I hope you’re all wearing red today… but it’s not just National Go Red for Women Day, it’s also National Hug a Jew Day!  Find yourself a huggable Jew and give ‘em a squeeze.

So, Hilary set me up for this interview dealie with CBS-TV.  Suffice it to say that I was a little nervous — if the prospect of being on national TV wasn’t daunting enough, I also wanted to make sure that I was well-spoken and also said things in such a way that they couldn’t misquote me or punch in (or out) at an inopportune time and make me look like an ass on TV (as if I need any help with that).  It actually turned out to be pretty low-key, with just the cameraman showing up — the producer asked me questions over a speakerphone, and the cameraman set up a light, with a piece of paper with a smiley face on it taped to the pole for me to focus on so it would look like I was being interviewed by someone just off-camera.  That said, I also had a bit of an audience, since CBS wanted to tape at my office so they could shoot footage of me working on a desktop computer, so a few people gathered to watch while the whole thing was going down.  So when I said something like “It’s not my place to tell them to get off,” leave it to one of my friends to burst into laughter and say, “You said ‘get off.’”

I work with 9-year-olds.  And I couldn’t be happier, especially since I’m one of the instigators.  And today is Thursday, which we’ve declared Sexual Harassment Day — not anything having to do with prevention, Thursdays are the day when we specifically try to commit sexual harassment… though sometimes it spills over into Friday as well.

You know you’re in Los Angeles when they ask for a photo ID at the gym, and the woman in front of you hands the gym employee a headshot.  Pretentious much?

Quick hits:
- Note to self:  Know your audience.  When you tell a woman you feel like you got blitzed at work today, chances are they will probably think you are talking about the “I got drunk beyond the capacity to stand up or keep from embarrassing myself” meaning of the term, not the football play.  But after spending literally 2 hours straight on the phone today, doing 6 straight interviews, I felt like I’d been taken out by an offensive line and my brain had been sacked.
- Speaking of interviews, thanks to the awesome Hilary passing my name along, I’m going to be interviewed early next week by CBS for a segment they’re doing for The Early Show.  My world domination continues with national TV exposure, bwahahahahahaha… Details to come.
- Speaking of performances, I went to see a co-worker perform in a play tonight, and I felt a little pang of having not done acting on a stage for 10 years.  I did some shows with a couple of singing groups since then, and I’ve done a bunch of speaking engagements and presentations since then, but I haven’t done any more acting, as much as I enjoyed it when I did it.  My co-worker said I ought to join his acting class, and it’s been kicking around my head, though it’s not like I don’t have any other unfinished tasks to take care of, like the guitar sitting in my living room…
- The insomnia is slightly back, so I’ve had to up the dosage, so to speak — if not for caffeine, I’d be a gelatinous mush right now.  The one good thing is that there’s plenty on TiVo for me to catch up on, since there are actually shows on TV I want to see — plus, the writer’s strike is giving me a chance to catch up on some older shows I hadn’t seen all the episodes of.  Not that I wouldn’t be happy to have my new ones back… though I’m pretty damn excited about Jericho‘s return next month.

After talking to a friend last week about The 25th Hour, it happened to be on tonight — so I watched, having not seen the movie in a few years.  One thing I’ve always liked about Spike Lee movies is how he makes New York City a character… it’s so woven into the film that there’s no other city he could’ve set it in.  Naturally, it made me miss New York again… I had visions of being out early on a great spring morning in Central Park.  And it makes me realize that it really is true what Brian Cox’s character says in the movie — being a New Yorker is something that’s in your bones.  You can leave the city, but it never leaves you.  Even after having lived out in Los Angeles for six years, people still ask me upon meeting me if I’m from New York.  It’s like I emanate the essence of the city or something.  Maybe that’s why, despite my time here and the fact that I’ve built a pretty good life here, I’m still reticent to call L.A. “home.” It just doesn’t feel entirely right.

Despite that, though… I’m still a Patriots fan, and I’ll be screaming at the TV in their favor and against the Giants when the Super Bowl comes in two weeks.

Dear Anonymous Fucko,

You think you’re sooooo clever, leaving all those comments and insults?  Whatever.  You’re just showing how much of a pussy you are.  It’s so easy to sit behind a wall of anonymity and sling shit with stupid fake names and e-mail addresses.  If I’m going to insult someone — and trust me, part of my job is to mock people, and I do it on a daily basis — then put your real name behind it.  I always do.  If you’re not even willing to put your name on what you say, then it’s worthless.  And so are you.

On top of which, if you so readily believe that what I write is so boring and I’m not that clever, then why are you spending so much time and energy here?  Obviously, something about what I write matters so much to you that you feel the need to expend effort on it.  Quite frankly, it’s a big Internet, there’s obviously other places you could go if you don’t like what you see here.  Because you’re not welcome here, and if you hate this site so much, then leave.  Don’t let the door hit you in your bitter, jealous ass on your way out.

