exactly

Haven't been feeling well the last three days. Can not get enough sleep. Mumblings from loved ones about not going outside, living in a cave, etc. I don't believe this is the case. Probably Epstein-Barr virus, which we all remember as a very serious disease. Dorothy struggled with it in a two part Golden Girls episode. Not to be sniffed at.

So I'm dealing with that. Also "looking" for a job. A humiliating pursuit:
-Turn product features into strong consumer benefits
-Craft compelling sales propositions
-Shoot yourself in head

It's all bullshit. Can we cut through the bullshit people???

Office in weird downtown building needs someone who can pretend to work. Looking for someone with severe personality problems to deal with manager who also has severe personality problems. Duties consist of making copies of things that will never be looked at again, lots of UPSing.

I don't know what you want but I can't give it anymore.

I just want that hip Sedaris lifestyle. Just lots of crazy crafty parties, making up your own rules. Hilarity. Thrift store clothes and smoking. A kitschy lamp and a vintage stuffed animal with one eye missing.

Spent the morning showing unreleased Madonna videos to boyfriend who was diligently working on a mass email.

prayer

I am down on my knees Jesus! Speaking in tongues for you My Father. Spinning around my 1987 inspired hotel room slash apartment. Have mercy on me!

Lord have mercy! Praise Jesus. In the holy name of the father. My back is hurting, Jesus! From packing my clothes and my DVDs, heavenly father, my back is hurting!

Had to get the car washed Jesus. Had to drive up in the Hollywood Hills and down the Hollywood Hills for no reason to a car wash because I took the guidance of a GPS machine and not you Jesus Christ!

In your Heavenly Name! In your Heavenly Name! Please let me out of this City of Sin alive Heavenly Father! Son of God! Son of God! Lamb of God have mercy on this poor sodomite who travels alone in the City of Angels in a Black Kia Optima!

Praise Jesus! I put my trust in you on the last day of my schooling! My script for 30 Rock is not up to par Heavenly Father!! I am turning it in anyway Jesus Christ, my savior!

Please guide me and protect me. Please let me wake up on time, Jesus! Mary Mother of God, please give me divine strength to help me get through another day of this city!!! Thirty lashes with a wet noodle, Heavenly Father! I shall not use your name in vain.

I have been put through the mill again and I know, Jesus, that this is all for a reason! A divine reason!

Please Lord, guide me safely on my Southwest flight to Midway Airport and to my Studiopad. To the arms of my boy! You frown upon me lying with another man, but I am warning you now, Heavenly Baby Jesus, I will be doing a lot of lying with another man.

Please Jesus! Please, Oh Heavenly Father, make some cigarettes that do not cause cancer.

Heavenly Jesus! I praise you and love you. Let's watch some Madonna together Jesus Christ my savior!

roETRY

un hommage à Madam O'Donnell

today
emotionally exhausting
wanted to walk
run
away

terrified of
driving
writing
speaking
disappointing
losing

such
wonderful
friends
hes and shes
lift me
up and put
humpty
back
to
ge
th
er
again

fallen off
the wall so
many damn times

"cant get a leg up!"
she makes me smile wide
serotonin begins to
bubble again

laughing about
valerie cherish
"we're gonna have a BIG problem!"

here to finish
what
I
began in a tiny
room at 2324
next to the
pizza hut
that never failed
to make me sick

one goal
one goal
almost done

i am not here
to be a star
not here to be
famous

never
ever
said i was

so lets keep it
at that

and go to
see
disney
princesses
with e
because
hes
so
fine
he
blows
my
mind

maxi-post

At the urging of friends and relatives I left the apartment today. I'm really doing okay and enjoying the weather in Los Angeles a lot, but don't feel like doing anything much. So maybe I'm not doing okay. I've been worse-- let's put it that way.
So, I decided to take in a movie at the Egyptian theater-- Drew Barrymore suggested it on Ellen. They play old movies. I bought the ticket but never made it there. Has anyone ever noticed how driving in LA is crazy? Has anyone commented on that before? Well let me be the first to tell you. It's pretty crazy. I got stuck on some side street for like forty five minutes for no apparent reason. By the time I parked at the Hollywood and Highland complex I was ready to go back to my apartment.

