OMFG I am so bored today, guys. And it’s not even noon. I’ve been trying to look busy, which involves much bloggery. However, being tired slows down my capacity for original thought, which makes successful bloggery difficult. Anyway, my weekend was pretty low-key. I’ve become a Harlem recluse, staying home most nights and keeping it incognegro with television. It helps that madukes and her Latin lover are in Uruguay, because now I can stay home without the threat of black mama drama.
Twilight was on Showtime this weekend, and they made a really big deal out of it. Like, way too big a deal out of it. There were all these interviews and teasers and it's like, Showtime, this movie has been out for a year. Chillax.
I was uncomfortable.
It reminded me of the morning when I passed three middle-aged female members of Caucasia, all wearing the same powder-blue t-shirt underneath windbreakers. Of course, I assumed they were members of a church group or attendees of a scrap-booking convention (I often stereotype before I’ve had my morning caffeine). For some reason, I decided to focus my eyes on their Ts, and was shocked to see the following text:
THE NEW MOON EXPERIENCE
NEW YORK CITY
NOVEMBER 19, 2009
TwilightMoms!!! AAAHHH!!! I thought my viewing of Twilight at 10:30am by myself in Sydney, Australia, was tragic, but this was a whole new level. I mean, I really hope they were moms just chaperoning their kids, but I saw no kids, so I can't make that assumption. And that worries me.
And it also inspires.
I can think of no better way to deal with my boredom than with another installment of DUSK. For those of you out of the fruit loop, here are our previous chapters:
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Beaut made it into English class just as the second bell rang. She took her usual seat by the window next to Rachel, and they shared a smile. Rachel was a terrible gossip, but it was worse to get on her bad side, and Beaut couldn’t help but be grateful for her kindness during her first weeks at Spoons High. They were reading Jane Eyre, which Beaut had already read 100 times before, so she quickly zoned out. Her thoughts immediately floated to Gregory, and that time they went to Anchorage for the night. She rode on his back all the way there, and they had an amazing dinner at a seafood restaurant. Well, Gregory just watched her eat, as usual. She remembered how sexy it was when he cracked the crab shell with his bare hands, how patient he was when she chewed. On their way back home they stopped in an Eskimo village, where Edward had some vampire friends (the darkness in the area most of the year enabled them to blend in effortlessly). As she clutched his back on the way home, she knew what she wanted forever to feel like….
Just then, Beaut was snapped out of her daydream by a tapping sound on the window. She looked up and saw Noah standing there with a wide grin on his face. His perfect white teeth gleamed even brighter against his mahogany skin. No, it was caramel. No, it was like mahogany that someone spilled hot caramel on and then licked off sensuously. Yep, that was it.
Noah motioned for her to come outside. Rachel looked at her suspiciously, but Beaut didn’t meet her stare. She knew that no matter what she said, Rachel would tell anyone who would listen that she’d gone off with Noah. She just gathered her bag and raised her hand.
“Yes, Beaut?” Mr. Perry looked almost excited when he called on her. Beaut so rarely spoke in class that it was a treat to know she was even alive, let alone engaged.
“I’m not feeling so well,” she mumbled, trying to sound weak – which wasn’t hard, because she was very delicate, pale, and whiney. “Can I go to the nurse’s office?”
“Sure,” Mr. Perry sighed, disappointed. “Do you need someone to escort you?”
Matt Simpson’s hand immediately went up. He’d had a crush on Beaut since her first day, but they were just friends.
“No, I can make it. Thanks.” Beaut quickly ducked out before Mr. Perry could ask anymore questions.
She raced out of the building and saw Noah on his motorcycle. His long Native American hair glistened in the sunlight. He revved the bike’s engine and Beaut felt a tingling sensation….down there.
She shook it off—they were just friends. Besides, he was ethnic—Gregory may have been undead and feasted on human blood, but they made way more sense together.
Beaut immediately hopped on the back of the bike and wrapped her arms around Noah chest as they sped off the campus grounds.
“You’re solid as Barack,” Beaut said, nestling her head into his back.
“I’ve been doing core work,” Noah replied. “Let’s go to The Thrust—I want to show you something.”
