Wednesday, February 21, 2007




LIKE A PHOENIX RISING FROM THE ASHES....

Viva returns, if only to say thank you for continually checking the site to see if I am alive or dead. I check my little site counter and am amazed to see that you people still come here. That's love, folks. And Viva loves to feel the love. I am truly grateful.

I am very much alive and, if not kicking, then digging myself out from under 2 feet of snow and enough personal drama to make a grown woman reach for Xanax with a tequila chaser. He he.... Sure, Viva loves her angst, but there comes a point where my inner Joan of Arc is even like "I am sick of this shit!" And Joanie, God love her, had way more to complain about, being burned at the stake and all, but I sort of feel her "roasted like a pig on a spit" pain, if only psychologically--but considering Joan had to contend with the real deal, we'll let her be the martyr here. Oh heck, let me martyr my bad self out, just for a moment of shits and giggles. Recently, Viva here has muddled through a crapload of crappity-crappy things like death, legal wranglings, family drama, more family drama, a side of family drama, massive disappointment, and unwarranted judgment from repressed people who need a vibrator even more than she does (and that is saying something). My life, it seems, was like a bad Linda Rondstadt song.

But that which does not kill you makes you a tough old broad, and Viva prefers "better" to "bitter" these days, so rather than dwell on the bad, or even the "common" (my new favorite term to describe those who vex me), I'd rather leap headfirst back into the fabulous and celebrate all that which makes me joyous these days, such as (in no particular order):

My fabulous, wonderful, supportive friends who are my true family, sing "Jump" by Madonna to me for inspiration, and love and encourage me to be more of who I am, not what I am allegedly supposed to be (fuck that "supposed to be" stuff, anyway)--I don't know what I did to deserve such a great gang, but I'm so glad we all worked so hard to have our get-togethers and stay close all these years. You should all be submitting therapy bills. I'd be lost without you;

Madonna herself for providing Viva with her new life mantra''"WWMD?--WHAT WOULD MADONNA DO?" I am telling you, repeating this to yourself when confronted with a difficult situation can really change a girl's life. Bless you Madge, and your leotards, which you make look hot even when you are pushing 50.

My dog Cooper, my little man, who makes me laugh with every silly thing he does, and reminds me how precious unconditional love really is. And coats every surface with thousands of little blond hairs. But I don't care because he's the best, most loyal and loving man out there. I want to be just like him when I grow up (well, in female, human form).

My Mom and Dad--although both are no longer in this physical plane and are "pushing up the daisies" as my old man would say, I still feel them hanging around and rooting for me in spite of all my dysfunction. I thank dad for my warped sense of humor, general good nature, and for giving me the most kick ass male role model ever--he and my mom had a real partnership, filled with mutual respect. There will never be another like my old man. And my gorgeous mother--a theatrical hairstylist, ardent student of Jungian psychology, and master astrologer (what other mother would pull out the I Ching when I had a question about a boy I liked?). She made me quirky, independent, and filled me with Madonna-like catch phrases in between running a house, volunteering at my grammar school and getting nominated for EMMYs. Some gems of Mom's include:

"Be an innovator, not an imitator,"

"In order to succeed, you must desire, and that desire must shorten your sleep,"

"Be a lady and mind yourself (okay I suck at this one),

and Viva's personal favorite: "I am not teaching you how to clean or cook, because I do not want you to be a slave to a man; I want you to be a princess and remember, don't get married until you are at least 40."

God I miss ya, mom! I can't bake for shit, and at best I am an domestically indifferent, but goddamn if all your advice over the years wasn't spot-on. I am thrilled to be your progeny and carry on your good lucks (albeit with thin lips, but that is why God made Restylane) and delightfully different outlook on life. While other mothers sat at soccer games, mine brought me onto movie sets (of course, under the threat of death if I were to act up, which I never did because, dude, I was on a movie yet--yippee!); when Mom was on location for months at a time, Dad took the reins at home, and instilled in me a love of Hormel Chili, Dinty Moore stew, and Stephen King movies .... so many great memories. You fun dead people totally rock, and I love you dearly. Thanks for the DNA.

Scranton, PA: I see glimpses of Scranton during the beginning of "The Office" and still get misty. This is where the madness, the pyramids, the murder-scene bathrooms, all began. It is also the home of Zorba cheese fries, without which, I'd be 20 pounds lighter. Scranton will always be our touchstone. Long may the Electric City reign.

My House: I love my house; it's comfy, cozy, and filled with all the furniture I inherited from the folks, along with every thrift store treasure I could dig up on the East Coast. It keeps me warm and grounded, safe and secure, gives Cooper a place to run around and, as of late, has been the site of wonderful dinner parties with my closest and dearest--why spend money and go out when you can stay in and be comfy? Viva loves having the family over, even if its for pizza, wine, and Sex in the City! I even learned how to use a snowthrower and make a real fire in the fireplace. Next up, the lawnmover, maybe I will chop my OWN firewood. Okay, that's taking it too far. But YAY!!!

