Bex Schwartz, Rainbowchaser

Bex Schwartz, Rainbowhunter, originally uploaded by starbexxx.

So my boyfriend has this totally kickassawesomerad cabin-by-the-woods (little-old-man-by-the-window-stood) (saw a rabbit hopping by, knocking on his door). And we fled there this Saturday night after spending the entire day building Ikea.

Digression: See, Noah and I love our new pad, but it sure is a money pit full of snakes that angry. Everything needs to be tweaked and adjusted or straightened and shimmed or build or redone. There were two main problems with the kitchen: 1) the cabinets are so tall that little ol' me can only reach the first shelf and they're totally impractical and 2)we have no "public space" (read: utility closet; read: where to put the vaccuum cleaner and kitty litter). So we bought two mega Ikea cabinets and they finally arrived. So we (me and Noah and the boyf) spent Saturday constructing them. Oh, man. We built the difficult one first -- it's this 8-foot-tall pull-out pantry of food storagedom ingenuity. And it was so fucking hard to build that I want my Ikea merit badge, stat. It was soo tough that we named it Great White. And then we built the second one, which is an 8-foot-tall cabinet thing with shelves, to hold, among other things, the vacuum and kitty litter. And it's rad but so less tricky and flashy than Great White. We were calling it Great White's Lesser Twin but that sounded so sad. So we ended up with the very melancholy Great White and The Cabinet With No Name.

Anyhoo. So the boyfriend and I split for the cabin-by-the-woods late Saturday night, to spend the rest of the weekend maxin' 'n' relaxin' and breathing fresh mountain air. On Sunday night, we headed into town to pick up some groceries and ended up following this beeeyoutiful rainbow the whole time, so we eventually pulled over and took photos of it.

When I was a kid, I was mad for rainbows, or "wainbows," as I called them. MAD. My wallpaper patter was little pastel rainbows flowing into cloudbanks. I loooooved rainbows. Had rainbow EVERYTHING. I still have lots of rainbow things -- a scarf, a a sweater, socks, that pride flag they give you when you move to Chelsea -- all the basics. And so I was oh-so-excited to see this lovely rainbow. Hence the elation. I want to pass out business cards with just this photo that say: Bex Schwartz, Rainbowchaser.

It nicely brings out that hippie-dippie side that I keep hidden.

Right. So we're driving around, listening to E sing "Goddamn right, it's a beautiful day," and it was awesome. Did you know E's dad is Dr. Hugo Everett III, author of the "many worlds" hypothesis in the quantum physics universe? HOW FUCKING RAD IS THAT. Just wanted to share. I love that.

Happy Baltimore Oriole Day

When I was a kid, I always thought "Memorial Day" was "Oriole" day, and the only oriole i knew was the one from Baltimore. Anyhoo.

I'm doing so much better, chickens! My Colitis Andronicus is clearing up right-nice. The only problemo is that my antibiotics make me massively dizzy and woozy. So I get to swoon all the time. Swoooooon.

I am doing a show this Wednesday:
BRUTAL HONESTY IS BACK! June 1 at Otto's Shrunken Head! (538 E 14th)

This month's topic: "I said "yes" -- Drugs, drinks and the downward spiral."

With: VH1's (A to Z and "All Access") BEX SCHWARTZ!!!!
Everyone Win's Co-Host, MARK SAM ROSENTHAL!!!
Host, Royal Wood, Spoiler Film Festival, ROSEMARY STEVENS!
The Comedy Social's own CAROLYN CASTIGLIA!!!
Don't know him but hear he's fucking A-MAZING DAVE HILL!!!!
WWW.JESSYDELFINO.BLOGSPOT.COM means one thing: JESSY DELFINO, PEOPLE.

My friend Lianne co-hosts it, or co-produces it (or something). I am so stoked the gig's at Ottos's -- that's where I had my birthday two years ago, because it's tikitiki and they serve blue drinks that glow (my faveraveraverave thing to drink evuh. I'm not allowed to drink because of my medimacations for the tummy, but I think that by Wednesday I'm done with the "Do not drink" antibiotic. Let's hope).

The Girl With Colitis Goes By

Hello, chickens. I've been outta touch because I've been outta commission -- knocked down and out by a violent tummy problem. I'm okay -- on the road to wellville, as they say. I had my first NYC ER experience, because my doctor thought i might have appendicitis (i didn't!) and my boyfriend was a supertrouper, holding my hand throughout the IV insertion and generally being an all-around beacon of awesomeness. My 'rents came in from NJ, too, and having everyone there made everything a lot less scary. I watch too many medical dramas, i guess (actually, i only watch one, "House," and I only watch it once in a while, only because I think it's kinda neat and Hugh Laurie is good) but I've absorbed a lot of fear from those shows. My father is also a victim of medical-drama-overload -- he observed EMT's loading a gurney out of an ambulance and quipped that he hoped they washed that ambulance out right afterwards -- after all, he watches 3rd Watch.

