A few quick hits.
Kanye West is officially, certifiably insane. The man is incredibly talented-- love the songs I've heard, sure, yeah, whatever. And the whole giving-himself-props thing? That used to be fresh. I used to like it... it let us know he cared, that he was a hard worker, all that. He stood out for that and other (mostly stylistic) reasons... and standing out is always a good thing.
But now... the man is simply annoying. And you can smell the backlash, just around the corner. If you haveen't already seen five hundred iterations of this same speech, watch Kanye's latest, as he angrily demands the Grammys that are rightfully his, and discusses the "classics" he has already offered us.
Poor transition here, I know... but forgive me. Kanye talks about race, and so does John Smallwood. Read an unusually strong column in defense of Donovan McNabb (sorta) here.
Woke up to another quasi-ding email this morning, this time from Amy (the Jewish Film Festival chick).
She told me that she's just too busy to date right now, though she did suggest that we stay in touch so that when things get easier for her, we can go out again.
I don't know what to make of that. I don't know whether I should care, one way or the other. Thanks for letting me know... I guess? Thoughts?
In my "one woman out the door, one woman in the door" kind of life... I heard from an old friend yesterday. Now, she's married and has a 2-year-old son, so it's not quite the same thing... but it was great to finally talk with Karyn Price (Suffredini) yesterday.
She sounds like she's in a great place right now, professionally and personally, and... it was just really good to catch up with her, as it always is.
After speaking with Karyn, the night quickly went downhill. Allow me to explain.
At about 7pm or so, I drove over to Chris' place for a night with the guys. Chris' friend Ben was there, and Jeff made an appearance.
As did Captain Morgan.
Now, it's been a long time since I've had anything other than beer or wine... I just don't do the hard stuff anymore. No particular reason why... it's just not my thing, I guess.
Last night may have been a reminder why that is.
I don't know if Chris was kidding when he said this, but it may as well have been the case, that I apparently drank 3 (fairly strong, I'd say) rum and cokes in about 45 minutes. Now, I've always been a fast, not particularly smart drinker, and last night... last night was a wonderful example of this.
We sat down to watch Anchorman for the hundredth time... always funny, right?
Anchorman is nowhere near as funny when you are (literally) seeing two Ron Burgundys on screen at all times. I don't know that I've ever actually seen double before. But last night I drank too much, too fast, and on an empty stomach. And in order to watch a single Will Ferrell... I had to look out of only one eye at a time. I wonder if any of the guys may have looked over at me at some point during the night, only to see me squinting like some kind of pirate.
Well, if they did, that's the reason.
By the time our food came, it was too late. I was a goner. And though it may have been the single greatest food item (stromboli) I've ever had... well, let's just say we (I) had a bit of an accident with the sauce that accompanied said stromboli. Thank God for Chris (and his infinite patience with me), and thank God for OxyClean. The stuff really does work wonders on carpets.
At some point last night, I had a cigarette for the first time in what may have been... what, 10 years, maybe? Perhaps that tells you where I was at (as if you need more of a picture painted for you).
Noel came home as we were watching the Tenacious D DVD for the umpteenth time, and thankfully was not judgmental. Nor did she notice the stain, which by that time had gone away (again, thank you Chris, OxyClean).
She did tell me I was more than welcome to spend the night... and I should have taken her up on it. But I honestly thought that, at that point, I was completely fine.
Luckily, I got home without incident... or even close to an incident. But by the time I got into bed, and when I woke up this morning... I knew I shouldn't have driven last night. It's not a decision I'll make again, hopefully. So next time, I crash at Adams' place.
No sickness, just stupidity.
And some pretty damned horrific dreams. I don't know whether one had anything to do with the other, but when I woke up this morning to realize that (a) I hadn't cost my friends their house, and that (b) my family wasn't angry at me (let's just leave it there, shall we?)...
I was quite relieved.
Thank goodness for the snowstorm. Being outside at 7am, shoveling after having walked the dog... I think the fresh air did more for my hangover than the coffee and the pills alone would have done.
I'm feeling better now... but I was thinking when I got up that the whole day could have easily been a wash.