Katie Doyle, Girl About Town

Thursday, Dec. 12, 2002 - 2:03 a.m.

I am warmed to the core, my friends. I really am.

Many, many of my fellow Diarylanders seem to be in foul moods not bespelled of Christmas. Or perhaps they are bespelled of Christmas, which is why they are in their foul moods, but what I mean is that they have not fallen under the happy little ho-ho-ho spell of Christmas, and are, instead, trapped in the sodden snowfall of bitter disillusionment or bah-humbuggy Christmas suckiness, and while I realize this should not make me happy - coming, as it does, at the cost of another human being's happiness - I am relieved to know I am not the only person on the face of the Northern Hemisphere to be less than thrilled at the proximity of a holiday which is supposed to find you at your good cheery best.

So, my friends, I rejoice at the general crabbiness running rampant throughout the land.

Note: if one spells "through" t-h-r-u often enough, the word "throughout" becomes exceedingly difficult to type correctly. Just in case you were wondering.

Ironically, I had actually begun feeling somewhat less depressed and more Kris Kringle-ish somewhere in the middle of last night's entry. So it's kind of a bummer that so many of my D'land brethren are now distraught at the constant barrage of commercialism and stuff currently running rampant thru this section of the NH. (Northern Hemisphere; do try and keep up.*) Don't get me wrong; it's only sort of a bummer. I really am relieved to know I'm not the only one, and it adds to my good cheer to find out I'm not, because believe you me, I am just one frosted sugar cookie shy of the blackest mood imaginable. We're talking tenuous grasp, people; don't push it. But I did consent last night to buying and decorating a Christmas tree this weekend, so apparently the urge to snarl "a .38" when asked what I want for Christmas has at least temporarily subsided. Which is good. But still, let's just whisper from now on, 'kay? No sense in livin' life dangerously when you don't need to.

Actually, it's probably not all that ironic that I started to feel less depressed during last night's entry. Truth be told, I just like beginning a sentence with "ironically."

*To all intents and purposes, when I say Northern Hemisphere, what I mean to say is the US and Canada. I realize there are other parts to the NH. Greenland, for instance. I don't care about Greenland. Nobody lives there, anyway. If they did, their computers wouldn't work due to the cold (their lcd's would all freeze), and they would not be able to read this anyway, so who cares about Greenland?

Bygones.

I have always thought it a little ironic (I don't know what else it is, if not ironic) that between Greenland and Iceland, Greenland is the colder of the two countries and Iceland the greener. Huh.

You know what, it's probably paradoxical moreso than ironic. That reminds me: I really, really, really hate people who say "ironical". That drives me absofrigginlutely nuts.

Bygones.

David Hallyday sounds somewhat like Dave Gahan. I am having Depeche Mode flashbacks right now. Or perhaps this is not David Hallyday and is in fact Indochine. I am listening to a cd my Paris pal, MP, made, and sometimes I find it a little difficult to figure out what exactly it is I am listening to, seeing as it's all written in french. I believe in actuality, the group in question is Indochine, and not David Hallyday. David Hallyday, for those of you who care, is Michael Vartan's cousin. Michael Vartan plays Vaughn on Alias. Vaughn is Sydney Bristow's unrequited love interest. In fact, we only recently found out Vaughn has a fiancee. This did not enamour him to me; I already thought he had thin lips and that MP might think he's totally cute and the cat's meow, but seriously, that guy needs to grow his hair out a little into a decent, non-spiky style; spiky is soooo like five seconds ago. Sure, it's nice he can do his own looping for the french language version of Alias. Big deal. So could I. You know - if I spoke French. And were, like, a Big Time Television Actor.

Bygones.

So have you watched Muppet Christmas Carol yet, dear reader? You simply must, I insist. You will lose your bah-humbuggy bitterness and feel all is right with the world again. Seriously. Singing meeses. There's not a lot cuter than singing Muppet meeses. Sure, real singing meeses would probably be totally bitchin and cool and out-cute the Muppety ones, but since there are no singing meeses in the real world, we must content ourselves with the Muppets. Plus there are the singing bookkeeping rats, and those guys are also quite good with the Jamaican on the spot Harry Belafonte imitations. And while I don't think it's really appropriate to give credit to the loon that is Harry Belafonte these days, the rats are pretty funny. My favorite part of the movie involves an insult, Gonzo, Rizzo, a very high fence and jelly beans. You will know it when you see it. I laugh so hard I cry, for some reason. It's like that gag in Austin Powers 2 where every time Dr. Evil says "laser" and he makes the little air quotes when he says it, and for some reason I die laughing.

Okay, I'm a loon and a geek. I am bugging you to watch Muppet Christmas Carol. Seriously; was there ever any doubt???

