together. i have some weird crush on simon cowell. it's the accent- not the thin, form fitting sweaters.

i sent a letter to the supposed distributor of the madonna's documentary. they had a spot where it said if you were a tv executive you could request a screener copy. this is what "Bob" said.

Dear Jeremy:

Thank you for your interest.

Assuming this is for your personal use, there are no screeners available. A DVD may be available in the future.
Best regards,

Bob

I have it recorded from VH1 Classic but it has commercials and it's very annoying. The commercials, not Madonna.

I am incredibly lonely and incredibly bored. The email from "Bob" is one of the few emails I have recieved from an actual person. My own fault, I suppose. School starting will be good. The loneliness and lack of activity is the trigger for the built in depression that I have. I'm getting by.

on a lighter note, i did see the unedited version of colin farrel's new "movie". how can i put it delicately? i was very impressed with the "equipment" used in the video. but the set and the story left much to be desired. the narrative structure had no arc and while there was "rising action" there was no "climax."

A Woman Scorned

I recently rented "A Woman Scorned: The Betty Broderick Story" with Ms. Meredith Baxter (no longer Birney). I watched it at Kara's house and it was such an enjoyable night. I highly recommend this movie. If you don't know this true story, it's about a couple in the eighties whose marriage ended in murder. If you liked Mommie Dearest, you'll love this movie.

The movie was made for tv (I can't get enough of made for tv movies right now). When it originally aired the movie was so successful that it spawned a sequel "Her Final Fury" Both movies have recently been released on a one disc DVD that has a great audio commentary by Meredith and the director.

Anywayyy, Betty Broderick was diagnosed with Narcissistic personality disorder. Just for fun let's do a psych evaluation on myself and see if I have this disorder. Such a fun game.

Diagnostic Criteria from the DSM IV:

WARNING! The specified diagnostic criteria for each mental disorder are offered as guidelines for making diagnoses, because it has been demonstrated that the use of such criteria enhances agreement among clinicians and investigators. The proper use of these criteria requires specialized clinical training that provides both a body of knowledge and clinical skills.

Diagnostic criteria for 301.81 Narcissistic Personality Disorder
(cautionary statement)

A pervasive pattern of grandiosity (in fantasy YES or behavior SOMETIMES), need for admiration YES, and lack of empathy NO, beginning by early adulthood and present in a variety of contexts, as indicated by five (or more) of the following:

(1) has a grandiose sense of self-importance (e.g., exaggerates achievements and talents, expects to be recognized as superior without commensurate achievements) Don't know if I expect to be recognized as superior. But I do often have exaggerated feelings of self importance. So I don't know. I don't think I exaggerate my achievements too too much, so OVERALL= NO

(2) is preoccupied with fantasies of unlimited success YES, power YES, brilliance YES, beauty I DO LIKE TO MAKE PICTURES OF MYSELF AND POST THEM ON MY BLOG- BUT I DONT THINK I AM BEAUTIFUL BY ANY STRETCH OF THE IMAGINATION, or ideal love NO OVERALL= YES

(3) believes that he or she is "special" and unique YES, BUT THAT'S NORMAL ISNT IT? OH GOD I'M NOT BETTY BRODERICK AM I? and can only be understood by, or should associate with, other special or high-status people (or institutions) NO
OVERALL= YES

(4) requires excessive admiration NOT EXCESSIVE, BUT A LITTLE LOVE IS GOOD.
OVERALL= NO

(5) has a sense of entitlement YES, i.e., unreasonable expectations of especially favorable treatment or automatic compliance with his or her expectations NO
OVERALL= NO

(6) is interpersonally exploitative, i.e., takes advantage of others to achieve his or her own ends I DONT THINK SO.
OVERALL= NO

(7) lacks empathy: is unwilling to recognize or identify with the feelings and needs of others NO
OVERALL= NO

(8) is often envious of others YES or believes that others are envious of him or her SOMETIMES
or RARELY
OVERALL= YES

(9) shows arrogant, haughty behaviors or attitudes THIS IS A TOUGH ONE. IF I DO, IT'S ACCIDENTAL- I THINK IT'S PROBABLY A DEFENSE MECHANISM.
OVERALL= NO

3 out of 9. Whew, I don't have Narcissistic Personality Disorder. Tune in next week to see if I am schizophrenic.

million little things

Part 1

Martha and Isaac

I don't want to jinx it. I said I liked The Apprentice a lot two years ago and now I hate it. I will go out on a limb and say that I officially enjoy and recommend Martha's new daytime show. I'll tell you why:

1. It's live. So, it's very edge-of-your-seat. She is not a natural talk show host. It's like watching your mom trying to host a talk show. When she's not reading from a prompter, she is candid about what she thinks. When the NYC transit strike was going on, she was very angry about it. She admitted recently to Fran Drescher that she is dating. Today, she made some mild scolding remarks about author James Frey's controversy. You don't hear this stuff from Ellen and Oprah. I haven't been watching a lot of Ellen because it's become so formulaic. (Ka!-backatcha-dance-take a jacket was fun for awhile but how long can you convince yourself that you are enjoying it?) Oprah is too busy trying to save the world. But I still try to get tickets to see her. I'm hot or cold with Oprah. Anyway, got off track. Another reason I like MARTHA is...

