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February 04, 2006
Has it spread?
The malaise/boredom/hostility? Has it spread to the entire Internets? Because damn, it's been quiet. Y'all have been quiet. Other blogs and comments have been quiet. The bulletin boards I frequent have been quiet. Email's been quiet. Yes, I know I owe a bunch of you emails but I'm the creator of the malaise/boredom/hostility moebius loop so I'm allowed, okay?
C'mon. Don't be quiet. Let's rap.
While I've broken free from the loop, things are quiet, but it's good quiet. Clara Jane's visiting my parents. I miss her but damn if I'm not enjoying the three hours I've spent sitting on the couch, watching Tivo'd episodes of Oprah, drinking my cinnamon dolce latte, eating pretzels and pineapple and warming my foot on Chloe's warm rump. Aside from feeling a bit like my ass has become fused to the slipcover, life's pretty damn good right now.
In watching these backlogged Oprahs, I've gained some respect for some people I already liked:
My God, I do so adore my sweet Anderson Cooper. Not just because he's hot and smart, either. Seeing him covering the Sago coal mine disaster, famine in Africa, even the old footage of him in Sarajevo ... he just blows me away. This is someone from wealth and priviledge who doesn't have to do what he does for the money. I'd love to sit on the porch and drink beer with him while he tells me about the things he's seen.
I've always liked Susan Saint James, probably from all that Kate & Allie I watched in my formative years, although I can't say I feel the same about Jane Curtain. Anyway, I hadn't planned on watching Susan and her family on Oprah, discussing the death of her son Teddy in a plane crash. That's the mom in me, who would love to pretend that bad things don't happen to children. But I watched it, and now I'd really like to adopt Susan to be a really cool aunt, perhaps.
As tasteless as this really is, I've gotta say that her older son Charlie? Total hottie. Like, Anderson Cooper hot. That's would be the funeral slut in me talking. Like Anderson and my beloved Bono, he's doing Africa-related goodness. I'd love to make out with all three of them, then go feed the world.
See? This is what happens when my mind and energy aren't being used towards raising my kid. When I wonder, "What would I do with my resources if I wasn't a mom?", this is the answer: I will spend many, many hours, my flesh becoming fused to the furniture, watching hours of Oprah and thinking, "That grieving barely-legal young man? He's hot."
Or I'll spend it watching hours of Daria and eating chicken wings, feeling a little guilty about all those wingless chicken staggering about on some debilitated chicken farm.
B.'s a big instigator. He came home from the library this morning with the fourth season of "Sex and the City" on DVD. I'll watch it while making boobiesand eating chicken livers with fried cheese, waiting for the sweet ache of gout to commence.
Having read through what I've just written, I'm thinking that maybe I should join in the recent group silence.
Ooooooh, I smell pizza!
Posted by Robin at February 4, 2006 12:41 PM
Comments
I've always liked Susan St. James too. I can't speak for her son Charlie, but I think you'd have more luck going after him than Anderson Cooper. As far as the horizontal bop, I'm pretty sure Anderson would prefer someone like, um..me, if you get my drift.
"Sweet ache of gout". Nice turn of phrase!
Oh. Oops. Was I supposed to be quiet?
Damn.
Posted by: Mr. Fabulous at February 4, 2006 04:18 PM
Oh, I don't doubt you one bit on the assessment of Mr. Cooper's sexuality. I've got a long history of lovely hag relationships, and I'd gladly settle for that with my lovely Anderson.
Posted by: Robin at February 4, 2006 04:37 PM
I could definately do some dirty things to Anderson. I was watching the recent Oprah (or maybe it was a rerun) and was getting all upset over those kids in Africa and feeling all horrible because they were starving, in pain, dying hours later. It was awful. Then they would show him back on the actual Oprah show on the couch and I'd think "so hot...want to touch the heinie".
This makes me a bad person. I am burning in hell right now.
Posted by: Exena at February 5, 2006 08:14 AM
I only have the hots for Anderson Cooper's brain. No, really! Heh.
Posted by: Dixie at February 5, 2006 02:53 PM
I'd like to make out with Anderson Cooper!
He is so hot-which is weird because I don't usually go for grey hair. . .do you think it's really grey, or do you think he has it colored, for that respectable, dignified, trustworthy news-man look?
Either way. . .mmmm!
Posted by: Johanna Cagan at February 5, 2006 03:12 PM
Exena, that was the Oprah I was watching. My God. I wailed while I watched it. Just fucking wailed. I don't know when I've ever cried like that from something on TV. And yet, I was also tingly.
Johanna, I think it's really gray. In the early Sarajevo footage shown on Oprah, he was only 23 but it was obvious that he had some salt sprinkles. He wrote about it here.
Which reminds me, I do so love his Details columns. At that link there's the piece he wrote about the African famine, along with an amazing piece about his brother's suicide. While his writing on the gut-wrenching topics is amazing, he's also really funny. Check out "Talking Sex with Mom".
*sigh* I love you Mr. Cooper. Your brain, your gray hair, your heinie..."
Posted by: Poppy at February 5, 2006 06:39 PM
