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The Official Carol Lynley Home Page
10/01/2003 - 11/01/2003
And also...David interviews Margaret Cho
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My Way of LifeI'm having a very nice time on vacation but I realize I must return home before another TV law enforcement icon dies. James Garner's life depends on it! Damn my responsibilities!
posted by David on 2/28/2006 06:25:00 PM | Link |
My Way of VidaBreakfast was pure hell this morning. The cool ocean breeze kept lifting the table cloth off of our table and it was tres annoying! Our hotel has 'all inclusive' meals and all you can drink. Great for lushes, not so great for teetotalers like Chris and myself. The food is what you'd expect. I mean who can mess up an omelette? Dinner is another story and we avoided it yesterday. Who goes to vacation to eat at the same place anyway? Puerto Vallarta is very relaxing and full of ugly Americans, Canadians and Europeans. Nice to know that we Americans haven't cornered the markeplace on tacky. There are more overweight , leather tanned, prison mulleted, french manicured, speedo wearing tourists here then you can shake a stick at. I eat a lot here so even my tummy is a little larger then it usually is and my Prada and Gaultier swimsuits are stretch to the limits. I finished the first draft of Caged Dames before I left so I'm starting to edit the script in prep[artion for the first read through. Last night we went to our favorite restaurant in PV, The Red Cabbage, an extremely out of the way place that has simply the very best mole' poblano ever, and the owner, Lola is very cool. I mean, come on, there's a picture of Dana Delany on the wall so you know it's good.
posted by David on 2/25/2006 06:05:00 PM | Link |
My Way of LifeChris and I landed in Puerto Vallarta last night and all is swell. The women of Mexico wear stilletos to the grocery store and have fat feet. Lots of dreamy boys here. Chris is getting whiplash. We had one argument befor the taxi picked us for O'Hare. Chris layed everything out meticulously, or as per Trista said, 'Like a Girl Scout!' (Makes sense, Chris was a Boy Scout). I couldn't find the passport that I didnt touch but he did, so it was official Chris PANIC time, and when he panics, it's scary. I found it on the floor under an empty suitcase.
posted by David on 2/23/2006 06:18:00 PM | Link |
My Way of LifeHola Sonaros and Senorrinnas. Yo am vamos a Meheeko tamana! Puerto Vallarta for the gazillionth time. I look forward a el SOL. I will be working on lyricos de songo para !Damas de Criminale! and editiando la Scripta. Gracias a technilogico I will be Blogando de Puerto Vallarta and letting you know how Christophero is driving me loco. I will be wearando my PRADA suito de agua de Jayne Mansfield! Aye que Lindo!
posted by David on 2/21/2006 07:10:00 PM | Link |
My Way of LifeFashion Designer/Author/Talk Show Hostess/Raging Queen, Isaac Mizrahi wins the prize for stupidest quote today.
From the Associated Press- 'The openly gay fashion designer strongly defended his behavior.
"The thing is, I am very connected to popular culture, I am, " he said. "And I watch 'Will & Grace' and I watch 'My Name is Earl' and I watch prime-time television a lot and every other joke is about pubic hair ... So I don't feel it's wrong to talk about that on the red carpet," Mizrahi said.
Just what the hell does that mean? Does he sit in front of the TV with his hair in curlers and write down buzz words on flash cards based on the 'hot' topics from 'Will and Grace'? The next time he gleams things from sitcoms he watches he might want to try and pick up on that 'humor' thing.
Perhaps he was misquoted.
posted by David on 2/21/2006 04:22:00 PM | Link |
My Way of Life
Vote for Angela Arden,
The Logo Network is asking for votes on the 50 greatest GLBT films of all time, so please vote for the delightful Die Mommie, Die! written by and starring our pal Charles Busch.
posted by David on 2/20/2006 05:55:00 PM | Link |
My Way of LifeGood morning. Let us begin our 3 day weekend with silliness.
posted by David on 2/17/2006 04:29:00 PM | Link |
My Way of LifeLately I've been thinking about the personal side of Kristy McNichol. You know, how she likes to wear one ring on each hand. Stuff like that...