I had to park 5 stories underground. As I drove, around and around deeper and deeper into the earth, i was positive there would be an earthquake. I was driving into my grave in a Hertz rental car. I emerged from the elevator in the Kodak theatre where hundreds of cheerleaders were applying their blue eyeshadows. Went out onto Hollywood Blvd -- a mix of tourists and costumed people handing out maps to the stars homes. Darth Vader, Cinderella, a creepy dragon man with wings and fangs, gold contacts. I walked around Graumann's Chinese theater and stared unmoved at the footprints in cement trying to feel something. "These are Bette Davis' footprints, These are Bette Davis' footprints-- this should mean something to you."

I went to McDonalds. Again with the waiting forever in Hollywood. I waited 20 minutes for my NEW Angus Bacon and Cheese Hamburger with no pickles. There was a tiny old lady with a velvet hat attached to her hair with bobby pins, waiting for one hamburger. I imagined that she was once a B-List actress who had lived in the same apartment since the forties.

"I guess that's what happens when you live in this town too long," came from a lesbian trapped in the body of a married suburban woman. I didn't catch what she was referring to.

You never feel like you're the tourist. In LA and New York, in tourist heavy areas I have felt so superior. Somehow, I am above it all. I have the edge, the inside scoop, I see how it all works. I feel like this at parties too.

My days in LA start at a crisp 6:30. The alarm waking me-- which is very unusual. I think because I have been sleeping a lot. This creative, tortured brain needs A LOT of rest. The pot of coffee prepared the night before, cleverly. No I do not shower in the morning, this goes for LA and Chicago. I prefer a slightly ripe and oiled coat. A cup of coffee, a generous intake of nicotine and the days blog headlines- Yahoo! news, Fleshbot, WOW report, etc.

I'm off after that in my black KIA Optima, scooting down Barham Blvd. Headed to the studio, I struggle with internal conflicts: relationships concerns (familial, friendly and romantic), finances, career, spirituality, sex, food. I stop at the McDonald's for a bacon, egg and cheese McGriddle that I have no interest in eating and never enjoy. The small diet coke is delicious. "Do you want the value meal?" and a "No senor, I do not." I can barely choke down the McGriddle, how do you think I'm gonna handle that hash brown.

A right turn into the studio, "Good Morning" to the lady who makes the gate go up by pressing my ID to the sensor. Up four flights of parking-- again certain that an earthquake will cause this parking structure to collapse. An elevator down to ground level.

On Friday, a carpenter taking the elevator with me. "I'm only in the elevator and I already want to go home." Over enthusiastic laugh from me.

I walk down "Gunsmoke Blvd" past writers bungalows and into my classroom that is (I can't stress how chilling this is for me) feet away from the Big Brother house. Bette Davis' shoeprints again.

So, wherever you go there you are. YOU being the operative word. Wherever I go there I AM AGAIN! With all my crap-- my smoking and my anxiety and my blue eyes and sense of humor. Here I go again on my own. But, I am not a drifter, and as much as I think I was born to walk alone-- I was not.

how could it hurt you when it looks so good?

Today is Oscar day and I shall be staying in my rented room in the Toluca Hills overlooking The Disney Channel building. I fear getting in my car to go anywhere as the city of Los Angeles has been turned upside down. I do feel it would be nice to celebrate amongst other people but its best to stay put. School starts tomorrow and I want to be sensible and responsible.

I did think perhaps it might be enjoyable to go to a gay bathhouse to enjoy the festivities. This might not be wise, seeing that I am currently enjoying a fantastic relationship with an Irishman whom I adore. I just thought it might be nice to be around naked gays and to be around water. However those gays and that water is filled with STD's and germs and I can't handle that right now. No time to get a case of the panty crickets!

Again, let's be sensible and responsible.

I saw "Wicked" with my mother. The opening night for LA. The glamourous Patricia Heaton was there in a green wrap dress. I passed her on the way to the men's room during intermission, she was talking to some children. She is the only celebrity I have seen in tinsel town. I expect to see more, but I must leave my apartment to do that. I am aware of that.

Madonna is in town, I hear. She has baby David and her husband in toe. Will she be making an appearance at the Kodak Theatre this evening? Hmmm... Where are Lourdes and Rocco? Left with a nanny I presume. Or locked in a kennel. One never knows. Anyway, I hear she is teaming with Dallas Austin of TLC fame for her new album. Sounds like a disaster to me but I will love the album like my child. I have always been there for every single one of her albums. Which one do I love the best? That question is so hard. They are like my children.

