By the way, I am going to Bethesda tomorrow to hang out with the fam for Easter Weekend, so you probably won't hear much from me the next few days. My 88-year-old grandma is there, having gotten on a plane for the first time in at least a decade. It's always good to see her when I get a chance. Abby is in Costa Rica, or somewhere, so unfortunately we're missing one of the brood. When you have four cousins between the ages of twelve and twenty, it's rare that they are all in the house at the same time, so I'm glad for whoever I happen to catch.

Listen up, folks. If anyone out there decides they want to make my day, you might take a page from a dear friend of mine, who included this in today's e-mail:

So, for the record, you are a smart, sexy, bent, incredibly creative woman that any person would be lucky to know/employ/have sex with.

(though if you're related to me I might suggest that you leave out the sexy bits)

Add to that lovely sentiment a sunny, breezy, spring day in my beloved Brooklyn, and I was glowing all the way to yoga class. En route, a guy who looked remarkably like Snoop Doggy Dogg called me beautiful. Awww, shucks! I was in such a mood that once I got to yoga class and found out that yoga class had, in fact, been cancelled for Passover/Easter I didn't even mind.

So why, exactly, am I telling you this? I dunno. Why are you reading this?

By the way, you're beautiful!

Can I tell you how much I love the movie Moonstruck? I had never seen it before, and I rented it from Netflix. Netflix, because the handful of video stores in my neighborhood have bubkus for movies in any format, much less DVDs. Anyway, so I rented Moonstruck because I'd never seen it and it's set in Brooklyn, and why not? I love it! I've watched it like five times in the last two days. And I want to go find all of the locations, and go to the opera, and eat a lot of Italian food.

Oh Geez, don't they say celebrities always die in threes?

Loud Bob has actually been kind of quiet lately, but just now, blaring from the other side of the thin wall:

"Can a nigga get a table dance?!"

Good old Bob.

Best wishes for a happy Passover.

Yow, a doubly sad day for comedy:

RIP Milton Berle
RIP Dudley Moore

Please, someone buy this for me?

Hey cool...Barely Legal is back up. I was just poking around on Mike's new site design, and found that this little mini-film (by the lovely and talented John Tynes) in which I make an appearance has returned after having been dropped from the site briefly. Just click on the link above, then "Video," then scroll down to "Barely Legal." You'll need Quicktime to watch me try to explain how working at Amazon.com was like performing a sexual act on a disinterested partner. Pardon my bad hair.

The interesting thing about this little movie is how few people participated in it. It was filmed only a couple weeks after the layoffs were announced. Since our fairly impressive severance package would be awarded only if we completed the four months of work leading to the "termination date" (how Logan's Run), many of us were paranoid that Amazon would find some trumped-up reason to fire us prematurely so they could pocket the severance. As a result people were more afraid than ever to publicly dis the company. When Mike put out the call for laid-off workers to share their experiences, very few people were willing to speak on the record. I, always the media whore, stepped right up. But lest you think I was more brave than my peers, I remember making it very clear to Mike and John that I would steer clear of saying anything overtly nasty, or violate my Non-Disclosure Agreement (which, I believe, expires in October 2002). As such, the most interesting thing they got out of me is the dream which made it to the final film. I'm ready for my close-up, Mr. DeMille...

I went to see Monster’s Ball last night. Since I didn’t manage to see all of the major Oscar ^TM nominees before the awards, I might as well try to see at least the winners afterwards. The good thing is that this means I won’t have to see I Am Sam.

So, after a solid month of obsessing over who would win, who should win, and what they might wear, this holiday season is over. The big story, of course, is Halle Berry’s sort-of surprise win. I hadn’t seen her in much, but based on her performance in X-Men (less “Storm” than “Lukewarm Puddle”) I thought she was overrated. Monster’s Ball, however, is a different story. Her totally involving and fearless presence did nothing less than carry the movie--you couldn’t help but watch her every move onscreen. Her chemistry with Billy Bob Thornton was both electric and disturbing, and arguments that she was too pretty for the role are just plain silly. Truly in all ways it was an Oscar^TM-worthy performance, and good for her for managing to come up with an eloquent speech while losing her freaking mind onstage.

Plus, she had the best dress of the whole night. It was bold and elegant, and that gorgeous shade of ruby-red was divine. Which, by the way, cannot be said for her competitor Nicole Kidman. What happened to Nic’s ultra-glam fashion choices? And that hair? She was so pale and washed-out she threatened to disappear entirely. Not good for a star in her prime. Go put some color on, missy.

Other fashion misfires come mostly down to the “saggy boob” trend. I suggest adopting this simple rule: If they don’t stand up by themselves, wear a damn bra. This means you, Gwyneth Paltrow, Jennifer Connelly, and Kirsten Dunst!

What the hell happened to Jennifer Lopez? I’ll tell you what happened, she got married. I can’t imagine why this should make a difference (except for when Marilyn Monroe wed puritanical tyrant Joe DiMaggio), but ever since J. Lo took her booty off the market she’s been nothing but a fashion don’t. Her dress was just okay, and that Jane Fonda bouffant wasn’t even cool when Jane wore it. I found it actually painful to look at her. [Who would have thought that I could be this bitchy while wearing an overlarge t-shirt and pajama bottoms, eh? Thank God for the Internet.]

Back to the nominees: My guesses weren’t too bad, eh? I guess I should have stayed with my original prediction of Julian Fellowes winning for Gosford Park, but I still managed to eke out 11 out of 15 correct. Okay, maybe that’s only a C... I’ll be the first to admit that making Oscar^TM predictions is silly—unless there is cash involved—but harmless fun.

As far as the broadcast itself, I was really surprised. I found it the most entertaining, funniest Oscar^TM telecast in my memory. I was surprised to find out it was over four hours long, because I didn’t feel that it dragged at all, except for the commercials, of course (that “Bachelor” show is just offensive. When are they going to have a show with 25 nubile, hot young men in bathing suits humiliating themselves to win the affections of an average-looking middle-aged woman? I’d watch that). Okay, the honorary Oscar presentations (along with the Humanitarian award) always go on longer than they should, but what are you going to do? Tell Sidney Poitier to hurry it up? Actually, I’d rather cut down on the introductory speeches (anything to keep the embalmed-looking Ryan O’Neal and Ali McGraw off the stage), but the film tributes—particularly the one for Poitier—were very nice.

I LOVED that they eliminated the tradition of playing the "best song" nominees throughout the show with overlong, cheesy dance numbers. Playing shorter, simple versions all at once was brilliant. The screenwriters’ descriptions of technical categories were a neat new addition, particularly Buck Henry’s description of make-up. I would have preferred to see the writers themselves deliver the lines and not the presenters, however.

Whoopi was a good host. Billy Crystal is still my favorite, but most of her jokes were funny and she did a good job keeping the show moving. Also her outfits were gorgeous—the black dress with differently-colored shawls and jewelry was much classier than throwing her into wildly different ensembles every five minutes.

But as for the very, very best moment of this year’s Oscars^TM, or indeed any year’s? Jello-freaking-Biafra! In case you missed it, that was him screaming “No wire hangers ever!!” in Errol Morris’s what-I-like-about-the-movies film at the beginning of the show. Jello Biafra--and Iggy Pop!--on the Oscars^TM--there’s something beautiful about that!