Oh my God, Kurt Vonnegut died.

It was my dream to meet him and now I am absolutely devastated. I knew he was old and had some health problems, but he was obviously supposed to hold out just a bit longer so I could visit him.

I am so sad.

But since I know he was a secular humanist, I will at least humor him with this: I bet he's up in heaven, smiling down on us.

Damn, I loved that man.

In a world where spammers seem to be squatting on nearly every decent website domain name, it warms my heart to see that ThirdReichDepot.com is an honest-to-God, fully functioning online store. (Okay, so it's just memorabilia, but still! What a name!)

In other news, I think that what I've been missing in my life as of late is the kind of friend who would unironically display something like this Ocean of Love figurine in their home:



And I actually mean that (somewhat) sincerely: if you can appreciate a sculpture of mermice without the need to refer to it as kitschy or tacky, you are probably a (relatively) simple person and your mere existence would uncomplicate mine.

I probably just offended the three people on my friends list who actually list "mermice" as an interest.

Also, today Grammy-award-winning songstress Toni Braxton decided to send me an email about "hairy pussies."



I haven't quite figured out what she's trying to tell me with this, but I bet it's big. And hairy.

I'm taking these three seemingly insignificant things as signs that March is going to be a super fantastic month for me. I mean, why not? Yay, optimism!

We saw Al Gore today. He was in Berkeley to urge people to vote "yes" on Proposition 87, which will tax Big Oil and fund alternative energy programs.



He showed up in a hybrid with "100+ MPG" painted on the side, but he had such a heavy police escort that I'm sure his travel wasn't as efficient as he'd like us to believe. Of course, I don't know if he'd even be allowed to travel without all of the security so it's a moot point. Besides, ever since I saw An Inconvenient Truth, I've been a big fan of the former Vice President, so a small amount of hypocrisy from a man who has done so much good seems permissable, no?

Security was on him at all moments except when he was on stage. He stood by a tree as he was waiting to be introduced, and that tree was surrounded by men in suits. Police officers were wearing riot gear. All understandable but unnecessary precautions, because this was Berkeley: the only statement that got a negative reaction from the crowd was given by some man (Steve Bing, maybe?) who said it was so great to be near Palo Alto and Stanford. Dude, duh.

But it was a beautiful California day, and Gore got the crowd excited about alternative energies or, at least, about him, and I was very glad I was able to take a long lunch to see a man who I've only recently learned to respect but who has earned so much of that respect in the past few months.

Yesterday was Leon's quarter-of-a-century birthday, and we celebrated at Radio Alice's Now and Zen Fest (site is currently down). Our primary interest in the concert was Carbon Leaf, who opened the five hour show with a set that was no longer than twenty minutes.

After this, lead singer Barry Privett signed autographs at the merchandise booth, so Leon and I waited in line with a bunch of teenage girls to get their latest CD signed. In fact, Leon was one of only a handful of male fans, not because Carbon Leaf is a pretty boy band, but because Privett is attractive enough that, coupled with the allure of being in a band, he might be called "dreamy."

He signed a lot of the girls' arms, which I guess is the twee version of a Sharpie to the breast. One of Privett's newly branded groupies walked away from the merchandise booth exclaiming how she was, like, never going to wash her upper arm again. Like, seriously.

Leon stood in line thinking about what he would say when it was his turn. I told him that he didn't have to say anything; he could just thrust the CD at the guy and he'd probably know what to do with it. But I think Leon felt this would be a waste of a perfect opportunity to let Privett know that his music had made Leon's world a better place.

Ever since I introduced Leon to Carbon Leaf earlier this year, he sings their songs as he does the dishes and pipes their music through the apartment when he's on his computer. He purchased all of their CDs and has enthusiastically begun introducing other people to them. In short, Carbon Leaf's music has had a big impact on Leon's life.