The Thrust was the reservation where Noah and the other natives lived. Beaut loved to go there because it was sort of dangerous, but also felt like home. She and Noah would sit by the roaring waves on the rocky shore and just hang out, talk, and occasionally touch each other suggestively. This time was no different, as they sat down close to each other and Noah put his arm around her, trying to get some side-boob action.
“Beaut, I have something to tell you,” Noah said after a few minutes of silence.
“What is it?” Beaut said, trying to be calm. She really hoped he wouldn’t reveal his feelings for her, because their entire friendship rested on Beaut being selfishly oblivious to his emotions.
“Remember that time I told you that story about this guy I know who’s a werewolf?”
“Yeah, your friend Toah?”
“Yeah, well, um, by ‘Toah’ I meant me. Noah.”
Beaut was stunned. How could she have not seen this coming? Noah’s flowing locks, his ripped abs, and not to mention the fact that he sported a partial erection at all times and was a minority – of course he was part animal.
“Say something,” Noah said, softly.
Beaut must have been silent for longer than she realized. She suddenly looked at Noah, as if for the first time really seeing him.
And she wasn’t afraid.
Actually, she was kind of turned on.
Oh my god, what's going to happen next???? Beaut is torn between two men, both mythical and freakishly strong!!! THIS IS SO EXCITING.
Is it lunchtime yet?
Monday, January 25, 2010
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Character Study
Ok, guys, first off I have to tell you that I’ve been working on this post for an hour--well, not exactly writing it, but writing it slowly and covertly to avoid the judgment of my colleagues. One of my coworkers just left for a press event, so now I feel free to continue writing.
No, this person is not my boss. In fact, he is younger than me, and took my old job when I went off to Oz. However, he is really hardcore and intense, and has, like, a work ethic or something—and, instead of inspiring me to work, his focus and care for the job just makes me feel bad.
Anyway, whatever. Guilt is a useless emotion. Back to blogging!
So, I haven’t slept through the night in over two weeks, but I’m kinda amped today (and no, I haven’t had Starbucks…yet). It’s because tonight I have the first of a two-session character workshop at UCB with…. JEFF HILLER.
I think you all know how I feel about this tall glass of milk (my review of his hit musical Bernice Bobs Her Mullet says it all).
He is my gay icon.
We met a couple years ago at a friend’s Halloween party, which was beyond exciting, as I’d loved his improvisational comedy stylings from afar for a couple of years. Turns out that gay icons are just like us! Jeff’s really nice and always keeps a blacktress in mind, even nominating me for a diversity scholarship at Upright Citizens Brigade Theater – holla at my reparations!
I think if they brought back slavery, I could count on Jeff to buy my freedom.
Since our meeting in ’07, we’ve done Gayest Week Ever together, and discovered that we HAVE THE SAME BIRTHDAY.
Um, hello FATE, it’s me, Blacktress!
I even attended his birthday party this year, which means we’re officially best friends!
(I think. He won’t give me his phone number, or hang out with me one-on-one, but I still like to think we’re close.)
Anyway, I’m pretty amped to do a little BLACting tonight and focus on character work. I tend to mostly play myself in improvised scenes because when forced to think on the spot, I only come up with Me, Me, Me.
My favorite joke pre-improv show is to go around to the other performers and say, “so, I was reading the script, and I think you should really shout at me during your big monologue on page three...”
Get it? I’m implying that it’s not at all improvised, but that we’re doing a scripted production.
Ha.
Anyways, my desire to control the world around me in an attempt to make its citizens bend to my will means that I’m going to jot down a list of characters I’d like to try out – and will force into any scene I’m in whether or not it makes sense.
What do you think of these, gang?
Rhonda A one-armed hooker with a heart of gold who has a severe gluten allergy, but just wants to open her own bakery.
Craig An anemic homosexual teen vampire who loves show tunes. He plans to spend the rest of eternity recreating popular music videos on YouTube. You know, like "He-Wolf."*
Gruff Townsend A gritty, hard-boiled detective on the hunt for an Arby’s in New York City. Just, you know, any Arby’s.
Mellie A southern teenage mother, inspired by every character on ’16 and Pregnant.’
If one of these isn’t comedic gold, then I don’t know what I’ve got left.
Leave any suggestions you may have. If you play your cards right, I can even record it and put it up next week!
*Also, if you love teen gay boys' recreation of music videos as much as I do, here's He Wolf. All I can say is, Shakira better watch her back.