posted by David on 2/16/2006 08:03:00 PM | Link |
My Way of LifeWhat could be worse than closing the number one parody musical in Chicago? Not closing it. Had I continued playing 'Too Tanned lady/Anthony' in POSEIDON! An Upside Down Musical, the humongous hit musical comedy, I would not be the David I am today - a person . I had been moving full speed in Chicago's fast lane. Life was great. Nothing could stop me now, I thought. Money was plentiful; work was coming at me like bullets on an artillery range. I could pick and choose. I was dancing in the big time. Then one day while my life was "speeding along that highway," someone opened the back door of the car and kicked me out. Suddenly I found myself sitting on the side of the road all alone, watching a cloud of dust as the car sped on without me.
Celebrity is an amazing gift, an opportunity of a lifetime. There's nothing like it. When fame came to me, it was like a drug, an ongoing incredible high. People called me "Miss Cerda"; crowded restaurants magically had the best table available - "Come right this way, Miss Cerda," I would hear; theater tickets were no problem, nor were hotel reservations or hair appointments. I no longer even needed to carry a purse. Somehow, somewhere, magically, someone would appear to take care of my needs. Runners, gofers were a new part of my life; 'No problem, Miss Cerda. I can get it for you." Anything - my favorite little chocolate donettes, which I love - would be fetched and brought to me. Makeup people hovered to powder my nose, fix my lipstick, brush my teeth. Hairdressers-teasing, spraying, adjusting. Anything I wanted or needed was responded to with a resounding "Yes, Miss Cerda! Yes! Yes! Yes!" Nothing was a problem because I was earning money for Hell in a Handbag, and lots of it. Musical parody is big business with multi-thousand dollar bonanzas. Keep the star happy. Don't mess with success. That's why Bailiwick would accommodate Ed Jones demands for McRibs from the Rock and Roll McDonalds on Ontario Street no matter what room in Steamworks he ended up in. They'd even march it up to Man's Country if that would keep him happy. Ed Jones sells tickets. Never say no to the star, because if the star walks, the project can fall apart. And the more popular the star, the more their demands are met. I didn't ask for any of this special treatment. It just came to me and intensified with each new magazine cover or important bar appearance. Once you are famous, you don't have to evolve as a person. It's not necessary or important that you read or think or make corrections in your personality. Nobody cares! Just keep the profits rolling in. There's no need to move yourself forward spiritually and emotionally. But growth is the greatest gift we can give ourselves as human beings - to constantly evolve, to be the best person we can be, to tune in to our feelings and to face ourselves in all our naked ness and truly look at who we are. It is our opportunity to change and to grow. If I hadn't been dumped off the number one musical parody in Chicago, I might have successfully continued doing disaster parody after disaster parody and being "Yessed" to death. Instead I was forced to come back to earth and look at myself from the vantage point of having "been there" and having lost my first huge professional opportunity. As quickly as it all came, it was over. I was no longer Chicago's darling. Suddenly I was no longer on the number one musical parody show in the Midwest, so I wasn't bringing in any profits; and when you don't bring in profits, the doors slam shut. The "friends" I had made along the way were suddenly too busy to see me. The open doors of the producers closed in my face. The Diet Cokes and scripts stopped arriving. The party invitations dried up. I was moved way down the alphabet from the "B-list." I felt ostracized, hurt, and shut out, disappointed that I believed I had been making "real" relationships. I had not understood that the invitations, the champagne, the scripts, the dinner invites, the open doors, and the friends were about business. This is the way it's done in Hollywood. The line between business and friendship is deliberately blurred. The pros, the ones who endure, understand this. It's the naive ones like myself, the new "hot" ones on the block, who get it confused and take it personally. Today, twenty years later, I am grateful. If I hadn't lost everything, I never would have had to do the work to bring myself back. I'm not talking about success anymore, although that came with it. I'm talking about the emotional work that helped me find the self-esteem to be the person I am today. It's an ongoing journey that has brought, and continues to bring me, peace of mind, serenity, and happiness with myself and the new life I have created.