And so, when the last gaggle of giggly girls stepped away from Carbon Leaf's singer--each of them now sporting green ink on their soon-to-be-filthy biceps--it was Leon's turn. Leon inched forward towards Privett, who was difficult to see beneath a baseball cap and aviator sunglasses, but Leon seemed to look beyond him, determined to deliver the two sentences that he had rehearsed while standing in line.

"I-like-your-music-will-you-sign-my-CD?" Leon said.

Privett took the CD, signed it, and handed it back, as Leon and I each let out a laugh at our success and the absurdity of the entire situation.

"I like your music; will you sign my CD?" I said back at Leon.

"He told me 'thank you,'" Leon said. I hadn't heard him say it, but Leon insists that he did.

And it's a good thing that he did. Otherwise, Leon might have felt foolish, amidst all those teenage girls on his 25th birthday, wanting to tell the musician that he has subtly improved upon his life. Thank you, Carbon Leaf.

I emailed Leon to ask if he'd heard about Mel Gibson's DUI.

His response made me giggle:

Crazy. Here's Mel Gibson's technique for success:

1) Get drunk.
2) Blame the Jews.
3) ?
4) Profit!

Actually, it's completely permitted for religious people to drink and drive. You know the story about the footprints on the beach? Well, Jesus is my designated driver.

I met Jeff Hawkins, the founder of Palm, last night. And I didn't just shake his hand; I actually had a conversation with him. He asked about where I work and what I do. He may have been slightly distracted by the Giants baseball game taking place nearby but he had the suave people skills of someone who can create and run a successful company and so I felt as though I had the majority of his attention for several minutes.

Today Leon met Bill Atkinson, who is also big and famous in his own right. He is working as a contractor at the company where Leon is interning this summer. Leon said, "[Atkinson]'s come out of retirement to work on this project because he thinks it's bigger than the creation of the Internet."

So Leon and I are networking! (But not really.) Mostly, Leon is networking and I'm riding his coattails because I am his wife.

Last night we went to the Giants game with his coworkers, and I was amazed at how nice they all were. I seem regularly to be amazed at how nice some people are; I just don't expect it. Ever.

And Leon's interaction with his coworkers amazed me as well, because he too has suave people skills, and I've watched him develop these over the last several years. I think he always has been good at interacting with people on a formal or professional level and also at making small talk. Every now and again, I see him act a bit awkward or say something that doesn't receive the desired reaction. But all in all, he's good with people--much better than I am.

And so we have met some big names in the tech world, and Leon gets to make a solid impression while I stand by and admire him all the more.

Aww, I am jealous!

Since Leon is friends with Ankur, he got to meet Wes and Cher today. They're in Berkeley to cast season 3 of "Beauty and the Geek." They even approached Leon about it, but being married makes him ineligible.



So for those of you who didn't watch the show, Cher won with her partner Josh (not pictured). That's Leon next to her and Wes, the "geek" boyfriend she met on the show. Ankur is in the foreground.

They scheduled interviews that they'll hold tomorrow. Go Cal!

We were awoken this morning around 9:00 by repair work on our roof. Directly overhead, we could hear loud hammering and what must have been stampeding buffalo. Assholes.

Last night was insane. I couldn't get over the number of green-clad people out in North Beach, many of them toting those jumbo beer cans in brown paper bags. The city felt so alive and so very, very drunk.

And we saw a fight. An honest-to-God fight between two groups of men that resulted in one guy bleeding from the forehead. What was scary about it was that no one was being reasonable. Two guys went at it for whatever reason (this was happening on the sidewalk while we were in a cafe), and their presumably less drunk friends didn't try to break them up. Rather, they got into it too.

One guy was being held to the ground, and another just came up and punched him while he was down. And the one that was doing the holding received an atomic wedgie from someone who didn't appear to be involved at all. The wedgie giver then darted across the street and to safety.

But a wedgie in a street fight? I couldn't believe it! Everyone in the cafe was on their feet by the window watching this happen. It was so crazy, I can't even explain.

