Also, sexy jailbait. Crazy hot jailbait. The dirty old woman ship is sailing the seven seas.
Existential. Observational. Feminine.
Sunday, December 25, 2011
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
Sunday, November 20, 2011
Check out my matching lugguage!
Or maybe they do. I don't know.
I'm obsessed with femininity and being more feminine. I've always been girly and a big fan of the pretty but I suddenly feel a great need to be very ladylike. I'm even wearing pantyhose and big, pretty scarves. I've always been the girl who downs the drinks with the boys but always with perfect makeup and while well accessorized.
I have no idea what's going on.
Thursday, October 20, 2011
We're an Acer family
My son got an Acer netbook for his 8th birthday. He's been begging for one for months. It's almost exactly like mine but blue. Mine is red. My daughter has an Acer laptop.
Is there any point to this?
No, not at all.
I should be able to blog about something fun or at the very lest marginally entertaining soon.
That's all.
Is there any point to this?
No, not at all.
I should be able to blog about something fun or at the very lest marginally entertaining soon.
That's all.
Sunday, September 18, 2011
Saturday, September 17, 2011
Somebody should write a book and call it "The Best Cults For Single Mothers".
Maybe I can write it. For serious. I'm ready for someone else to take the reigns for a while.
Somebody would publish it, right? They'll shelve it in the humor section of the bookstore and like The Zombie Survival Guide, casual readers won't be 100% sure it belongs there.
It won't but savvy authors know how to pick their battles.
Maybe I can write it. For serious. I'm ready for someone else to take the reigns for a while.
Somebody would publish it, right? They'll shelve it in the humor section of the bookstore and like The Zombie Survival Guide, casual readers won't be 100% sure it belongs there.
It won't but savvy authors know how to pick their battles.
The sandman is screwing with me
Over the past week, I have dreamt the following:
1. I had 6 babies and didn't know they existed until I had them. One was very premature and looked like a bar of pink soap. What bothered me the most was that I couldn't fit all my kids in my Forester and I was going to have to trade it in for something bigger. I really love my Forester.
2. I was in Africa running from something but I cannot remember what.
3. I was at the house of a guy friend and we almost did the deed. I didn't go through with it because I was afraid it meant I had to marry him and I didn't want to marry a. an American and b. somebody who may be unwilling to move to New Orleans when I get damn good and ready to go. Also, my boyfriend probably wouldn't be too happy about me sexing up some other guy.
4. My father and his parents were still alive which is a common enough theme in my dreams. My grandparents bought a Dyson and I had to show them how to use all the attachments.
That's all I can remember though I think I'm leaving one out. It went all fuzzy in my head.
This seems to be my minds' way of coping under duress and for reasons I'm not willing to publicize, Duress has become my second middle name. I'm outwardly managing things with more grace than I would have in my 20's but clearly it is taking its toll on my psyche.
Keep calm and carry on.
This too shall pass.
These are words to live by.
1. I had 6 babies and didn't know they existed until I had them. One was very premature and looked like a bar of pink soap. What bothered me the most was that I couldn't fit all my kids in my Forester and I was going to have to trade it in for something bigger. I really love my Forester.
2. I was in Africa running from something but I cannot remember what.
3. I was at the house of a guy friend and we almost did the deed. I didn't go through with it because I was afraid it meant I had to marry him and I didn't want to marry a. an American and b. somebody who may be unwilling to move to New Orleans when I get damn good and ready to go. Also, my boyfriend probably wouldn't be too happy about me sexing up some other guy.
4. My father and his parents were still alive which is a common enough theme in my dreams. My grandparents bought a Dyson and I had to show them how to use all the attachments.
That's all I can remember though I think I'm leaving one out. It went all fuzzy in my head.
This seems to be my minds' way of coping under duress and for reasons I'm not willing to publicize, Duress has become my second middle name. I'm outwardly managing things with more grace than I would have in my 20's but clearly it is taking its toll on my psyche.
