All Dolled Up and No Place to Go...Yet.

Since I had my startling epiphany of how incredibly lackluster my life is right now, I have been on a mission to find out what the fuck my problem is. Unfortuately, the urge to go on this mission only seems to come on when I'm at work, which is frustrating...beacause I have no more privacy than a goldfish, OR when I'm totally tanked - which is as much a crapshoot as a drunk man's ability to perform in bed; either I'm completely inspired, or I'm unable to do anything except watch internet porn, Will & Grace, and Law & Order SVU while drooling on myself.
Recently, my dear friend and big sis Sangrante suggested a certain plan concerning my website,Billychic.com, which has been unfinished and neglected like an abused step-child. I don't want to spill the beans just yet, but suddenly the fog lifted a bit. This new venture will be a combination of several things that I have been wanting to do but have been spending more time figuring out than actually trying, like getting back into disc-jockeying; getting back into entertainment; creating something that people will really dig within a digital/cyber medium.

In short, I'm really fucking excited.

You know you're tired of your Gig when...

...you walk by another profession, one of those "I used to do that but I was too insecure so I left it" jobs - like working on a movie set, for example, and you start to really question WHAT THE FUCK AM I DOING AT MY CURRENT JOB?

I love my job, the people, the fact that I work with books, the free shit, the discounts - but it's boring as hell now. The glam wore off quick (Oh wow! my first corporate gig! What? I have my own desk? Free coffee?) and is now replaced by a desire to set fire to all the books in the building, corrupt the system with a virus, steal all the office supplies, write some mildly offensive graffitti in the women's bathroom stall and leave.

I came upon this startling epiphany on the way to work this morning, yet another morning when I couldn't get out of bed because the idea of coming in to work was so fucking dreadful (uh, do you think that was a fucking clue?). As I walked down the street towards Fifth Avenue, I had to walk through a movie crew who was setting up an indoor shot...all the grips were outside, either carrying equipment or shooting the shit. All of the sudden I had a huge pang in my chest, and tears sprang to my eyes - I used to work in television production for FIVE FUCKING YEARS, WORKED ON MOVIE SETS, sat in on countless films being shot when my mother would take me on location as a youngster and a teenager...

It's in my blood. Being around all of that. And I walked away years ago because I was scared, scared of what I might be able to do, scared of the folks who are mean in the business, just too insecure to stay in for the long haul. So I got something easy - peddling books. Hey, it beats being a door-to-door condom salesman in the bible belt - but that still doesn't make me feel better. I could also be a fluffer for circus midgets...

But I digress.

I think maybe this was telling me something...that I need to start asking more from myself...and from the way I make my living.

Mark Lisanti wrote me back!

Say what you will: defamer.com is one of the best damn websites on the net, bar none. Its sister sites gawker, wonkette, and gizmodo also rock the socks off this world we call the internet...
From hilarious write ups about getting Banged by the Bull , to glorious swipes at Hilary "Million Dollar Trailer Park" Swank , even to go so deliciously far as to describe her Oscar Award acceptance speech as "...go(ing) down as one of the worst speeches in the history of spoken language. Can they get that statue back and hand it to the Botox-paralyzed Annette Bening, who won’t know she’s lost until the middle of the Vanity Fair party?"

I laughed so hard I almost threw up.

That was taken from when Defamer.com Liveblogged the Oscars - one of the funniest things I've ever read in my life, only second to when Defamer tried to take a second look at what was apparently an extremely drunk Dustin Hoffman "waddling" out with Streisand, attempting to get through the presentation of the Best Picture award.

Again, I laughed so hard, I almost threw up.

So, this is all simply a plug for defamer, really, a shamless plug, which has been a long time coming, because I've been telling all my friends about it...and today, I got a reply, albeit brief ("Thanks for reading!") from Mr. Lisanti himself...which I thought was super cool. He has a brilliant, shamelessly sarcastic wit, and is a terrific writer.

Omigod, like, this is even cooler than Britney Spears having to, like, I dunno, figure out that she has to get the poolboy to walk the dog!

