Monday, January 31, 2011

Because If You Live Close to The Coast, You're More Open Minded

Correct me if I'm wrong, but for the last 40 years America has been obsessed with health and healthy products.

At least places that are a couple hundred miles from the coasts.  All those fat people seem to populate the inside states.

Everyone seems to be on a quest to find the answer.  How to lose the weight?  How to beat that unbeatable foe, aging?  How to get in the preemptive strikes against things like cancer and old person brain and death? 

One of my money jobs is at a yoga studio, and working there I see and hear about all kinds of "cures", things that "work".  Some people are frikin' crazy with the things they come up with.  For example, the yoga that is practiced at our studio is Bikram Yoga - yoga done in a room heated to about 105 degrees with 50-60% humidity.  This is already an extreme yoga, yet some people feel the need to intensify an already intense experience.  There are some choice individuals who not only wear long pants and long sleeves, but also wear another layer over that - it appears to be a thick plastic bag in the shape of a full body suit.  Apparently it intensifies the heat.  Because that's what you want to do in a room that's 105 degrees already.

I'm going to clue you, my lovely readers, in on a secret.  There is no single food or exercise or theory or diet that will work for every single person.  The road to health is an extremely individual journey.  But doing things like eating properly and exercising in some form, you will totally get closer.

But I always find it funny when people do things for their "health" that they hate.  It makes no sense to me.  I love Bikram Yoga, I've been doing it for almost 7 years because of that simple fact.  I love fresh fruit and vegetables and fish and good meat and stuff like that. 

Tofu - for me - is mostly pretty gross.  It has to be prepared in just the right way in order for me to like it.  So I don't eat that much of it.  I know that it has a lot of protein and is supposed to be all good for you, but its icky to me, and why would I put myself through something just because?  If something is nasty, it's nasty.

Today on the way home from my other money job - catering, not stripping - there was a woman next to me on the subway.  As we were riding along she pulled out a bag of dried fruit and began to eat.  If you have read any of my other posts you might remember that listening to people eat drives me bat-shit crazy, and thus I tend to be hyper-aware of people when they eat near me.  The fruit she was eating was the all natural dried fruit, fruit that has simply been put in a dehydrator and had nothing else added.  Not the good kind, where they put a slice of fruit in a barrel full of sugar and let it sit for a month and a half, so when it comes out its about 2% fruit and 768% sweet, delicious candy-like wonderfulness.  Fruit that has simply been dehydrated tastes like a combination of cardboard and old cardboard.  It's as easy to eat, too.

This woman gnawed and chewed and desperately tried to ingest this so-called "food", the whole time with the most awful look on her face.  And it wasn't just her face, I stole a look at her after she was done and she had a normal-ish face that didn't look unhappy to be alive. 

It just made me wonder why she would do that, why would she eat something that was so displeasing to her.  What is the point in extending your life if you're unhappy when you are living it?  I'm not a crazy-go-nuts kinda of person, I don't party like crazy or sleep with bunches of guys - and I love my life.  I love my family and what I do for a living and the people I keep around me.

Why would I fuck that up by eating something disagreeable? 


Friday, January 28, 2011

Twilight Is A Big Practical Joke Part II

Ok, I have sushi, a pot of jasmine tea and I took a nap this afternoon, I think I am prepared to finish my scathing review of Twilight.

*takes deep breath*

I think I have fully covered the heinous acting in this first of a series of movies (hooray!), so why don't we go ahead and move right along to the film-making itself.

Visually, the movie makes no sense.  Points for setting a story in the stunning Pacific northwest, but negative points for not using the incredible landscape to it's fullest extent.  And major negative points for shooting so much of the movie on a sound stage.  Just about every scene when characters are in a clearing in the forest is on a sound stage.  You're telling me out of all the expanse of wilderness in that part of the country, you couldn't find one clearing that suited your needs?  I know exactly what happened.  Someone was too lazy to go explore so they said, "Meh, let's just build what we want."

Lazy. Film-making.

I gotta say, I have never found the whole pale-vampire thing attractive.  If I went out with a vampire, it would have to be a black guy, cause a man that is paler than me would make me feel like I was sleeping with a fish.  That makes me think about the Mafia and no one wants to sleep with the fishes.  That's why its a threat.

This vampire makeup is worse than most.  Robert Pattinson is already kinda weird looking (by the way, what happened to him?  He was all kinds of attractive in Goblet of Fire), but with the stark white make up it makes him look like his face has no dimension, thus making it hard for the camera to distinguish any features which results in his mouth looking huge and his eyes looking like they aren't quite even.

The rest of the vampire clan is the same, everyone looks really ill with strange uneven faces.  And you can actually see the makeup, where it's been caked on.

And no one's hair EVER MOVES.  There is so much product and makeup that the vampires look like they spend hours getting ready to leave the house.  No one (not even Bella) looks effortlessly attractive.

The script is absolutely terrible.  Like I said in my previous post, I can't speak to the book and what was written there, but if its anything like the script it is not good promotional material.  For example, here is one of the first interactions between Edward and Bella.

