But Call Me Betsy

Didn't realize that The Bachelor started at 9:30 and so I don't know what happened in the first little bit, except probably nothing. He is on a one on one date with Holly, the children's book author. She wears a dress that resembles a zebra hide and won't stop giving this fake Holly Hollywood smile. He is adorable still, but perhaps a little bit of a manwhore. I get the feeling that he's going to kiss every single woman on the show. Oh, awesome, a plug for a movie starring Patrick Dempsey and she's crying over it? Why are they completely reclined in their movie seats? They're supine. I missed this beginning because I'm trying to get through a book for tomorrow night's class. We'll be discussing Seinfeld and Philosophy. I am getting snippets of Kierkegaard and Nietzsche and a bunch of other philosophers whose names I cannot spell and am too lazy to look up, despite having just read Nietzsche's implicit argument about how you might live your l...

This orange cat is playing with my emotions. She brought the kittens back. Who knows why or where she's been taking them. I thought for sure she wouldn't b/c this other orange tom cat has been sleeping in the shelter too. I moved the food so that it's not near the cat hotel in case it was drawing other animals or something. She would probably like it better if the cover was more secure, but I can't really do anything about that. I was going to move the hotel and put it somewhere else in the patio, but maybe it's just that she feels like she has to move them occasionally to keep them safe. Who the hell knows. For now, they're back and I am going to leave them alone and see if that makes a difference.

So, I got up this morning to check on the kittens and they have vanished in the night leaving no forwarding address. I must have freaked the mama kitten out by bringing one of the kittens inside for the house for a little while. She took them away. I guess she must have moved them to wherever they were before, but I'm sad because I doubt they'll be safer; unless someone in the nieghborhood is competing for best cat condo. Maybe if I added a skylight and an extra room with a pool she'd return? I was going to try to get them homes but now they'll just be more strays who don't live long and continue to reproduce. Carrie said that maybe she'll come back. Maybe. Or not. Okay, so even as I type that the mama cat is outside on the brick, and she let's me pet her. Where are the kittens? Did they die? Did something carry them off into the night?There's no sign of distress in the shelter. Well, my guess is that she might bring them back. But why move them then? It...

I must accept that I am a cat lady. I must accept that I worry too much about every stray animal in existence. Why, you ask? What are you talking about? I am referring to this orange and white kitty who I thought was a boy until yesterday, when I spotted her carrying something wild in her mouth across the wide expanse of brick in my backyard. I thought she had caught a mouse, but then realized it was a kitten. And so I worried. Where would she take it? So I built this little hutch in the back yard made out of two drawers and a piece of wood and a couple of rugs I don't need. I didn't think she would notice, but then, tonight, as I was making pasta, I saw her drop down into my yard with that same small animal in her mouth and realized that she had seen the shelter and was ready to use it. I thought, How sad. Only one of her babies survived. But then, a few minutes later, I watched her return again with another kitten in her mouth. Okay, so two survived. She aban doned them, only...

Here we go, bitches...The Bachelor does have a perpetually rosy bloom to his cheeks and that lovely accent and the pretty boy lips. It looks like they're going to Vegas and stripping. Chris arrives dressed in a striped shirt that looks like a pajama top. It's also two sizes two big for him. Two roses up for grabs on these dates! Ladies...The date box has arrived. I think the host, Chris, has lost twenty-five pounds. He must not have liked his look in the latest issue of People magazine before the new show started filming. The first group has to go the runway for a fashion show. I believe it's eight girls/twits and him. Jewel is drinking champagne and wondering when she's going to get to play her guitar for him. Erin H. is both excited and mortified to be able to strip for him (that's Ditta von Teese). This is stupid. This is how he says he's judging. "It's not about who is the hottest, who is the best model, but who really goes for it." That's ...

That's because I have spent most of this Easter Sunday--nay, all of it--watching this marathon of In Treatment because Comcast has brought me the miracle of free HBO in order to celebrate the resurrection of Christ. In case you don't know, In Treatment is a half hour show starring Gabriel Byrnes . Each episode is a particular therapy session on a certain day with a client. There are four rotating appointments--the seductive Laura with the huge teeth, the black closeted gay military guy, the adorable, suicidal gymnast , and the angry, mismatched couple. The last day (Friday) is the therapist's meeting with his former mentor, Dianne Wiest . I find these shows to be the least interesting, or maybe the hardest to watch, because they basically just argue back and forth. It's a compelling show, but I do have one teeny tiny pet peeve with the dialogue. They overuse each other's names...Nobody in reality says another person's name with the same kind of frequency. Exam...