The police were out in full force too. I tried to snap some pictures with my camera phone of three police cars arriving on the scene across the street from us. Some guy said to me, "You're taking pictures?" and I said, "Of course." I think it was a pretty natural reaction to the situation, whereas with the fight, I was so paralyzed and my heart was racing that it didn't dawn on me until after the men had all left the scene that maybe I should've taken a photo or two.

Anyway, here's the best of my blurry photos of the police.



We also enjoyed a nice dinner with some friends:


Juliet and Ryan.


Divya, Lenny, and Ben.

And there were desserts and hot, caffeinated beverages aplenty.


Louis and Alex.

And please, please, please excuse this terrible picture of me, but we did get to meet Colin Quinn! It's really a bad angle for me, and all my make up has been worn off and I'm drunk, but should you care? No, because I got to meet Colin Quinn and that means I'm still cool!


Me, Colin Quinn!, and Leon.

I'm a little surprised that Crash won the Oscar tonight, although there was talk of it being the only movie that could upset Brokeback Mountain, and obviously it did.

I was pleased to see Philip Seymour Hoffman win best actor, but I did wish Joaquin Phoenix would have taken it. I love Hoffman but Phoenix just amazed me in Walk the Line. Jon Stewart was right, though, that Walk the Line is just Ray with white people. And I think that had some influence on the Oscar voters.

The biggest disappointment of the evening was Jasper Morello's loss. I simply cannot believe that Son & Moon won the animated short feature. It was clearly the weakest out of the four that Leon and I saw.

But Hustle and Flow's win in the original song category made me feel much better. I'm not saying that it was the best song, but it was a nice change of pace. And it was great to see people who were absolutely ecstatic to win.

Other observations:

I'm glad that Jon Stewart used Stephen Colbert in his fake lobbying clips. Colbert amuses me to no end.

I had to fast forward (thanks, TiVo!) past Dolly Parton singing "Travelin' Thru" after she exclaimed, "From Dollywood to Hollywood!" So annoying. I would've suffocated her in her gigantic mammories if I could have.

Reese Witherspoon's acceptance speech was sweet. She looked beautiful, but that's nothing new. I think she seems like such a charming woman.




Meanwhile, Naomi Watts' dress was ugly and unflattering. She's such an attractive woman but all that tulle on the bodice of her dress was a bad idea.



Otherwise, I'd say the show went over as expected. Very few surprises in awards or fashion. And, actually, I didn't feel in the dark for not yet having seen Good Night, and Good Luck or Munich. Despite feeling that I wasn't very interested in the Oscars this year, I had seen quite a few nominees. And I was reasonably excited by the whole process.

But I'm also glad that it's over and the pressure to see so many films in such a short time frame is over. I did make Leon see Brokeback Mountain with me over the weekend but now we're free up to see whatever big-budget Blockbuster is raking in the dough this week.

I woke up this morning with my lips looking as though they were pumped full of collagen. It was like those bad plastic surgery pictures of Jessica Simpson that have been circulating the past few months.



The main difference is that mine are the result of severely chapped lips--a phenomenon that has plagued me nearly all winter, despite no recollection of having chapped lips before.

Now they're pealing and cracking and so irritated that they actually hurt.

Anyway, I'm nearly through an entire tube of Chapstick this season with no noticeable signs of improvement. So I guess it's time to up the ante and try something more heavy duty.

Amy suggested Neosporin, but I'm somewhat wary of that not being the product's intended purpose. Also, saying no to spicy food would be helpful, but after last night's heavenly hot and sour soup, I'm making no promises.

I can't believe I'm sharing this, because it probably isn't even funny, but here it is. I just laughed hysterically at the comments on this post. And the pictures are pretty good too.

Leon and I went to Los Angeles last weekend and stayed with his semi-famous aunt Zelda, who you may know from the Poltergeist movies.

It was incredibly strange cruising around LA with someone who strangers recognized and complimented. The first time she was spotted was at the zoo on Saturday. A smiling couple approached us and the man said, "I know who you are, you famous person." Obviously, Zelda isn't famous enough for this man to know her name, but he recognized her face and her small frame.

