shello..this is MovieFone brought to you by Hot 97 and AOL…

i loved this flick! tis a chick flick for sure but it had moments of clarity beyond your normal idiotic romantic comedy…and the “meet cute.” parker posey really seemed like a girl on the verge…that, plus, her cute little A.P.C. outfits and flouncy skirts, and the massively scratched soundtrack by Scratch Massive were pretty brilliant. i love the way nora wilder just unravels and yet re-groups in the end. i don’t know if i’d be dumb enough to lose a guy’s cellphone number if i travelled all the way to Paris to be with him…but, as my Mommy would say, “it’s just a movie!” i wonder if this is a sign…should i just pack my bags (and baggage) and move to Paris? can’t i have my cake and Edith too? Quand il me prends dans son bras… hehe.

Paris in the Spring. Chestnuts in blossom. Bongos by the Seine. Cafe de Flore. But…bondage? Vibros and warm lubricants? Is this my springtime vacation in the City of Lights with Docteur Love? That’s what he hinted at plus pink champagne in the fridge. Oi. I think I’ve gotten too vanilla in my old age. What happened to romance? flowers? laughter in the rain? Yes I like pina coladas…getting caught in the rain…yes I am into disco…and I have half a brain…what about a nice Franz Ferdinand concert first? Maybe he saw “9 Songs” and was inspired. I dunno. “How it Feels for a Girl..” should be his inspiration. I had to explain foreplay to him. I don’t think it exists in the French lexicon. They might have to ship me back in a nice warm bodybag. Uhmm speaking of which, the plot sickens…or thickens. I feel like Anais Nin but the rated G version…my Henry Miller and my darling Hugo may have their showdown finally at the OK Corale. I told Docteur Love I would show up at La Mairie wearing a bikini made out of the French flag shouting up at the windows, “Docteur Love, c’est moi!” He said, “soit raisonnable.” What would Buddha do?

december 29, 2006. a night to remember. a night of bliss @ the Troc rockin’ in oblivion to the Psychedelic Furs, aka, the psychotic people’s party. tim butler sang, “ghost in you” and “heaven.” i could have died and gone to, well, you know where. it was like a retro 80s party. the lead singer hasn’t aged. he’s got so much verve still, and that song, “president gas” is spot-on. rock on, Furs!

this year ended not with a bang but a whimper…little implosions of the heart for those loved and lost…a peaceful resolve for what is…and giving thanks for those who have made it possible to expand my heart and world and life a little…to make it more spacious and serene…and to open me up to life as it is…to let go of what’s not meant to be…not to lose hope…and especially not to fear! the world is so much more…i’ve even re-thunk christmas and the tinsel and foil and gifts that used to mark this celebration….now i’ve got the Ghosts of Christmases past and memories…and Buddhism!…and the quiet and space to take care of all these bits of me that have gone missing in the shuffle…wishing everyone a blessed season of Hope, Love, Bliss and Good Cheer brought to us by the Christ Child and all those who still believe in miracles and the impossible!

ok, men and boys aside, my new reality is…the beach. yes, just like leo di caprio or brian wilson’s. i’ve become a certified beached whale! yes, i’ve succumbed to the island riddims, mon! pass de duchee to the left hand side…port? starboard? portishead? what’s dot mon? anyway, i had one teensy weensy sip of the island life in Boracay and once you’ve had that, you can never go back…that is, to your old life! it’s been a month now today since i was on those lovely white sands and my dream is to find a lovely home here and dance to de riddims all nite long…with bachelor number wan or two! or both! ya Mon!

my sweetie in paris has just informed me that he now looks like trevor murdoch (i haven’t seen him in a while) oh no! what a travesty! take thee to a gymnasium! he said the gyms in paris are like some exclusive club with prices like rent, but as he works for la Mairie, he gets a discount, so he pays only 600 euros per year! i can’t imagine him fat. phat maybe, but nowhere near fat. he thinks he looks like Marlon Brando during his Polynesian period, like something Gaugin might have painted if it kept on eating carbs with the Atkins Diet plan. But that would be totally absurd because he’s a strict vegan and he doesn’t even drink fesh. “Doesn’t eat meat?” “Now, now Mrs. Jenkins, we don’t want them to think we’re not sophisticated. Americans do things differently over there…” [from Gosford Park] ok, now my dilemma is I love Goth boy and I also love Frenchie. ohmygoth what do I do?

i’m toying with the idea of a podcast but am afraid i have nothing to say! many many moons ago, i used to have a show on cable radio called “new music mondays” featuring new bands and stuff…amazing how that show title’s everywhere these days and now iTunes has New Music Tuesdays!!! so for now, i’ll put this nifty audio player icon thingieand add on some tunes later!…my new fave is french yé-yé music from Miou Miou and they’re Czech!