No, this person is not my boss. In fact, he is younger than me, and took my old job when I went off to Oz. However, he is really hardcore and intense, and has, like, a work ethic or something—and, instead of inspiring me to work, his focus and care for the job just makes me feel bad.
Anyway, whatever. Guilt is a useless emotion. Back to blogging!
So, I haven’t slept through the night in over two weeks, but I’m kinda amped today (and no, I haven’t had Starbucks…yet). It’s because tonight I have the first of a two-session character workshop at UCB with…. JEFF HILLER.
I think you all know how I feel about this tall glass of milk (my review of his hit musical Bernice Bobs Her Mullet says it all).
He is my gay icon.
We met a couple years ago at a friend’s Halloween party, which was beyond exciting, as I’d loved his improvisational comedy stylings from afar for a couple of years. Turns out that gay icons are just like us! Jeff’s really nice and always keeps a blacktress in mind, even nominating me for a diversity scholarship at Upright Citizens Brigade Theater – holla at my reparations!
I think if they brought back slavery, I could count on Jeff to buy my freedom.
Since our meeting in ’07, we’ve done Gayest Week Ever together, and discovered that we HAVE THE SAME BIRTHDAY.
Um, hello FATE, it’s me, Blacktress!
I even attended his birthday party this year, which means we’re officially best friends!
(I think. He won’t give me his phone number, or hang out with me one-on-one, but I still like to think we’re close.)
Anyway, I’m pretty amped to do a little BLACting tonight and focus on character work. I tend to mostly play myself in improvised scenes because when forced to think on the spot, I only come up with Me, Me, Me.
My favorite joke pre-improv show is to go around to the other performers and say, “so, I was reading the script, and I think you should really shout at me during your big monologue on page three...”
Get it? I’m implying that it’s not at all improvised, but that we’re doing a scripted production.
Ha.
Anyways, my desire to control the world around me in an attempt to make its citizens bend to my will means that I’m going to jot down a list of characters I’d like to try out – and will force into any scene I’m in whether or not it makes sense.
What do you think of these, gang?
Rhonda A one-armed hooker with a heart of gold who has a severe gluten allergy, but just wants to open her own bakery.
Craig An anemic homosexual teen vampire who loves show tunes. He plans to spend the rest of eternity recreating popular music videos on YouTube. You know, like "He-Wolf."*
Gruff Townsend A gritty, hard-boiled detective on the hunt for an Arby’s in New York City. Just, you know, any Arby’s.
Mellie A southern teenage mother, inspired by every character on ’16 and Pregnant.’
If one of these isn’t comedic gold, then I don’t know what I’ve got left.
Leave any suggestions you may have. If you play your cards right, I can even record it and put it up next week!
*Also, if you love teen gay boys' recreation of music videos as much as I do, here's He Wolf. All I can say is, Shakira better watch her back.
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Teen Mom's MOM in Jail!
Hahhaa. Someone clicked my last blog post as being "not funny." Listen, I never said it was all gonna be perfect, folks.
Anyway, I'm trying to get over my writer's block.
Okay, guys, I know I was supposed to be watching and live-blogging “Teen Mom.” The thing is, I got about halfway through an episode and got more depressed than during any episode of 16 and Preggers - I believe this is because now there are actual infants being raised in these households, and the dysfunction is just really really sad and the danger is evident.
Things I did manage to jot down during my first ½ hour of viewing:
- is it just me, or does farrah look like a lost kardashian sister?
- who is maci's random-ass black friend who they don't let speak?
- amber looks exactly like miss piggy. i do not mean this because she's overweight - her actual FACE looks like miss piggy. like, if she had that face on a thinner frame, she'd still be miss piggy to me.
- amber's parenting is amazing. she says to the baby, "the reason you're crying is because you're tired."
no, amber, you can't use logic on an infant.
- Tyler is the only man i'll ever love.
(is it weird that I’m using two 17 years olds who gave their unplanned baby up for adoption as my model for a healthy relationship?_
So, I’ve been catching bits and pieces of episodes where I can, and I really can’t handle Farrah (the lost Kardashian). She is soooo mean and rude to her mom and stepdad, and is constantly leaving her baby at home so she can go find a man. While I’d be pretty excited if I had no baby weight, either, the fact is, you can’t be holding a baby on your lap while you’re texting to a man named Shaq! Farrah, get it together, you don’t even have your Good Enough Diploma (GED)!