So, most of my going-to-the-hospital-because-you-might-have-appendicitis was based on Curious George Goes to the Hospital. I was miffed -- they told me I had to drink four whole glasses of barium, and I was all, "What? Curious George only drank one glass of a chalky white substance!" But mine wasn't chalky; it was clear and they mixed it with apple juice. My dad once had to drink a barium milkshake, and he warned me that I would have glow-in-the-dark poo (AWESOME!) that would come out like stones (NOT AWESOME!) I guess they've improved their barium technology since the 60s, because I didn't see any glow nor stones. We joked about how if I had glow-in-the-dark poo I'd have to save it and bag it, like the exquisite piece of poo in 'Been Down So Long, Looks Like Up To Me,' one of our fave books.

I guess Curious George is a monkey and I am a tallish female, and that's why I had to drink four whole glasses of it. I also remembered Madeleine, who, when she had appendix issues, got to stay in a hospital room that had a crack that had a habit of something looking like a rabbit. I saw no rabbit. But then, I didn't actually have my appendix out, so maybe that had something to do with it.

So I had a CAT Scan and it was weirdly sci-fi and they injected my IV with this iodine radioactive stuff and I kinda hoped I'd turn into a super hero (ahem, into MORE of a superhero) but I didn't -- nor did I turn into a cat. And it turned out that my appendix was a-okay but my colon was all messed up. I have a swollen colon!

Bex: I have a swollen colon.
Josh: Quick -- tell Jay Golon!
Bex: I can't, he's bowlin'.
Josh: No, his ball was stolen.

My mom called my brother, Adam, to tell him I was okay. Adam responded with "The warm smell of colitis rising up through the air." I countered with "The girl with colitis goes by." Set, point, match.

So I've been on a liquid diet for days. Both my wonder boyfriend and my mom brought over Pedialyte (actually, my mom brought over something EVEN BETTER -- bright blue almost Pedialyte -- it's another brand, but it's BRIGHT FUCKING BLUE AND SO VERY BEAUTIFUL). My mom and my boyfriend bonded during the whole hospital excursion -- they took smoke breaks together and my mom told him all sorts of embarassing things like how i like to have "Winnie The Pooh" read to me when I'm sick. The boyfriend's been very generous and lovely throughout this ordeal, even suffering through a night of loud tummy noises and whimpering even when he had to get up early for a shoot. Whatta man.

So I'm on bedrest and drinking gatorade and wondering how long it'll take til I get Lindsay Lohan thin. Just kidding -- I like my boobs too much to get that freakzoid 'rexic. She's scary. SCARY! I've just been sleeping and answering urgent work emails and watching TV (Holy season finale of lost! I mean, I knew The Others wanted The Boy once Rousseau said "The Boy" and not "The Baby" but WHY DID THE SCARY SCARY FISHERMAN OTHER HAVE AN AMERICAN ACCENT? He's an American??? What the Heche?)

Any my tummy still hurts but I'm doing much better. I might even move on to attempting to eat applesauce today -- hold the phone, how crazy.

Take good care of yourselves and watch your colons, kids.

Bex Went Back to College, and This is What She Saw

Quoth the raven: "It's never fun looking for a hook-up, but it's always fun to wear a preposterous hat."


EVERmore, motherfuckers.

See, our old pal Ben's mom works at this school, teaching art. And this old lady died and left behind an enormous quantity of rad hats. So Ben's mom was given the hats so her kids could use 'em and make art. But Ben's mom knew that Ben, a former theater major (like myself -- in fact, he rocked my lights SO BRILLZ for my sr. thesis project back i.t.d. {in the dizzay}) was about to return to Wes for reunion and so she gave him the hats to donate to the theatre department there (prizzops!)

But we intercepted the hats. Oh, quelle joie. "intercepted," like they say in football. Bill Belichick, another fellow wes alum, was at reunion/commencement and spoke to the crowds and got an honorary degree. i'm allz, "yo, i went to wesleyan because the football players in high school were dreadful, and now there's mr. successful football dude from wesleyan being all important? brain fart!"


any hooski: My tummy hurts like nobody's mofo business. yeeouch.

Rock These Fine Folks

Look! This nice man named Dildo T. Baggins has both a nice blog and a crush on me!