Keep calm and carry on.
This too shall pass.
These are words to live by.
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
The Lamanite Speaketh
I have a very strange and overwhelming obsession with Mormonism and Mormons yet I do not believe in their doctrine. Not even a little. I think Joseph Smith was a hustler and a con man.
That said, much about the culture appeals to me and I almost always like the people. Their peculiar beliefs strike me as more optimistic than those of mainline Christian denominations. Sadly, nothing shy of dementia would permit me to believe most of what they do.
If you think about it, nothing about LDS beliefs sound any more bizarre than mainstream Christianity.
The saviour of man was born to a virgin and is one of three components that make the godhead. He was born so that he could die on the cross and be resurrected three days later to save the souls of mankind. During his life, he brought the dead to life, turned water into wine and walked on water. Heaven does not have levels and is open to all who accept him as their lord and saviour.
versus....
Jesus is the saviour of mankind on planet earth. Humans had a premortal existence that they don't remember. When you die, almost everyone goes to one of three levels of heaven. Families can be together for all eternity and a righteous man and his wife/wives can populate their own planet in the hereafter. Jesus traveled to the Americas after his resurrection.
Both sound pretty BSC, I think. I could never be a Mormon because I'm free spirited and willing to acknowledge relevancy in belief systems aside from my own. I'm also 1/2 Native American and my DNA cannot, I assure you, be traced to Israel. I love my coffee and wine and my nose stud isn't going anywhere.
Also, there's the part about the founder of the religion being a malignant narcissist with delusions of grandeur. Still, three levels of heaven and forever families? Nice idea, Joe. If only it wasn't completely dreamt up by a regular swindler.
I like the whole cultural part of Mormonism; the tribal aspect of it all. They all seem so happy with family-centered lives. Plus, I love jello.
I'm also not necessarily opposed to polygamy. Yeah, I know the LDS do not practice that anymore but it's a big part of their history. I'm not talking about Warren Jeffs style polygamy but I could totally be one of the wives on Big Love. Spcifically, Nicki. I am such a Nicki.
If only they didn't kill Bill.
That said, much about the culture appeals to me and I almost always like the people. Their peculiar beliefs strike me as more optimistic than those of mainline Christian denominations. Sadly, nothing shy of dementia would permit me to believe most of what they do.
If you think about it, nothing about LDS beliefs sound any more bizarre than mainstream Christianity.
The saviour of man was born to a virgin and is one of three components that make the godhead. He was born so that he could die on the cross and be resurrected three days later to save the souls of mankind. During his life, he brought the dead to life, turned water into wine and walked on water. Heaven does not have levels and is open to all who accept him as their lord and saviour.
versus....
Jesus is the saviour of mankind on planet earth. Humans had a premortal existence that they don't remember. When you die, almost everyone goes to one of three levels of heaven. Families can be together for all eternity and a righteous man and his wife/wives can populate their own planet in the hereafter. Jesus traveled to the Americas after his resurrection.
Both sound pretty BSC, I think. I could never be a Mormon because I'm free spirited and willing to acknowledge relevancy in belief systems aside from my own. I'm also 1/2 Native American and my DNA cannot, I assure you, be traced to Israel. I love my coffee and wine and my nose stud isn't going anywhere.
Also, there's the part about the founder of the religion being a malignant narcissist with delusions of grandeur. Still, three levels of heaven and forever families? Nice idea, Joe. If only it wasn't completely dreamt up by a regular swindler.
I like the whole cultural part of Mormonism; the tribal aspect of it all. They all seem so happy with family-centered lives. Plus, I love jello.
I'm also not necessarily opposed to polygamy. Yeah, I know the LDS do not practice that anymore but it's a big part of their history. I'm not talking about Warren Jeffs style polygamy but I could totally be one of the wives on Big Love. Spcifically, Nicki. I am such a Nicki.
If only they didn't kill Bill.
Sunday, August 21, 2011
You're so cool, Brewster!