My World Turned Upside Down is about the second part of my life's journey. This book picks up where my 1993 autobiography, What Do You Mean There's No Beer Left?, left off. My World Turned Upside Down helped me find clarity from a childhood of confusion, a childhood riddled with pain caused by living with a terribly boring father. I was severely affected by his disease simply by my proximity to it. When I was a child, my father told me over and over that I was "Average". Somewhere along the line, I began to believe him. He was my father, I had no choice but to believe him. He was the first teacher to whom I gave power over my life. Then fame dropped in. Fame has a power of its own; it must never be abused. It must have meaning; otherwise, it is purposeless. Fame taught me a lot. I've learned and grown enormously since that imaginary car ride. Everything that has happened to me has been a lesson. A wasted life is one in which lessons go unheeded. People who live such lives are the people who give up, who choose to be victim. I didn't give up. I am not a victim, and that is my proudest achievement.
*Special thanks to Suzane Somers for her amazingly similiar autobiography. I believe this was her 7th.
posted by David on 2/16/2006 04:34:00 PM | Link |
My Way of LifeWhy don't I give a shit about the Olympics? Of all the sporting events that's the one that all the gays and young hipsters seem to dig. Even my neighbors across the way who are always watching porn or having 'company' when the other's not home seem to have the Olympics on all the time.
I've always found the act of watching individuals participate in sporting events extremely boring. I remember trying to watch my first baseball game as kid. The boredom was so intense it was suffocating. Grant it, it may have to do with the fact that I'm about as coordinated as an ostrich in a pumps, but still... Even the sports with extremely hot guys are boring. I can appreciate figure skating for it's camp value but I like the old school Ice Capades type skaters. Now they're trying to be all hip and edgy and ROCK AND ROLL and it falls pathetically short. I didn't care that Michelle Kwan had to drop out of the Olympics. I cared more when Grandpa Munster died.
Perhaps it's because I hate how American's glorify and throw money at organized sports and totally neglect, mock and under fund the arts. Maybe I hate the fact that every day there's a new media hero who's biggest accomplishment is skiing and having six pac abs. Maybe I'm just too mean to live.
posted by David on 2/15/2006 09:33:00 PM | Link |
My Way of LifeWhat's Debbie up to today? Let's ask the folks at Go Fug Yourself. Nobody loves the little Rockbird more then I do but I think they kind of hit the nail on the head.
posted by David on 2/15/2006 08:56:00 PM | Link |
My Way of LifeHappy Belated Valentine's Day
posted by David on 2/15/2006 05:07:00 PM | Link |
My Way of LifeFile under trainwreck. Thanks to Aaron for reminding me about Dr. Phil helping Paula Abdul find love. Hopefully she's not all hopped up on dope like she was in some of the interviews I saw her on during the E! True Hollywood Story. Demanding career?
posted by David on 2/14/2006 09:35:00 PM | Link |
My Way of LifeLet's play Match Game !
There's a new show on the Cartoon Network. The Adventures of Meth Mouth and his Sidekick_______ .
posted by David on 2/14/2006 07:15:00 PM | Link |
My Way of LifeI'm starting to get the hang of my Barbie-puter. I don't have particularly large 'man-hands' , but typing is a bit of a challenge for me on a regular keyboard let alone on the size of a Triscuit. I ended up staying in last night. I tried to watch some television but just couldn't so I ended up writing and surfing for about 3 hours. I'm already planning a read through after I come back from vacation to hear what works and what doesn't. It's funny because even though this takes place in a women's prison there are less characters then I thought there would be. I'm to the point right after Big Lorraine is thrown in the HOLE. Meanwhile, Mary, our heroine finds a very special friend who's just as lonely and lost as she is. I got to bed at 11:30 and last weeks episode of Project Runway was on at midnight so I had to stay up and watch that since I missed it. I wasn't surprised that Nick was cut. His suit for Daniel was pretty hideous. What made it worse, (and I think they always do this) was the fact that they kept showing him saying how awesome his suit was and how he was an expert at menswear and this was supposed to be 'his thing'. Michael Kors is a bitch but he usually hits the nail on the head. It did look like a Golden Girls jacket. What is going on in Santino's head when it's down to him and one other person? Is that a studied, well-rehearsed look he practices in the mirror or is he actually thinking of something?