Britney Spears: Because hey, as horrible and miserable as my life might get, I will never be so screwed up as to shave my fucking head. I mean, come on now. She's bringing CrazyBack and not in a good way. I mean, divorce happens Brit, and it sucks but you're a mega-millionaire and 24--AND you popped out two kids. Pull it together already and put on some underwear. She makes me look sane and well-reasoned by comparison. God bless the Britster.



Me: Yes me. Oh why the hell not? Crappy times can really test a person and show them what they are made of; sometimes you can't control the crap or how or why crap happens, but you CAN control how you react to the crap, how you grow from the crap, and how this crap makes you realize that you are a pretty cool person in spite of, well, the crap. And you realize how piles of said crap can give you choices--the high road or the low road or even, the road everyone takes or the road less traveled.... Thus far, I have taken the high road in my recent angstfest, and am happy about that--there can be respect and trust even amidst the crap. And for the future, Viva is gearing up for the road less traveled because, well, she lives for that shit. Why be normal when you can be freakishly wacky and fun? So, check in for more celebrity updates and commentaries, the triumphant return of "People Who Annoy the Living Crap Out of Me," "[Insert Celebrity Name Here] or My Vibrator?," various stories about the inane situations I often find myself in, and, why I am going to buy the new "Hair Do" hair extension system in spite of my rampant hatred of Jessica Simpson (and her little queen, Ken Paves, although I am jealous because she has him and I don't). I know, I am crossing to the Dark Side and cannot be stopped. This is, like, sacrilege. But honestly, the hair totally makes a normal woman look like a wanton she-devil. All for $90, but there's supposed a place out on Long Island where you can get the extensions for half price. LOVES IT!!!!

In the meantime, though, some culture for you folks, because this is a heartfelt post, in spite of all the "fuck"s and "shit"s and vibrator mentions:


The Road Not Taken, by Robert Frost

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveller, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

Friday, January 05, 2007

"SAY GOODNIGHT, GRACIE..."

Sometime, in every woman's life, there comes a period wherein life is so spectacularly unfunny that it is hard to blog about celebrity crotches, beloved vibrators, and thigh-high boots. For me, that time has come--in spades.

Your pal Viva is having a rough time of it, and churning out the sarcasm isn't as easy as it used to be. In short, I need a break. I'm not sure when I'll be back, but my own narcissistic penchant for attention shouldn't keep me away too long.

In the meantime, be good to yourselves.

Peace.

Tuesday, January 02, 2007

HOLIDAY JOY IN ROCHESTER




Viva has returned from her holiday sojourn in Rochester, and is quite honestly, tired as all hell, as is her trusty companion Cooper, who is still bleary-eyed from his doggie-downer pills and contentedly lapping at a new meaty bone I finally got around to giving him. Considering the angst that is my life, I decided I owed myself a little bleary time too, and what better avenue to Blearyville than wine and Xanax? Admit it, people you're jealous! I've never been one for the psychotropics, but if you're having a true Calgon moment, and don't have the Calgon, Xanax is a pretty nice alternative (I swiped mine from a dear friend with a stash--shhh!)--except for the bumping into walls and all. I feel so "Desperate Housewives!" But I digress....

To all the people who missed me and bitched about the lack of posts, thanks for the pestering e-mails. I live for love, ya know? I'm actually still swamped with work, thank God, but will try to throw up a few posts imminently for your amusement. Expect an update on the Holiday Extravaganza, including "Viva Gets a Bikini Wax From a Pre-Teen With Poor Eyesight and Other Tales of Vaginal Angst," "Everything I Need to Know About Dating, I Learned From My Dog (Or Why I Would Make a Crappy Slutty Person)," "If You Fill Them, They Will Come (The Damsel In Distress Story)," "The Best New Appetizer Ever (well, two of them, and you get both recipes, so be excited)," and "How A Pair of Black Thigh-High Boots Saved Christmas (well, actually, New Years, but Christmas sounded better). And there'll be some celebrity posting too--what did I miss? Britney Spears passing out at a New Year's Party? Shocking! Yawn. Next!


Once I stop seeing double and obsessing over crap I have no business obsessing over, I'll get back to business as usual. In the meantime, the dog and I are going to stagger up to bed and try to find a rerun of the Golden Girls..... I need a little wisdom from Dorothy Spornak, God love her....



Thursday, December 21, 2006

Christmas with the Lohans

Normally I never blog about Paris, Lindsay, Nicole et al. because, well, they're morons and I hate them.

But this Christmas story, courtesy of Perez Hilton, warms the cockles of my heart.

What's a cockle anyway?

Enjoy!

