Braidwood talked about the most beautiful woman in the world today. I’ve always had trouble picking the most beautiful. There are so many factors and so many beauties that I am completely incapable of making a choice. It’s like the toothbrush aisle. When confronted with that many choices, I usually choose at random. When it’s time for a new toothbrush, I say, “Which one did I get last time?”

The irony is that it’s never good enough to say, “I can’t possibly choose. I could list all day long and still not be able to decide.” This is a particularly egregious offense when I am talking to women about celebrity males. They crinkle their noses and squint at me as if I’m lying. “You don’t have a favorite?” Then they roll their eyes. It’s like they can’t possibly believe that I can’t choose the most beautiful male celebrity.

So, just like the toothbrush, I chose one at random. Back then, I had seen Interview with the Vampire, so I chose Brad Pitt. Whenever anyone asked me who my favorite male celebrity was, I would tell them Brad Pitt. They would nod or argue, but I didn’t really care because they weren’t crinkling, squinting and rolling. Whether they cattily pointed out Brad Pitt’s crazy Grizzly Adams phase or gushed about his blue eyes was inconsequential to me. Sure, Brad Pitt’s beautiful, but so are a thousand other male celebrities out there. He was just a random answer chosen to shut the mouths of the women who didn’t understand the concept of “Everyone Is Beautiful.”

Brad Pitt got married, but I still just used his name whenever the question arose. Now, he’s getting divorced and there’s a question of his fidelity splashed across the tabloids. Personally, I think I liked Fight Club so much because we get to see Brad Pitt beaten to a bloody pulp. Something dark inside me wants to see the beauty crushed. It wasn’t even his fault that he got chosen for the pedestal of beauty. He was a small time actor when he was chosen arbitrarily.

It’s not like I don’t get crushes on male celebrities. I do, but no one believes me when I say them out loud. My list of celebrity crushes is diverse, ranging from Alfred Hitchcock to John Goodman, William H. Macy to Jerry Orbach and Weird Al Yankovic to Steve Buscemi. The whole reason I chose Brad Pitt way back when was because of the strange looks when I told them who my current crush was. I learned very quickly that I needed to choose a strikingly handsome crush otherwise there was something the matter with me. Either that, or they thought I was lying. “You can’t possibly have a crush on Weird Al Yankovic!” It only took a couple of times hearing that before I wised up. “You’re right. I was just joking. It’s really Brad Pitt…”

Six more weeks of winter according to the chubby groundhog in Pennsylvania.

Phil’s Prediction

Shucks… I was enjoying that sunshine we had this morning.

I got my DVD of the CGI Re-Creation of Adventure Through Inner Space a couple of days ago. Since I remember so little of the original ride, I have no idea of how close it is to the original. I listened to the commentary track from the creator and I realized how utterly obsessed someone has to be to complete a project like this.

It took his computer three months to render the opening sequence. THREE MONTHS! And he had a really cool machine to work on (top of the line back in 2003). For three months, he waited for his computer to render just part of this project. I’m bugged when my computer takes a few minutes doing anything.

This is why I love the Internet. No matter how obsessed I am about something, there is always someone who is more obsessed willing to share the bounty of his work. That DVD was totally worth the $25 it cost me. Thanks, Steve!

I haven’t heard from you. You usually email me those junky emails, but I haven’t received one in a long time. I know I forwarded you the URL to snopes.com the last three times you sent me hoaxes, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to hear from you.

We don’t have much to say to each other anymore, I know. It has been almost a year since I last saw you. We ate lunch at the Joy Luck Restaurant by my work. I had rice and hot sour soup. You were excited about your new project and I was excited about mine. You ate all of your entree, even though you said it was too much food for you. I noticed, but I didn’t say anything.

We used to share a common employment, but now I’m just a secretary and you have started your own brokerage. That’s cool. You’re doing things that I could never dream of doing. You don’t know it, but I’m doing things that you would be proud of. I don’t have much to tell you about them, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to hear from you.

Send me the one about the kid who needs everyone to send their business cards before he dies of cancer. I promise not to send you the snopes.com rebuttal.

Dear Margaret Cho,

I live in Salt Lake City, Utah. If you’re familiar with the area, I think you will understand my surprise when I found your DVD, Notorious C.H.O., at my local library. I’ve enjoyed reading your blog, so I thought I would see what your stand up act is like. I grabbed it as if there were someone right behind me, ready to take it away.

You’ll be happy to know that in this conservative bastion of Mormonism, your DVD has been watched so many times that it is damaged beyond repair. It kept freezing up right in the middle of your frank discussion of Food Issues. I enjoyed it so much I had to get a copy of my own to see the end.

Sadly, Notorious C.H.O. is the only DVD the Salt Lake County Library System has of yours, although they do have I Am The One I Want in book form and book on tape. I have your other DVDs in my queue at Netflix as we speak.

