Kay Hanley

I know there are upwards of 7 of you who care about what I have to say on the subject, but please believe that what is happening on Wall Street & Washington DC right now has got me on the verge of meltdown.  There is a post on the way.  

For the moment, let this film clip from Pulp Fiction act as a proxy for me (Samuel L. Jackson),  George W. Bush (the big kahuna burger kid),  Henry Paulson (Flock of Seagulls kid) and featuring the American people as Marcellus Wallace. 

mr. bush, do we look like a bitch?

Everyone is up my ass about “Where are the birthday party pictures?” and “Did you put in an order for that walker yet?  Har har.” and “Why can’t you just post the party pictures on your blog already?  Is it because you are suffering from macular degeneration and dementia because you’re like, really old?”

Look, I’ve been busy, ok? Also, I didn’t FEEL like it and we all know how I don’t like doing things that I don’t want to do.  

michelle lights the candles.  so many candles.  look at her laughing.

my friends understand me 

 usa proposes a toast as i gesticulate

stacy, bill’s arms, scotty. 

gary & janet

me and jess get ready for the party at chez rocker 

 justine & alexandra

kristen, kaylyn & gary 

mario & me. 

nina & dave 

jamie, sara & paul 

me & kristen 

 jaco & vashon are badasses

 linda, me and joey

 kaylyn, fannius & shea.

 mish & pinky

 It was an amazing party, needless to say.  There were so many people in that room that I genuinely love, it was a bit overwhelming.  Thank you, sexy people.  You made me the happiest girl in the whole wide world.

xok 

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My favorite Tennessee rock star, Atom from Mondo Primo (formerly feable weiner) has some kind of side project called Wicked Celtics.  I think the band might be comprised of Atom, his hair and a powerful fan but I haven’t bothered to ask the project is shrouded in mystery so I guess we’ll never know.  

Here is Wicked Celtics’ groundbreaking contribution to the video canon.  Oh, how I love this.

As the summer draws to a close I would simply like to say that it’s about time.  We have officially run out of things to do with Zoe & Henry.  I am exhausted and possibly in need of a liver transplant from the endless bbqs and pool parties.  I am leaping for joy that school starts on Wednesday so I can resume my more regimented and only somewhat excessive life.   

I would be remiss if I did not mention, however, that we have had such a blast this year and I can’t help but reflect on my charmed fate since relocating to Los Angeles. One of the biggest reasons for this is due to the friendships that I have developed since I’ve been here.  Over the last 5 years I have made the best girlfriends that I’ve ever had and I am regularly awed by what they bring to my life, both in silliness and seriousness.  It’s like being in high school all over again but without the torment and and crushing insecurity.  It’s like Bizarro World high school!

Carol decided to hold Isabel and Kate’s birthday party in a limo the other day, because that’s how we do.  We all screamed along to the new Jonas Brothers and Miley CDs and popped into Robano’s in Toluca Lake for an awesome pizza party.   What could be more funner than spending the afternoon with my MILFAS and their girlies?

world’s greatest moms 

happy birthday kj & miz iz! 

 One morning last week, I groggily poured myself a cup of coffee and sat down in front of my computer to begin my day as I always do with a cruise around Huffington Post.  One of the top headlines was something about “Fourth American Idol Judge. Meet Kara!” along with a picture of my good friend Kara DioGuardi.  Ummm…WHAT???!!

I have already created a position for myself as Kara’s Personal Assistant In Matters Only Relating To American Idol (KPAIMORTAI) and I am hopeful that I will be able to begin my new job as soon as I can force Kara to understand how necessary such a position is in her new career.  I mean, who’s gonna announce her a arrival to the set each day by tossing rose petals under her feet and conducting the horns?  That helicopter is not gonna fly itself, either.  And whom, if not I, is going to instruct the riff raff to not address unless addressed nor make direct eye contact with America’s new household name?  There is only one person to meet these challenges and that person is me.

Kara’s sexy man, Mike threw her an impromptu party last night to celebrate her return from the first round of auditions.  Again, more of my favorite girly-os were on hand to toast Ms. Thing.

 me, mish, kara, janet

 We’re heading over to Brian & Cindy Malouf’s house for the final BBQ of the summer and a fitting start to the new school year.

xok 

It appears that many of us find Barack Obama just delightful!  In fact,  earlier this evening Conroy & I poured ourselves the finest California Chard that Long’s Drug had to offer, gathered around the old teedle vee and just enjoyed the heck out of everything Presid..oops! Senator Obama had to say as he gave his parting oration at the Democratic National Convention.   If I didn’t know any better, I would have thought that I was watching God himself, but we liberal elitists know that such occult beliefs are absurd distractions, meant to soothe and sedate a lesser form of humanity than ours.  But just for fun, let’s characterize his appearance as God-esque!  He was simply marvelous.  That is all I am trying to express.