Look! My longlost friend Dag Juhlin , whom I met when he was on tour with my pal John Wesley Harding and my very old buddy Scott McCaughey, has been watching me on VH1 and sent me an email and now he's resurfaced (because I can only think about people who are in my immediate frame of reference). Welcome back to Planet Bex, Mr. Dag!

A Little Bit o' College Goes a Long Way

Yowza, tigers, I'm back! I spent the weekend at good ol' Wesleyan for my five-year college reunion. Total kickawesome, but now I'm exhausted and overwhelmed with work. So I can't tell you about the exciting things we did right now, but let me whet your appetite with three appetizing teases
1) pub crawl!
2) funny hats!
3) brown-bagged malternatives!

oh, yes.

Me 'n' My Pal Tom

Me 'n' My Pal Tom, originally uploaded by starbexxx.

This is me and my pal Tom at his birthday party. Tom is one of my oldest bex-in-nyc friends -- we were in Grindhouse together and he's known me since 4-evah. Tom apparently knows the secrets to the fountain of youth because he is so much older than he looks. He says he owes it all to moisturizer, but I think it's because he never forgot how to play.

I Remember You Well In the Chelsea Hotel

So, yo, I sooooo live soooo totally close to the Chelsea hotel. We went out for some lychee martinis at the bar there and I always swoon a little as I near that place. See, my first-ever directing gig was when I did "Cowboy Mouth" at college and, as we all know, Sam Shepard and Patti Smith wrote it there, or at least based it on their experiences there, or whatever. And, dude, there's the whole Syd and Nancy thing. "Ron and Nancy got the house but Syd and Nancy rule" -- quick! Name it and claim it! (Dar Williams, "alleluia.")

So, I heart the Chelsea hotel mostly because of the Leonard Cohen song. Lyrics, babe. I've always adored this song, I think it's fucking brilliant -- "you told me again, you preferred handsome men, but for me, you would make an exception." Apparently, the song is about a one-night stand with Janis Joplin (but I always used to think it was about Patti.) Here's info on the Janis thing -- but also dig the original lyrics! Holy raw kickawesome SEX!

Anyhoo. I went to my friend's birthday party on Saturday night. We hadn't seen each other for a while; he's from the part of my life when i was W-I-L-D (the way Baby screams it to Johnny after he breaks the window so they can get into the car so they can drive to where it's easier to practice lifts in the water) and when I really cared cared cared about subversiveness and unrepressedness and art. I, um, I really miss that epoch. Really, really, rilly rilly. This birthday boy was the main catalyst for me to free myself and be myself and I miss both those days and that feeling.*

Anyhoodlerinos. I'm way tired and my pinched nerve is bad and my neck is all sorts of fizzucked and Logo continues to kick my ass (NOTE: launching June 30th! Logo is GONNAZ ROCK YOU SO HARDCIZZORE STYLLZ!) and I must away to sleep.

*Those were the reasons, and that was New York. I was running for the money and the flesh. That was called love, for the workers in song. And it still is for those of us left.

Most Awesome Celeb Beefs -- on now!

Don't miss me in "VH1 All Access More Awesome Celeb Beefs" -- it premieres tonight at 9:30pm! Watch as I develop a migraine in the middle of the shoot -- let's see if we can tell when my brain started to melt. What a fun game! It's like spotting the Hidden Mickeys at Disneyworld!

So, my fambly and I saw "Spamalot" yesterday, which was awesome. It's so great -- total off-broadway sensibilities with a Broadway cast. Pierce Brosnan sat across the aisle from us! James Bond is soooo cute.

So I was listening to Joe Henry's awesome album "Scar" this morning on the way to work. The album opens with the track "Richard Pryor Addresses A Tearful Nation." Which got me thinking: I think I'd like to write a song for every celeb who needs to address the nation. Like, f'rinstance: Dave Chappelle Addresses a Confused Nation." Or Joe Henry could write it for me. Joe? Hook a sista up.

Look - We're so Wannabe the Spree

album cover at kelly's wedding, originally uploaded by starbexxx.

This photo was art directed by my ol' pal, Rick (he's the pickler!) We just walked out of the Heinz Memorial Chapel after Kelly and Scott's wedding, and Rick arranged this "album cover" photo. We're all playing people in the band -- I was being the ingenue, hence my sex kitten wannabe sprawl.

We shot other "album photos" throughout the night; a night that culminated in a drunken "she came in through the bathroom window" singalong in a bar that stayed open long after Pittsburgh's blue laws should've allowed... more on that as the rest of the photos come into my box. Inbox, that is.

Women of the World, Raise Your Right Hand

Women of the World, Raise Your Right Hand, originally uploaded by starbexxx.