So Nicole and I are running our own little hardcore campaign that arose out of some passing discussions of Life, The Universe & Everything last week, and the campaign is simply this:  Nut up in ‘08.  It flows nicely, yet it has such a direct message.  It’s time for us to nut up and get our crap together and realize that we are kickass people, so eff everyone who thinks otherwise.  He’s/she’s just not that into us?  He/she can suck it.  We are awesome, and if people can’t recognize that, they are unworthy of our time and effort.  Last night was the inaugural run, and I’ve got to say that it honestly does work.  Life’s tough, and now we have helmets.

Nicole is printing t-shirts.  And discussions are underway to jointly write a book, tentatively titled Nutting Up: Telling People To Suck It When They’re Not That Into You.  Please feel free to join us and our cause. 

Nut up in ‘08!

I think I may have to break up with my doctor.

I’ve always had kind of a weird relationship with doctors since I went to college and left behind my family doctor back home.  My dad’s a doctor and (in my extremely humble opinion) a really great one, and he always knew who the good doctors were in the area and, when I needed to see someone, would be able to get me an appointment with someone competent who he trusts (especially given the nightmare stories he’s told me about some of his former co-workers).  But Dad’s eight hours away and doesn’t know anyone in Los Angeles, and I need someone here I can just call and see if I’m not feeling well.

So I’ve had this one doctor who I’ve been going to for the last six years.  He came recommended by one of my co-workers when I first moved here, and I figured since I don’t get sick all that often, it’s fine that I just have a guy who I’ve established as My Doctor.  Except the past few times I’ve been to see him, I get the feeling like he’s almost following the rules of that book He’s Just Not That Into You, hence the reasoning why I’m feeling like it’s time to finally break up with him.  For example, when I first started getting sick last Wednesday, I didn’t have anything in my head except for symptoms that matched strep throat, so I went in Wednesday morning for a strep test.  I found out later that now they have rapid strep tests that can give you results within 15 minutes but no — this guy had one of his assistants stick that swab down my throat, then he quickly popped in to tell me he wouldn’t get the results back for 2 days and began walking back out of the room.  He didn’t volunteer anything else, I had to ask him, “Well, what do I do in the meantime since my throat is killing me?” Either way — never heard back from his office, not even to tell me the test was negative.  I got the impression that, like a taken-for-granted lover, I’d been left behind for other exciting patients because he knew I’d come crawling back.

Then there was the time I had a sinus infection and they called me to ask which pharmacy they could call in a prescription to.  I gave them my local place, then said, “I know it’s standard practice for this kind of thing to prescribe Zithromax, but please don’t.  It makes me violently ill.” The nurse snapped at me, “Are you trying to tell the doctor how to do his job?” Naturally, when I showed up at the pharmacy that night after the doctor’s office had already closed, Zithromax was waiting for me.  Just like a bad boyfriend, he was giving me what he thought was best, not what I needed.

So it’s gotten to the point where I’m almost afraid to call my doctor, yet I can’t seem to leave him because I’m a little reticent about maybe not finding anyone new out there… just like the end of a relationship where you start thinking about checking out because things have gotten so bad, but you’re just too scared of being single.  And like my desire to date a woman who’s Jewish, I also have to contend with finding a doctor who’s within my HMO.  Anyone got any friends — er, doctors they can set me up with?

Since I moved out to Los Angeles and started this job, I’ve had the wonderful opportunity to really immerse myself in the music to the point where my personal connection can now go way beyond just the usual “I love this song!” and remembering things about whatever song is currently playing.

- I got to tell the lead singer from Collective Soul about how his song “Shine” literally saved my life, and I’m talking about in the strictly physical sense and not a spiritual kind of way.
- I got to tell Tommy James that for a long time, I’ve held the belief that I’ll know I’ll be in love when a woman walks into the room and I start hearing his song “Crimson and Clover” playing in my head.  He also told me the meaning behind “Mony Mony.”
- And then last night, I (and the way rad Nicole) got to see Idina Menzel perform at a showcase last night, and in about two hours, I will get to interview her and tell her how someone recommended I see Wicked, so I flew to New York just to see that show and her in it.

That is, if I survive until noon and if I don’t put Idina off by being sick all over the place — I got home last night and had a 101-degree fever; when I woke up this morning, my temperature was 96.1.  At this point, I might pay money for someone to hack off my head.

During the highlight reel they show in the studio for the audience warmup for Real Time with Bill Maher, Bill is shown saying a line about “Americans will put up with any kind of mistreatment to get on TV… and I think my guests prove that every week.”