Things I have purchased while being in LA:

Some sort of Proactiv knock off
I have adult acne like Judith Light and Vanessa Williams and no one told me. I also have very dark skin on my face. I am not sure if it is sun damage or residue from smoking 100 cigarettes a day or what.
Cover Girl Concealer and Matte Foundation
Unwise in so many ways. It was a panicked purchase at the Target here. I am extremely self conscious of my face right now. See photoshopped drag queen picture below.
Self Tanning Lotion
Again. Out of control self conscious.
Febreeze
Because I am smoking a lot, all the time, everywhere.

But thats dumb to talk about. Hows about a video.

MANIC PANIC!

Don't think you've heard the last from me! I may be down, and I admit, I may have been down for a very very very very very longtime. I've been peeking in on all the nonsense with a rhinestoned eyelash and a glittering spray of blue eyeshadow. I've got a tall glass of ketel one and cranberry at my side and a bottomless pack of smooth turkish blend camels in my sequined clutch purse. I've been sitting on the other side of the gloryhole surveying the action and I ain't pleased.

Be on high alert. Tape up your windows, check your generator and get your canned goods in alphabetical order. Be prepared for an Act of God. I feel it coming on. If your dogs start barking and sniffing the ground you know I'm about to come strutting down your street in a gown made of Cabbage Patch Kids and a five foot wig that has its own ecosystem. I'll be lypsynching some Tina Turner with a chorus of muscle boys following faithfully at a respectful distance.

This isn't a test. Sometime, somewhere it's going to happen. Consider yourself warned.

dear diary

I appreciate being able to purchase singles again (via iTunes). For awhile we were forced to buy entire cd's. It sort of takes the fun out of a smartly produced bubblegum pop song when you have to be subjected to other songs that are clearly just there for filler. When you want to hear the deliciously candy coated "Oops!...I Did It Again" but don't want to hear Britney's inner dialogue in a throwaway song like "Dear Diary."

Hooray for cheap fun singles. Hooray for SexyBack. Hooray for Hey Ya! Hooray for Bad Day, the American Idol exit song. These songs will remind me of winter depression or summer drunkeness.

I was thinking about 45's I owned. I played them on my Fisher Price record player and then later, on a stereo system that I got from Santa Claus and lasted me until I was in high school.

45's I remember enjoying that eventually became unplayable.
Mickey by Toni Basil
Ghostbusters by Ray Parker Jr.
Physical by Olivia Newton-John
Cold Hearted Snake by Paula Abdul


And B-Sides! Vogue, one of Madonna's most singles was originally going to be a B-Side to "Keep It Together." Can you imagine?

I'm afraid my enthusiasm for this topic has been exhausted. I am officially sick, which is not fair. There were severeal weeks this winter when it was very trendy to be sick. As usual, I jumped on the bandwagon too late.

Just like with music. I was very afraid of Nirvana when they were popular. Kurt Cobain and the rest of them were children of the devil to me. Years later I purchased their albums and bought Kurt Cobain's diary (an innapropriate venture for Courtney Love, but fascinating nonetheless). I am a late bloomer in so many ways.

ans thoughts

I've been having a bit of writer's block. My mind has been in a holding pattern for quite some time now. In the words of the late great Anna Nicole when asked about her views on politics- "I know nothing about nothing." This is how I feel lately.

Thinking about Anna Nicole- I do agree that she was an odd character. As my mom said quoting my sister, "All the crayons are in the box but none of them are sharpened." (My mom also said that she saw a nice picture of ANS today without any of the "Marilyn Monroe curls" and that she thinks that the whole thing is sad.)

I don't agree that her crayons weren't sharpened. She seemed to get out of bed in the morning and wore clean clothes and brushed her teeth, which is more than I can say for myself most days. What was I trying to say before I started in on the self deprication? I was thinking back on the early days of her reality show and I remember sitting on a futon laughing my ass off. I don't think it was always at her. She seemed like she was in on the joke mostly. It was the people around her, Bobby Trendy, Howard K. Stern, Kim, etc that seemed the most depressing and fucked up.

I do think it's strange that wherever Howard K. Stern goes there seems to be someone dying of a drug overdose. Someone please take him away from that baby.

My gentleman companion was not as shaken up about her death as I was, however he did correctly assume that I might be depressed and braced me for the news which I appreciate. I guess I thought of her as an institution, someone who was permanent.

