Not Oprah, But...

her bff Gayle! yeah, i saw her at lunch today. i was so excited i almost spilt soy sauce on myself. 

i'm taking this as a sign from the magazine publishing gods that i should be working for her. end of story. 

Kathy Griffin

after practically pulling an all-nighter, an early presentation in my modern latin american art class and then being put through a day of work, it is safe to say i was delusional by 5:30 pm when my boss said i could go home early. 

in my haze, i made my way out of the office and as i was going down the escalator, i looked outside to see a bunch of cameras and lights. that was when i started praying to the infantile jesus that they weren't filming "running in heels", because i really couldn't be bothered. i attempted to ignore what was going on as i made my way out the rotating door, but as soon as i hit the pole barricade... well, i was practically jumped by this beautiful woman...

yes. that's right. kathy griffin. except i didn't know it was kathy griffin because i was just trying to exit the building so i could go home and sleep. 

girlfriend was filming an episode of my life on the D list and she was asking me if i worked for O, The Oprah Magazine and telling me how she just wanted to find Gayle so she could be her friend. the funny thing about this is how she was shoving flyers at me and i was apprehensive on taking one (as all people in new york are with things like that), yet trying to read it at the same time. and it didn't click in my head that it was kathy griffin until i walked five feet away. 

and then i was chased down by a man to sign a release form.

so look for me on the new season, i guess? hah!

god i'm such a moron. i love kathy griffin. i wish i was actually a functioning human today because i would have chatted girlfriend up.

Journalism & Jesus...

...do not mix as made evident today in my newspaper meeting. apparently, someone is writing a piece about indulgences "returning" to the catholic church, as it was reported in the NYTimes on Feb. 10. basically, the workshopping of the story revealed that the writer failed miserably at their research. (someone on the paper is a major religion buff and proceeded to call them out on everything). surprisingly, they are still going to run this (on the front page) of the issue on stands thursday. 

so my point is...there is no point. except that i was impressed with the writer (who ripped the story to shreds) and her wealth of religious knowledge. 

and that it made me think of this little trinket i found on saturday night...

i found it. i love little religious trinkets as i believe them to be neat. i also did not STEAL it like my beloved allison lebowitz* will try to tell you. 

but if it makes you feel better alli, maybe i'll go to confession to ask forgiveness for my sins. or better yet, i'll get an indulgence since it is all the rage these days!

*i don't even know why this bothers her so much seeing that she's jewish. kidding! love you alli!

Mexico, 1989

the author's first time crossing the border with Nana & Mother.

i don't think it gets any better.

Britney: For The Record

I, along with (undoubtedly) a million other people, watched Britney: For The Record. 

And all I can say is that as much as I was waining being on the Britney "Comeback" Wagon, my faith in her has been restored.

Especially after she said she was like The Karate Kid. 

You go, B.

You go.

I've Found Jesus.

A while ago, I was involved in a conversation concerning Ryan Adams. I admitted to only having a few of his songs, so my friend gave me copies of "Love is Hell" and "Rock n Roll." Today of all days I finally got to sit down and give a good listen to "Love is Hell" and, well...

this shit is like taking a bullet. 

It is so good that its frightening. 

I honestly cannot remember the last time I heard an album that is so raw and real that you can actually feel something. 

Kudos, Ryan. I wish there were more real artists like you that can successfully evoke the same emotion in your audience as you had when you recorded it. 

(Key track: "This House Is Not For Sale")

Now, please excuse me while I try to pry myself off the floor and get to class...