FHC’s resurrected blog

Le Blog, C'est Moi

Once again, I haven't been officially asked to blog today.  In fact, I got a text suggesting that I might be unwelcome here:

LL: "Do you want me to blog today FHC?"

FHC:  "It's OK LL! We know you are busy! Besides, no one  reads your entries and they lower the quality and hilarity.  LE BLOG, C'EST MOI!"

Meanwhile, I've been entering the New Yorker caption contest approximately once a month and consistently losing.  Apparently it's because there's only one answer to every cartoon: "Christ, what an asshole." 

In the blogosphere today, this autistic high school student scored approximately 100 points in the last 20

seconds of a basketball game.  It even got us cynical gays to think basketball is inspirational.  Meanwhile, I also learned (from a professor at my school no less) that in my future profession we don't only  make millions from chasing ambulances, but also by stealing from Holocaust survivors.  Finally, if a the housing bubble bursts while FHC is away, does the misfortune of others still make him happy?

FHC sunday evening blues of the Businessman

If everything goes well I should be back in la France on Tuesday morning. Like usual after a week or so on a business trip, I am dying to be on my way back home. I just never manage to relax when I am traveling for work and end up feeling like a hamster on its wheel incessantly walking between my messy hotel room and the office like a Zombie and mostly thinking about work issues.

I tried earlier today to slow down a little to avoid an unnecessary nervous breakdown. Strangely I could not nap which is pretty worrying on a Sunday for me. After a few unsuccessful attempts, I went down by the pool with Tom Ford lying on the Vanity Fair cover which usually would be synonym of a good time but could not really get into it and drifted to listen to the boring conversation of the Air France personnel (which was mostly about their own work issues) working on their tan close by. I felt a bit desperate. Suddenly I felt somehow crushed by the thought that maybe I had entirely wasted the last seven days of my life feeling so frustrated with what I was doing all day. I was experiencing symptoms similar to a post-marathon depression.

I sometimes really wonder what motivates me in [I wrote working so hard and just deleted it… let’s not push it] taking things so seriously and getting so stressed about doing a good job to the point of making myself sick. I wish I could say that it is entirely due to the fact that I have a passion for my job and a real worry about its potential effect. And it might indeed be a part of the answer. But I am actually afraid that some of the real motivations might be a very drippy and disgusting need for approval, a need to control everything or even worse the fear of failure. I feel sometimes quite ashamed by the pleasure I get from the (rare) pat in the back or the grateful e-mail I get from a colleague. I know that some of them are just acceptance pushers, people that understood they could make me work just by giving a little approval I am craving for and who intentionally keep their approval scarce on the market to make me work even harder for them. I could probably just do less, step back a little and still do a very fine job without feeling an abnormal pressure. Perhaps I have to learn to be sloppier, to let it go, to overlook deadlines, to take the whole thing less seriously. But for that I will need to be less dependent on everybody’s approval.

I finally ended up doing the most logical thing in this situation, I popped 25 mg of Benadryl (an anti-allergic medication which also happens to cause drowsiness) and just woke up after about 3 hours of chemically produced deep sleep. I did feel guilty of not working on that Sunday afternoon after I had tacitly agreed to but this little rebellious act gave me back a little of the dignity I felt I had lost during this week.

I don’t know about Chlamydia, but someone get me tested for OSCAR FEVER!

Note:  No one has even given me the instruction to blog today.  I’m just assuming it’s my responsibility and going ahead with the operation.  FHC’s Resurrected and staff take no responsibility in whole or part for the surprisingly inoffensive material I’ve composed below.

I’m in the middle of booking my travel to DC next weekend (I know, I’ve been there so many times recently, right?)  It occurred to me, though, that if I return to my home on Sunday, I’m going to miss the 70-something or other^th annual Academy Awards.  Well, in the name of everything holy – and some things that aren’t (cough) anal intercourse (cough) – I can’t miss even a second of the Oscars.  I have, what we call in the business, Oscar Fever.  (No, FHC, this isn’t something you can catch abroad).  Anyway, rather than miss the red carpet, political diatribes masked as acceptance speeches, and awkward kissing on stage (do you think we’ll get a gay kiss in honor of BB Mountain this year?), I’ve decided to come back to Chelsea at the crack of dawn Monday morning.  In honor of my utter lunacy, here are my guesses (not necessarily my preferences) in the major categories, highlighted in red:

Best Actor:

Philip Seymour Hoffman - Capote

Terrence Howard – Hustle and Flow

Heath Ledger – Brokeback Mountain

Joaquin Phoenix – Walk the Line

David Strathairn – Goodnight and Goodluck

Surprise Possibility: Edward R. Murrow, for lines that he actually spoke, like, um, in real life.