I'm not going to get all "Candle In The Wind" on your ass. I'm just talking it out.

Somersizin'

Suzanne Somers arrested for writing a bad check, 1979, San Francisco


I just got back from Walgreens. I had a little panic attack about going to LA. I think it just hit me that I am going. I feel like I shouldn't write it down- like it will jinx the trip. I shouldn't talk about it on my blog... NO MORE MAGICAL THINKING!! Conducting life in a metaphysical superstitious way is ridiculous. "I can't wear this because then this will happen," etc. No more of that for me and you too.

Anyway, so I had to go buy cigarettes at Walgreens. Walking there, freezing cold listening, to Dreamgirls soundtrack. One Night Only! One Night Only! Homeless man asks for money. "Help the homeless tonight?" Can't. Looked around for things to ease the anxiety. Bought cigarettes, Krunchers Jalepeno potato chips, Brownie Mix, Chocolate cake icing, Diet Pepsi and Prilosec for the acid reflux. Stopped at Blockbuster- tried so hard to find something to rent/buy. Nothing.
Took the #145 bus 3 blocks back to my house- couldn't possibly walk.

Got home and realized I didn't have 2 eggs or vegetable oil to make the brownies. That was okay because what I really wanted was my signature dish-


*****************************************
Clinical Depression Double Layer Jalepeno Delight

1 bag of Krunchers Jalepeno potato chips
1 bag of Chihahua Cheese (can substitute any meltable cheese)
1 microwavable bowl

Empty one half bag of chips into the microwavable bowl. Empty half bag of cheese on to the chips. Empty the rest of the bag of chips and top with remaing cheese. Microwave for 1.5-2 minutes. Eat with fingers.
*****************************************

Ate almost the whole bag. It did ease the anxiety (along with a "nerve pill").

But what's got me calmed down is watching Suzanne Somers sell her products on HSN. If you haven't heard, Suzanne's home in Malibu went up in flames!

Suzanne's statement? "My nature is to look at the glass half-full. I don't have a son or daughter in Iraq. I haven't lost a loved one. We will rebuild, and I truly believe we will learn something great from this experience."

I think we will all learn from this experience.

Right now, Suzanne is selling the facemaster!
"A more youthful, more toned version of you!"
"Catch things before they fall apart!"

A comment on the product from HSN.com forum member-
"A group of us tried this and it is a torture device! First we thought we had the intensity turned up too high. Even on the lowest intensity we were screaming in pain! The twitching/muscle spasms that occur when the probes are placed on different parts of the face is downright creepy, even your scalp/hair folicles twitch! The laughs we had at the face spasms bordered on hysteria and made us forget the pain for a bit. My friend says she''ll use it again. I''ll just watch her face twitch!" -Extremely Painful

*************************************************
An open letter to the author of this comment:

Dear Extremely Painful,
First of all beauty is not a party activity. When you mentioned "a group of us" tried the Facemaster I knew that you weren't serious about the Somersize program. As amusing and whimsical as Suzanne may present her products, beauty is not a party. Somersizing is not a walk in the park. Whining about pain doesn't get you anything. Beauty is painful. Suzanne's house just burned down!! You don't hear her griping about pain. Suzanne picks her self up, dusts her self off, shovels on some makeup and drags her products to HSN and she's working all day- a week after her beautiful Malibu compound went up in smoke.. She's a child of an alcoholic (as she mentions repeatedly on her HSN programs), but she is working her clickety click sculptured nails to the bone for us. Drop it!

Jeremy

cleaning out my closet

seventeen degrees outside. seventy seven degrees inside. it is difficult to moderate temperatures with a radiator. did i mention that grey gardens is a masterpiece playing nightly in nyc. i saw it with kara.


my response to the book lying by lauren slater for creative non-fiction:

One thing that struck me most in Slater’s book was her discussion about “falling.” I underlined this passage in my book:

I think secretly each and every one of us longs to fall, and knows in a deep wise place in our brains that surrender is the means by which we gain, not lose our lives…We want to go down, and it hurts to fight the force of gravity. (Slater 51)

I have been practicing falling my whole life. I am constantly having big dramatic breakdowns in my life (sometimes self induced, sometimes not). I spend days, weeks, months recovering from some overblown tragedy. A comment that someone made, a breakup, a bad grade, etc. The world cracks into a “million little pieces” and I have to pick it all up and start all over again, always on the look out for the next fall. It always catches me off guard and down I go.