She’s cursing out her parents left and right, so it shouldn’t come as a surprise to me to get the following newsbrief:
TEEN MOM ALLGEDLY CHOKED BY HER MOTHER
Farrah’s mother apparently couldn’t handle it anymore. Considering her mom hit her in the face on her episode of “16 and Pregnant,” I wouldn’t it put it past mom to choke a child. This is so out of control, y’all!!
(Also, is it just me, or does Farrah’s mom look like a cracked out Blythe Danner?)
For serious.
Anyway, this series is getting out of control! Also, I’m quite sad to see that Ebony isn’t on the series (love that the black girl’s name is EBONY. Perhaps I should change my name to NUBIA). Maybe this means she’s actually raising her child and not engaging in insanity. One can only hope!
Anyway, I'm trying to get over my writer's block.
Okay, guys, I know I was supposed to be watching and live-blogging “Teen Mom.” The thing is, I got about halfway through an episode and got more depressed than during any episode of 16 and Preggers - I believe this is because now there are actual infants being raised in these households, and the dysfunction is just really really sad and the danger is evident.
Things I did manage to jot down during my first ½ hour of viewing:
- is it just me, or does farrah look like a lost kardashian sister?
- who is maci's random-ass black friend who they don't let speak?
- amber looks exactly like miss piggy. i do not mean this because she's overweight - her actual FACE looks like miss piggy. like, if she had that face on a thinner frame, she'd still be miss piggy to me.
- amber's parenting is amazing. she says to the baby, "the reason you're crying is because you're tired."
no, amber, you can't use logic on an infant.
- Tyler is the only man i'll ever love.
(is it weird that I’m using two 17 years olds who gave their unplanned baby up for adoption as my model for a healthy relationship?_
So, I’ve been catching bits and pieces of episodes where I can, and I really can’t handle Farrah (the lost Kardashian). She is soooo mean and rude to her mom and stepdad, and is constantly leaving her baby at home so she can go find a man. While I’d be pretty excited if I had no baby weight, either, the fact is, you can’t be holding a baby on your lap while you’re texting to a man named Shaq! Farrah, get it together, you don’t even have your Good Enough Diploma (GED)!
She’s cursing out her parents left and right, so it shouldn’t come as a surprise to me to get the following newsbrief:
TEEN MOM ALLGEDLY CHOKED BY HER MOTHER
Farrah’s mother apparently couldn’t handle it anymore. Considering her mom hit her in the face on her episode of “16 and Pregnant,” I wouldn’t it put it past mom to choke a child. This is so out of control, y’all!!
(Also, is it just me, or does Farrah’s mom look like a cracked out Blythe Danner?)
(Gwyneth Paltrow's mom)
(Farrah's mom)
For serious.
Anyway, this series is getting out of control! Also, I’m quite sad to see that Ebony isn’t on the series (love that the black girl’s name is EBONY. Perhaps I should change my name to NUBIA). Maybe this means she’s actually raising her child and not engaging in insanity. One can only hope!
Thursday, January 14, 2010
Move Over Patsy Cline - I'm the one who's CRAZY
I'm sitting at my desk right now, muttering to myself like a schizophrenic. I believe my exact words were, "Okay, okay, come on, come on." I have this article to write - in fact, I've had it to write for over a month now - and I've got all of 3 measley paragraphs.
It's a balmy 45 degrees (Farenheit), so I'm wearing a thin cable knit sweater, and figured I'd cas it up with jeans - after all, I do work at a magazine. I'm hip, I'm with it.
Turns out the big boss from Colorado (aka, the overseer), who laid off about 50 people yesterday, is coming in today with his right-hand woman. This is probably the wrong time to be dressed down. And I'm over here with an article unwritten. I'm gonna totally get fired for wearing jeans, aren't I?
I'm seriously cracked out. Take, for instance, an excerpt from this morning's first gchat with Jaime (yeah, okay, it's only 9:30 and I'm already procrastinating. what of it?):
me: what is this show?!
my crush greg or my (not) crush tim?
Jaime: no, Brandon Gates
duh
me: SO MANY CRUSHES
WHO IS THAT PERSON?
