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My Moby Blog

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I posted this while I was doing my book tour last June.

Today I did a radio tour. I sat in a studio in Times Square and was interviewed by DJs and talk show hosts in radio stations all over the country.

Most of the interviewers were nice. The most interesting question? What’s it like having Dennis Miller mouthing off around the house all the time. I said that I imagined it would be a living hell. Then I said that of course, I could only venture a guess, as I’ve never met Dennis Miller. The poor man had just spent ten minutes thinking he was interviewing Dennis Miller’s wife. He began stammering his apologies and it became clear that he had no idea whose wife it was that he was interviewing and I felt so sorry for him that I ended up repeatedly apologizing to him for not being Dennis Miller’s wife.

When I got home I told Denis – my Denis – Denis Leary about it and he insisted that I have met Dennis Miller and I said that wasn’t Dennis Miller, it was Jay Mohr and Denis became very annoyed because I really never have any idea who anyone is.

Once, I was seated next to Moby at a dinner party. This was years ago and I had spent the summer listening to a Moby CD that Denis had made me, but I had no idea what Moby looked like. So, like I said, at this dinner party, I was seated next to a very sweet, slightly nebbishy-looking guy who seemed a little out of his element. Meg Ryan was there, Jon Stewart, Nora Ephron. I think the party was for Barry Levinson. Anyway, my sweet dinner companion was concerned that there wouldn’t be anything for him to eat as he was a vegan. He was just so quiet and unassuming that I realized he was probably quite overwhelmed by the dazzling luminaries in the room and I decided to take him under my wing. I asked one of the wait staff to prepare him a salad and then I explained to him who all the important people were. At one point I asked him what he did for work. He told me that he was a musician. “How nice,” I said, imagining him in an orchestra pit, his upper lip quivering above a flute, or perhaps on a subway platform strumming on a mandolin. When we left the party, Denis and I shared a ride with Jon Stewart and his wife Tracey.

“What was Moby like,” Tracey asked.

“Moby was there?” I asked, in all my innocence.

Yes, it was Moby whom I had lectured on the ins and outs of fame. And it was Moby whom I had urged to send Denis a “demo CD” of his music, as there was always the chance DENIS MIGHT LIKE IT AND USE IT ON HIS SHOW! Uggggg, I’m blushing bright red just typing this now.

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Thanks

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Just wanted to say thanks to all the well-wishers who posted comments and emailed me privately about tomorrow. Sorry I haven’t been able to respond personally but thank you all for your nice words. xxoo Ann

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Ghost Town

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My sister Meg came to visit this weekend and we decided to see the movie Ghost Town. If you haven’t seen this movie yet, drop everything you’re doing and go see it. Now! Hurry! I’m not just saying this because I’m a longtime Ricky Gervais fan and consider him my new bff (based on one evening at a party where I chatted him up and giggled and snorted and batted my eyelashes and otherwise fawned over him), it’s just one of the most enjoyable “mainstream” films I’ve seen in a long time. Take your kids, take a date. It’s a very sweet romantic comedy that is actually funny.

I’m always trying to turn this blog into a multimedia extravaganza, so I’ve attempted to download the trailer. Not sure if it’ll work.
Okay, it didn’t.

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Taking a Short Leave

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Okay, I haven’t blogged in a few days because I’ve been trying to get organized. I’m having surgery on Monday. I hesitate to tell the world wide web the nature of my surgery, because it’s: a)gynecological, b) an old lady’s operation and c) who cares? But I worry that if I don’t reveal the exact nature of the surgery, people will suspect I’m having a facelift or something. SO I’m having a hysterectomy.
I found this lovely image while doing my endless research on the web. Really, don’t click on this if you’re not into gross stuff. I love gross stuff myself:

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Congratulations! It’s a tumor!

Everyone asks the same questions when you tell them you’re having a hysterectomy so I’ll answer those questions right off the bat. Fibroids, abdominal incision, no driving for three weeks, no tennis for 6-8. Please don’t send me {{{{{{{hugs}}}}}}}}. I’m from New England and that kind of thing creeps me out a little. Just pretend I didn’t tell you.

The reason I decided to announce it is because while I’m in the hospital, I’m going to run some of my favorite old blogs. And I am also going to try to convince my husband to be a “Guest Blogger” for a few days. So, I will miss blogging for a few days but I’m sure I will come away with some amusing stories from the recovery ward. My entire first book, An Innocent, A Broad was set in a hospital so I’m used to writing about all the goings on there.

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Editing Mr. Pendleton

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I have spent the entire day trying to edit my four hours of digital Moses Pendleton into a concise half-hour for my radio show, IN HOUSE.

Why, you might ask, did you interview the man for four hours, when you have a half-hour show? The answer is, because a half hour is just not enough for a man whose kitchen looks like this:
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Whose office looks like this:
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And whose hallway looks like this:
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Moses is a little preoccupied with sunflowers and marigolds and the interview is all about how he is attempting to bring the garden into the theater in his new show, “Botanica.” I have recorded a rehearsal but how do I bring the eroticism and beauty of the musical arrangements and choreography of Moses Pendleton and Cynthia Quinn to radio?

I’ve decided to make it an hour long. There’ll be a part I the first week, followed by Part II the second. The problem is, Moses has a lot of energy. So do I. So does his Jack Russell Terrier, Mojito, who opens and closes all the doors to the house with his paws. The three of us just got ourselves whipped into a frenzy of excitement during our conversation and often veered way off-topic, and eventually I would have to suggest we take a moment and collect ourselves, and he would respond like this:

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Anyway, it won’t be this Saturday’s show, but will most likely be on next Saturday. So stay tuned. This Saturday will be a surprise (to you and me).

