I called up my Aussie friend Suzanne Tuesday afternoon (Wednesday morning for her). I used two calling cards and we ended up talking for about an hour and twenty minutes. Not bad for our first vocal conversation in five months. I met her this summer on my trip to Europe…she was in my tour group. Back in July, when we said goodbye and parted ways, we barely knew a thing about each other. Since then though, we’ve stayed in touch through AIM and plenty of emails, and now I consider her a close and valued friend.

It’s strange to think that she and I cultivated a friendship almost entirely through written words. For the past five months, Suzanne has been nothing more than a memory of a face and mere lines of text on a monitor. But obviously those lines of text have truly spoken to me, which explains why I was compelled to make an international call to freaking Australia.

The written word is a beautiful thing. If it weren’t for all of our letters and our chronologically misaligned AIM conversations, Suzanne would have been nothing more than a fading memory from last summer. There’s a unique kind of power in the written word. At its best, it offers us all—in this disenchanted world—a glimpse into the beauty and the endless potential that enrich our lives and our very existence. Writing has the ability to build friendships, to educate, to soften the hard of heart, and even to change entire nations. But you know, I’m rambling without much purpose again. Three cheers for the written word. And Suzanne, if you ever read this, here’s to you, you crazy Aussie chick.

Posted by KZ on 10/31/02

Okay, I admit, I love that show She Spies. It’s a series about three beautiful female ex-convicts gone good who now work for a clandestine secret organization trying to rid the world of evildoers. The show’s a farce, and it’s brilliant. It’s everything that VIP wasn’t, and yet the female leads are still really hot. It never tries to take itself too seriously…in fact it makes it a point to poke fun at itself at every turn. The concept of the show is so stupid, and yet the writers infuse it with clever, and sometimes even inspiring humor. And by the way, did I mention the female leads are incredibly hot? Sometimes fluff shows turn out to be the greatest shows.

Posted by KZ on 10/27/02

Sometimes I can be pretty damn charming when I’m not even trying. Today is national self-affirmation day. Yay me.

Posted by KZ on 10/25/02

I don’t believe in Hell, but I’d sure like to believe in a kind of public Purgatory in which all of the deceased assholes of the world are set on display in medieval stocks. On our way to Heaven, all of us decent folk would get the chance to walk by and kick each of those fools in the head. Assuming this were true, and assuming I lived long enough to outlive some of those assholes, I’d start with the Washington DC snipers, then work my way down to Osama, Saddam, and then all of the suicide bombers that I could get to.

But I’m only frustrated. I know better than to allow the indignant anger turn into hate. This whole “loving thy enemy” thing is a residual from my fourteen years of Catholic education. It’s funny how some things always stay with you. If a heathen agnostic like me could learn to love those who have done nothing to warrant being loved, then maybe there’s still hope for this world. Still, it would be kinda cool if God allowed us a free opportunity to bitch slap some of humanity’s more terrible menaces.

Posted by KZ on 10/23/02

Why do females feel the need to play so many games? I wish I were the type that could just turn away, say “screw it,” and mean it. But I’m not, and this so-called friend of mine should know that….whoever she is. This chick and her friend “Sarah” should also be reminded that mind games are only fun when you’re not on the receiving end. Have you girls learned nothing from watching Scream?

Posted by KZ on 10/21/02

I admit, I feel giddy every time I’m watching a movie and one of the characters says the title of the film. When Clint Eastwood’s doctor told him that she’d need to run his blood work, I smiled to myself. When Tom Cruise was told to look for the minority report, I wanted to stand up and cheer. When Ray Liotta explained how good it felt to be a goodfella, I pissed my pants. I think every movie should have at least one moment in which a character mentions the title in a very explicit way. How cool would it have been if, at the end of The Deer Hunter, after everybody finished singing “God Bless America,” Robert Deniro turned to the camera with an ominous expression on his face and said, “Hey…I’m the Deer Hunter,” and then the screen faded to black? Genius. That would have been brilliant.

Posted by KZ on 10/18/02

Am I the only one that pictures a sassy blonde woman every time I read a news article that refers to Ariel Sharon as simply “Sharon?”

Posted by KZ on 10/16/02

Supposedly you dream every time you fall asleep. That’s a shame, since I never seem to remember my dreams when I wake up. Last night, though, I dreamt something that was worth remembering. I didn’t dream of giants and towering beanstalks, nor of witches and scores of little people who break out into spontaneous fits of seemingly choreographed musical numbers. No. I dreamed of something far more mundane; and yet it filled me with a greater sense of wonder than could any other fantasy. I dreamed that she was mine. I don’t remember much, but I do remember the moments that counted the most. I’d reach out my hand, she’d offer me hers, our palms would caress, and our fingers would intertwine. We would kiss, and there’d be no interruptions, no pulling away. Throughout the night, I was overwhelmed with a profound sense of joy. When I awoke in the morning, I blinked away the happy delusions that came with sleep and my heart grew heavy.

I told her recently that I was over her, and she seemed to believe me. Hell, at the time, even I believed it. Maybe I’m still living in my dream world, but I’ve been getting the feeling these days that she still cares. I could be wrong. But is it so wrong to dream? Ugh, even I’m not buying that one.

Posted by KZ on 10/14/02

According to a recent study, roughly a third of all Americans are obese. That’s really good to know…too bad that story first broke like 20 years ago. It’s become something of a cliché now for news publications and news broadcasters to wag their admonishing finger at the fat people of America. If you watch the news on a regular basis, you’ll notice they run this kind of story about once every four months. We get it already—we’re a bunch of fat, lazy sloths. What’s even more bothersome is the way these broadcasters choose to report this story. Invariably, they always show footage of big people walking down the street. The picture is always from the neck down, to preserve the people’s anonymity. Regardless, it’s still a character assassination of sorts. The editors barrage your television screen with countless consecutive images of bouncing bellies, chafing thighs, and fat, waddling asses. That, i think, is beyond rude. How would you like it if you came home one day, sat down to watch the news, and you saw footage of your own fat ass staring back at you? I think that’s a question we should all ask ourselves. Me? I’d probably change the channel to the Cartoon Network and laugh my jolly ass off. Sticks and stones, my friends.

Posted by KZ on 10/11/02

Some people are so freaken lazy, and then they wonder why they are so fat!!

Go to the gym, FATTY!!

Posted by KZ on 10/08/02