December 12, 2002 | 6:36 PM

Jessie just stopped by my apartment with orange juice and focaccia bread. If that isn�t swell I don�t know what is.

Being sick hasn�t been bad as all that.

Last night I got dolled up in my black satin nightgown and watched a double feature of 50�s schmaltz� Imitation of Life and Splendour in the Grass.

Two of my favorite directors�Douglass Sirk (whom John introduced me to) and Elia Kazan (yes I know he named names, but he�s still a fucking genius, OK?)

What I love most about those two movies is they manage to be deeply affecting and at the same time campy as all get out. You just know that both Sirk and Kazan are winking and snickering at the over the top melodrama. But you also know they are daring you to laugh, because there is something fundamentally true and poignant at the core of both films. And as screamingly low-gothic cheese as each film descends, in subtle ways both Imitation of Life and Splendour in the Grass are far beyond their years in terms of the subjects they explore�race and gender relations (Imitation) and teenage female sexuality (Splendour.) It seems as though both Sirk and Kazan knew they wouldn�t get away with exploring such controversial thyemes without encasing their complex ideas in melodrama.

I forgot how much I loved both movies. I have to see that new Todd Haynes movie Far From Heaven. It�s supposed to be an ode to Sirk. Anyone wanna go?

Also, I need to re-watch A Summer Place. That movie is a total hoot.

I know YOU Troy Donahue and I know WHAT yer gonna do!