My goal is to be able to get up quicker, less bruised. I want to work through the drama and get on with it. I must be getting something out of putting myself through it. Perhaps it’s safe to me, a song and dance I’ve grown accustomed to. I’m sick of it frankly, and I’m trying not to let stuff get to me. But it’s hard when you’ve grown accustomed to the game of falling.

Wisdom from my father:

Wisdom from Tony Wells:

(some I adhere to, some I do not)

1. Don’t leave the knife with peanut butter in the sink.

2. If you are going to clean something clean it all the way- don’t half ass it.
-Like if you’re going to vacuum, get every single piece of dust or dirt off of the floor or what’s the point? Even if it means picking microsopic pieces of dirt up by hand.

3. Don’t waste time watching a movie you’ve already seen.
-Everytime we went to the video store, I would want to rent “9 to 5” and I would
have to go through a lot of red tape to get my way. But I got it.

4. Joan Crawford said “No Wire Hangers, Ever!” For my dad it’s “No Candles, Ever!”
-To my dad, candles are the work of the devil. He recently confessed that he had a stash of candles that he would steal from my room. He did not tell me where they were, and I suspect I will never know.

5. Anyone and everyone is worth talking to and making friends with.
-My dad is the most generous and understanding person. He can talk to anyone and has the most forgiving heart. He rarely ever gossips or puts anyone down behind there back. Rather, he tries to understand where they are coming from or just accepts them for who they are. This is the most important lesson I’ve learned from my father.

6. Mayonaisse and ketchup mixed together is the perfect sauce for fish.
-I thought my dad invented this.

7. Woody Allen is annoying.

something new

things someone said that have been echoing in my mind lately

"what's more pathetic- having talent and no ambition? or ambition and no talent?"
something about, "...people who peak in high school"
in business "you always need a product"

why do these statements echo in my mind so much.

the plan for the day:

1. Plan something to do while I'm in LA, Feb 1- Feb 4
2. Get outside, no matter how cold.
3. Call therapist and make an appointment.
4. Add more videos to The Jeremy Show Video Vault.
5. Maybe try to get Wicked tickets!
6. Fuck if I know.

eat

i just devoured 2 grilled cheeses with ham, prepared on my george foreman grill (christmas present from my sister). on the side i had ranch dipping sauce for the sandwiches. i have been very into dipping sauces lately. yesterday, i had a late lunch with my man companion erik at burger king. i had a chicken sandwich with onion rings. i dipped my onion rings AND my sandwich in the onion ring sauce. im feeling the need to lubricate bread lately-- too dry. i am becoming very neurotic with bread. i remember there was some girl on montel once that had a fear of bread. i now have this fear. i feel like its always on the verge of becoming moldy. i can never finish a loaf of bread. i use 2-4 slices and then feel like the rest is contaminated and it goes in the garbage. i feel safe when the bread is toasted (as in the aforementioned sandwiches). golly, this is not what i came to write about.

drawerful of pantyhose

we all got problems. it's backbreaking being alive. you try to clean it all up. clean your apartment, do the dishes, do laundry, go grocery shopping. the next day you have to do it all over again. its madness. all with a smile on your face and a "i'm doing pretty good." and we're all not. we're all doing terrible. we're all treading water.

everythings dirty. everything is a big mess. i guess this is when im supposed to have kids and all of the petty things just slip away. the only thing that matters is my baby. well i cant have no baby! im sorry. im a fag. im gay. having a baby would be a disaster. and what do i leave to the world? ugh! to think of my personal effects at a thrift store with old ladies and hipsters picking through them. disgusting. they'd lift one of my sweaters to their nose and smell stale smoke and move on. as they should.

let me tell you. im trying to be semi healthy. for me that means making sure i eat before 5. most days i wait until i feel like im going to pass out. then i overcompensate by having a disgusting plate of starch and cheese and then i pass out into a carb induced coma. im barely alive. fueled only by nicotine and caffeine. not to mention a laundry list of psychotropic medicine that would make elvis nervous. this is the hand i was dealt. or that i dealt myself or a combination of the two. i dont remember how i got here.