I am so not bah-humbuggy today that I actually almost bought some Christmas dvd's. Muppet Christmas Carol, because my copy is an old vhs tape, and A Christmas Story, and I even toyed briefly with Rudolph, because I don't know where my copy is, and "White Christmas," with Bing and Danny and Rosemary Clooney, and the other chick whose name I suddenly can't remember (June Allyson?). That's a nice little Christmas movie, too. But the boyfriend won't sit thru that one, so I'll have to watch it on my own. I can't blame him; it is pretty much a chick flick.

In a bitter and cruel twist of fate, I was out shopping for cd's a few weeks ago, and I found the last cd that Jann Arden did. I already have Living Under June and Happy, but there was this third one, and I was all jazzed to see it, but I was buying cd's for other people, so I decided not to buy it just now. However, I decided today when I was buying cd's for someone else that what the heck, $13 is not that much money, and since I really like Jann Arden and am torturing myself buying cool music for other people, I will just go ahead and buy that one for me. Alas, the one copy they had had was gone. Gone, gentle reader. The sharp taste of defeat filled my mouth and crushed me beneath the weight of indifference. I didn't even know it existed until happening on to it and then when I go back to get it, it is GONE. ::sigh:: Life sucks. I *did* buy myself the new George Harrison that first time, instead of Jann Arden, and the new GH is NOT good. I could've had cool tunes I fully dug, and instead, I got some kind of warmed over mush much like what I imagine porridge or gruel must have tasted like in the days of Oliver Twist and David Copperfield. Can you imagine? All psyched up for the cool Beatle-ness or Travelling Wilbury blend of George Harrison and My Sweet Lord While My Guitar Gently Weeps End of the Line, and I got a vague mix of pseudo-country, slightly anti-commercial, audio cream of wheat. ::sigh:: Jann Arden was this close, and I settled for George Harrison. Who could ever have guessed that would be a bad call?

Actually, that's probably my farging karma biting me on the ass for buying a cd when I shouldn't really be buying anything. Instant Karma, indeed. That's a little ironic.

Yes it is; shut up.

Okay, time for the regular features here in Katie Land.

Excellent Quote(s) of the Day:
"I need a personal secretary to keep track of all the kick-ass stuff I am interested in. Like crazed turkeys." --Mimi Smartypants

This was actually from a few weeks back, but since I was absent for a while, and forgot to utilize it last night, I am trotting it out now. Deal with it.

I am having international Christmas right now. I put in the cd of French Christmas music MP made me last year. Joyeux Noel. :) You know, if I move to France, you people will have to keep me stocked in 'Mer'can music, because while the French have their big plusses, and their music isn't bad at all (some of it is quite enjoyable and very cool), I don't think there's a Jeff Buckley or Remy Zero in the bunch. I could be wrong.

How 'bout that Trent Lott? Dumbass. It says something about Idiotboy's character that he hasn't had much to say about the whole thing. Does anyone know if he even addressed it directly at all? I've only heard The Mouth (Ari "I Have No Conscience" Fleischer)on the subject.

Oh.
My.
God.
It's too horrible. I will just say I hate Wham and leave it at that, 'kay?

I have digressed again. You people really need to nip that in the bud.

Nosy Katie Doyle googlers: 1
# of MV golf debacle devotees: 1
# of searchers obsessed with lipcare: 2 (my favorite of the two being invention+of+chapstick)
# of sex-obsessed searchers: 3 - T&A Dork from AOL (still a loser, huh, pal?), a pedophile, and one with a really unhealthy interest in Jennifer Garner
International searchers: 2 (one of whom was the ped)
and hello to the newbie, "expedia.com+commerical"

Weirdest Search of the Day:
Winona+Ryder+nip+slip...I do NOT want to know.

Huh; Jingle Bells in France is Vive la Vent - Live the Wind. The French also consider Brahm's Lullaby a Christmas tune. There's not a Jingle Bell Rock on the whole thing. Not that that's a bad thing... BTB, shouldn't that be Jinglebell Rock, and not Jingle Bell, since "jinglebell" is one word? Cretins.

All right. I have dallied quite long enough with you people. I have a life to lead, you know.

I do so. Shut up.

Peace out,
Katie

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Yesterday's News - Next Stop

In which Katie shares sad news - Wednesday, Apr. 01, 2015
In which Katie returns after a very long absence - Monday, Jun. 25, 2012
In which Katie pokes her head in and brushes some of the cobwebs away - Thursday, May. 06, 2010
In which Katie asks you to write your congressman again. - Monday, Jun. 02, 2008
In which Katie asks you to please click the link and send the message to protect the rights of artists - Wednesday, May. 21, 2008