BRANDON GATES
ALL CAPS
me: ALL CAPS ALL THE TIME
INTENSITY
What the hell is wrong with me? Who are these crushes? Why am I dressed like I'm hitting the streets when the overseer is due in any second? Why on earth would I blog on the plantation at such a delicate time? I'm a hot ass mess today.
It's a balmy 45 degrees (Farenheit), so I'm wearing a thin cable knit sweater, and figured I'd cas it up with jeans - after all, I do work at a magazine. I'm hip, I'm with it.
Turns out the big boss from Colorado (aka, the overseer), who laid off about 50 people yesterday, is coming in today with his right-hand woman. This is probably the wrong time to be dressed down. And I'm over here with an article unwritten. I'm gonna totally get fired for wearing jeans, aren't I?
I'm seriously cracked out. Take, for instance, an excerpt from this morning's first gchat with Jaime (yeah, okay, it's only 9:30 and I'm already procrastinating. what of it?):
me: what is this show?!
my crush greg or my (not) crush tim?
Jaime: no, Brandon Gates
duh
me: SO MANY CRUSHES
WHO IS THAT PERSON?
BRANDON GATES
ALL CAPS
me: ALL CAPS ALL THE TIME
INTENSITY
What the hell is wrong with me? Who are these crushes? Why am I dressed like I'm hitting the streets when the overseer is due in any second? Why on earth would I blog on the plantation at such a delicate time? I'm a hot ass mess today.
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
I Should Have Never Ordered a Venti
I’m not really a coffee drinker. As you can probably tell from this blog, I’m naturally a bit of a spazz and my brain tends to move 60 miles a minute. However, on particularly sluggish days, a nip of caffeine is in order, and for some reason, this morning I awoke with a single-minded craving that was quite uncharacteristic. I left the house early and ventured to the Starbucks nearest to my office. I found myself fidgeting as I waited in line, like a crack addict. I heard the guy in front of me order ‘a grande coffee,’ and not being a Starbucks regular, I repeated his order, saying ‘large’ instead of grande. It’s the same thing, right?
NO.
I was given 20 ounces of caffeine, to which I added approximately skim milk, a sprinkle of cocoa, and 6 splenda. I sipped my sweet delight for about an hour, even reheating it when it got grossly cold. My experience is evident in the following gchat with Kwalsh
9:19am
[new status message: coffee is life]
me: holy shit, coffee is great
i feel this urge and energy to be productive
KWalsh: haha
welcome to the dark side!
11:09 am
me: ok, now it's cold
i need to stop drinking it
[new status message: coffee is death.]
11:25am
me: oh god, i think my heart's going to explode
me: my hands are shaking
i'm drinking water, in an attempt to dilute the potency
[Note that Kwalsh has not responded, and yet I’m still typing]
Kwalsh: oh jesus
how much did you drink?
me: i had a venti
walsh, i shouldn't have had a venti
Kwalsh: oh lord. switch to grande next time
Clearly, I don’t know what I’m doing. I went from a surge of productivity to a certainty that we're in the movie “2012,” and it's all gonna come crashing down. I’ve just chugged two glasses of water, as inspired by the Walsh family motto: “The solution to pollution is dilution.”
Of course, I will have coffee tomorrow morning, because I have an addictive personality and love a rush.
NO.
I was given 20 ounces of caffeine, to which I added approximately skim milk, a sprinkle of cocoa, and 6 splenda. I sipped my sweet delight for about an hour, even reheating it when it got grossly cold. My experience is evident in the following gchat with Kwalsh
9:19am
[new status message: coffee is life]
me: holy shit, coffee is great
i feel this urge and energy to be productive
KWalsh: haha
welcome to the dark side!
11:09 am
me: ok, now it's cold
i need to stop drinking it
[new status message: coffee is death.]
11:25am
me: oh god, i think my heart's going to explode
me: my hands are shaking
i'm drinking water, in an attempt to dilute the potency
[Note that Kwalsh has not responded, and yet I’m still typing]
Kwalsh: oh jesus
how much did you drink?
me: i had a venti
walsh, i shouldn't have had a venti
Kwalsh: oh lord. switch to grande next time
Clearly, I don’t know what I’m doing. I went from a surge of productivity to a certainty that we're in the movie “2012,” and it's all gonna come crashing down. I’ve just chugged two glasses of water, as inspired by the Walsh family motto: “The solution to pollution is dilution.”