My pal Amanda Panda just stopped in to show me an ad in the new W. The foreground is a giant hand, sporting a ginormous piece of ice. The lady wearing the ring is all diffusion soft-focus, but you can see this look of X-TREME glee on her face. The man who apparently gave her this ring is nowhere to be seen. In fact, you can't really see anything beyond the giant diamond ring and the facial expression of "WOW I AM SO FUCKING AWESOME BECAUSE I HAVE A GIANT DIAMOND RING ON MY HAND, WOOHA!"

Amanda and I always talk about the ickyness of ads in women's magazines. And this new "i am so awesome because of the great big diamond ring on my hand" ad reminds me of the icky, icky, right-hand-ring campaign.

This shit makes me crazy. Surely you've seen these print ads; the copy reads: "Your left hand says "We." Your right hand says "Me." Your left hand rocks the cradle. Your right hand rules the world. Women of the world. Raise your right hand."

GAG ME WITH A SPOON! Because women aren't validated unless they have a diamond ring? But of course, one couldn't buy oneself a diamond ring and wear it on one's ring finger because that would imply one were engaged. So one needs to make sure to wear one's self-purchased diamond on one's RIGHT HAND to show the world "i am rich enough to buy myself a diamond and goddamnit, i'm not waiting around for some man to buy me a diamond, i'll buy it myself -- but, whimper whimper, i'm still single. see? no ring on my left hand. just a ring on my right hand to prove i rule the world. but i wouldn't dare wear a ring on my left hand because then men would think that i'm not available and then they won't ask me out and then i'll never get a date again and then i'll never be able to rock the cradle."

A spoon isn't even good enough for gag-inducing. Like, gag me with a smurf. This kinda shit makes my head spin.

I wear a sparkly snowglobe ring that's full of glitter-water on my left ring-finger, yo. Because it fits that finger and I'm a lefty. Nothing more, nothing less.

Women of the world, don't let DeBeers get you ... they're the ones who invented the whole diamond-engagement-ring thing. And you don't need to encourage cartels and exploit Africans to be validated.

It's a War. A War of the Kittens.

Battlecats, go!

This is a Bald Chimp

baldchimp, originally uploaded by starbexxx.

We were just talking about monkeys. And how it would be awesome to see a monkey shaving. Rob said you'd have to give it a nick-free razor ("like the type the ladies use on their legs," he said). But I said I wanted to see a monkey shave for reals. And Rob said a hairless monkey might look sad. And so we googled "bald monkey" and got bupkes, but we googled "bald chimp" and found this lovely lass. she doesn't look sad. but she does look like a shriveled human being. and to think, they call us naked apes. Golly gee. I have seen a naked ape and I think she just needs a sassy tee-shirt with a glittery iron-on and she'd be all set.

Oh Man, Mike Doughty is So DoublePlus Kickrad

Just in from Mike's stint rocking the Bowery. He's so rad. Every time he broke a guitar string, Handsome Dan Chen (on keyboards) would vamp with Salt 'n' Pepa's "Push It." AWESOME. How I love Mike's music. And to get "True Dreams of Wichita" AND "Janine" AND "The Only Answer" AND so much of his kickradtastic new album all in one show? Brillz. And during Janine, Mike busted out a shoutout to Surreal Life 4 and Verne Troyer. AND JUST YOU WAIT FOR THE PROMOS for Surreal Life 5. I wrote this total "Free To Be, You and Me" little ditty and we got it composed, banjo-stillz. Lyrics, for your precampaignlaunch enjoyment:

It just can't be real, 'cuz it feels like a dream:
A rapper, a slugger, a model supreme,
A racer, a beauty, a one-time apprentice
And one perfect stranger -- its goshdarn momentous!
But it's real, it's so real, it's so real it's surreal!

Josh and I tried to go out for Mexican food preshow but we went to the restaurant that's just like the Hat but not the Hat, a block away from the Hat, and they only had one servon and it was kinda ridonkulous. So we left. But at least we tried to commemorate the holiday spirit. We were talking about how sometimes it's impossible to imagine friends of yours having sex -- not like I spend lots of time envisioning my friends having sex with their sigothers, but there are certain people that are just impossible. Like, if someone said, "Whoops, I walked in on Billy and Jocelyn fucking" your mind would just go blank because you couldn't even imagine it. Josh says, in these cases, his brain just sees a farm full of bunnies. I rather agree.