Fright Night is my favorite movie of all time in the history of cinema. The character development, shockingly good script for a 1980's vampire flick and calm cinematography contributed to it's oft overlooked brilliance.
Plus, Chris Sarandon totally sexes up a couple of girls. That isn't the sort of thing relegated to a season or period of time. It's always in style.
When I first heard talk of a remake at a convention in 2008 (I was a giddy audience member for this panel discussion) I went through a spectrum of emotions. Initially, they were all negative. Then a couple of years later I learned of the casting choices for the remake and I became confused. Then I watched some movie with Colin Farrell and my confusion reached never before seen levels. This was followed by reserved acceptance and finally excitement laced with a nervous undercurrent of holy shit, what are they doing to my favorite movie?
They did very little with it as it turns out. There is no reason to call Friday's release "Fright Night". If there was even an inkling of integrity in Hollywood, and there is not, they would have titled it "Colin Farrell Is An Inhumanly Sexy Vampire Who Doesn't Sex Up Even One Girl In 106 Minutes of Film Reel".
I was there opening night like a complete sucker with my 3D glasses in hand, a giant flower in my hair and my spicy desi man in tow. It should have been a thrilling date night culminating in hours of sexy sex after the crazy build up of libidinous tension that permeated the original movie.
It was not.
Colin Farrell made a delectable as all hell vampire. He was pleasing to watch for this reason alone but the powers that be didn't do anything with it. There is so much they could have done with that. If they'd let me take a stab at it, there is much I could do with Mr. Farrell's raw materials regardless of if there are cameras rolling.... but I digress. They did not capitalize on this and that should be criminal.
Chris Sarandon created the quintessential sexy vampire in Jerry Dandridge. Well, for me anyway. This does not negate the come hitherness of other celluloid vamps as there are so many relevant versions of the sexy (and on the flipside: repugnant) vampire. It merely diminishes it. For me, Edward, Lestat and the fraternity of The Lost Boys are lacking. They do not define this creature. Chris Sarandon defined him in the original Fright Night and his portrayal has yet to be matched.
Is it even possible for a breathing heterosexual woman to watch this scene and not feel even a slight tingling in the nether regions?
The 1985 movie was masterful in that it was almost entirely about sex yet it contained no actual sex.
Aside from this mammoth hole in the plot fabric, it was the biggest waste of an awesome bunch of thespians I have ever seen in my life.
Charlie Brewster (Anton Yelchin) wasn't very endearing or likeable which is a monumental disconnect from the original. Christopher Mintz-Plasse is a better actor than he is given credit for though his Evil Ed was a totally different animal from Stephen Geoffrey's. Amy Peterson, aka: the naive and virginal girlfriend of Charlie (Imogen Poots) was neither. Toni Collette is like one of the top 5 coolest women on the planet and they gave her absolutely nothing to do as Mrs. Brewster. Charlie's mother didn't do much in the original but then, she was't freaking Toni Collette. You don't stick Toni Collette in a movie and not utilize her supreme acting abilities. That's really uncool.
Billy Cole/Renfield is completely absent from the whole movie. I do not know why.
David Tennant was, well, awesome as Peter Vincent. He may be a Scottish weasel according to Noel Fielding, but nobody does Scottish weasel like David Tennant. He isn't my Peter Vincent but he fashioned a highly entertaining character with the same name in spite of the script.
Well done, Mr. Tennant.
It's a crying shame they couldn't give him (or anyone) a halfway decent script with which to springboard some new-ish/old-ish characters in any truly memorable way.
The remake does contain one moment of near brilliance involving Chris Sarandon.
Yeah, that got a totally audible squee from yours truly in the theater. Can I define "shame", you ask? No, I cannot.
If the whole movie had been made with the same spirit as Chris Sarandon's cameo, it would have been a million different kinds of awesome. On it's own, Fright Night (2011) is a mediocre horror/comedy. Compared to the original comedy/horror Fright Night (1985), it's a bitch slap.
