I know I'm 12+ months late on this, but it's such an outrage to me that anyone should steal "the scream" (the munch painting). if I had to list the five works of art that, to me personally, must never be lost, it would be on there. and no one seems to be making a big enough deal about it to suit me. I'll bet the precious mona lisa would command a bit more attention.

on tv, people are forever taking their significant others to quiet, dignified restaurants to break up with them "so they won't make a scene." that's really wonky to me. hello? break it off in private--house, car, etcetera--then what does it matter? the more expensive the venue the more of a scene I'd feel obliged to make, myself.

apparently whenever something on a film set didn't go to greta garbo's liking, she threatened to go back to sweden. she got her way every time. that's so awesome. whenever something doesn't go my way from now on, I'm threatening to go back to sweden. that'll show em.

slim mints are a very effective diet aid. but not if you ever want to sleep again. I'm afraid that I may have to give them up in favor of getting back to my coveted eight hours per night.

best place to be in the 1920s: sitting around the algonquin round table. worst place to be: not sitting around the algonquin round table but on the shit list of someone who was.

I forgot to mention how much neat stuff I found when I cleaned off the bed in the front bedroom so the carpet cleaning folks wouldn't have so much to work around. most of what was piled on it has been there since we've moved in, I've been so loathe to sort through it. it included:

--cameras: one 35mm, one digital, and one mini dv video camera
--a stuffed alligator named starla
--many pieces of clothing, including two cashmere sweaters valued at approximately $380
--dvds and cds beyond counting
--a magic 8 ball
--an hp deskjet color printer
--a megaphone
--an overnight bag
--last year's tax return
--my graduation mortarboard

...and ever so much more.