Of course, I will have coffee tomorrow morning, because I have an addictive personality and love a rush.
Monday, January 4, 2010
First Post of 2010!
Happy 2010 guys! I’ve really missed you; I haven’t blogged in a decade! 2009 was a wild ride from one hemisphere to the other – but let’s never speak of it again. I haven’t been on the plantation in over a week, but was quite pleased to arrive and find that our internet is down – there’s only so much work I can pretend to do when I can’t even check my outlook. Anywho—let’s get up to speed by writing a post in a word document.
Since last I blogged, things have been mostly copacetic. Christmas was spent seated in a recliner wearing an electric blanket (my one and only present from Santa) and watching “Taken,” starring Liam Neeson. I love action films, and came away with one vital piece of information: I have a deep-seated desire for Liam Neeson to be my real-life dad. Well, that, and never give a random TMI, or you’ll end up sex-trafficked, on a boat bound for the United Arab Emirates.
After Christmas, blacktress headed into the flurry of excitement that is the 7 days of Kwanzaa – which, as you all know, is Swahili for “After-Christmas sales.” Mother and I celebrated right, getting 40% off items at Banana Republic.
(I’m sorry, is it just me, or is any holiday invented by a dude named Ron in 1966 somewhat suspect? I just don’t know if I buy it. Plus, doesn’t “kinara” – in which the kwanzaa candles are held – sound a lot like ‘menorah’ + ‘kwanzaa’? You can’t call it your own and jack it from the Jews, people!)
I was thrown for a loop when, on 12/30, I received a facebook invite from the college bf to whom I lost my virginity. He’s still in purgatory, mostly because I don’t know how to handle this. While he’s a swell fella who I have no drama with (I know, a huge surprise!), I don’t know if he needs access to my f-book. I live my life by a few simple rules, one of which is: You can’t poke me on facebook after you’ve poked me in real life. Call me old fashioned, but it’s just how I roll.
I rang in 2010 with an uneventful mini-makeout session, only made more uneventful by the dude’s lack of follow-through. However, my most recent redheaded crush has lifted, as he had the gall – nay, the audacity - not to speak to a blacktress when she was looking hella good (you know, like the Gwen Stefani song). I realized that an imaginary relationship can only last so long if one party refuses to engage in conversation. I’m not cultivating crazy in 2010 – save the drama for Obama!
I was able to engage in many TV marathons, including Discovery Health’s “fat marathon” – the hour-long specials “I Eat 33,000 calories a day,” “Half-Ton Teen,” “Half-Ton Mom,” and “Half-Ton Dad” (not all in the same family), and my personal favorite, “The 650-lb Virgin,” – all of which I watched while eating pizza and cake. Ironic? Let’s ask Alanis Morissette.
[Sidebar: My office is freakishly quiet. What could these people be doing when we don’t even have access to the server? Clearly I have no work ethic]
Oh, guys, I just got the latest e-newsletter of New Voices Magazine – “THE magazine for Jewish students.”
Today’s message includes:
Don't you love the Holocaust?
Your movie theater does. Marked as "Oscar bait" whenever they come out, movies about the Final Solution have multiplied since Jerry Seinfeld made out during "Schindler's List" 17 years ago. Now Quentin Tarantino has decided to do the Jewish film execs one better, producing a spaghetti western starring the Juden. Miriam Mogilevsky takes a closer look.
But why worry about the Holocaust when Israel is on the eve of destruction? Sam Green reviews Rich Cohen's "Israel Is Real."
Don't let that get you down, though, because H&M is moving to Israel, says Beth Zalcman, and Americans should too.
Jewish media. No conspiracy.
THE site for Jewish college students.
Enjoy!
I don’t know why I get this magazine, or how I get on an email list in the first place. Is this some remnant of my relationship with the Israeli vegan investment banker? Did some audience member recall a bit in which I said “I can’t pass over those matzoh balls” and sign me up? Who knows. All I know is, I can’t put it down!!
Okay, it’s now 12:09pm and we’re finally back online. Time to earn my keep!