posted by David on 2/14/2006 05:21:00 PM | Link |
My Way of LifeNeed to kill some time? Hilary sent me this link. I stumped it with Cliff Claven's mom but it got all 4 of my choices before that.
posted by David on 2/13/2006 10:53:00 PM | Link |
My Way of LifeSo I go to church with Chris because contrary to popular belief I am not one of Satan's valets and I do have a spiritual set of beliefs. I do believe there is a higher power that connects us all. I'm not sure exactly what that is, I just know it's not me. I've been going to Unity Church here in Chicago because it makes the husband happy and it really, it doesn't kill me, but Sunday it almost did. Perhaps it's my Catholic repression or my own uptightnessnicity but I went to church Sunday but I was anywhere but there. Unity is a loving, accepting environment. All you have to do is go to their website to see that. On paper, I go along with all of this but when it turns into adult Gymboree I get very uncomfortable. I have NO problem cavorting onstage in heels and a wig or rolling around pretending a ship is capsizing but clapping and bouncing to an uplifting song with a bunch of Vegan/healing stone wearing/middle age women and men makes me feel really...Dumb.
This past Sunday was filled to the brim with songs and activities that required group participation. Singing, clapping, dance steps, 'stepping in to your own light'. I had my fill of it. The worse part about it is, and when I say 'worse', I mean the worse thing about ME is how judgmental one becomes. They have a time during the service where members come up and ask for prayers for the sick relatives, friends, themselves, or to help heal emotional wounds. Fine. Bring it on! But of course, just like anything someone has to ruin it it for everybody. The SAME people consistently waste my invaluable time by asking for things like my prayers for a job promotion, a project at work or who feel the need to let everyone know they're dating, and oh, could you pray for me?
Yes, there is one person in particular who is driving me crazy and even though Christopher is on a much higher ground then I am I know she bugs him, so it must bug others. I would call her Leslie, because that's her name but in the interest of anonymity we'll call her MEFIRST. MEFIRST has actually stood before the congregation and asked for prayers to help her Team at the bank work through a project, get a job, get a promotion, and help her choose the proper wine with a dinner she was cooking. Okay, the latter is something I made up, but that's not too far off. I think Reverend Erica is aware of MEFIRST'S shortcomings and has even adjusted the prayer request format but MEFIRST is clueless and nothing short of hitting her over the head with a giant hammer will stop her. When MEFIRST revealed she had a new girlfriend last week I winced because I knew this would provide her with endless fodder for stupid prayer requests. Help us through the tiff we had yesterday, help my parent like her, help her parents like me, help our cats live in harmony, help her learn to cook oatmeal the way I like it, and the eventual prayer- help me have the strength to forgive her after our break-up. I'm evil. Pure evil.
posted by David on 2/13/2006 05:55:00 PM | Link |
My Way of LifeStill got that mask on? Okay, click here!
posted by David on 2/10/2006 09:50:00 PM | Link |
My Way of LifeQuick, run to your closet and get out your Surprised Face. Now click here.
posted by David on 2/10/2006 05:35:00 PM | Link |
My Way of LifeFrom the Neato News Department. The Birds was nominated for two, count 'em two LA Weekly Theater Awards.
posted by David on 2/09/2006 09:30:00 PM | Link |
My Way of LifeI didn't watch the Grammys. When I was a kid I always thought the Grammys were boring and when I started to develop my own tastes in music the Grammy's consistently ignored anybody I liked regarding it too outside of the mainstream. Yes, I'm talking about Blondie- that's what you were thinking, wasn't it? I hold a bitter contempt for the Academy Awards for snubbing Call Me from the American Gigolo.