At least I have my memorabilia.
Chris Sarandon is Greek. For real.
Because I cannot go anywhere or do anything without some sort of weirdness ensuing, this wooden stake was sitting by my front tire in the parking lot after exiting the movie theater Friday night.
I'm keeping the stake. Forever.
I may use it on myself when the remake of The Neverending Story hits theaters in 2014.
Plus, Chris Sarandon totally sexes up a couple of girls. That isn't the sort of thing relegated to a season or period of time. It's always in style.
When I first heard talk of a remake at a convention in 2008 (I was a giddy audience member for this panel discussion) I went through a spectrum of emotions. Initially, they were all negative. Then a couple of years later I learned of the casting choices for the remake and I became confused. Then I watched some movie with Colin Farrell and my confusion reached never before seen levels. This was followed by reserved acceptance and finally excitement laced with a nervous undercurrent of holy shit, what are they doing to my favorite movie?
They did very little with it as it turns out. There is no reason to call Friday's release "Fright Night". If there was even an inkling of integrity in Hollywood, and there is not, they would have titled it "Colin Farrell Is An Inhumanly Sexy Vampire Who Doesn't Sex Up Even One Girl In 106 Minutes of Film Reel".
I was there opening night like a complete sucker with my 3D glasses in hand, a giant flower in my hair and my spicy desi man in tow. It should have been a thrilling date night culminating in hours of sexy sex after the crazy build up of libidinous tension that permeated the original movie.
It was not.
Colin Farrell made a delectable as all hell vampire. He was pleasing to watch for this reason alone but the powers that be didn't do anything with it. There is so much they could have done with that. If they'd let me take a stab at it, there is much I could do with Mr. Farrell's raw materials regardless of if there are cameras rolling.... but I digress. They did not capitalize on this and that should be criminal.
Chris Sarandon created the quintessential sexy vampire in Jerry Dandridge. Well, for me anyway. This does not negate the come hitherness of other celluloid vamps as there are so many relevant versions of the sexy (and on the flipside: repugnant) vampire. It merely diminishes it. For me, Edward, Lestat and the fraternity of The Lost Boys are lacking. They do not define this creature. Chris Sarandon defined him in the original Fright Night and his portrayal has yet to be matched.
Is it even possible for a breathing heterosexual woman to watch this scene and not feel even a slight tingling in the nether regions?
No, it is not.
The 1985 movie was masterful in that it was almost entirely about sex yet it contained no actual sex.
Aside from this mammoth hole in the plot fabric, it was the biggest waste of an awesome bunch of thespians I have ever seen in my life.
Charlie Brewster (Anton Yelchin) wasn't very endearing or likeable which is a monumental disconnect from the original. Christopher Mintz-Plasse is a better actor than he is given credit for though his Evil Ed was a totally different animal from Stephen Geoffrey's. Amy Peterson, aka: the naive and virginal girlfriend of Charlie (Imogen Poots) was neither. Toni Collette is like one of the top 5 coolest women on the planet and they gave her absolutely nothing to do as Mrs. Brewster. Charlie's mother didn't do much in the original but then, she was't freaking Toni Collette. You don't stick Toni Collette in a movie and not utilize her supreme acting abilities. That's really uncool.
Billy Cole/Renfield is completely absent from the whole movie. I do not know why.
David Tennant was, well, awesome as Peter Vincent. He may be a Scottish weasel according to Noel Fielding, but nobody does Scottish weasel like David Tennant. He isn't my Peter Vincent but he fashioned a highly entertaining character with the same name in spite of the script.
Well done, Mr. Tennant.
It's a crying shame they couldn't give him (or anyone) a halfway decent script with which to springboard some new-ish/old-ish characters in any truly memorable way.
The remake does contain one moment of near brilliance involving Chris Sarandon.
Yeah, that got a totally audible squee from yours truly in the theater. Can I define "shame", you ask? No, I cannot.