She took us to dinner with her screenwriter friend Ian, who currently is working with Warner Bros and whose writing partner wrote Matchstick Men. He is only 23.

Most of the items on the menu at this place were a la carte, which confused the hell out of me and Leon. We looked at each other when Ian and Zelda both said they were going to have the filet mignon, a $31 slab of meat without side dishes (you know, a la carte). I wanted to order what they ordered so I'd look less clueless but thought it'd be lame to order what everyone else had, so I got the orange roughy. Leon had salmon--no surprise there.

After dinner, we went to see the musical Chicago, which I hadn't seen in nearly eight years. It was amazing and ten times better than the movie, which isn't bad but it takes itself too seriously and cuts out half the music and most of the humor. The cast included Gregory Harrison and Patti LaBelle.

About three quarters of the way through her solo "When You're Good to Mama," Patti LaBelle got a nosebleed. The blood dripped onto the top of her breasts and onto the stage. We could see it; our seats were so close. She made a comment about it, took a tissue from the conductor, and continued. After a minute of wiping and dabbing at her nose, she stuck the tissue in one of her nostrils, cracked up the lead actresses, and received a round of applause.

Zelda had gotten us some sort of VIP passes, which entitled us to use a VIP lounge with private bathroom and have drinks at intermission. Unfortunately, there wasn't enough time at intermission for any of this and the VIP lounge was down a flight of stairs that Zelda's wheelchair obviously wouldn't permit her to go. I felt terrible that she paid extra for the VIP service (unless she has some sort of connection--she seems to have a lot of those) and then didn't get to use it.

I think she got her money's worth, though, when we got to go backstage. I thought she must've known some stage manager and we'd get to look at the set and shuffle around the wings for a bit. Needless to say, I was very surprised when we were ushered backstage and led toward a door that read: Patti LaBelle.

That's right: I met Patti LaBelle!

Zelda introduced us and we shook her hand. Zelda apparently knew her assistant and had met Patti before, so they all chatted and caught up and there was an exchange of phone numbers. I probably mouthed "Oh my God!" to Leon several times, although I think I was pretty calm throughout the whole event. I couldn't wait to tell my parents, because they were awfully starstruck by Zelda (who knows how they'd act if they met Patti LaBelle?).

All in all, it was a fun trip and I've left out a gazillion things, but I knew I'd regret it if I didn't write down the main events of the trip. I'll try and share more later but for now I must return to work.

I talked to my mom on the phone last night, and she told me that one of my high school classmates is making it big in Hollywood. She had spoken with this boy's mother at the store and now my family (and surely the entire town of Quincy, Illinois) is excited about the March DVD release of American Pie 4: Band Camp.

So I confirmed this tidbit with IMDb and indeed, my classmate, Tad Hilgenbrinck, has the lead in this straight-to-video flick. He plays Matt Stifler, Stifler's little brother. IMDb also pictures of him at the Meet the Fockers premiere.





He looks handsome. Go him.

I wonder if he'll actually make it--if he'll actually be a star. If he were Trumpet Player #3 in this Band Camp movie, I wouldn't wonder. But the starring role? That's definite potential. Plus, he's only a year older than me, so he has plenty of years ahead of him to make the first film in a franchise, instead of the fourth.

And do I hope he succeeds or am I bitter? I guess I hope the best for him. We weren't exactly friends--more like people who shared a few classes, had mutual acquaintances, and knew who the other was. He was big into the drama club, and I remember how he made the best of things when he didn't receive the starring role in the musical his senior year (losing to a junior must've hurt). He even shaved half of his head for his supporting role, so that he'd look like a balding man (although his hair was too thick to make it seem believable and it just looked weird).

I remember how, for a time, he carried around a notebook and sketched pictures of women's dresses, because he said he wanted to be a costume designer. I thought this was really smart: The guy obviously loved theater, but he was looking for another, less traveled path in. Looks like he didn't need it.