So, tomorrow I'm off for Pittsburgh, where the "ohnson" in my "Schwohnson" is finally wedding her pre-husband. Such total wondrousness. And, oh my stars, I am so totally flying to Pittsburgh. Little Mz. Jetsetter, c'est moi. I'm offline til I return, so rock your weekend. And keep those cards and letters coming! I'll totally start publishing a "fanmail o' the day" if you keep rocking me hard like this.

It's :05:05:05 on 05/05/05

Fuck yeah!

Best. Fanmail. Ever.

Oh, how I love being semisortakindanearlyalmostmaybe famous. I gets me some fanmail sometimes. It's true. You, yes even you, can write to me ... just to make it difficult, we'll play a little treasure hunt: look at the right-hand column of this page, and somewhere it says "3...2...1... contact!" There's a link there to send me email so you can whisper sweet nothings or scream vitriolic messages of hatred into my ear. So. I've decided to play like Letterman: Letters! We get Letters! We get lots and lots of Letters! So today's Fanmail o' the Day comes from someone named Max. He writes:
"as creepy as it sounds i've been having crazy wet dreams about you, just thought i'd let you know and remind you how people online can be creepy once you're famous. hah"

thanks, Max! You just made my day! A random stranger is having wet dreams about a funny-looking chick who makes obnoxious comments on tv about celebrities she's never met! I LOVE THIS UNIVERSE SO MUCH. I have the most supaduparadtastic fans in the whole wide world.

So I shot ALL ACCESS: Locationships this morning. Ick. I am so over talking about the same stories over and over and over again. Speaking of which, I shot ANNA NICOLE'S MOST SHOCKING yesterday. It made me sad. The same way shooting MICHAEL JACKSON'S MOST SHOCKING made me sad. Because I don't like to make fun of people who are ill. It's just not fair. Speaking of which, MJ'S MOST SHOCKING airs this Monday. I am intrigued to see if they cut it so that I end up sounding like a grumpy old man, going "oh, flibbity floo, back off poor Michael Jackson!"

Back off, man. I'm a ghostbuster.

It's Super Special Tuesday

My buddypal Mike Doughty's AWESOME new album drops today. I've been keeping silent about how AWESOME it is because I had a super special pre-release copy of "Haughty Melodic" (it's an anagram for Mike's name) but now that the rest of the world can listen, too, I can gush:
GO BUY HAUGHTY MELODIC RIGHT THIS SECOND!
Mike Doughty writes lyrics like none other. And you all know how much I heart Soul Coughing -- but I heart Mike Doughty solo-stillz even more. He's rocking the Bowery on May 5th (cinco de Mayo!) And I'll be there. Singing along, content in my dorkitude.

NOT that Mike is a dork -- he is the coolest of cool. He is cooley mcCool. But the whole singing-along-to-every-lyric-this-man-has-ever-written? a tad on the dorky side.


Riot dorrrrk and proud!

Separated at Birth?

christrent, originally uploaded by starbexxx.

My new copy of Spin was waiting for me when I got home. As was a tivo'ed copy of All Access: Most Awesomely Bad Career Moves (because I tivo all my shows because I like to watch them) (because I like to chart my haircolor and weight gains through the months). And look! Look -- who's who?

In college, I made a mix tape my frosh year called "Pretty Boy Music" (named after this guy Rob McDonald who was a math major and a poet and i was googly in-crush and my friends said he was a pretty boy) and it's the soundtrack of 2 semester of my frosh year (when one of our friends went mad -- like, literally mad; he disappeared for a while and came back after a stint in a facility). ANYHOO! That was the semester i got all up into the Soul Coughing grill and broke my ankle running around pretending I was a box monster (with a dorm-refrigerator box on my head). My group in Dance class choreographed a piece about "cool" to "Closer" by Nine Inch Nails. So I put that song on the mixtape.

I played this mixtape a lot during spring break when I was recovering from having my wisdom teeth removed (I wrapped stockings filled with frozen vegetables around my head for the swelling). My mom wanted to know why the lead singer wanted to "fuck you like an enema."

mom: why would he want to fuck you like an enema?
bex: it's fuck you like an animal, ma. sheesh.

Anyhoo! Chris Gaines -- Garth Brook's alter-ego! As referenced in All Access: Awesomely Bad Career Moves! And Trent Reznor! Broody lead singer of Nine Inch Nails and David Lynch-collaborator! Twins?

ANGELA!

Picture006, originally uploaded by starbexxx.

Look. It's me and Judith Light. I have so much to share about my GLAADapalooza (I LOVE WORKING FOR LOGO SO MUCH!) but you'll have to wait. Because I am drowning. DROWNING. In work.

Don't forget to watch ALL ACCESS: CELEBRITY BEST FRIENDS tonight at 9pm!