so many birthdays and holidays and babies. i cant keep up! so sick and tired of pretending, putting on a celebratory show. what would be the perfect gift, the perfect surprise to show i care? enough already. stop the world i want to get off! truer words were never spoken. who created this merry go round? time to throw all my crap off the balcony into the dumpster and scrounge up some money, hop on a plane to asia or india or africa and disappear amongst diseased poultry.

i want simple. i want to clear the surfaces. nothing but an ashtray, a glass of water and a pen and pencil. i dont need all this crap: blank dvds, prom pictures, a library of books with overt or subtle homoerotic tones. why do i have to store all this? who am i storing it for. for reference? what am i referencing? what am i ultimately doing with all this garbage???

from real simple, march edition:

"master bedroom"

PICK AND CHOOSE: Furniture that didn't match (and not in an interesting, eclectic way ) and shelves overflowing with DVD's and books gave the room a garage-sale look. Getting rid of the dresser and and two bookcases was a start. Felicia relocated some things and tossed the rest. 'I work at home now' says Felicia, a scrapbooking consultant. 'Why do I need a drawerful of pantyhose?"



Felicia seems to be getting her shit together and so should I. But I rented two movies from Blockbuster (not to mention four movies that I already have out from Netflix and a bunch I bought during several Best Buy blitzes over Christmas) and somehow that takes priority over everything. I guess I feel like if I watch these movies I might have the chance of connecting with or escaping into a fantasy world.

And that's what it all comes down to. Fantasy. What sort of fantasy am I living in? Why can't I just stare my life right into the eyes and say, "Mister you got a big mess to contend with. Some animal, some cat got in to your life and puked up hairballs all over the carpet and it's time to clean it up."

www.thejeremyshow.com

from the jeremy show vault

Here are some never before read blog posts from the jeremy show vault...


blocked
8/16/06

Hey listen folks I'm just up on the third floor drinking a slimfast and feeling shitty. I guess it boils down to work. I am pissed off that I have no money but I have made no attempt to find work.

I don't want to work at an irritating coffee shop. I wouldn't mind getting the random hot guys latte. It's the training and the names of blends and roasts and coffeephilia that really gets under my skin. Blechh.

I don't want to work at an office. Lots of negative energy all around. Ladies waiting to get married or waiting to get divorced.

dreaming of bush
9/25/06
i dreamt i was taking a class and was not getting along with a teacher. i didnt have the right book and was trying to tell the teacher and he didnt give a shit. i went to talk to the principal (played by president bush). he gave me a big hug. he was very understanding at first (and suprisingly sexy) but he turned on me. telling me i was not smart and that my whole college career had been a lie. i left his office. i tried to explain all this to kara and she turned on me too. so i cut the top of my left hand in protest with a bread knife. it started bleeding really badly and looked like chopped meat (probably because i had steak for dinner). we both freaked out and went next door to her neighbors. coincidentally there were paramedics at her neighbors house that bandaged up my hand.

i think i had this dream because i had two pieces of steak for dinner.

untitled
10/19/06

Dear dear readers,

I am so sorry I have neglected you. I have been so busy going to school, doing homework and sleeping. You know how I get this time of the year.

Right now I'm listening to Janet Jackson's fabulous new album 20 Y.O. Janet is not 20 years old. It has been 20 years since she released "Control." It's pretty good. I am also enjoying Justin Timberlake's new album. Sexy in a Jackson wannabe sort of way.

What are you gonna fix?
10/23/06

feeling ill since last night. got all queasy. erik lovingly served me a hot pocket for energy, at my request. it helped a little. we watched the rest of truth or dare and then i went to bed. i decided last night that i simply did not have enough strength to go to my 1:00 class. exhausted and dramatic.

thought i had a terrible fever. discovered that it was my radiator on full blast.

Another Very Merry Christmas Jeremy Show Special

Hello and welcome to Another Very Merry Christmas Jeremy Show Special. I hope your enjoying the holiday as much as I am. I have a great evening planned for all of us with Christmas tips, lots of fabulous guests and imaginary food and drinks. Thanks for stopping by, I think you'll be glad you did.

Let's start with a holiday tip.

I can't remember where I heard this but this is the best advice I ever heard about surviving the holidays. Ready, here it is-- Expect Nothing. Whether it's love, acceptance, approval, good food, good sex or simply a nice time you expect this Christmas- It is not guaranteed.

We all have very elaborate plans and fantasies about the way things should go during the holidays. Not to be a Scrooge, but many of these plans and fantasies won't go the way we imagined them. That's ok though.