That Mr. Obama really knows how to get the audience going and gosh darn it, we would really like to see a man of such bold charisma and clear intellectual superiority be the President.  He reminds me of the commanding Chalupa Gordito, conductor of the Machu Picchu Philharmonic (where we had the most amusing holiday a few years back on the advice of our dear friends, Howard Zinn and Al Franken) or some rockstar - like The Bono!  

Our only hope is that those inconsiderate Republicans don’t come after Mr. Obama and besmirch his upstanding character, because that would be terribly disappointing to us and could also ruin his chances to do something really terrific with our fine country, The United States Of America!  

 pass the fucking grey poupon, mr. cheney.  now.

* photo credit: zoe mabel

xok 

USA Mike and I are about to be the proud owners of this gorgeous painting by the Japanese artist Sush Machida Gaikotsu.  Naomi is going to put me in the poor house if she doesn’t stop bringing these paintings into my house.  After they are here, I can’t live without them. 

 It’s positively dreamy.  

-xok 

For those of you who only know me as a person who got to embrace ALL of the Jonas Bothers at the Teen Choice Awards a few weeks back (hello boys. *wink*) you will be even more impressed that I perform at a Red Sox charity event twice a year called Hot Stove Cool Music.  Maybe “impressed” is a strong word.  Disinterested?  Apathetic? Whatever.  Just look at the pretty pictures and pretend to care about my silly comings and goings.    

I didn’t perform my own set at this one but I got to go back home to Boston for the event and help out with press and stuff.  The lovely Jen and I sat in with Peter Gammons’ band on back up vocals and then we all drank beers on a deck overlooking the Boston Harbor.  

 It’s funny, nobody ever used to drink beers out on the Harbor.  At least not sitting in a chair at a table with a pretty waitress pouring them into a nice glass.  For most of my life in Boston, the Harbor inspired more of a Schlitz tall boy out of a paper bag and peeing under a bridge kind of a vibe.  Times, they are a changin’.  I don’t like it. 

Here’s what I did last weekend in Boston.  I forgot my camera, so your guest photographer for today’s post is the lovely Mark Quigley, who got to waste enjoy his birthday chaperoning my disorganized ass around town.  The good news was that we got to sit in Theo’s suite to watch the Sox game!  AHHHH!!!!! 

 nesn pre-game show with tom caron.  talking is my hobby.

interview with my pal joe castiglione,

top ‘o the 2nd

 me and jennifer slumming it in theo’s suite. dot rats 4 life.

 caldes & ed v. are badasses

the star trek sign was unintentional, yet apropos.

gammons, joe & me.

 townies are better than the rest of you

xok

Once upon a time, I was a young, naive traveler.  With little or no loyalty, I would whore out my travel dollars to the lowest bidder or fly on the chosen airline of whomever was flying me to and fro.  I didn’t care what name was slapped on the plane’s fuselage.  All I wanted was a bloody mary and safe passage.

All that changed with the advent of Jet Blue.  At first I was seduced by the clean, modern look of their advertising and insanely well priced flights. 

The seduction turned into a true love affair when I actually flew on my first Jet Blue flight.  New jets, friendly staff, great website and super efficient electronic check in.  And the televisions.  I admit now that my lust was (perhaps) taken to an irrationally euphoric place because of the TV situation.

So, how did we go so wrong?  I realize now that, although I thought that I was dealing with a lover who loved me back, I was deluding myself.  Jet Blue never loved me.  Jet Blue is a heroin dealer by way of a greedy, selfish boyfriend.

It started with the prices creeping up slowly, but I didn’t see anything nefarious about that, really. I only began realizing the bleak nature of our relationship over the course of the last 3 months or so.  Things have deteriorated rapidly, to put it mildly, including a flight from Boston to LA that I bought 3 seats on for my Mom and 2 kids.  The flight was the one of the most expensive that I found but I didn’t care. It was worth the price for the TV sets alone, knowing that my Mom would have her hands full and the entertainment would help a LOT.  2 of the 3 TVs in their row were broken.

All of a sudden the Jet Blue website has been retarded.  I have been unable to book a seat assignment, even though I have a frequent flyer account.  The prices of flights have suddenly become non-competitive to say the least.  

As I write this, I am sitting in a middle seat for my SEVENTH FLIGHT IN A ROW.   Admittedly, these recent flights have been booked within 2 weeks of my departures, but why is it that I can no longer even look at a seating chart to find out where I’m sitting?  Is it possible that %100 of Jet Blue flyers are so savvy that every single seat is accounted for more than 2 weeks before the flight?  Even if this were so, I would then have to accept that I bought the very last ticket available.

As I wrap up my rant, I would simply like to mention that my TV is broken, as is that of the passenger next to me.  Fuck you, Jet Blue.