Of course, what I remember most is that he and my sister hated each other in junior high. He took pleasure in learning (through poor, honest me) that she would be punished for some stupid juvenile stunt. Seriously, that may have been the happiest I ever saw him.

Prior to that, he told my sister that she "was going to hell for lying," and Sara used to reenact his holier-than-thou delivery of that line.

So, to me, he'll always be Tad Hilgenbrinck, part-time religious hysteric and full-time drama freak. Now, he is apparently the Class of 1999's Most Likely To Do Full Frontal Nudity in an Edgy Independent Film. I'd say that's a step up.

I love the Oscars!

( Movie opinions that will bore most anyone. )

Does anyone have any pointers for contacting a celebrity without using one of those absurd pay sites?

My mom's class wrote essays to Quentin Tarantino, but finding any contact information for him or even Miramax seems like a ridiculous World Wide Web Where's Waldo? (Sorry; I can never resist alliteration.)

I'm equally puzzled that Tarantino has no official site and that Miramax lists no contact information on theirs. What am I doing wrong?

Two more returned e-mails, but one person is willing to do a phone or e-mail interview.

That means, I have something confirmed on Elvis, no current inquiries about James Dean, and some question marks over Michael Jackson, Elizabeth Taylor, and Marilyn Monroe. I think I need a break.

I will be disappointed if I can find nothing on James Dean, because he's a personal fascination. Last year, he was the basis for the short story I wrote in fiction. I remember that in one of my workshops, some girl complained that she didn't even know who James Dean was. The rest of the class just ignored her.

Leon's that way, too, though. I think I've quadrupled his pop culture knowledge in the two and a half years that we've dated. It's something that matters a lot more to me than to the average person. That's why this article could be so fulfilling if I can find people to talk to me, dammit.

I can find nothing about it except this link posted in statements, but apparently Jonathan Brandis died.

He was one of the dreamboats from my preteen years, so this is kind of shocking and surreal. It's like finding out that Zack Morris died. Anyway, Brandis was on that Seaquest show that was mildly popular in the early 90s and also starred opposite Rodney Dangerfield in Ladybugs, a classic film in which Brandis dresses as a girl to help a struggling soccer team.

This is too weird.

Am I the only person who thinks that Keira Knightley and Natalie Portman are the same person? Yes?

It is interesting that Knightley played Queen Amidala's double in The Phantom Menace. When I saw that movie, I assumed that Portman was playing both roles. I think their resemblance is incredible, but I can't find (and am unwilling to embark on a lengthy search to find) two pictures that show them at their mirror-image best. Pictures from Star Wars would feel like cheating.

Real content one of these days.

EDIT: I should stop linking to imdb.com, because their pictures seem unreliable. The same thing happened with my picture of Wentworth Miller.

Last night, my entertainment journalism class attended a press screening of the upcoming Anthony Hopkins film, The Human Stain. To put it simply, it was wonderful.

After the film, we had a Q&A with one of the actors, Wentworth Miller. He plays the young version of Hopkins, and he came across as very bright and witty during the discussion. I guess that was his Princeton education shining through.

I don't have anything profound to say, but it was a fun experience. Oh, and Wentworth was awfully attractive. ;)

Leon and I saw Jerry Seinfeld last night. Wow. :)

I wasn't terribly excited about the show, although that may have just been because I've been too busy to sit down and daydream, "Wow, I can't wait until I see Seinfeld!" or something. I'm a big fan of the sitcom and his style of comedy, so I was certainly looking forward to it.

Anyway, the show was great. We were seated a million miles from the stage, but when he poked his head out from behind the curtain and the crowd went wild, I felt incredibly starstruck. I almost cried, I was so overwhelmed with feelings of "EEEEK! It's HIM!!"

One of my favorite jokes of the night--reinterpreted by me, of course:

"What's with all the baby products putting pictures of babies on them? How stupid do these people think we are? Do they think that we're going to buy a pack of Huggies, open them up, and say, 'Oh, I thought these were elegant dinner napkins. These look like something you'd put a baby's ass in. I'm not wiping my face on that.'"

:)