2. The guests are doing something. And what did we all learn in improv comedy classes? Talking is better when you are doing something. Martha admitted she was dating a person that could take care of her financially while she was frosting a cake. It's simply more fun to sit on your fat ass and watch someone do something rather than sit on their fat ass and do nothing. Stitch that on a pillow.

3. I believe that Martha is very passionate about what she is doing. Other talk show hosts eyes are glazed over as their guests talk about their tv show or movie. Martha's do too, but in the next segment she's busy decorating a cake, it's her show, and the guest is just along for the ride.


Isaac Mizrahi's new show on Style also great. Not as good Martha's. What I love about Isaac's show is that in the intro to each segment there is a little documentary-ish short of him, that harks back to his documentary "Unzipped" which I loved. What I don't like is that I think the Style network thinks they can just start rerunning the episodes and it won't piss me off. Because it will piss me off. I love "sketches and answers"-- I like a good solid yes or no when it comes to fashion. "Clap for that!" and realizing that it's all about suit jackets has changed my life.

part 2

Well ExcuuuUUUUUSSSe Me!

Pardon me. Pardon Me, Non-Smokers. I didn't realize that me smoking was such a STINKIN BIG DEAL that you had to get the government involved. What a bunch of whiny babyish tattle tales. Running to tell the teacher "Jeremy's smoking and I don't like it. It makes me cough and I'm afraid I might get cancer." *Fake cough, fake cough, fake cough*.

15 feet away from the building. KISS MY ASS. That's right, KISS. MY. ASS.-- Getting all up in my business.

As far as I'm concerned, you can stay 15 feet the hell away from me. You non-smokers are asking for it. You are really cruisin' for a bruisin'. Let's take this outside! Oh, I forgot, I ALREADY AM OUTSIDE, smoking a very enjoyable Camel Light.

I swear with my right hand on any of Oprah's book club selections that this will come back to haunt you and your little stick up the ass asses. It's not about the smoke. It's about making a choice for somebody else and it's going to get you too. We're being walked like cattle to the slaughterhouse down a slippery smokeless slope. Cell phones, cigarettes, what's next hmmm? What else is annoying them?

"IT'S NOT THE SAME ARGUMENT," you say. Bup-bup-bup, don't speak, DON'T SPEAK, I say. If your not one of them, they will come for you too. You'll be standing outside with us too. And I will be blowing smoke right into your unwrinkled, healthy face.

hahahahahahahaHAHAHHAH A HOOOOOHOOOOHEHEEEEEHHHAAAAAA
HHOOOOOHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
HHAHAHAHAHHHHHHHHHHHaaaaaHAHAHA

I will now take off my tinfoil hat and try to hold onto some shred of sanity.

clap for that

dreamed i was friends with issac mizrahi. we met at a department store so he could buy me his cologne. i dont think he even has a cologne. i sensed that he was getting annoyed with me or wasn't totally cool with me.

then we started talking about the fact that he was in the beatles. i told him my mom's favorite beatle was paul.

we discussed the theme song to "the golden girls" and he claimed it was originally a song from an old musical. i tried to tell him that i was pretty sure it was written for the show.

then kara called and i woke up.

excuse me while i wax simpson

"I've dug myself into a happy little rut here, and I'm not about to hoist myself out of it."

-Marge Simpson
The Simpsons #802 3F23

ergophobia

High hopes yesterday. Felt like I was back in the work force, waiting for the train. Anne Welles in the beginning of the "Valley of The Dolls." I don't know what I thought I'd be doing. Sitting at a big oak desk in the sixties answering calls and filing my nails, looking fabulous and being taken out to lunch.

The job was to transcribe, by hand, educational and employment histories (printed out from websites) of lawyers from various law firms. Then these transcriptions were to be used to headhunt. While I read the histories of these lawyers, many who were much younger than I was, I was sometimes depressed, but often just intrigued. Some had pictures, confident looking young men and women, just graduated from law school- ready for a big sexy lawyerly well-dressed world. Futures bright as shiny dimes.

My hand hurt. My back hurt. I remedied this by resting my hand on a big law book as I wrote.

I tried to get into some sort of rhythm, system. Write down what firm they were currently working for, which states they were admitted to practice law, their graduation dates, any honors received, any extra languages they spoke, employment histories. Then, staple the printout from the web to the cover sheet (on which I transcribed their information) and move on to the next one. A stack of printouts the size of two phone books.

They let me listen to my iPod. This was very nice. Even so, the door was closed three times so I could not hear whatever it was I was not supposed to hear. I was reminded twice that this information I was working with and the job I was doing was confidential. One time I was told that the reason the door was closed was because they were firing an employee. An employee I was introduced to minutes earlier.

