2003-07-03 - 11:46 a.m.

Hey weiners. I can't believe I'm back from vacay alread! It was pretty perfect. Just me & Sydney, reading & Scrabbing it up, & smoking & drinking, & mostly lying very very still in one spot & then another. When we first got there we'd been up since 3 something a.m. & so I just got high & hung out for a while then had to go to bed. I got in bed & the lower part of the wall is just screened in window & it's full of blue ocean. That's it, all you see when you lie in bed & look through the headboard out the window. And I was going to sleep & in my mind the sound of the ocean became a laugh track that was supposed to be people laughing at me? Someone really needed a vacation.

I read 2 Buffy books (Monster Island is fantastic for B/A fans), the new Gregory Maguire which is called "Mirror, Mirror" & is about Snow White & I loved it - I think it's due out in August, "Blanche Passes Go" which was the one Blanche book I hadn't read & is just a fantastic piece of feminist literature that would make anyone feel empowered but especially victims of abuse, Angela Carter's short stories "Strangers & Saints" which was sometimes awesome & sometimes impenetrable, & Marianne Faithfull's autobiography. It made me love her a lot. I loved that throughout all this fucked up craziness that was constantly going on, she & Anita Pallenberg remained friends & there's a fairly recent picture of them together in the pics section. The book was from '94 & I hope she'll do another one.

The last night we were there was the first night of lobster season. The sisters at the restaurant we go to didn't know if they'd have any lobster. Then we went to check & they did, & they'd saved 2 for us! Amazing. It was so much, we both could hardly finish it. We drank lots of Red Stripes & I had lots of Peanut Punch plus one Dirty Banana.

I went in the water a few times. I was afraid sharks would come because of my period. Sydney was the only person I asked & she just would say "I don't think so" or stuff like that that wasn't really a scientific explanation of impossibility. I know they come miles away because they smell blood & didn't they attack people in five feet of water the other summer?

On the plane going there, I watched "How to Lose a Guy In Ten Days." Oh. My. God. Is she retarded? Is HE? I'm sure you can imagine how terrible it was. Can you imagine how hard the people all around us were laughing? REALLY hard. Kate Hudson should never ever act again, even in like a small local theater company. Not even in like a family skit. Why did "family skit" even come to me - not an idea that should exist. Oh, the worst thing was that she was bad in the movie because she was a Writer, but she's toiling away at a women's magazine that is all only about makeup & stuff & she wants to write about politics & religion. So her job is beneath her, & her arc includes quitting to go do real Writing. HE, on the other hand, is an ad exec & this is apparently righteous work even though the whole time he was trying to get a diamond account. Um. A diamond account. Sickening. Yeah, fashion magazines help get women to starve themselves & submit to abusive relationships. But - promoting & wearing diamonds is ok? Much more directly murderous & sickening. It's weird the random "social issues" taken on by retarded movies.

I'm done with that. The only big news I came home to were the facts that a new, extraordinarily delicate form of lace has been created, that will be named for Lloyd; & Nick is going to be knighted sometime within the next year. OH! And there's a reality show coming up where the prize is a fantasy wedding created by Colin Cowie. I wish it was a fantasy wedding TO Colin Cowie. I would be up for that shit for sure. I had all these good ideas on vacation about a show with Cowie & Busey. Awesome, right? I wish I'd written them all down. I imagine each show ending in the steam room, like on Glick.

I liked Bob Oedenkirk's patriotic song where he said "the flag's got a gun & it's ridin' a shark..." I wish that described me.

Ok. Here is some free advice from me to big ol' you. If you are in the Negril airport & have some hours before your flight & you need to eat because airplane food makes you super angry & nauseous, go to that fast food place that is outside customs. Ok? Don't go through customs, because you'll have the gross sandwich place that you have been burned by too many times, & you have the cookie place, & you have the cart that acts like it has pizza but then there's never any pizza. You know where you're going to end up going. Even though you've been burned before, you're going to go to Margaritaville. And you're going to order something like nachos that they shouldn't be able to fuck up. And it is going to be a plate of nauseating raunch. And you're going to sit for so fucking long trying to eat it & watching Jimmy Buffett videos that are from the 80s, then the 90s, then the 70s, & you can't look away because it's always newly terrible. And your placemat will list all the other Jamaica locations of Margaritaville restaurants including one where you can "enjoy your cheeseburger in paradise in the hot tub!" Oh. my GOD - restaurants shouldn't have hot tubs, hot tubs shouldn't have cheeseburgers, Jimmy Buffett should not have restaurants, I SHOULD NOT HAVE GONE INTO MARGARITAVILLE A SECOND TIME IN MY LIFE WHEN I KNOW BETTER. The drive home was Sydney & me singing Eddie Money's Two Tickets to Cheeseburgers in Paradise & Sydney telling me to pack a bathing suit & napkin because she won't have me dirtying up the hot tub in paradise.

I can't think about Buffett anymore. I just have to think about Red Stripe & dope & lobster & all the hot sharks that want to eat me out.

*perv* *next*