Best Supporting Actor:

George Clooney – Syriana

Matt Dillon – Crash

Paul Giamatti – Cinderella Man

Jake Gyllenhall – Brokeback Mountain

William Hurt – A History of Violence

Surprise Possibility:  Jake Gyllenhall.  For only playing a gay on TV.  And for getting us to believe him.

Best Actress:

Judi Dench – Mrs. Henderson Presents

Felicity Huffman – Transamerica

Keira Knightly – Pride and Prejudice

Charlize Theron – North Country

Reese Witherspoon – Walk the Line

Unlikely Winner:  Teri Hatcher, obvi

Best Supporting Actress:

Amy Adams – June Bug

Catherine Keener – Capote

Frances McDormand – North Country

Rachel Weisz – The Constant Gardener

Michelle Williams – Brokeback Mountain

Unlikely Winner: Rachel Weisz, The Mummy Returns

Best Original Screenplay:

Crash

Good Night and Good Luck

Match Point (remember, LL, not a comedy)

The Squid and the Whale

Syriana

Surprise Possibility:  Good Night and Good Luck.  Ha, totes JK.  I think that’s called plagiarism.

Best Adapted Screenplay:

Brokeback Mountain

Capote

The Constant Gardener

A History of Violence

Munchen

Surprise Possibility:  FHC’s Resurrected Blog, The History of Love

Achievement in Directing (d/b/a “best director”):

Ang Lee – Brokeback Mountain

Bennett Miller – Capote

Paul Haggis – Crash

George Clooney – Good Night and Good Luck

Steven Spielberg – Munich

Unlikely Winner:  Yingyang Lee, Bareback Mountain

Best Picture:

Brokeback Mountain – yada yada yada producers

Capote

Crash

Good Night and Good Luck

Munich

Surprise Possibility: My Dinner with Andre, always a contender, and with new meaning thanks to Tim Gunn 

FHC just can’t turn it off

On these trips where I spend a lot of time confined in Hotel Rooms and meetings, there is always a significant part of my nights (estimated to 22.7% by my data collection services) that I spend sadly hypnotized, staring at the TV set. I just zapp incessantly from one channel to another and cannot find the strength to just go to bed even if I feel completely exhausted. It is so strange. It’s like some kind of a post-traumatic stress syndrome, after days of hard work I just scotch blankly in front of bad TV and endless documentaries. Sometimes I watch successively five credits rolling as if I was hoping to recognize some familiar name. It's frustrating as hell as it contributes to tire me even more – and we know the potentially dramatic result in the morning - which makes me increasingly stressed out and eventually makes me stay in front of TV even later the night after. Sometimes it even is worrying because I have no idea when my arm will obey to my command of letting it go and turn off the monster. I wish my Austrian nanny would just show up and scream at me “Lieber eich mein monkey!!!, go play outside”. Just yesterday night I watched powerless some boring stuff from 11 p.m. to 12:45 a.m. (a little bit of Peter Pan which I had already watched twice earlier this week and some unconvincing preacher). I believe that anyway I don’t see anything at all as – LL could confirm – I need to be very close to the monitor to distinguish anything.

I suspect that what motivates me is identical to what motivates British people (and incidentally Kevin W.) to get drunk at the Pub after work on weekdays: check that they are still alive and silently protest against the corporate machine which leads them to devote entire part of their homosexual lives to working. Another explanation could be that Kevin D. and I have no cable in DC. We lost cable in horrible circumstances. Or perhaps I am secretly hoping that finally some gay porn will show up on CNN or RTL2 if I wait long enough (this is actually a highly probable reason as I get as horny as your average Kevin D. in those trips).

Pcitures on this entry have been provided by dearest LL who wanted to confirm that he is not only messing up my gorgeous bedroom when I am present. Don’t forget this is open house at FHC tonight !

FHC is oblivious to beauty....