Since last I blogged, things have been mostly copacetic. Christmas was spent seated in a recliner wearing an electric blanket (my one and only present from Santa) and watching “Taken,” starring Liam Neeson. I love action films, and came away with one vital piece of information: I have a deep-seated desire for Liam Neeson to be my real-life dad. Well, that, and never give a random TMI, or you’ll end up sex-trafficked, on a boat bound for the United Arab Emirates.
After Christmas, blacktress headed into the flurry of excitement that is the 7 days of Kwanzaa – which, as you all know, is Swahili for “After-Christmas sales.” Mother and I celebrated right, getting 40% off items at Banana Republic.
(I’m sorry, is it just me, or is any holiday invented by a dude named Ron in 1966 somewhat suspect? I just don’t know if I buy it. Plus, doesn’t “kinara” – in which the kwanzaa candles are held – sound a lot like ‘menorah’ + ‘kwanzaa’? You can’t call it your own and jack it from the Jews, people!)
I was thrown for a loop when, on 12/30, I received a facebook invite from the college bf to whom I lost my virginity. He’s still in purgatory, mostly because I don’t know how to handle this. While he’s a swell fella who I have no drama with (I know, a huge surprise!), I don’t know if he needs access to my f-book. I live my life by a few simple rules, one of which is: You can’t poke me on facebook after you’ve poked me in real life. Call me old fashioned, but it’s just how I roll.
I rang in 2010 with an uneventful mini-makeout session, only made more uneventful by the dude’s lack of follow-through. However, my most recent redheaded crush has lifted, as he had the gall – nay, the audacity - not to speak to a blacktress when she was looking hella good (you know, like the Gwen Stefani song). I realized that an imaginary relationship can only last so long if one party refuses to engage in conversation. I’m not cultivating crazy in 2010 – save the drama for Obama!
I was able to engage in many TV marathons, including Discovery Health’s “fat marathon” – the hour-long specials “I Eat 33,000 calories a day,” “Half-Ton Teen,” “Half-Ton Mom,” and “Half-Ton Dad” (not all in the same family), and my personal favorite, “The 650-lb Virgin,” – all of which I watched while eating pizza and cake. Ironic? Let’s ask Alanis Morissette.
[Sidebar: My office is freakishly quiet. What could these people be doing when we don’t even have access to the server? Clearly I have no work ethic]
Oh, guys, I just got the latest e-newsletter of New Voices Magazine – “THE magazine for Jewish students.”
Today’s message includes:
Don't you love the Holocaust?
Your movie theater does. Marked as "Oscar bait" whenever they come out, movies about the Final Solution have multiplied since Jerry Seinfeld made out during "Schindler's List" 17 years ago. Now Quentin Tarantino has decided to do the Jewish film execs one better, producing a spaghetti western starring the Juden. Miriam Mogilevsky takes a closer look.
But why worry about the Holocaust when Israel is on the eve of destruction? Sam Green reviews Rich Cohen's "Israel Is Real."
Don't let that get you down, though, because H&M is moving to Israel, says Beth Zalcman, and Americans should too.
Jewish media. No conspiracy.
THE site for Jewish college students.
Enjoy!
I don’t know why I get this magazine, or how I get on an email list in the first place. Is this some remnant of my relationship with the Israeli vegan investment banker? Did some audience member recall a bit in which I said “I can’t pass over those matzoh balls” and sign me up? Who knows. All I know is, I can’t put it down!!
Okay, it’s now 12:09pm and we’re finally back online. Time to earn my keep!
Monday, December 21, 2009
A Weekend to Remember - RIP Brittany!
I lost my cell phone this weekend and was freaking the F out. Somehow, between texting and making a call at 11:12am on Saturday morning, and getting on the train at 11:32am, I lost my damn phone. Around 5pm, a blizzard began as I headed to Queens to babysit. After tending to two young Caucasian males (I believe in starting the brainwashing early), I headed over to a friend’s house in the treacherous weather. As I walked in the Big Apple-turned-life-sized-snowglobe, I was tense and anxious. I felt like, without my cell, I was a walking target. I just knew that Saturday night would be the night I was stalked by a serial rapist, simply because I had no ability to call for help. I was acting like, prior to this moment, I had been living in a T-Mobile-created protective force field, and the only thing between me and survival was 2 bars.