Christmas can be a very magical time. It is not based in reality-- it is a wonderful magical imaginative place in our mind where elves build toys and men climb down chimneys. It is linked to our imaginations when we were children. I think this is why it can be so emotional.

So my goal this Christmas is to expect nothing, to try to control nothing. I will look at the pretty lights, watch some movies, be with my family, maybe have a few drinks and let the snowflakes fall where they fall. Adopting this very zen attitude about Christmas has saved me from setting a few Christmas trees on fire.

On that note, I would like to introduce my first guests- The Pet Shop Boys singing "It Doesn't Often Snow At Christmas." Take it away Elton...



Now it's time for a Christmas Recipe from my kitchen to yours. I actually make this spicy, greasy delicious dish myself. Feel free to use it as a delicious addition to your Christmas table.

--------------------------------------
Clinical Depression Double Layer Jalepno Delight

1 bag of Krunchers Jalepeno potato chips
1 bag of Chihahua Cheese (can substitute any meltable cheese)
1 microwavable bowl

Empty one half bag of chips into the microwavable bowl. Empty half bag of cheese on to the chips. Empty the rest of the bag of chips and top with remaing cheese. Microwave for 1.5-2 minutes. Eat with fingers.
--------------------------------------

No Christmas is complete without a visit from Judy Garland. This clip makes me tear up thinking about the ridiculous amount of soldiers that are in Iraq away from their families for absolutely no reason. I don't normally think of such things, but I've taken a step away from the Rosie Trump scandal to think about something more important for a change. Hopefully, "Next year all our troubles will be miles away." I send them Christmas greetings. I don't know if they want my faggoty Jeremy Show Christmas greetings, but they have them if they want them. Anyway, here is a great clip of Judy with clips of soldjas.



If you want, write a letter to a soldier.

Well, time for my special gentleman to pick me up on his sleigh and take me over the river and through the woods to my parents house. I really do wish you a really great Christmas and remember to chill out, be zen, and just enjoy the break.

I thought we'd drop in on Joan Crawford and see what's going on at her house during the holidays.

Merry Christmas
Jeremy

gifts

Like most people, Christmas for me is all about celebrity endorsed products. That is why I was very excited when I saw the ad for the perfume, "Danielle." It's a literary scent. This year, Danielle has been in her laboratory creating an olifactory story. A novel for the nose!

The perfect gift for me is always going to be found on either HSN, QVC or the "As Seen On TV" section. I have been eyeing Pamela Anderson's teeth whitening system all year at my local Walgreens. Suzanne Somers sells frozen steaks on QVC. Also (as mentioned above) any perfume sold by a celebrity is a good idea when shopping for me- Britney Spears' "Curious," J.Lo's "Glow," or Antonio Banderas' "Spirit." I plan to create a shelf or a special area to display these unusual bottles in my apartment.

Confessions Tour

For a pre thanksgiving treat, NBC has Madonna's Confession's Tour on at 7 PM tonight. Just wanted to remind you, fire up your Betamax's and DVR's!!

My favorite song from the show was "Like A Virgin." It was the song I could most easily relate to, as I am still a virgin. I am saving myself until I am able to get married legally. So that's hard.

the price is right

I recently was involved in a discussion about "The Price is Right" with Andy and Rob. Andy and Rob both said that show reminded them of staying home sick when they were little.

Although I do have memories of watching The Price Is Right as a child home from school, I surround myself with television shows that remind me of staying home sick all the time. I record these shows-- The View, Live With Regis and Kelly, Martha, etc--- because they make me feel safe.

I listen to Madonna, Bette Midler, Dolly Parton, because they remind me of better times in my life. As I imagine the oldies channel reminds my mother of the same.

In a sense, I have been staying home sick (metaphorically) for a long time. Distanced from those who are out living. I don't have any immediate plans to change this, but I thought I'd make a note of it. Maybe explore it further...

How strange it all seems. Everyday. This is my life. This is my life. My name is Jeremy. I am Jeremy.

YOU GET NOTHING! Hahahaha

Crazy faggot walking the streets of Chicago in bad clothes smoking cigarettes. That's what I am. Sleepwalking. That's what it feels like. Can't form sentences.