Instead I spent the evening with Brooke Allen of 'Feeling Kind of Blog Today' . I met Brooke during POSEIDON! An Upside Down Musical, a show we duped her into stage managing. Brooke's a sweetheart and a writer as well. Last night she introduced me to the wonderful world of MACROS to help me better format my plays and make them more readable to actors and crew. Insert insult here. Brooke is a great teacher. She showed me how to create a MACROS for each character. Mary, Elsie, Warden Hope, Maggie, Aggie, Big Lorraine, Myrtle, etc., It was fun...until I got home and kind of messed something up. Stage directions are what got me. You have to make the arrow thingy on top of the document , go to 'three'. Brooke did it effortlessly but I could not. No matter how hard I pressed my finger onto that goddamn mouse pad. When I finally did it I forgot to put it back and it just fucked up the format. After 20 minutes and erasing and re-recording some of the MACROS I realized I had to stop myself because it had gone beyond the MACROS and turned into 'David is an idiot who can't do anything' type of dealio, which of course isn't true, but sometimes the ghost of Negative Nancy haunts me.
posted by David on 2/09/2006 05:10:00 PM | Link |
My Way of LifeShe's still got it, baby. Debbie at Fashion Week.
posted by David on 2/08/2006 05:54:00 PM | Link |
My Way of LifeWelcome to the wonderful world of female masking with your hostess, Jovina.
posted by David on 2/08/2006 05:05:00 PM | Link |
My Way of LifeRiot causing cartoon.
posted by David on 2/08/2006 04:59:00 PM | Link |
My Way of LifeI'm back from the dead. Mama was sick Sunday evening. I won't go into the icky details but it involved expelling anything my body could expel. I'm surprised I didn't vomit out an internal organ. I did manage to watch some some movies. The Damned Don't Cry, one of Joan Crawford's Warner Brothers film noir ditties where she goes from suffering housewife, to tough street dame to sophisticated gangster moll/socialite. She even has two names! I highly recommend this film if you've never seen it. Well worth a purchase. I also watched Our Sons on the Logo channel and The Color Purple (the second half). How can you go wrong with a film starring Ann-Margret and Julie Andrews? Especially when Ann-Margret wears a blonde permed wig and sports a southern accent and wears unbelievably bad pants suits . Anyway, Ann-Margret's son has AIDS and turns into Beetlejuice. Ann-Margret lives in a trailer and hasn't spoke to her son in years because's he's 'one of them'. Julie Andrews convinces Ann-Margret to come and visit her son before he dies. Hugh Grant plays Julie Andrew's son with big blue eyes and big 80's hair. I wonder what some 20 something kid might make of this kind of movie. Would they view it as ancient history? Seems like a lot of youngsters don't associate AIDS with death anymore which is good and bad. Although the actor who played the dying son, looked like he was wearing 'sick' make-up, I was there, and many of the patients looked a hell of a lot worst then that. This film was shot in 1991. Seems like yesterday to me.
The Color Purple, I just love. I've always felt embarrassed for liking this film because it's soooo Spielbergish sometimes but damn, Whoopie and Oprah and that Margaret Avery woman just kick some serious ass in that film, and I was sitting there balling like a little girl.
Friday night , before I was sick I saw David Kodeski and full out 80's Brit synth pop band attire in 'The Purloined Letter'. I didn't like it at first because it required that the audience really pay attention and I didn't understand what the hell was going on, but by the fourth scene I was into it although I'm not sure how I felt about one of the characters 'Casio' hums all of his dialogue and you have to identify the song to know what he's saying. It was clever for a while then it got kind of got annoying, but I think this is what they wanted. It certainly was effective because find myself mimicking the actors casio keyboard musings myself which is maddening. This is a good show with intelligent writing and acting, so go see it.
This was my third date with Steve Hickson in 2 weeks. People are starting to talk.
posted by David on 2/07/2006 05:41:00 PM | Link |
My Way of LifeI could not drag my sorry ass out of bed today. I know that's shocking to most of you. I was just not built for morning. In the words of the dearly departed Laura Branigan, 'I, I live among the creatures of the night'.
I shouldn't be so 'blah'- I didn't do anything particularly stressful yesterday. I packed my gym bag the minute I got home from work and set it in front of the door so it would be right there. Staring at me. Taunting me. Saying, "David, you're going to Puerto Vallarta in 3 weeks. You'd better work on your extended belly or all the other homos will snicker at you behind your back". I heard the voices, got in my car with he gym bag and ended up doing something else. When I got home I decided to eat dinner, watch some TV (Without A Trace- kind of boring) and write.