Just when I thought the weekend could get no crazier, as I was perpetually late for things on Sunday, and slipping on black ice, I was informed of the death of Brittany Murphy Sunday evening. I am still reeling. This is just one more icon of our youth who has left us. At only 32, death from a heart attack seems completely insane in the membrane. Alas, the heart attack was the result of severe anorexia. Remember in Girl, Interrupted when she kept all the chicken under her bed???? WHY DIDN’T YOU EAT THAT CHICKEN, BRITTANY?!
Can we just talk about Brittany’s effect on every 20-something walking around today? When she appeared as Tai in Clueless, the newbie through which we viewed the world of California rich kids Cher and Dionne, she was instantly likeable. Her makeover – complete with baby tee and corduroy skirt – was the jam and the jumpoff (and the inspiration for much of my 6th grade wardrobe). And let’s not mention her lines, some of which were the greatest in film history:
- “Cher, I don't want to do this anymore. And my buns: they don't feel nothin' like steel.”
- "You know, I don't care either way — just as long as his you-know-what isn't crooked." – When the film came out, I was too young to know that this was a very real possibility, and I’m now too old not to know exactly where she’s coming from.
- “If I’m too good for him, then why aren’t I with him???” This is a line I’ve used many a-time in my personal life. Oh, Britt, you were forever asking the hard-hitting questions.
And, of course, the best ever: “You’re a virgin who can’t drive.”
Burn of the THIRD DEGREE.
After Clueless, she went on to lock it down in various films, with her wide eyes and Betty Boop vibe. I must say, I even loved her in 8 Mile.
I’m gonna have to pour a bit of my cranberry juice on the ground in remembrance tonight – or, wait, maybe I should put down some food, give Brittany a little nourishment.
Dear Britt,
I hope you are ROLLING WITH YOUR HOMIES in the sky, and know that I’ll be thinking of you – I HOPE NOT SPORADICALLY! The way you sang the Mentos theme song changed my life. When I was younger, I totally wished someone would have taken me out of my flannel and put me in some cute outfits while Jill Sobule played in the background. You are one of my idols. I will eat twice as much for you today.
Xoxo,
Sojo
Let’s check out Brittany at her best:
Just when I thought the weekend could get no crazier, as I was perpetually late for things on Sunday, and slipping on black ice, I was informed of the death of Brittany Murphy Sunday evening. I am still reeling. This is just one more icon of our youth who has left us. At only 32, death from a heart attack seems completely insane in the membrane. Alas, the heart attack was the result of severe anorexia. Remember in Girl, Interrupted when she kept all the chicken under her bed???? WHY DIDN’T YOU EAT THAT CHICKEN, BRITTANY?!
Can we just talk about Brittany’s effect on every 20-something walking around today? When she appeared as Tai in Clueless, the newbie through which we viewed the world of California rich kids Cher and Dionne, she was instantly likeable. Her makeover – complete with baby tee and corduroy skirt – was the jam and the jumpoff (and the inspiration for much of my 6th grade wardrobe). And let’s not mention her lines, some of which were the greatest in film history:
- “Cher, I don't want to do this anymore. And my buns: they don't feel nothin' like steel.”
- "You know, I don't care either way — just as long as his you-know-what isn't crooked." – When the film came out, I was too young to know that this was a very real possibility, and I’m now too old not to know exactly where she’s coming from.
- “If I’m too good for him, then why aren’t I with him???” This is a line I’ve used many a-time in my personal life. Oh, Britt, you were forever asking the hard-hitting questions.
And, of course, the best ever: “You’re a virgin who can’t drive.”
Burn of the THIRD DEGREE.
After Clueless, she went on to lock it down in various films, with her wide eyes and Betty Boop vibe. I must say, I even loved her in 8 Mile.
I’m gonna have to pour a bit of my cranberry juice on the ground in remembrance tonight – or, wait, maybe I should put down some food, give Brittany a little nourishment.
Dear Britt,
I hope you are ROLLING WITH YOUR HOMIES in the sky, and know that I’ll be thinking of you – I HOPE NOT SPORADICALLY! The way you sang the Mentos theme song changed my life. When I was younger, I totally wished someone would have taken me out of my flannel and put me in some cute outfits while Jill Sobule played in the background. You are one of my idols. I will eat twice as much for you today.
Xoxo,
Sojo
Let’s check out Brittany at her best:
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