If the whole movie had been made with the same spirit as Chris Sarandon's cameo, it would have been a million different kinds of awesome. On it's own, Fright Night (2011) is a mediocre horror/comedy. Compared to the original comedy/horror Fright Night (1985), it's a bitch slap.
At least I have my memorabilia.
 |
| It's real. Chris Sarandon signed this for me as I stood there like a mentally deficient mute staring into the face of Pan. |
Chris Sarandon is Greek. For real.
Because I cannot go anywhere or do anything without some sort of weirdness ensuing, this wooden stake was sitting by my front tire in the parking lot after exiting the movie theater Friday night.
I'm keeping the stake. Forever.
I may use it on myself when the remake of The Neverending Story hits theaters in 2014.
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
Confusing Pants
I picked up these reversible pants today at Earthbound Trading Company. The poor sales guy had to demonstrate for me how to put them on. It involves tying in the back, bringing the material through your legs and tying in the front.
 |
| This is one of the prints. I like both but I think the other side better complements my coloring. |
 |
| This is the other side. They're really pretty if you're into flares. I believe they will be great for dancing barring any tie malfunctions. They were also extremely reasonably priced. Belly dancing attire and accessories tend to be a bit steep. |
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
Reconciling My Faiths
That's faiths, plural. Not one system of belief but two. Two completely different and seemingly conflicting schools of religious thought. Christianity and Voodoo.The second principle of magic: things which have once been in contact with each other continue to act on each other at a distance after the physical contact has been severed.— James G. Frazer
Yep, that's me.
Bits and Pieces
I'm having a very bad week and I think it may have to do with too many positive ions in the air.
Or something. My unhappiness and general feeling of being trapped in a state I hate with a fiery passion could be biting me on the ass. Planning a move to another state is especially challenging when kids are involved.
Or it could be those positive ions though it probably isn't fair to blame them today. The moon is waning but it seems the effects of yesterday's full moon are lingering. It is also possible I'm a wee bit crazy.
Regardless, I'm trying to think of things that should make me happy right now. I'm trying to be a glass half-full kinda girl.
Here they are in no particular order...
iced mocha lattes from Dunkin' Donuts, the amazing Greek/Lebanese buffet I get to enjoy now on a weekly basis, kisses and cuddles from my desi man, the 12 pounds that I no longer carry on me, the beautiful green gauzy material in my living room that is soon to become a veil for dancing, Luna bars, the fact that I can totally pull off wearing a bindi according to a few different desi guys, the discovery of Turkish pop music, that school for kids is starting in a few days, alprazolam, egg nog pie, quality perfume, FRIGHT NIGHT, the huge belly dance event happening later this week and.... the foreskin attached to my desi man that brings me so much physical joy multiple times a week
I bet you didn't expect that last one, did you?
I feel a teeny bit less distraught after compiling that list.
If you read it, I thank you.
Or something. My unhappiness and general feeling of being trapped in a state I hate with a fiery passion could be biting me on the ass. Planning a move to another state is especially challenging when kids are involved.
Or it could be those positive ions though it probably isn't fair to blame them today. The moon is waning but it seems the effects of yesterday's full moon are lingering. It is also possible I'm a wee bit crazy.
Regardless, I'm trying to think of things that should make me happy right now. I'm trying to be a glass half-full kinda girl.
Here they are in no particular order...
iced mocha lattes from Dunkin' Donuts, the amazing Greek/Lebanese buffet I get to enjoy now on a weekly basis, kisses and cuddles from my desi man, the 12 pounds that I no longer carry on me, the beautiful green gauzy material in my living room that is soon to become a veil for dancing, Luna bars, the fact that I can totally pull off wearing a bindi according to a few different desi guys, the discovery of Turkish pop music, that school for kids is starting in a few days, alprazolam, egg nog pie, quality perfume, FRIGHT NIGHT, the huge belly dance event happening later this week and.... the foreskin attached to my desi man that brings me so much physical joy multiple times a week
I bet you didn't expect that last one, did you?