It's hard to eat meat when you have to walk through the Italian Market all the time--this place that houses cages full of live chickens with their eyes pecked out, roosters, and scared gray bunnies piled on top of each other and about to become venison. That said, I keep ordering the ham and cheese sandwich at Last Drop. It's sooooooooooooo good, but I should resist. Pigs are smart animals. Not smart enough to unionize and keep from being slaughtered, but still very smart. Smarter than Emma Carol who tried to drink water from the tap the other day by lunging at it and biting in the general direction of the water (unsuccessfully). I told Celia that yesterday and she couldn't stop laughing. Celia is my friend who pointed out that Emma Carol has crazy eyes. She does. She always looks startled, as though the paparazzi has unexpectedly snapped her photo. I was a vegetarian while living in State College for about three years, but only because I was surrounded by non meat eaters ...

Padhraig and I were at Java Company the other day and this girl came in wearing bright red tight hot pants. She also had dreadlocks and a jewel glued or stapled to her forehead. She sat down next to us and began writing in her journal, a small book with a fairy on the cover. A few moments later, her friend joined her--a man wearing what can only be described as a smock with roomy pants. He also had a jewel Scotch taped to his head. They sat there together, talking about...I don't know what, but halfway through, she started doing yoga exhalations or speaking in tongues. It reminded me of being back in college with a bevy of theatre majors and how I just couldn't fit in with some of them--the more hippy-ish ones, those who could contort themselves into pretzels while talking about the Dali Lama and ingesting LSD. I was always intimidated by them. I am strange, but I could never be that strange or that certain degree of strange or maybe it's that brand of showoffishness. I am ...

It's that time again and many of you are not going to be happy about it. The new season of The Bachelor: London Calling has started with our fair Brit, Matt Grant. So far, every girl has huge tits and blond hair and a shiny, shiny tan face. Except for the three dark haired women who are all mom types. He is kissing every single one on each cheek. Omigod , this one girl just made smoochy noises when she kissed him and then almost licked his cheek. The rest look like they stuck their head out of the limo window on the way over because their hair is all over the goddamn place. Is that the way the kids are doing their hair these days? Nice bangs. One girl is a hot dog vendor, one worked for the Bush administration, one brought him a ball that matches her dress (as she pointed out), another asked him what country London is in, one is from Oklahoma, one just said, " Omigod , you are so cute! You are so fucking cute, I can't stand it!" (Several are from the South). Was ever...

I have a brilliant idea: Why doesn't Philadelphia develop an above-ground system of public transportation, perhaps buses, to help its citizens travel from place to place? Wouldn't that be grand and helpful? And maybe the buses could be scheduled to run about every 15 minutes. I mean, the city isn't that big, but they could get maybe more than one bus. Last week after the art extravaganza, Lisa Marie and I walked down 10th Street from Vine in the rain, hoping that maybe we could get the bus that supposedly runs down that way. We waited and walked. And walked to the next block and waited. And made it to South Street and waited. And then walked. And then suddenly, an hour and a half later, we were home! All on our own. No bus bothered us the entire time. The same thing happened on Friday--different street. I was meeting Kim at Market and 12th and decided I'd go down 7th and hop onto the bus whenever it arrived. Which it never did. What typically happens when a bus does act...

I have a problem, I admit it. I could probably watch Law and Order for 16 hours straight; preferably SVU . This evening, I have seen both Martha Plimpton and Henry Winkler implicated in terrible murders and rapes. I started a short story a few weeks ago where the central character has a crush on the guy who plays Elliot on SVU (I mentioned this idea in an earlier post--she's an actress who can only get work in ads for antidepressants or as like the "before" person in other mood stabilizer ads). The character in the story writes letters to the actor playing Elliot and keeps getting signed headshots back from him. I haven't decided if she will actually meet him; probably not, but maybe she'll get a letter back finally, from his agent or whoever reads his mail. In real life, I too sort of kind of like the Elliot guy, even though he's sometimes a dick (or because he is?). However. I have a different relationship with the Criminal Intent show, in large part b...