And I am back. I spent the last 4 hours in a car without air conditionings so don’t expect me to be all cheerful. Yet I am really glad to see that everybody is getting ready to party tonight in my house while I am away with not even one chance to get pity-f**ked like my friend Daved A. plans to. If you see my bf, please tell him to report to the Captain, and to not open my e-bay packages. Clearly some people around 1624 have forgotten my little existence (barbarians). Do you know how painful it is to have no access to internet for 24 hours?

I have to admit that I was in a gorgeous place for the last two days though. I still managed to be in a pretty bad mood but I think I was somehow touched by such beauty, or whatever it is that people who have time to be sensitive to their surroundings feel when they are in gorgeous places (not LL as we saw in Paris, LL is also insensitive to gorgeous sight…. No wonder the kid would hope to spend all of his vacations in Cancùn). I was constantly repeating myself “you should enjoy, so many people would dream to contemplate that”. I did not enjoy per say, you know me, but I was conscious I should have which already is some kind of an improvement. Continually moving from one place to another is disruptive to me and I miss my TV. I think I also was missing ebay and still a bit afraid that some silly ass sickened chicken would jump on me from some dark corner he was doing avian business in. There is a lot of that going on around here lately with all these fugitive chicks.

I knew a woman once who always told me “you should not travel like a luggage”, lately I have been traveling like a trash bag. I wish I was working in a meat processing plant.

LL is Busted, Or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Le Blog

Dear FHC,

I know I’m busted, so you don’t have to tell me.  It’s 9.30pm and I’m just posting to le Blog now, even though I was informed over 8 hours ago that it was my duty today.  I’d try to explain, but I know whatever explanation I offer will just “sound fishy.”

On that note, since you’ve abandoned me for weeks on end, I wanted to report on what’s been happening in NYCville since you’ve been gone.  Recently military recruiters have come to campus recently and people have taken to taping their mouths shut.  Chira[c] reported that at his school, where he also duck (duct???) taped his mouth closed a girl reported them to Career Services to complain that they were being disruptive.  Um…as Chira[c] himself said, “Our mouths were taped.  We couldn’t make any noises or speak.”  They couldn’t even given each other blowjobs in front of the door.  I, on the other hand, didn’t protest at all.  In fact, I kind of secretly sort of discreetly but not only just a little wanted to interview.  I know, technically I can’t work for the military, even as an attorney, because of stupid DA/DT.  But am I the only one who thinks working for the JAG corps would be hot?  I’d get an amazing uniform, a cute hair cut, and I could really use six weeks of basic training to firm up some of my soft, rounded edges.  Does this make me a traitor?  Well, maybe.  But I wouldn’t actually do it unless they allowed gays in, or at least allowed gay sex in. 

Last night I went with Nick D. to BBar.  Chris R., who was on a date, met us there.  You’ll be glad to know that Chris R’s prospect had a lightning bolt shaved into the side of his head.  Kind of like Harry Potter, only not so much magical as really really atrocious. 

Finally, I leave for my trip to le casaDC sans FHC tomorrow.  Are there any chores that you need me to do while I’m there?  I’ll make sure Kevin D. is feeding Oliver D. le chat and watering Howard M., le plant. 

 

Is it obvious that Ilovesushi2009 ?

And that when I am short on time for the usual blogging, I pull one of those? You might want to know before judging that I have the weakest internet connection ever in the Wild Donkey Place. I am moving again tomorrow and won’t be able to blog until Thursday. *smooch*

FHC: L !!!

LL: FHC who ?

FHC: Surprise surprise ! You did not expect me to stroll in ! Did you now ?

LL: Are you still working or done for the day - isn't it 9 pm up in the Wild Donkeys place ?

FHC: Would you mind using punctuation pleth ? Aren’t you the little inspector Gadget L? No it is 3:09 pm.

LL: It’s 3.09pm here FHC

FHC: Oh in NYC too? Ok then I am the one busted ! I am in atlanta, Georgia

LL: We can tell when you're lying

FHC: How ?

LL: because you blush, your skin gets greasy and you start breaking out.

[LL announces a bathroom break]

FHC: *sniffle* Busted. How was the bathroom?

LL: It was nice, Nick D. was there.

FHC: OH OH OH (laughing really hard). What happened to your bf Fagat ?

LL: Haha, i just made up that detail anyway. I am still cheating on you with Fagat.