Chico and Spud

Chico and Spud
Originally uploaded by Billychic.

One thing that I always look forward to is getting home to the critters. They make rough days worth getting through...

Re: Blogblast from the Past: Control

Once again, men never cease to amaze me. One of my compadres was so precious...he was concerned that he was the cause of some of the angst in this blog that I wrote in January...
1) I'm so thrilled that people are reading this besides myself and the circus clowns that I have hired to constantly hit the refresh button;
2) I'm so touched (uh, a little to the left) that someone was concerned enough to write me about it...

Often I write about how men are the spawn of satan and the bane of my existence, etc etc, blah blah...well, not ever really that bad, but...truth be told, some of the best friends I have and have ever had were men, and were it not for them I would've gone nuts a long time ago. Well...I am nuts. I mean bad nuts, like the chopped almonds on a sundae in one of those restaurants that have 45 health food violations kind of nuts.

Sex is like air...it's not important unless you aren't getting any

I saw this quote while galavanting around the internet today...sadly, the only thing that I can think to say is how appropriate this is...

In other news, other than my sex life and lack thereof that is:

Booksellers across the nation are shuddering at the thought of yet another installment in the Harry Potter series... this latest one, however, appears to be lacking in the fantastic...

In a recent MSNBC interview with Britney Spears, fans of the rapidly aging-before-our-eyes-due-to-alcohol-binges teeny bopper (and those of us who really couldn't are less) got a taste of the turmoil and harsh reality of being a superstar newlywed, as Britney was quoted thusly:

"We hit a little bit of reality, hardcore, after the first three weeks. But we handled it fine, and now things are starting to go really smooth," Spears told the magazine. "Before we got married we were on tour, and we were just like kids, ordering room service, saying, 'Let's go out tonight. Then, all of a sudden, you have this home, you have the kids [Federline's children Kaleb and Kori], you have to get the diapers, get the dog to the vet. It's this reality. Like omigod, I have to tell the maid to buy diapers and get the pool boy to walk the dog? Can't I just make out with Kevin all the time? Being married sucks." (more...)

Like, omigod, she forgot to mention the gallon of Vodka-per-day habit, as well...

Please, Britney, no one really cares. With Paris Hilton playing Genie during a guest spot on that new cheesy tv series "American Dreams," (uh, hello? are there any black people on there? it seems that the producers forgot they also existed in the 60's, except for as a sidebar story), everyone wants to find out if they'll be able to see bush under her Genie pants. You can bet if someone has a video cam they will...

ann1

ann1
Originally uploaded by Billychic.

My mother's beauty never ceases to amaze me...I recently discovered a bunch of pictures and newspaper/magazine clippings of her on Ebay, and I've been collecting whatever I can...it's strange, in a way, to see pictures of your mother that you've never seen before...and for me, to realize that my Mom was a bigger star than I ever really realized...

I've Got to Get Laid!

There, I said it.
It's really not a shock to any of my friends; it's been a long time since I've seen the promised land (well, not THAT long, but comparatively speaking). I thought I was going to get some the other night from the guy I met at ____'s wedding; but at the last minute I froze and he also seemed to be on that "let's both pretend that you're lily white and have never seen a penis" bit, so I didn't score. Which wasn't really the point, I'm just being an asshole about it...he's a sexy guy and I've had a crush on him for a while (jah, love them older men, always have), and simply spending a little time playing in the sandbox is always a whole lotta fun...However, I really don't think he's relationship material...which leads to the question of "is that what I really want/am ready for again?"...which is a whole other blog.

It's bad enough that I've got the hots for my new female Spanish teacher, and that I've been drooling all over myself like a fucking idiot about a few individuals...mainly a pal that I've been talking to for about 8 months, met twice, and who is an awesome, sexy man...who is rapidly becoming more than a pal...but the fucker is moving across the country in June.
I considered not even really spending the time getting to know him any more than a friend, but that isn't an option anymore.

Oh well...