I’ll take that one step further:  Americans will put up with any kind of mistreatment — and even do it to themselves — in order to take the easy way out.  Take this new drug Alli that I’m seeing all these ads for.  Alli is a weight-loss aid that pumps your body full of that orlistat modified-fat stuff they put in potato chips, which makes it hard for your body to digest fat.  Alli promises up to 50% more weight loss purely from blocking fat intake.  Sounds great, right?  Except when I did some reading on the product, I ran across some… interesting, shall we say… side effects.  MSNBC writes:

Dieters have been flocking to drugstores to pick up Alli, the first over-the-counter weight-loss pill to be approved by the Food and Drug Administration, despite the scary warning: Stray too far from your low-fat diet and you just might poop your pants ... “(I)’ve pooped my pants 3 times today, and sorry to get descriptive but it even leaked onto the couch at one point!” writes one user.  It can strike any time — even in the early hours of the morning. One user writes: “(Y)a know how when you start moving around in the morning ya pass a little gas. Well, I did and then went into the bathroom and to my horror I had an orange river of grease running down my leg.”

I don’t know about you, but one of the hallmarks that heralded my arrival as a big boy was my ability to hold it until I could get to a toilet without losing control of my bowels to the point of leakage, and I’d like to think I’ll remain a big boy in that way until my body fails me when I’m old and grey.  The fact that people are willingly doing this to themselves just astounds me, and the fact that people are still willing to take the easy way out despite the risk of pants-pooping and anal leakage… well, I guess that shouldn’t astound me, just make me shake my head and realize why people around the world think Americans are stupid.  I may be part of the 65% of the population here who’s overweight, but I’d rather go to the gym three times a week and beat myself up mentally for the extra weight than have my pizza and then feel it leak through my jeans half an hour later.

Dignity, thy name is not taking Alli.

Dear Woman Annoying Girl at Ralph’s,

There are several things that could’ve been done to halt the sequence of events last night at the supermarket that resulted in you giving me a dirty look.  First, don’t make such a ruckus with your boyfriend by standing there in line at the checkout counter, TALKING TO HIM IN SUCH A LOUD TONE OF VOICE THAT PEOPLE WAY BACK IN PRODUCE CAN HEAR YOU.  That’s a definite attention-getter.  Second, if you’re going to wear something over your white wifebeater, make sure it covers all of your top and you don’t cut the collar off to make it look like Jennifer Beals wore it when Flashdance came out in 1983 and then stretched it out to the point where an oil drum could pass through the collar before discarding it.  Third — and this is the most important part — wear a freaking bra so that when people see a large spot on your gleaming white wifebeater and think maybe you schlopped some chocolate or something on it accidentally, it would actually be that instead of your damn nipple showing through the shirt.  Fourth, if you’re going to ignore all of my advice and go ahead and do things your way anyway, then don’t get pissed when people look at you.  You’re obviously screaming for attention, so don’t complain if any of it is unwanted.

Hard to believe my gala holiday break is drawing to a close, and I’m setting my alarm for the first time in 2 1/2 weeks to wake me up for work tomorrow.  It really is true that the older you get, the faster time goes by.

But before we can look forward, we should look back because man is nothing without his past, right?  Denver with The Best Friend™ was awesome… my first night there, we went to this great little Irish pub, where we basically befriended everyone in the bar (including the bartenders), and in a rare display of me completely leaving my senses (which I will blame more on the lack of oxygen thanks to the altitude rather than the alcohol), I ordered a round of shots for everyone in the bar.  The following night, we did some cleanup and baking and other preparation for New Year’s Eve — I even made Jell-O shots and an ice luge.  The party itself was kickass — everyone enjoyed their liquor, there was a good deal of Guitar Hero playing (and I’m proud to say I picked up the game to the point where I was able to hold my own), there were lots of love and fun in between trips outside where it was effing cold to do shots off the ice luge, and at one point The Best Friend™ decided to chug an entire bottle of maple syrup (Super Troopers, anyone?).  I even got to play bouncer and throw out some asshat at the end of the night.  Naturally, I was not quite ready to leave this morning, but had to pack up and go the way of the setting sun.

So now I’m back home.  And 2008 can begin officially.  I’m looking forward to seeing what it will bring.

With the year drawing to a close, everyone else is doing yearly recaps… so why not?  The Best Friend™ has gone to bed, the snow outside has stopped, and it’s just me, the laptop and the TV.

2007 was a pretty damn good year.  Workwise, I had one hell of a year — promoted to a position I’ve been working to attain for years, and I’m finally satisfied with the level of professional success and level of reputation in my industry I’ve achieved.  Thanks to work, I also got to visit Toronto and Charlotte and Minneapolis for the first time, I went to Disneyland for the first time, I met Chubby Checker, and I saw the first concert on the Van Halen reunion tour so I was able to cross “seeing a David Lee Roth-fronted Van Halen show” off my List of Things I Want to Do.  I also went to Tijuana and walked across the U.S.-Mexico border and back.  And the last time I was here in Denver, I saw the Boston Red Sox win their second World Series in almost 90 years.  In the negative column, I went through another tumultuous relationship, though I’ve picked myself up and I’m out dating again.  I definitely packed a lot into the last 12 months.

