It’s like this show–Big in 2003 on VH-1–was made for me. Well, except for some of the kids today who I just do NOT know [*shaking my head* When DID I get so old?] it was really great. Got to see some of my old faves from casting Mr. Personality and Paradise Hotel (which Kathy Griffin called the seventh sign of the apocalypse), which is fun. And the Michael Jackson jokes were especially juicy. One question: who the eff are the Hilton Sisters and who the eff gives a crap?
Keith’s sick in bed. Since he’s a good four days behind me in the full-swing of this thing (I think), he should stay there for at least four more days. Today was my first day out of bed more hours than in, and that’s only b/c I didn’t want to disturb Keith by being restless in the bed while he’s sleeping. Poor kid. Theraflu has knocked him out, but he’s not big into drugs, so he’s fighting it.
I can hear the helicopters and such from the Hollywood Christmas Parade going on down the street. Ah… I recall ten years ago when I lived here (well, four blocks from here, but near enough) and worked for Joey Lawrence who was in the parade that year. Totally different experience than sitting here in my PJs, watching TV, finishing Christmas cards, and dragging a string along the floor for the kitties. Ah… so good to be 33.
Tomorrow I will be healthy. Dammit!