FHC: yeth ?

LL: Tell me about people you miss.

FHC: Faye Dunaway…mostly…and stuff

LL: That's what i figured, she says hi by the way

FHC: What should I have for diner ?

LL: NOT BIRDS

LL: veau?

FHC: YEAHHHHH

LL: i thought we were banned anyway from talking about our dinners

FHC: I am the captain of the LLs, I can talk about diners and random stuff. You are the one that as a mandate to be romantic, cute and intellectual !

LL: Haha, i can only do the middle one, you should know that by now. Plus, how can you be captain when you didn’t even make the team

FHC: I founded the f***ing team. Don't push me over le hedge!

LL: Haha, i'd forgotten you were the founder, it was just an oversight

FHC: L other gorgeous ephebes are talking to me... IM is so uncomfortable.

LL: btw, i'm going to buy a megamillons ticket today

FHC: I love you Sushi.

FHC: Sorry my mistake.

FHC: How many mega millions (we call it billions us intellectuals)

LL: a lot - i think it’s 270 megamillions

FHC: There is not such a thing as megamillion M. Yale undergrad !

LL: well then what is all this lottery talk about

FHC: Are you ready for your big week end ! big L ?

LL: I'm so excited about sharing a bed with Fagat

LL: You're right, this IM thing is dangerous

LL: FHC?

FHC: BREAK UP !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Later on that evening. From Clint M.: You Dork.  IMed you and you just signed off!!  How are you?  I just wanted to drop you a quick line to say hello and see how life was treating you.  Don’t be a stranger.

This wretched soul of mine...

What is more horrible than Paradise. I wish I was in Moscow right now or somewhere remotely Russian. The gorgeous autochthones, the nice weather and the sight of the ocean in the Wild Donkeys place which I can only stare from either a car or an office are starting to get on my (fragile) nerves. Jetlag contributes to it too (WHERE IS MY AMBIEN KEVIN? WHERE?): I woke up in the middle of the night and after some pathetic efforts to convince myself to get back to sleep “At the count of three, you will find yourself in FHC’s special place…. One....two....three..... 6. Oh look FHC! the Light Vache qui Rit is discounted”, I gave up. I watched some soft porn on an obviously European Channel as well as a movie on women enslaved in Ramalla….an maybe…ok…maybe a little bit of Peter Pan (doubled in French). I meditated for what felt to be hours on advertising for a nail fungus cure called Lamisil which reminded of this movie “A delicate balance” LL and I watched together and was too complex for everybody involved. I hesitated to blog about my misery but thought this topic has been sufficiently covered and finally went on a $80 shopping spree on e-bay (1901 The Pean / Yearbook Exeter Academy – only $34 …a bargain). Lovely LL, always unbelievably à-propos, sent me the enclosed article. Yet I felt very feeble this morning. I would probably be suicidal if I had not had a delicious Blanquette de Veau at lunchtime and felt some perverse pleasure in watching my guest swallowing an undercooked chicken which seemed to be screaming avian flu. There is a thin red line between the mad and the depressed in FHC’s world.

By the way, you will be glad to hear that I only won $7 to the Powerball, I will now always live with the suspicion that if I had won the whole jackpot, LL would have sent some hitmen to the Wild Donkey’s place to get it and leave me for dead.

Yo Voté Hoy

Disclaimer: FHC sent me the login and password to his blog and has had no oversight of the content of this blog.  He’s not in anyway responsible for any decrease in stories about casual sex, offensive material or boring content about American elections.  Sorry, some of us just aren't as funny, clever or insolent as FHC.

Even though I’ve lived in Connecticut, Washington DC, and now New York, I’ve always been one of those temporary vagabond types that continues to vote in his home state – Illinois.  I pay taxes there, after all, so really I should make sure to have input in who my elected officials are.  The only problem is that most of the selections on the ballot either only have one choice (State Central Committeewoman, for example) or are for a position that I don’t understand and don’t really care who fills (in this case, Precinct Committeeman – which happens to only have female candidates, oh well).

