RIP Blue Jacket

Saturday 27 Mar 10

There have been some developments in the Facebook fiasco. Finally my impostor has been removed, and now there is a page that is really me, asking everyone to come to this official website.  I feel rather ambivalent about the whole affair: the person who was pretending to be me wasn't being mean, he or she just took the posts from this blog and made out that I had put them on Facebook.  However, he or she was misleading people into thinking it was actually me they were friending (don't you just hate that friend has become a verb?) and then people were leaving messages for me and sometimes, rather menacingly in my opinion, coming up to me in public places and telling me we were friends. I think the fact that nowadays it is perfectly acceptable to go up to a stranger somewhere and announce that you are friends with them and have been for some time is just awful, but more so, surely, when you're not on Facebook and have no desire to be, and, also, already have enough real friends.

So anyway, there we go.  I don't like people pretending to be who they aren't, in any circumstance.

I am having a lovely day.  I have decided to eat a lot of soup this weekend.  Sometimes your body just tells you what to do, doesn't it?  Anyway, mine craves soup, and luckily I have a freezer full of very spicy veg soup that I made.  I like nothing better than making soup, and especially when I have a load of random things in the fridge that need to be used up. You could say that making soup is almost a sickness for me.

It's funny.  At, my obsession website, thus far you're only allowed to join five obsession groups (or sicknesses) at once.  I have actually six right now because I have connections!  But I realise that making soup could easily be another.  I guess that our sicknesses and obsessions vary from time to time.  I actually really hope that is true.  Today, I am feeling less sick about Caledonian Macbrayne Ferries of Lena Zavaroni than I am about soup.  The good thing though is that I have created those groups and even I leave them and join others they will carry on without me, and I can join back again at another time when, and if, my obsession pendulum swings back.

And so, is a bit of metaphor for life!  We can have obsessive feelings for things or people and just as quickly, when our circumstances or moods change, we can find ourselves not obsessed any more, and even surprised that we felt so strongly at all. 

The reason I have these pictures from Monday night's gala at the Geffen in Los Angeles up today is because I am mourning the loss of my jacket. After the gala I ended up at a really fun bar downtown which had a night called Moustache Mondays! It was a hoot, but alas I took off my jacket and left it on a seat and went off to play. When we were leaving I couldn't find the jacket.  This blue suit is quite special for me because it was actually the first ever suit I was given in America by a designer to wear for press purposes.  And I really loved it as it was made of a type of synthetic material that made it possible to be rumpled up in a case one second and looking hot to trot the next.  And it was blue and the trousers were drainpipey and I loved it.  However, I have to say that sometimes we lose things for a reason. I often lose clothes in bars and clubs.  I either forget where I put them or someone has taken them by accident or else they've been nicked. And whenever that happens, I think of all the wonderfully happy times I have spent in bars and clubs and treat the loss as a sacrifice to the Party Gods.  So blue Hugo Boss jacket, wherever you may be, I hope you are continuing to bring joy. Also, I have to say that I hadn't worn the suit for years and when I wore it on Monday I felt that the jacket was not working quite as well as the pants, and either it had stretched or I am a little slighter than I was 13 years ago, but I just felt it wasn't as fabulous as I remember!!  And so it was apparent that I did not need it and the universe took it from me! Perfect!

Finally, two things referring back to previous posts this week: I look at the picture of me sitting in the row on Monday and realise that with my wide leg stance it was a miracle Clint eastwod wasn't pushed off the stage let alone rubbed knees with me; and secondly I found out what the beautiful, quadruple-onion shaped building in Greenpoint is that I can see from my Good Wife dressing room: it's a sewage treatment plant, naturally.