And now, in no particular order, my top 5 songs of the year:
- “Lazy Eye” by Silversun Pickups.  Technically, I’m cheating here, since I first heard the track in October 2006, but it didn’t really hit big until early this year.  Usually, when I first discover a song that I love, I burn myself out on it by playing it over and over and over to the point where I’m kind of sick of it by the time it really gets going on the radio, but this one… well, let’s just say it’s more than a year later, and I’ll still leave it on all the way through every time I hear it.
- “Jesus" by Brand New.  It’s such a haunting song, and it got me through some not-so-easy times earlier this year when I was feeling upset about my breakup.
- “Suburban Knights” by Hard-Fi.  This one is a great anthem to the working folk, and it’s got a stellar melody along with a catchy chorus that’s almost impossible not to sing along to.
- “Wolf Like Me” by TV on the Radio.  It’s a straight-up fast-paced rocker, and it’s one of my favorite songs to drive to.  It’s impossible not to press down on the gas pedal when this track is blasting through your car stereo.
- “Thrash Unreal” by Against Me! Not only is this a great song to listen to, but the lyrics reflect so much of what I see on a regular basis in Los Angeles… people who are just past their prime but can’t seem to break out of the habits of drinking and drugging and partying, no matter how used up they are. 

I do think 2008 will be a good year… if anything, we’ll have a new president voted in by the end of the year, which definitely bodes well.  Happy new year to all!

So, Christmas break. 
- I rode the mechanical bull at the world-famous Saddle Ranch on the Sunset Strip.  There’s a reason why there aren’t any Jewish cowboys.  I was thrown off after about 3 seconds… and then, at the urging of my co-workers who apparently love seeing me getting tossed around, I got back on.  And got thrown off again.  And was urged to get back on again, so I did.  And got thrown off again.  You’d think that kind of thing would make someone nauseous, but thankfully… Pictures may or may not be coming, depending on how dumb I look… or at least how much dumber than normal I look.
- I enjoyed Christmas with Honorary-Jew-for-a-Day Amandarin.  We saw Juno (which I thought was awesome!), Sweeney Todd and National Treasure: Book of Secrets.  And apparently Jim Belushi likes the Jewish Christmas traditions, since we saw him at my local Chinese food place during dinner.
- I had a minor screaming fit when I found out that, after 5 years, Futurama is leaving the Adult Swim lineup.  Thankfully, I discovered a little while later that Comedy Central will be airing it every night at 9pm starting the day after New Year’s, and the screaming ended.  Now instead of going up against The Daily Show, it’ll be up against Countdown With Keith Olbermann.  Oh, the sacrifices!  [back of hand to forehead]
- I’m gearing up for New Year’s in Denver at The Best Friend™’s place.  It seems a little weird, but I haven’t experienced temperatures below 30 degrees in over 5 years.  And yet right now, it’s 7 degrees there… I’m going to enjoy this.

So another birthday has come and gone, and I’ve been both carded several times since then as well as told that I look somewhere in the neighborhood of 37 years old.  I’m not quite sure what to make of that.  Either way, I’ve decided that it’s time to start crossing things off my Giant List of Things to Do in Life, so rather than continue to play the massive amounts of air guitar that I do, I figured it was time to actually learn how to play real guitar.  So I went out to Guitar Center and bought myself an acoustic guitar and a starter kit.  And now I can tune the thing, but that’s about all I can do… hey, I’ve had it for less than 24 hours.  I haven’t gotten to the part of the instructional DVD where I learn about chords yet, but I’m starting to get the feeling that the DVD is not going to help me much and that I’m going to have to find myself someone to teach me.  Anyone know anyone in Los Angeles who gives good guitar lessons?

The new TiVo is working now, thanks to yet another visit from the Time Warner Cable guy, and I’ve been using my vacation time to catch up on all those movies that I either wanted to see or have been told I should see but never got around to.  So far, I’ve already taken Fletch, O Brother Where Art Thou? and That Thing You Do! off the list.  I’m now looking for more movies that have some kind of punctuation in their titles.  But speaking of movies, tomorrow is Christmas, so I will be celebrating the traditional Jewish way:  Movies and Chinese food.  I’m making Amandarin an honorary Jew for the day. 

It’s in that spirit that I wish you all a Merry Christmas and stuff, and I present to you Blink 182’s “I Won’t Be Home for Christmas”, which is my favorite Christmas song.  And to all, a good night.