Then there are the positions that EVERYONE cares about and has an opinion on.  Our mildly unpopular Governor, Rod Blagojevich (blah-GOY'-uh-vich) for instance, has a primary challenger, some johnny-come-lately Edwin Eisendrath.  Since Roddy looks like he might be in some trouble in the general election, and because I hate supporting losers, I thought I would do a little online research on this Edwin character so I could cast an informed vote, even from 700 miles away.  From his website, I learned that Edwin, it turns out, is a flip-flopper of the first order:

On “Reproductive Rights:”

I believe we Americans have privacy rights that limit government's reach into our most personal decisions…I do not believe, however, that abortion is the only or best option available to women and their families.

On Gun Control:

I support common sense measures that keep guns out of the hands of children and criminals and measures to make weapons less likely to be discharged accidentally. At the same time, gun related sportsmanship is an important part of the lives of many people in Illinois and hunting is essential to the humane management of wildlife in the state.

On School Prayer (who knew this was still being debated):

I believe in the power of prayer. I support the right of an individual to pray wherever and whenever he or she wishes. At the same time we are a diverse country with different traditions and beliefs so I do not support organized prayer in public schools.

On Gay Marriage, he took the biggest “have it both ways” position of all:

I support civil unions for gay couples.

Yeah, well, I hate domestic abuse too, Ed.  There goes one challenger that I won’t vote for.  Incumbent, here I come.

Next, I have to vote for a challenger to my Congressman, Mark Kirk, who happens to be a Republican but is also actually enlisted as a Navy Intelligence something or other and was even sent to Iraq at the beginning of the war (not, I imagine, for high stakes combat).  But at least he went.  My choice is between two total randos: Dan Seals and Zane Smith.  If you google “Dan Seals” you find some random country musician.  Message to Google: help us create an informed electorate!  Zane Smith, as luck would have it, is also the name of a professional baseball player, so when I googled him, I learned his ERA and batting averages, but not his position on why my taxes should be lower.  Since I couldn’t find any information on my own, and since my parents always have strong political opinions, I decided to call home and ask who to vote for.  My father said he’s voting for Dan Seals because he went to Harvard and is black.  “Do you know anything else about him?”  “Well, it sounds like he has some support.”  Hmm.  Sounds like a winner – he’s got my vote!  Finally, there are three judgeships with no candidates.  If any unemployed lawyers out there are looking for a good job, have I got a Nineteenth Judicial Circuit opening for you.

There you have it – LL’s participation in democracy.  Hope it wasn’t too boring or alarming.  In other news, the rumors are true.  LL was spotted signing Karaoke last night with his college roommates, and he and Fagat are in fact sharing FHC’s bed next Friday night.  But don’t worry, we’ve been informed that Kevin D. has been offered quite a large bounty for catching us doing something FHC wouldn’t do.

Lastly, and most importantly, as our faithful readers know, FHC and LL made it officially a year yesterday.  For 50% of us involved in the relationship, it’s certainly the longest I’ve ever been with someone and every minute has been wonderful.  Love you and miss you FHC!

FHC wants you to call him H51N

Back at the airport… this time seriously on my way to the wild donkeys. Some fat drug smuggling f**er in the lounge is snoring and it drives me crazy. I am dying to break his nose. I really wish they would not allow mules in. Another f**er has been using the courtesy phone for hours and is calling his entire address book so that everybody around his aware of his lack of talent in making conversation to his close family and friends (mental note: make sure to seat next to him in the plane). A cute flight attendant is acting as if he had not noticed I am checking him out.

I felt that it was safe to blog now as we have all noticed in the past that sometimes in the wild donkeys place there is no wireless connection. But my computer crashed (very legitimately as it is saturated with more than 5,500 songs) and I lost all my cute blogging. Anyway I should not even blog, we are on a Saturday for chrissake, it completely is LL’s responsibility: I’ll make sure the napping bastard makes an entry tomorrow.

LL has been insisting that I should watch Pride and Prejudice in the plane but I doubt it qualifies as a serious suggestion. I also really need to steal some tea bags to avoid any shortage of tea. I am not good at stealing but I am trying to get better.

In Paris at dinner, people asked me about the Cézanne exhibition in Washington, DC: it was very embarrassing. I quickly re-oriented the conversation on Desperate Housewives, The Swann and Arrested Development. I also slept very badly since Sushi convinced me that I actually have a double personality disorder.

The Powerball jackpot today is $350 million and it also happens to be the day I win. Coincidences. Also should I buy Google now that it is spiraling down? it seems logical.