I came home, watched my shows, made a peanut butter and jelly sandwich x2 and carrot sticks and ranch dressing. Feeling very empty and angry at the same time. I came across a picture of Bette Davis and I thought, yes! I need Bette Davis right now. So, I go to youtube, and found another compilation by the genius vj Danorama and I am instantly happy. It contains scenes from a movie called "Dead Ringer," which I have been trying to remember the name of for about a year now. And...and...JAN HOOKS's fantastic portrayal of her videotaped will on Saturday Night Live.

I also need more JAN HOOKS in my life. Back to basics. If you were me you would be watching this right now.

NUMB

Really great Pet Shop Boys video of my favorite song off their newish album. I think it perfectly sums up the political winter we have all been living in. It's springtime now-- hopefully. Ok, I'll shut up now.

grandma

He felt sick when he woke up, which wasn't unusual, hadn't been unusual for awhile now. He laid in bed for about an hour thinking of things.

He thought about his grandmother. Specifically, he thought about walking to his grandmother's house for lunch. He had special permission in junior high to do this. Knowing his limits, knowing what he could and could not handle, he had arranged it. He had received special permission to leave school for lunch. Certainly his mother must have been involved at some point in the negotiations, but he was pretty sure that he had been the primary dealmaker. He had tried. He had tried to make friends at the school. No he had not, he thought, still lying in bed feeling sick. He had not tried to make friends at school. He had not tried hard enough. A fat buck toothed boy, he was. An immigrant from California to a small town in Illinois.

His mind wandered. He remembered his attempts at making friends. Telling jokes that other sixth grade boys would not get. Jokes he had heard on Joan Rivers comedy albums that he had checked out over the summer from the library. These were not the kind of jokes that sixth grade boys were going to understand or appreciate. He cringed in his bed thinking about it. Why was he putting himself through this again? Worrying about what these boys were thinking about him? This was in the past. These boys were now working at insurance companies and construction sites. These boys now had one or two kids. By now, these boys had cheated on their wives once or twice. Maybe divorced. Maybe not. These boys had one or two DUI's. One or two of them had had a cock in their mouths at one point. One or two cocks, maybe. Two cocks, maybe, at the same time. Or maybe that was him, maybe he was that boy.

His glands felt swollen and he had a dry mouth this morning. He was half in and half out of the past. He smoked a cigarette, half asleep. Thinking about his grandmother. Specifically, he thought about the path that he took to get to his grandmother's house for lunch. "The shortest distance between two points is a straight line," he had learned in school. So he took this straight line from his junior high school, cutting through two backyards. His grandmother's house was not far away from the school.

What bothered him this morning was that he did not say hello enough to his grandmother enough. Why couldn't he just have said hello? It seemed that she was always doing laundry in the basement when he would come over for lunch. He was too concerned with the thirty minutes he had to make his peanut butter and jelly sandwich and watch the "The Match Game." He could have gone down there in the basement to say hello. She would ultimately come up to him from the basement to the kitchen to say hello. Knees disintegrating under polyester pants as she climbed the stairs carefully and methodically. Two minutes to climb the fifteen steps, it took her. He would be eating his sandwich by then, watching a gameshow on her tiny black and white television near the kitchen table. Hearing her ascent, this is what really bothered him, hearing her careful climb up the steps he would just rather she stay down there. Why even bother? He would just rather be left to watch "The Match Game."

"Ugly Sue was so ugly that when she got married she wore a blank." He loved this show. Not so much for the game but for the wacky celebrities. He loved celebrity. The celebrity panel was filled with B-List stars like Vicki Lawrence and Judy Tenuta and Nipsey Rusell. These stars were more important to him then his grandmother.

But as he lay in his bed, at the age of thirty, it was not the Match Game that was so important anymore (still a little important, he did wonder why they didn't play this version on the Game Show Network). But as he lay in bed at the age of thirty, what he really wished for was to say hello to his grandmother.

The last he remembered of his grandmother was visiting her in the nursing home shortly after September 11th and shortly before her death. His father was trying to explain the gravity of recent current events. "We have been attacked," he said to his dying mother, "the country is being attacked." This was of little concern to his grandmother. He remembered that she was very concerened with candy. He remembered that she had asked for candy or cake. Sweet things. They all laughed it off.

"Give her the candy. Give her the cake," he thought this morning with the dry mouth and the swollen glands. And fuck his memories of boys in junior high and his stupid homoerotic predictions on what they were doing now. Hello Grandma.