Things That Happen at 3 AM

I'm very fond of the F. Scott Fitzgerald quote, "In a real dark night of the soul it is always three o'clock in the morning."

Sadly, I'm not fond of this because I just love The Crack Up, but because the line was featured in a Peanuts strip I read many moons ago.

Speaking of many moons... here's how my life has evolved at 3 am over the years:

Age 17 - at 3 am you would have found me, a fashionable high school dropout/homeless person, ingesting any number of drugs at any number of homes in downtown Dallas.

Age 27 - at 3 am you would have found me, a slightly less fashionable Los Angeleno, leaving the Silverlake nightclub I worked at and heading home to my groovy garage apartment in Atwater Village. Sometimes alone. Sometimes accompanied by a dopey musician whose intellect may have been sorely lacking.

Age 37 - at 3 am you would have found me, the word fashion no longer applying, last night, in bed in rural Kentucky with the husband and the dog, watching Simon & Simon after finishing Stephenie Meyer's Twilight.

Goodness. I don't know what to make of this. I meant for it to be amusing but man, does that not sound like the real dark night of the soul or what?!!

I cannot believe I used to love Simon & Simon. I had a crush on Jameson Parker and everything. However, last night's ep, "Trapdoors", featuring Robbie Rist (cousin Oliver from The Brady Bunch), as a delinquent youth who plays "Angels and Demons" (like Dungeons and Dragons, only better! Is this how Dan Brown got the name for his book?) and hacks into a local bank's computer to steal $740 (using a rotary phone and an old-school War Games era modem), was so horrifically bad I can only offer up the fact that I was 11 as an excuse. Also, my affections seem to have moved from JP to Gerald McRaney. He sure was clever and handsome as he tracked a kidnapper using only his wits and a super tacky directional mic that kept squealing with feedback.

Today I'm starting New Moon, the sequel to Twilight. I'm not sure how I feel about these books. They're fairly well written but sound like a 14-year old girl's idea of the perfect relationship (brilliantly gorgeous sophisticated 100-year old vampire falls in love with awkward and clumsy truck driving teenager and declares, "You are my life" after hanging out with her three times). As annoying as this is, I'm hooked and will see these glorious undead to their co-dependent conclusion. If there is one. I'm contemplating moving on to Anne Rice as I somehow bought but never read Interview With a Vampire and The Vampire Lestat. If anyone out there has any great vampire fiction recommendations, do let me know. Things I would do if I could live forever: learn German, Korean, Photoshop and how to use my SB-800. Am I the most boring person or what? I would totally squander eternal life, but I would be a damn good photographer by the end(less) of it!

Right now I'm watching the series finale of Extras. Again. God, this was depressing - a real slit your wrists episode - especially all those desperate scenes of Ashley Jensen cleaning toilets to Kate Bush's "This Woman's Work". Or wait, the Clive Owen scene might have been worse. I must say I loved the ending, though. Andy and Maggie fly off to the sea, fame be damned. I cannot help but heart Ricky Gervais.

However, before I went for grim and painful, I sat through How to Look Good Naked with Carson Kressly. This show is about a thousand times better than Tim Gunn's Guide to Style. CK is way more fun and there's no bitchy Veronica Webb making snooty comments about the clueless Bridge & Tunnel types they featured. This show is on Lifetime which triggers my automatic gag reflex, but I'll probably watch again.

Alrighty, I've blathered on quite enough on this dreary Saturday afternoon. Tom's gone off to Nashville to do more studio stuff for his record thingy so I'm left here to cuddle up with the tely and the garanimals.

A lovely weekend to you,
Ms. P