And ... scene!

It's been a long day and I don't have anything witty or interesting to share. So, you are stuck with The Daily Doxies. Doing what I'm about to go do myself.

Cuz that's how we roll.

I keep it in perspective.

I'm wallowing a bit.

I drove 40 minutes to Far Southern Suburb to hang out with Mr. Interwebnets yesterday. I live in a small post-war suburb that's exactly 12 minutes from downtown. I'm not all Urban Hipster. But when the driving directions include four different highways and miles and miles of farmland? I get a little itchy.

Mr. Interwebnets and I had a nice time - Chinese food and a movie. But on that long, dark drive home, when I felt like the only car on the highway? I felt so totally alone.

I can't believe I'm here. I can't believe that I'm almost 34 and I'm driving to BFE in the hopes of finding happiness with a man I met on the Internet. I can't believe I'm here again.

I'm exhausted.

I love my life. I have great friends, a wonderful family, a nice little house, a job I enjoy. But I still can't quite believe that I'm here ... alone. I'm glad that I didn't get married the weekend after college graduation ... or the weekend after high school graduation, for that matter, because I did grow up in that town. I'm glad I've had time to figure me out.

But I'm just amazed. And lonely. And know that in wallowing, I'm not focusing on the really good stuff, like how I had cereal and chocolate chip cookies for dinner because ah-ha! I live alone! And in the past, I have missed alone time when I suddenly wasn't alone anymore.

But right now? Right now, I feel like the only single woman in the history of the universe.

However, the serious illness of an important scientist did make me laugh and laugh today.

No, not his actual illness - more like my illiteracy.

CNN.com reported today:

Scientist and author Stephen Hawking is "very ill" and has been hospitalized, according to Cambridge University, where he is a professor ... Hawking, one of the world's most famous physicists, is also a cosmologist, astronomer, and mathematician.

Stephen Hawking is a cosmetologist? Like, OMG! I had no idea. I bet his hair designs are totally cutting edge.

And, with that, let's all say a prayer for the poor man who has been living with ALS (Lou Gehrig's Disease) for 40 years. Which is, let's be honest, worse than being single in your 30s.

Yeah, I'm a total stage mother.

Remember when Foxie Doxie and Lil' Frankfurter put together a blockbuster movie event that put Nicholas Cage's latest drivel to shame?

Yeah. Me too. Their egos are now huuuuge.

Well, we've been thinking about their next career move. The lovely Marsha at Tumble Fish Studio had a great suggestion:

Hey, Xanadu is on. I don't know why but I thought of you and your doxies. Can they skate? I see another movie script in your future. Isn't it about time we had another roller skating magical musical?

You know, it is about time we had another roller skating magical musical. I feel like there's an important element missing from movies today, and that element is rollerskating.

Confession time: I never really learned how to rollerskate. I was cool at the skating rink for approximately 10 minutes in 1984 because I knew all the words to Weird Al's "Eat It." But actual skating? Umm, not so much.

So, teaching Foxie and Lil' Frank to skate is a challenge. Nevermind the fact that they have to coordinate four paws, not just two, and that Frank pees when he gets nervous. And if you've never experienced a dog peeing as he rollerskates around your house? Well, consider yourself lucky.

So, right now we're looking for stunt doubles to do all the skating.

Foxie is relieved.

But Frank's acting classes are really paying off - he feels he's really captured the magic of Olivia Newton-John's performance.

Olivia:

Lil' Frank:
The other piece of the puzzle is casting the role of Danny, originally portrayed by My Dead Celebrity Boyfriend, Gene Kelly.

You might look at this pic and be all, "Uh, Cha Cha? He's your dead celebrity boyfriend?"

But friends! Watch Singin' in the Rain! Behold Gene before he was trying to make rollerdisco look cool!

Try not to lick your computer screen. I dare you.

So, obviously, casting is really a problem with this Xanadu remake. The stunt doubles and a Gene Kelly stand-in who is even remotely appropriate are hard to find. So, the doxies and I are looking for other opportunities.

Lil' Frank wants to star in a romantic comedy, but I think he needs to get fully potty trained first. Foxie is championing a buddy flick, sort of a Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid for the canine set. And, of course, we're working on adapting Cher's "Gypsies, Tramps and Thieves" into a screenplay. Getting the rights to that one is tough.

In the meantime, much like The Jonas Brothers, the doxies are in high demand. Any movie suggestions?

Images courtesy of Google Images.

Drugs and Doogie.

Today was date number three with Mr. Interwebnets. We had lunch and then bummed around this afternoon. I was a bit run down today ... so when he left, I sort of rested on the couch.

FOR THREE HOURS.

Yes, you read that correctly. I took a three-hour nap. My mom is certainly on the verge of passing out, as my taking a three-hour nap was her greatest desire during my childhood - and always way, way out of reach.

Sorry, Mom.

I feel like I have been sick 4-EVAH. First the cold. Then the sinus infection. Then the antibiotics that make me feel like poop on a stick.

And really, what's better than reading someone's complaints about being slightly under the weather?

But here's the deal: I have one more day of antibiotics. I feel very "One Day More" from Les Miz.

One day more 'til revolution!
These drugs can fuck themselves!
I'm so tired of feeling like crap
That punk at Walgreens is a thuuuuug!

Few people know it, but those were actually the original lyrics. They were revised - something about Walgreens and antibiotics not having anything to do with the French revolution. Whatever.

So, I can't find a suitably tacky version of "One Day More," but here's a fantastic version of "Confrontation" featuring Jason Segel and Neil Patrick Harris.

Sadly, NPH isn't riding a unicorn in this clip, although that's always how I picture him.

Enjoy. And rejoice in the imminent end of Cha Cha Feels Like Crap blogging!



Image courtesy of God. And Google Images.