I can't describe it and am not looking for any sympathy for this 'disorder' I have. Anxiety I guess. I decide that yes, yes, I must go. I will need to leave now. Go. Go. Leave. Goodbye.

Downstairs for a cigarette, talking to my mom on my cell.

"I think I'm going to just call my temp agency and tell them that 'this job isn't for me and I'm sorry I committed for a week and I hope I haven't created a problem by canceling at such short notice."

She says that's ridiculous and that I need to lighten up and it's not for life- it's for food and money until I go back to school, and where do I think I'm getting my money from? She is correct on all points.

I can't explain to her how much it hurts. Wanting to cry, I am short with a goodbye to her. Go up to my office and take a klonopin. "Just sit here. Stay here. It is money. You need money. It. Is. Not. The. End. Of. The. World." Tell that too my nervous system.

Finished out the day. Got home, went to bed.

Woke up feeling ok. Got on the train and it all comes back. Text messaged Kara.

Me:
"All right, well I'll try this again. Butitellya-- i dont like it one bit"
"I got a mental illness here"

Kara:
"Hang in there, Madonna WOULD do it"

Sat back down at my desk, began transcribing. A monk in khakis with coffee stains.
Ok for a little while.

Then I decide, sure of myself and calm, that I will take a cigarette break and leave. I take my building pass out of my pocket and place it on the faux wood desk (so I wont have to come back to drop it off). Make sure to have my phone and my iPod in my jacket. I tell the receptionist that I'm going out to have a cigarette (nice that they even let me have cigarette breaks at all). Go down the elevator, on to the street, on to the train and come home. Semi-psychotic in simplicity, vanishing forever on a smoke break.

I call the temporary agency and leave a message explaining what I should have explained the day before. They call me back and leave a message asking me to call them back. Why even bother. I left my job on a smoke break, are we going to find a way to make this workable? I call him back, explaining what happened. He listens to my explanation and is short with a goodbye. More or less what I expected.

The problem wasn't the job. It was more or less like any job. The problem was me. I don't think I am incapable of being a productive person. I just have some sort of thing that makes me feel like I need to ESCAPE. NOW. I knew when I got there that this would happen and I shouldn't and couldn't be there. Not there, not right now, for one reason or another.

"Maybe try again tomorrow." -Alica Nash, A Beautiful Mind

atomic clocks, cassettes and bad grammar

i got an atomic clock for Christmas. actually, it was a present my dad regifted to me because he already had one. it lists the current temperature and humidity in my studiopad. then it, i guess, calculates the two and decides if it's comfortable.

to indicate whether it's comfortable enough it shows a smiley face or a frowny face.

i have never received a smiley face and i fear i never will.


i just downloaded a bunch of erasure songs onto my iPod. the song "la gloria" from the album "wild!" brings back memories of this girl who worked at mcdonalds on and off. i loved her so much. she was an older and bigger girl and i thought she was hilarious. when we had an open house for our families the day before we opened we got to give our parents tours "behind the counter" at mcdonalds. she brought back her family and very dramatically said, "and this is where all the magic happens." at the time i thought this comment was so witty and fabulous.

anyway, i remember her telling me she and her friend were on the way to spring hill mall (the mall to go where we lived) and both of them were so excited by the song "la gloria" by erasure that they got in a car accident.




i failed driver's ed once and my driver's license test twice. kara did not. she was driving, like a year before i. i would always try to, and usually succeeded in dominating the cassette player in her car.

kara refused to let me play madonna's "you can dance" tape. she claimed that the album would cause her to get in a grizzly accident.

but looking back, i think she just detested this lopsided and often annoying album. but i really believed that she had some sort of psychic ability to see into the future or at least knew what madonna albums could cause car accidents. i believed her and didnt push it.

more therapy memories

went to see a psychotherapist near great america. he had a very holiday inn type office. pastel pink and green accents and little scuptures i imagined were given to him by former patients. how had they done? were they successful in their treatments or were they in hospitals? probably marital issues, nothing major. upscale problems.

anyway, he became sort of a father figure to me. lots of talk about what it means to be a man. the wounded warrior. he told me that i tried to entertain people. that maybe i didnt need to do that so much if i didnt want to. he told me that instead of listening to music and watching tv all the time, that maybe i should, once in awhile-- listen to the silence. once i told him i wasn't eating very well and he took me out for hot dogs. i asked him, naively, to come see me in a school play i was in. he politely declined.

after awhile i didn't feel like i needed therapy so much and cut down our visits to once a month and then to nothing. later on after being hospitalized i called on him again. he suggested a book by ken wilber. i still have it-- its all about, fuck i dont know what the hell its about.

then i started seeing a therapist in chicago who i loved. i stopped going basically because i couldnt afford it. she helped me through some rough times. i told her i wanted to go back to school-- she said that maybe i couldnt handle it. i did, and i can.