Thank you for your honesty. By the end of your DVD, I was happy and wanting to hug my husband. I laughed so hard that tears came to my eyes and I struggled for breath. Sure, I was surprised at the details that you were willing to share, but I was raised in Salt Lake City. We’re not allowed to talk about those things here. That doesn’t mean they don’t happen, we just don’t talk about them. Thank you for being so open. It’s a breath of fresh air in the hushed land of Zion.

Right before the credits, one of the audience members said, “Margaret makes me want to be a better person.” When I heard him say that, I breathed a huge sigh. Yeah, he was right.

So, just a quick note to tell you, thanks.

Laura Moncur

Laura,

Margaret will be at a club called MoDiggity’s on Feb. 26th. She’s doing a couple practice shows for her new Assassin Tour. Thought you’d like to know. I’ve passed your message on to her. Thanks for writing.

Karen Taussig

I’m just the luckiest girl in the world!

“Hello…”

He is calling from his rented car. I would judge him to be in his fifties and his kindly looking wife looks nervous. We are in the residential area to the south of the Smith’s on 9th East.

“Are we near the shops in Sugarhouse?”

I’ve never heard them called that before. We have many shops in Sugarhouse, but there isn’t a specific site called “The Shops in Sugarhouse.” He made it sound like a shopping mall instead of the hodge podge of stores that have evolved over the years. I called back to him, my arms straining with the grocery bags, “What are you looking for?”

“The Sundance store.”

Of course. I suddenly feel safer now that I know that I’m giving directions to a tourist. I get closer to the car and move the groceries from one hand to the other so I can point. The weather is a gorgeous 48 degrees Fahrenheit. Mike and I have walked to “The Shops in Sugarhouse” to eat a crepe and get some organic produce from Wild Oats. Mike answers the man first, “It’s right next to Wild Oats. You can see it from here.”

The top of the store quietly peeks out from behind the Granite Furniture warehouse. I dismiss his directions, “He can’t see Wild Oats from here.”

“It’s supposed to be on 11th East. Is that street up there 11th East?”

I shake my head and start pointing. “That is 10th East. Go through that into the parking lot, through the parking lot and you’ll get to 11th East. Turn right on 11th East and then the Sundance store will be on your left.”

“Through there, right, then left. Ok. We’re from Michigan and we were lost. Thank you.”

He slowly drives off and Mike and I head home. I’m glowing a bit from the effort of carrying the groceries and the good deed. I love tourists.

Just thinking about writing a blog entry makes me feel tired. It’s not like I have lots of other things to do. I’m completely bored here with nothing to do but write and write. I’ve gotten my wish and I have all the time in the world to write and I am tired. I am tired of writing, so I think I’ll take a break for a bit.

On Sun, 13 Feb 2005 02:58:18 -0800 (PST), diana frias wrote:

Sent via the form at laura.moncur.org

get over yourself, dealt with the same things growing up yet I feel my parents religion has made a stronger person. Don’t attend “meeting” but yet still have my “JW” morals and thats better than most people these days. Commerial holidays are overrated! Happy valentines day, nobody cares about your sob story or wish list! sorry I came upon your site.

Apparently, Diana found my Worst Valentine Memory entry from last year.

Dear Diana,

Imagine my confusion when I received your email this morning. I wrote that Valentine’s entry last year and had almost completely forgotten about it and then your email came today and I was confused. I’ve had trouble writing lately and I thought you were commenting on the fact that my words have left me. Luckily, your email had just enough clues to jog my memory.

It sounds as if my story hit a nerve with you. Your admonishment was far too negative and judgmental to be merely a “Get Over Yourself” response. I’m sorry you were raised Jehovah Witness. The religion preaches a separatism that is unhealthy to child development. If you fully agreed with their lifestyle, you would be attending Meeting today.

One of the things that I tell myself every day is, “My creativity heals myself and others.” Writing out my worst Valentine memory actually helped heal me a little bit. It sounds, however, that my story was not as helpful to you and may have opened old wounds that were festering under the skin. I wish you the best and I hope that you are finally able to heal after all of these years.

Good Luck, Laura Moncur

“Some nights he’s weightless…
Gas stations everywhere –
Not one drop to fill me…
Fruit juice everywhere – Not one drop to fill me…”
– Thomas Dolby, Weightless

“I’m walking through the desert
And I am not frightened although it’s hot
I have all that I requested
And I do not want what I haven’t got.”
– Sinead O’Connor, I Do Not Want What I Haven’t Got

“Well, I put a quarter right into that can
But all it played was disco, man.”
– Brian Setzer Orchestra, Rock This Town

“But no one’s watching you.”
– Talk Talk, My Foolish Friend

“Well you’ll never gain weight from a doughnut hole.”
– Tori Amos, Doughnut Song

“The rain falls hard on a humdrum town
This town has dragged you down.”
– The Smiths, William, It Was Really Nothing