Another week into 2020 and here we are. I cannot express to you how boring my life is right now. I cook, I sleep, I work, I write. Rinse. Repeat. My social life has taken a real hit. And by real hit, I mean it’s non-existent. On one hand it’s quite relieving to say no to everything and on the other hand, I feel as if a flame inside of me has been snuffed and there isn’t a match in sight to light it. On a creative level, however, I feel more magical than ever and that fills my heart with life. A different kind of fire – an ember none the less. I will say the hermit life is lucrative, so I’ve got that going for me. My neighbors continue to stomp everywhere in what sounds like…wooden clogs? Perhaps they are Dutch. Who knows. They took a different approach and woke me up the other morning by whistling ‘Day-O’ – the Beetlejuice song. Lunatics. Who knows what they’ll come up with next, honestly. It’s been a minute since their last day-rave. I’m sure it’s on the horizon.
The Oscar noms are out and HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA J-LO!!!! Oh, am I terrible? Or right? It’s not like she’s ever gonna read this anyway. I honestly should just start talking random shit about people to see who is actually reading this. I don’t edit myself often but maybe I should rip off the filter entirely and just let all hell break loose. Anyways, if we wanna talk about snubs – Greta Gerwig, Adam Sandler, Awkwafina – sure. Yes, they got the shaft. J-Lo? Not so much. Sorry gal. If you want an award for looking that good at 50, yes, you deserve every single trophy there is. Real talk, your work in The Wedding Planner was better than this. Your work in Hustlers didn’t hold a flame to Selena. I’ve seen better Hallmark movies. And don’t even get me started on Once Upon a Time in Hollywood. If it weren’t for my friend being in it, the last 30 minutes and Brad Pitt taking his shirt off, I’d throw it in the garbage and light it on fire. It was two hours too long And WE GET IT, Quentin, YOU LIKE FEET. We all get it and we’re all over it. I can’t be alone on this. All I’m saying is if anyone else directed this, they wouldn’t be getting the bravo he is getting…and if Greta Gerwig directed this, she wouldn’t even be nominated. I rest my case. NEXT!
There’s this post that’s gone viral of the man who proposed to his girlfriend with a box that had six different rings in it. Girls are going nuts over it and I’m just sitting over here like – so this guy couldn’t figure out what ring to get, panicked, went for a top 6 and somehow that’s sexy? I don’t think so. I am so confused. I don’t need options. LOVE ME LIKE YOU KNOW ME. I don’t need you making me six different omelettes each morning – ain’t nobody got time for that. You couldn’t even get it down to a top 3? He may as well have opened a box with a giftcard in it which is what you get people when you have no idea what they like or what they’re about – which is fine if it’s for your maintenance man, landlord, client or a white elephant gift, but not when this is the person you’re supposed to spend the rest of your life with. KNOW THE ONE YOU’RE WITH. I can only imagine their sex life. Gross.
Moving on…I’ve been spending a lot of time in the kitchen as of late. Made a casserole the other night which boasted a 10 minute prep time. 10 minutes…easy peezy. HUGE EYE ROLL. I don’t know where theses people come up with these times or perhaps they have professional minions chopping all of their vegetables (that’s a direct quote from Caitlin J. Bellotti, formerly Tierney) but it was not 10 minutes. It wasn’t 30 minutes. How am I supposed to live my life accordingly when a 10 minute casserole is not so? Not that I can afford any type of social life at this juncture in time but WHAT IF I COULD? I get lied to all the time, I don’t need my recipes joining in the crusade. It was like a online dating all over again. Presented itself as one thing and ended up being quite another. If I had known how much work it would end up being, I wouldn’t have started. If I’d known you had 5 years of pent up angst going on with your ex, BRIAN, I wouldn’t have traipsed all the way into the Valley on a Thursday in full makeup. Forever hoodwinked. So cooking is fun.
Santa got me a 23andMe kit. It is sitting on my couch. I look at it from time to time. I can’t bring myself to actually do it. I’m not afraid of the results. But you know me and that little box sends my mind into a splatter of conspiracy theories. What if they take my DNA and plant it at a crime scene or what if they clone me or what if they sell my DNA to the highest bidder? – I mean who knows who would want it but I know psychos exist and they’re out there and some mass murderer is going to bust into the lab, steal my info and then frame me for all the bloodshed. I know…try living in my head for a single day – it’s brutally exhausting…and this is me sober. Cheers to all you still imbibing. I live vicariously through you, magical sunsets and the embers in my veins. Until next time…xx