I feel a teeny bit less distraught after compiling that list.
If you read it, I thank you.
Monday, August 15, 2011
Let's not get caught up on formalities.
I'm addicted to probing into the lives of others. Hence, I am addicted to blogs.
I always hear about people getting book deals and public speaking gigs and talk show guestings(?) because they started posting a bunch of stuff on a website and enough people liked reading it.
Blogs wield a lot of power in modern day western society.
Truth be told, I would be the worst celebrity ever. I'm happiest when alone and am prone to breathtaking bouts of claustrophobia in large crowds. I'm not even using my real name on this thing.
That doesn't mean I don't have anything to say. I have a lot to say. A few may find some of it useful and/or entertaining. A few will not. Some may even hate what I say here.
I'm ok with that.
Sometimes I'm serious and deep. Sometimes I display roughly the same level of maturity as an 11-year-old girl at a Justin Bieber concert. Sometimes I feel like I need to talk about sex in a very frank and adult manner and I'm probably going to do so even if a few find it offensive.
I cannot think of one incident in the history of the blogosphere where someone was waterboarded until they agreed to read a blog they did not want to read.
That said... hello everybody!
I always hear about people getting book deals and public speaking gigs and talk show guestings(?) because they started posting a bunch of stuff on a website and enough people liked reading it.
Blogs wield a lot of power in modern day western society.
Truth be told, I would be the worst celebrity ever. I'm happiest when alone and am prone to breathtaking bouts of claustrophobia in large crowds. I'm not even using my real name on this thing.
That doesn't mean I don't have anything to say. I have a lot to say. A few may find some of it useful and/or entertaining. A few will not. Some may even hate what I say here.
I'm ok with that.
Sometimes I'm serious and deep. Sometimes I display roughly the same level of maturity as an 11-year-old girl at a Justin Bieber concert. Sometimes I feel like I need to talk about sex in a very frank and adult manner and I'm probably going to do so even if a few find it offensive.
I cannot think of one incident in the history of the blogosphere where someone was waterboarded until they agreed to read a blog they did not want to read.
That said... hello everybody!
The Children's Bordello
Sometimes I have an urge to recreate a childhood memory for one my offspring. Sometimes it is almost magical and I get to see one of them (there are 2 but one barely still qualifies as a child) giddy with the sheer novelty of experiencing something from another time. To them, these excursions in Mom's Forester may as well be a trip in Doc Brown's Delorean. Today, the time machine took us all the way back to 1985.
The actual Crystal's I frequented as a child closed down years ago. Fortunately, they all seem to have the same innards. They even have the same layout from what I remember.
 |
| Almost immediately, we were greeted by these light fixtures. |
The parlour boasts a theater that plays nonstop old Warner Brother cartoons on a loop. It is virtually impossible to not be reminded of the Twilight Zone movie.
Decrepit games and old movie posters add to the general sense of something being terrifically off.
The you realize the ceiling over the large dining area has been decorated with playing cards. Some have names written on them.
 |
| In retrospect, they probably have something to do with this magician. |
My son was most interested in the library room so that's where we dined.
 |
| The books were real. I checked. |
 |
| For a brief while, I got to be Mrs White; just waiting for a chance to be alone with the sexy English butler. |
 |
| The decor was creeptacular. Were I an eccentric rich girl, I would have a library exactly like this. The food wasn't great but when/where are pizza buffets great? Something about the library room inspired my son's curiosity about the old days. Did I have a DS like his? A computer? Did I have electricity? I was overcome with a sense of sadness over the condition of the (gimmicky) old eatery. Crystal's was always bustling with eager and slightly creeped out children and their more than slightly creeped out parents. Today, the place was almost empty. A lone Indian watched a cricket match on one of the televisions while two children searched for games that didn't have a sign declaring them to be temporarily nonfunctioning. I left somewhat relieved that it still exists at all, but sad to see the remnants of a bygone era that I was once a part. |
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