I am writing my homage to women's prison films and mine is set in the 50's (I think). I'm rather ambivalent about the exact time period, but know it's when women called each other 'dames' and they used phrases like 'They flopped that fish back in stir'. Thanks to many friends and my own obsessive compulsiveness I have just about every women's prison film from 1950- to the 70's. These are the peak years. I decided to concentrate on one particular film because that's what I do best. The 70's films are wonderfully vulgar and I love them, but vulgar and crass seems to be pretty commonplace now so I'm taking a bit more of a demur approach. There will be no pussy eating or boobs in my play, dammit! I originally was interested in mounting a play by Tom Eyen, called 'Women Behind Bars' after Charles Busch recommended it. After reading it and writing Samuel French I was shocked to learn that cross gender casting wasn't permitted, which is ridiculous because Divine starred in a version of this and the follow-up production , 'The Neon Woman'. Mr. Eyen's play is based on 'Caged' the granddaddy of all women's prison films, and in my mind, the best, so this is my blueprint. The cast is a sterling. Eleanor Parker is the sweet innocent woman who's life takes a turn for the worse when she happens to be in a car with her husband who robs a gasoline station. Eleanor Parker is best known as the Baroness from The Sound of Music. She's still very much alive and I would love to meet her because now I am in love with her. She's so good in this film, but the supporting cast matches her note for note including the mother of all prison matrons, the 225lb., 6'1" Hope Emerson. Parker and Emerson both received Oscar nominations for their roles which kind of surprised me given how shocking this film must have been when it was released.
I know about certain things I want to happen in the play but connecting the dots is the challenging part. That's why I'm eager to finish a first draft to hear it out loud and listen to the cold cruel comments of my best friends, who hopefully will be available to read it. Let's see how well time and my mental health cooperate.
posted by David on 2/03/2006 05:56:00 PM | Link |
My Way of LifeThe Heartbreak Kid finally breaks his silence on Jodie Sweetin's Meth addiction.
posted by David on 2/02/2006 06:20:00 PM | Link |
My Way of LifeI'm not sure which is more devastating. Publicly admitting your meth addiction or having the Olson Twins at your intervention.
I tease, but it comes from caring. Good for you, Jodie!
posted by David on 2/02/2006 05:54:00 PM | Link |
My Way of LifePoop Rules at Work
When taking a poo at work if there is somebody already occupying a stall in a restroom with 3 or less stalls you either have to go to the another restroom or wait until the person occupying the stall is finished. To save face, simply wash your hands and check your hair, leave and return in about 10 minutes.
Never sit in the stall next to another occupied stall.
*Excessive breathing and grunts are not permitted. Slow and controlled breathing prevents your co-workers from thinking you're having a heart attack or giving birth. Some people are under the assumption that 'all's fair' in the restroom. That simply isn't true. If you develop a reputation as a 'grunter', the news of this will spread throughout the office.
*Try to expel any excess gas before you enter the restroom. You can do this while walking to the restroom. Hallways are always best for this task. If you suddenly need to expel gas while in the stall you can either flush the toilet or cough repeatedly to camouflage the noise. Everybody still knows what you're doing but they appreciate the fact that you tried to save them from mutual embarrassment.
*Under no circumstances is it appropriate to hold a conversation with someone from 'stall to stall'. The echo is extra rude, and nobody wants to picture a turd sliding halfway out of your ass while you complain about that new sales tracking system to an equally gauche co-worker.
*Flashy shoes will only serve to identify you as a 'that guy sits on the toilet and reads the paper for 20 minutes'.
*For God's sake, don't leave any presents for the next stall occupant. Flush, and make sure it's gone.
*Wipe in a quiet and expedient manner. For Christ's sake, you're not scooping frosting out of a bowl. The breathing and grunting rules apply here as well.
posted by David on 2/01/2006 05:07:00 PM | Link |
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