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Herself, the elf

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Just found this Coco photo in my iphotos. I guess I was messing around with photoshop one day and did this to her:
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Home

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We’re back in Connecticut now, thank GOD! One more day of sunshine and glamour might have done me in. Thanks to those who commented on my previous blog about my embarrassing TMZ tumble, especially the comment from Jocelyn who said that I handled my fall onto the sidewalk like a pro. Unfortunately, being a lifelong spaz, I am a pro!

I can’t believe that my beloved sister in law, Ann-Marie as well as Jill from Minnesota also did body slams in front of an audience this weekend. Sorry Ann, but the image of you sliding across the floor on a chicken piccatta slick had me howling with laughter.

It’s a beautiful, beautiful fall New England day and I couldn’t be happier to be home with my girl and dogs and horses. And, of course, our elf:
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A Night at the Emmy Awards

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Okay, I don’t know how to download the video so you can watch it, but here’s a still of me seated in the gutter outside the FX Emmy after party last night, ala Lindsay Lohan. And I don’t even drink. I really don’t get out much clearly. Heels, long dress, curb, paparazzi are too much for me to deal with at one time. SO embarrassing. Anyway, that’s how my night ended.

Here’s how it began: We got all dressed up and the makeup artist took this photo. Within an hour all that makeup would be dripping down my face in rivulets of sweat.
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When you arrive at these awards shows, the traffic is bumper to bumper. You sit in your car and say,” Hey, there’s so and so in the next car,” and you worry about your liipstick and gobble mints and argue about what music should be playing on the radio.
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When you get out of the car, you must go through security:
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And then you’re on the red carpet, which is a little bit crowded:
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There are bleachers filled with photographers on both sides of the red carpet:
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They took photos of us:
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The producers of various shows like E and entertainment Tonight ask you to wait in line to be interviewed. We seemed to be following the Colberts. Then we met up with Samantha Bee, Jason Jones and Rob Riggle from the Daily Show. I’m a HUGE fan of Samantha Bee and had never met her in person, and she was just as funny as you’d imagine she’d be.
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I’m not going to show you any photos of the inside of the theater because you probably had the misfortune of watching it on TV. Was the show as unfunny at home as it was live? Denis didn’t win, but RECOUNT got two Emmys, which was great.

Afterward, we went to the Governor’s Ball and the HBO party and hung out with Laura Dern and Kevin Spacey. Then we decided to stop in at the FX party, which is where I decided to pitch myself at the feet of the TMZ guys. Once we got inside though, it was nice. We hung out with Rescue Me Executive Producer (and Denis’s business partner) Jim Serpico and his wife Sherry:
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And we chatted with Glenn Close, who just gets more gorgeous every year.

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Emmy Day

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It’s 9:30 on the morning of the Emmy Awards, and already the day has been a huge success. First, it’s overcast. Honestly, that clear, sunny sky grinning maniacally at you each morning gets a little tiresome. I’m a New Englander and need a little gloom to make me feel great. I felt so great that I managed to beat Denis at tennis, something I rarely am able to do any more. I didn’t just beat him. I squashed him.

Then we rode our bikes to Venice and back. Denis likes to ride fast, seeing everything as a potential cardio workout, but I can’t because I love watching the people so much. Surfers, bikers, skaters, babies in jogging strollers, homeless people engaged in their morning grooming rituals (I’ve never seen more jovial and happy-looking homeless people in my life) dogs of all shapes and sizes, surfers young and old. I saw a man in a wet suit carrying a surfboard who looked like he was pushing 90. Denis stared wistfully at a street hockey game that was starting up.

Then we came back to the hotel and gossiped about the people at last night’s party. One very famous TV actor and his wife snuck off with Denis to smoke in a dark corner. The wife kept looking furtively over her shoulder between drags on her cigarette. She told her famous husband to lower his cigarette at one point. I asked her why and she said, “our son’s in kindergarten now, and there are … other mothers here … if they ever saw us smoking…” she became so overwrought with anxiety that she snubbed out her cigarette and hastily stuffed her mouth with gum.

Later, as we were waiting for our car, Camryn Manheim (sp?) said to us, “I’m so embarrassed for the people who have those big SUV’s picking them up. I have a Prius.” I said, “I know, you’d think that with everything that’s going on in the world, people would be a little more sensitive about the environment …” and just then our tank pulled up. Cadillac sponsors Rescue Me and had provided us with a GIANT black Lincoln Navigator. Thank God we had Camryn Manheim to be embarrassed for us. It’s hard having all that shame to yourself.

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A Fun Party

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To all who have emailed me since our arrival in LA: for some reason, I can receive emails, but cannot send them. My computer tells me it has something to do with the server. So don’t think I’m a jerk. I did write my replies, they’re just stacking up in my outbox and will presumably be sent all at once, when I get home.

Last night we attended the 2nd Annual Dreamworks “Night Before the Emmys” party. This is a really fun party that Denis co-hosts with Jeffrey Katzenberg and some others. Let’s see, who was there? Glenn Close, Tom Hanks, Rita Wilson, Kevin Bacon, Kyra Sedgewick, Ellen Pompeo, Debra Messing, Julia Louise Dreyfuss. Many others. We spent most of the evening hanging with Jeff Garlin, Kevin Spacey, Ricky Gervais and Steve Merchant. Rick and Steve are the creators of The Office and they are just hysterically funny. We laughed until we cried, Denis and I both.

There were these huge, sumptuous looking buffets, Wolfgang Puck was the chef, but I was very good and just drank tons of water, due to an intestinal situation, and am all better today. We’re going to try to play some tennis before we get ready for the Emmys. Oh, and the construction is over, so I don’t have to traipse through the kitchen in my gown!

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