Social butterfly.

Tonight, I'm going to Big Stoopid Gala. It should be fun, but I'm most excited about wearing my glam new shoes.

So, I thought I'd show off the shoes.

Turns out, I had some help. So, instead of showing off the shoes, it's really more of a photo essay entitled "Living With Lil' Frankfurter, Style Guru."
Mother, what are you doing?

Foxie, check these out.

Please tell me you aren't going out wearing those shoes with jeans rolled up like that. Please. Don't make me stage an intervention.

-Fin-

In other social news, I received the most awesome intro e-mail on match.com. Most of the online dating communication I feature here is paraphrased to protect the guilty. But this one? I just have to post in all of its glory.

Keep in mind that I don't know this man from a can of paint and this is his very first communication with me. And his last.

I don't know if I ramble too much in these or not. I'm a really cool guy. I can show you a good time. I'll pay for everything unless you insist on buying. I miss my friends. I'm not a native of . I don't know very many people this far South. I live at like . I work crazy hours in the winter, which isn't too bad considering it's cold and nasty. I love to joke around a lot. I don't know how to describe myself in writing. All the women I know and haven't dated complain about the guys on line. I am not looking for a one night stand. I'm not a perv. I just wish I could find a great girl that isn't afraid to joke around and have a good time. Someone that doesn't have to drink a six pack every night. Someone who is self confident. I swear I'm a crazy magnet and it has brought me here. I want to meet someone I can take serious. It gets pretty lonely here with all my friends living to far away to just drop on in. I can't even get them to come down this far to see me even if I offer up free beer. I have to pack up and head up North to visit them. I just can't do that very often. I think I've written to many of these. I'm starting to wonder if it is really all it is hyped up to be. I'm not a loser. I'm not ugly. I shower. I work. I brush my teeth...all of them. I've been told I'm a good kisser. I'm confident and good at what I do. I can be very artistic if inspired. I have 2 cars and a motorcycle I live in a huge apartment with my cat. He's crazy and running around like mad right now. I love him though. I don't know what else to say. I'm not needy. I'm not mean. I'm not violent. It would hurt me to have to hurt someone I cared about so I don't. I don't fight or argue. I am perhaps too easy going or nice. I had a girlfriend breakup with me once because I was too good to be true. I never got that one but she was a bit crazy. I only have myself to spoil. I'd love to have someone else to spoil. I'm running out of things I want. And I have everything I need. I'm ready to settle down and be a great boyfriend. I'd like to know more about you.

Later,

Guy

Oh, Guy. I'm allergic to cats. Sorry.

Important lessons.

I learned a few things this weekend.

1. No matter how hard I try, I will never be as tall as my brother. Notice that he is slouching and I am thinking tall to no avail.
2. Shih tzus do not appreciate the full Nelson wrestling hold. Also, Poochie is brilliant.3. Balancing the demands of children is a challenge.

4. Sort of like last year, when they inadvertently exchanged the exact same card for their anniversary, my parents often think alike. They did not coordinate their outfits on purpose, nor did they consider the photo ops of Easter Sunday. However, they are just the most gorgeous couple in the universe.

And shih tzus like to be held, just not in a full Nelson.

I am rich. RICH!

Disappointment.

On my Easter recap, the lovely Green Girl left this comment:

glad to see you had a rock bus of loveless holiday! remember, recovery is one day at a time, cha cha!

Oh, Melissa. I'm sorry. And I'm mostly sorry that the show isn't actually called Rock Bus of Love. Because that rocks!

Sunday was the Rock of Love Bus season finale. Would Bret choose Whiny-But-Nice-Girl Mindy?

Or Prissy-Yet-You've-Seen-My-Vajayjay Taya?

Of course I had to watch.

Bret took the ladies to the Dominican Republic. First up was his date with Mindy. Is it just me, or is it creepy that Bret picked out the dress Mindy was to wear on their date?

It's not just me. Creepy!

And is it just me, or does Mindy have some issues if she wrote five pages of notes on what she wanted to say to Bret, but barely was able to make dinner conversation, despite the fact those five pages of notes were in her purse the whole time?

As for Taya ... she managed to pose even while zip-lining through the jungle on her date with Bret. She's a little too pose-tastic for me. At one point, she addressed the question of whether she was on the show for publicity about her Penthouse spread (in more ways that one) by saying, "It's not like I am walking around in a Penthouse t-shirt or something!"

God love the producers, who then cut to Taya wearing a Penthouse Pet tank top.

So, Bret chose Taya, who looked like she was going to barf during the final scene. And after, she was all, "I can't believe it! I'm Bret's rock of love!"

It was unsettling. He should have chosen Mindy. I have been so unsettled by this that I couldn't even write about it yesterday, and today, I'm still at a bit of a loss. Maybe I'm just sad that there's the reunion show next week, and then I will be adrift, a woman without a television obsession. Or maybe I've been in denial and the camp factor blinded me to the fact that it's all just fake, fake, fake. I heard Mindy on the radio this morning, and she admitted that she's doing the reality show star circuit and looking for parts in movies - oh, and by the way, she's still totally heartbroken over Bret.

Then, I heard that Bret got a cool $2 million for the show.

Then, I reread the match.com e-mail that basically called me a heathen and I freaked the fuck out. I'm not a stripper! I'm not a porn star! I have never been on a reality show where I dressed like a whore and let some weave-wearing rocker slip me a probably-syphilitic tongue upon our first meeting! I am practically a nun compared to these girls! I'm a nice girl! And, oh, great, I just spent 12 hours of my life being told yet again that nice girls never get the guy. Great. Thanks for the reminder.

So, Green Girl, the finale finally broke me. I am so over Rock of Love.

But of course I'll have to watch the reunion show. You know, for closure.

Images courtesy of vh1.com.