Wednesday, December 13, 2006

"HOLY CRAP!!!!"--RIP PETER BOYLE: 1935-2006






















I just read that one of my favorite actors of all time, Peter Boyle, has passed away at the age of 71. Your friend Viva here is a sentimental mess about stuff like this, and had herself a good cry over his loss. Young Frankenstein is one of my favorite movies ever (I do a poor imitation of his and Gene Wilder's performance of "Putting on the Ritz" which has to be one of the greatest scenes of all time), and I've seen every episode of Everybody Loves Raymond at least three times over... Peter, as Frank Barone, reminded me a lot of my old man: cranky, irascible, and loveable--and always there for his family. Maybe that's why the waterworks came when I read about his passing? Regardless, he'll certainly be missed in Hollywood--there's not many like him, nowadays.

He is survived by his wife and two daughters.


Sniffle.

Wednesday, December 06, 2006

BECAUSE I LOVE YOU AND WANT YOU TO BE DRUNK AND HAPPY






I am besieged with work (which I should enjoy while I have it), so posts have been short. But, I promised you a hot mulled wine recipe and reasons why I love Clerks and Clerks II, and you shall have both (in abridged format).

First, the wine:

Magically Delicious Hot Mulled Wine (courtesy of Mary Tee, friend of Viva)

You will need:

1 bottle Burgundy wine (not the huge bottles, the normal sized ones--you can go super-cheap on the wine too, since you are mulling it anyway--my choice was a bottle of Gallo--$4.99! Whoo hoo!)
1 bottle of White Zinfandel (you remember the wine of your youth, right? I drank more of this crap than I care to remember, and am surprised there is still a market for it, but there is. I went with a bottle of Sutter Home White Zin, which was on sale for $5.99)
Mulling spices--you can buy these right now at your local supermarkets (since it is the holidays and all) so go and STOCK UP big time. I bought a generic bag of mulling spices for $1.99)
1 cup brown sugar
1 package of cheesecloth
1 crock pot

1. Come home, turn on crockpot to low or high (depending on how much time you have). Open bottles of wine; pour into crockpot--let wine warm up a bit before adding brown sugar and mulling spices, which should be wrapped in cheesecloth (my mulling spices instructed me to put in 3 tablespoons of mulling spices for two bottles of wine, so I did).

2. Wait impatiently while everything, uh, mulls. I had my crockpot set to high, because I have no patience and in 2-3 hours, the wine was ready and AWESOME if I do say so myself. Wait as long as you can, but if you dive in early, don't hate yourself. It happens.

3. Add a cinnamon stick if you want it to look pretty (I didn't)

4. Rent cheesy funny movies and laugh indiscriminantly.

The best part about mulled wine is that if you don't drink all of it in one night, you can reheat it the next day, with the same mulling spices. More bang for your buck! It also makes a festive (and cheap) holiday party drink, and it will get you where you want (or, in my case, need) to go. YAY MULLED WINE!

Now, for Clerks and Clerks II

I am beginning to think that, although I am very much a woman, when it comes to movies, I have penis-like tastes in humor. Ferrell, Sandler, Stiller, Wilson, Vaughn, Favreau, Smith, Cohen? Love them all. Love all their sidekicks too. I have no idea why. I know I should be much more enthralled by movies like "The Notebook" or "The Bridges of Madison County," but since my life plays out more along the lines of Ron Burgundy than Francesca Johnson (at least I hope it does), I'd rather stay sexy, than chase around Clint Eastwood in a pick up truck. Have you seen that man's varicose veins? But I digress.

Anyhow, why I love Kevin Smith movies. Because they are so gross, but loveable. Just like Jay and Silent Bob. Disgusting, but strangely cool. I actually have a hard time picking my favorite Kevin Smith movie--Chasing Amy was good, but I have a special place in my heart for Dogma and Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back--am I the only female who thinks that "Boo Boo Kitty Fuck" is a genuine term of affection? Might be. I loved Clerks II for three reasons: Donkey Show, Pillow Pants, A** to Mouth. All completely offensive, but yet will make you cackle like a hyena. Also Trevor Fehrman, the guy who plays Elias, killed me, with his whole "God made man, Man made Transformers" speech. I loved him. Also not to be missed, Jay's and Silent Bob's reenactment of "Silence of the Lambs." It honestly does not get any better. Especially with hot mulled wine!

So make some wine, rent some flicks, and have yourself a merry little Gross Out Fest. Consider it my Christmas present to you.

Tuesday, December 05, 2006

COMING UP LATER......





A great recipe for Hot Mulled Wine, which is flipping AWESOME (Viva friend Mary Tee gave me the recipe, and all you hot folks get it next), and why I love Clerks and Clerks II.

In fact, I suggest combining both Hot Mulled Wine and a Clerks marathon for a truly ridiculous evening. Even PillowPants would approve.

More later; for now, work (bastards).