Per a recent online conversation with an old friend/hook up, I started thinking about the many things I don't write about here. Like, I know it seems as though I am an open book, right, and perhaps nothing of great interest is happening in my life (this is mostly true), but since this is a public forum, you must guess that there are things I leave out for various reasons. Such as: 1. Anything to do with the Angela situation (friends will know what I mean. It's not as ominous as it sounds). 2. Anything that might upset a close friend, meaning, I don't tell other people's secrets or personal information, no matter how juicy or interesting. Go here to scratch that itch. I don't really tell my own secrets either, even though they would also be moderately intriguing/upsetting/another reason for my mother to worry about me. 3. Dreams. I don't often write about my dreams b/c there is really nothing less interesting than reading about someone else's fucked up subcon...

Have been thinking lately about what would happen if I decided to just switch my focus completely; to pursue an entirely new life and career. I could go back to school and change everything. Here are some ideas I've come up with: 1. Nurse. However, after finishing Atonement last night, I would prefer to be a nurse in London during World War I. I'd like to wear the tri-corner hats and stiff white uniforms and squeaky, sensible shoes. Drawback: blood and death. I don't think I'm squeamish about blood, but I don't know for sure. I've never faced anything more graphic than a nosebleed. Still, I like the idea of being able to fix people and am somewhat fascinated by being that close to the body in all of its weakness. I was a candy striper in high school, but the most I ever got to do was carry phlegm to the lab (totally gross). 2. Seeing-eye-dog trainer. Drawback: What if I get attached to one of the dogs? Or every single one? 3. Folk singer/guitarist. I'd star...

Have been trying to come up with new topics for this freelance piece I'm doing for an online magazine. My first idea was to do something about on-line dating, like the top ten things guys do wrong in their profiles. I have only looked at them in the academic sense, research, you see, not for personal reasons. I am perfectly happy in my utter solitude. What one finds on these sites is that men on the whole seem to not understand what women are looking for. I am certain that if I took the time to investigate the female profiles, I'd see a whole host of cringe-worthy mistakes--perhaps involving photos of the a woman surrounded by 15 of her cats or old high school photos, twenty years out of date with the girl in her cheerleading/band outfit or profiles with titles like, "Is Prince Charming Out There or Does He Only Exist in My Personal Fantasies About Patrick Dempsey?" But since I am absolutely too busy to be fair in my critique, I'll just offer a few "don't...

Lisa Marie and I came up with a new term that explains the phenmenon when you're around someone who is so awkward and uncomfortable in his/her own body that they are able to spread that discomfort out into the wider world around them. An example would be as follows: Group of people at an art opening. A seemingly very obviously gay man joins the conversation. He wears a pink shirt, bell bottom pants and speaks in a very girlish, feminine way, frequently saying things like, "Yeah, and so then I told him I'd just give him a jingle the next day..." Most people just assume he's gay and it's the art community and he's an artist and a decorator and owns small dogs and everyone is fine with it. But then, when he joins the circle of people, he announces, "Well, I'm getting married! Ding-a-ling-a-ling!" Everyone at first thinks he means to another man and so they're congratulating him, but then the guy says, "She wanted a small ceremony at the...

Why so sad? Why do you never smile, even when I leave you a dollar on a tab of $1.75 so that you will like me better? Is it because you are located on 13th and Pine and seem to attract a steady cluster of homeless people who sit at the outside tables rolling their own cigarettes and then breezing in to use the bathroom in the basement? Is it because you are an artist and you know that your talents are being squandered as customers demand you to make them vanilla lattes with a shot of hazelnut? Is it because the loud, jarring music that you play enhances your anger; that the daily dose of Rage Against the Machine (meant, possibly, to keep individuals from staying at the coffee shop indefinitely) reinforces your sense of disenfranchisement and boyish angst? You're cute, with your round glasses perpetually fogged by the steamer and your dark bangs that hang over your eyes, but I don't think you care if girls find you attractive. You're probably jaded from the continual stream ...

I didn't see the movie, but I checked out the book from the free library last week and started it yesterday and fell deeply in love with the story right away, mostly because I identified with the young girl, Briony, she of the dramatic stories about princes and dark-haired young maidens. She's thirteen and stuck between the world of make-believe and the "real" world of adult problems and concerns. I remember being that age too and having a sense that I was about to lose something really important; the ability to get whole-heartedly caught up in a story or game. The make-believe world was great company. Lisa Marie and I went into this strange store in South Philly yesterday; a cramped shop with window decorations including many Jesus' and bunnies and also, a row of ornately dressed lady dolls. I had a sudden wish that I still could play with dolls because I used to love, love, love to do that (don't worry, I'm not regressing. I'm not going to start wear...