Andy Cohen rethinks wearing his Snoopy t-shirt to the gym.
It is such a beautiful morning here, and I'm not just saying that because I am on a cardio burn high sitting in the back of a delightful cab serenaded by sweet jazz. It actually IS a beautiful day, and if you don't believe me ask Rick Sanchez. Actually, would you mind if I asked him? Is it wrong to have a crush on Rick Sanchez? Would Miss California disapprove?
Tonight is my absolute FAVORITE episode of the season of Millionaire Matchmaker. And you know I'm not going to lie and tell you that actually my fave is the finale in two weeks. Although the rest are fantastic, tonight is IT in my book. It is LOLOLOL. OL. And even a lil more OL. Patti cracks me UP tonight. OK enough. It will be my luck that after all this buildup, you'll hate it.
I think I spent the 12 hours following the NYC reunion taping in some kind of traumatic shock. I literally felt like pooping on the floor and running down Wall Street like a baboon. Once I was out of my trauma, I was able to see how hilar and entertaining the seven hours was. It was just a lot of ENERGY. It always is, and I wouldn't have it any other way. I love the ladies!
I read all your comments yesterday about wanting to see more of the reunion than one hour and we are all discussing. It is stuff you NEED to see, for your health. I get it. By the way, Liza called with a litany of things she left out of her comments yesterday; she wished she had more time to write them, she said. At the top of her list is that the Countess has brilliant posture.
Equinox was hopping this morning. I felt like it was a reunion of people I don't know, and to whom I've never spoken, but have seen for years in tank tops and sweat. Everybody looked good for their age except me. And that is partly due to this nugget of ayem self discovery: it is not appropriate to wear a Snoopy t-shirt to the gym when you're 40. I was just being me but ... I think maybe I should start to think big picture before I dress for the gym now.
Though I didn't actually HEAR a word of it from my treadmill, I could tell that the TODAY show was en fuego this morning. It was reminiscent of one of those mornings where I'd be in the control room at CBS watching our live Ringling Brothers clown performance on our empty plaza and look at the moniter at Amy Poehler mingling with a screaming rock center mob, and a bumper promoting Beyonce performing live. That's who they had today, Amy P and Beyonce performing. How the F do you compete with that? GMA had dreck (a paella cookoff and marriage tips from a creepy couple) and CBS wasn't even on at the gym. And the truth is they could be miserable at TODAY, too. All I know is that I am glad I don't work in morning TV anymore. It is painful. Seriously.
CAB REPORT: Though the traffic was terrible, the smooth jazz in 4G58 was therapeutic. My cabbie was a rare breed: American. His name was Eugene. I didn't pay attention to him until the very end of the ride because I was writing this piece of crap blog entry the whole way. When I DID look up, I noticed that he was in fact what we call a "groovy ghouly," picking stuff out of his beard. And he had a burping issue. How did I not hear the burps before I looked up? Oh Eugene, are you seeing anybody?