"You enjoying the rain?"
"You're asking me about the weather?"
"Yeah, I guess I am."
"Well, I don't really like the rain?"

Yeah, baby, sparks are FLYING.

At another point, Bella, her two little friends whose names I didn't bother to remember and our flat-faced Edward are standing outside a restaurant.  Here is the exchange that takes place.

"I should get Bella something to eat."
"Yeah, you should."
"Yeah, I should eat something."
"Yeah, Bella, you should get something to eat."
"So yeah, I'll go eat something."

Right after Edward stops those scary men from bothering Bella (barf, a retarded rabbit could have dealt with those guys), they have this exchange.

"Quick, say something to distract me from going back there and ripping those guys' heads off." (Yeah, sure, Edward.)
"You should put your seat belt on."
"You should put YOUR seat belt on."

I will use my powers of super awesome future-telling to suss out their conversation an hour later.

"Well, you should put your seat belt on!"
"Yeah, so why don't you put on your seat belt?"
"Why aren't you wearing your seat belt?  You should put it on."
"Shouldn't you have your seat belt on?"
"Seat belt. Put it on."

And you should never have your characters talking about things that haven't happened.  For example, at one point Edward takes Bella aside and tells her that they shouldn't be friends anymore.  There is nothing leading up to this that would make anyone think there was anything resembling a friendship between these two characters.  They really look like they have an intense problem with each other.  Not great from a couple of people who are supposed to have such an intense love for each other that it rivals the laws of existence itself.  This is like that time a friend of mine told me he had gotten engaged to his girlfriend and instead of being happy I made a face like someone had put earwax in my mouth.

So he brings her over to his house to meet his "family".  Then after another scene of awkward bantering with the fam, Edward takes her to his room, only to toss her on his back and forcibly drag her up into the treetops.  Now, this could have been an intensely romantic scene.  However, it is just a repeat of everything we've seen before, two people being awkward around each other, only now we're at the top of a pine tree.

And during their little "love montage" when we should be seeing the two of them growing closer together, all we see is more floundering.  Edward is sitting there, playing piano.  Bella is sitting off to the side, looking incredibly bored.  And the light is streaming in through the window, but for some reason his glittery acne doesn't show up.

Continuity, people.

And, ok, I understand that these books were written by a Mormon who is trying to convince teenagers not to have sex before marriage.  But a vampire movie without awesome, nasty sex?  Not even any real kissing?  Fuck.  That.  Not to mention that to actually be in a relationship where you can't kiss the other person is completely stupid.  And no sex until marriage?  The reason we have sex before we get married is 1) there is nothing more natural than sex and it is not evil and 2) if we don't have sexual compatibility with the person we marry we sign up for a living hell.  I can't think of a worse fate than being married to someone who was bad in bed.  The message of this movie seems to be, "We don't have to touch each other at all, we can just talk!"

That is abnormal and hugely upsetting.  Not that I am eager to see either one of these actors in a carnal situation, but let's be honest.  They'd be fucking like rabbits.

Ok, and the notion that Carlisle is a doctor who only changes people who can't be saved is ridiculous.  This man has been a doctor for hundreds of years.  Doctors lose patients all the time.  How many thousands of people has he changed into vampires over the years?  This is a huge problem!  The man is a menace.  And if he is just indiscriminately turning people in vampires all willy nilly, how does he know he's not changing someone who'll be a real danger to society?  Just because he can't stand to loose a patient.  

See, that would be a much cooler story.  A vampire who changes someone who turns out to be a serial killer and then he has to stop him/her.  That's copyrighted by me, by the way.

Not to mention that he doesn't really seem to be doing any good.  For example, Edward was changed because he was dying, and now he is a whiny little shit who laments his immortality all the time.  That's another thing, why is it that all vampires are so torn up about being immortal?    Why don't they have the most awesome life?  I would travel and learn and read and experience life in every way I possibly could.  But no, the whole vampire guilt thing takes hold and apparently all you can do is pretend to be a teenager and go to high school for the rest of eternity.

The baseball scene.

What.  The.  Fuck.

That's all I have to say about that.

Let's just go ahead and skip to that final "battle" scene.

When Bella is getting the shit beat out of her in her old ballet studio (um, why?), again, the movie fails.  For almost two hours, the movie has emphatically failed to make us connect to the main character, so when she is nearing death, I couldn't care less.

Vampire venom?  Like, vampires are snakes?  So, suck out the poison?  I hate to point this out, but that technique doesn't even work on snake bites.  Its like someone heard about this "cure" second hand and thought it would be a good idea to use it in the story.  Um, no.

But, ok, we're going there.  Edward is going to suck out the vampire venom from Bella's arm.  While he's doing that, he gives the impression that not draining her blood completely is very difficult for him.  All this time, Carlisle is all, "Find the will to stop."  Um, why don't you just make him stop?  Perhaps this is a bad time to have him find the will within himself.  How many times has this happened before?

Ok, let's keep going forward, we're almost done! 

So she gets the shit beat out of her.  She wakes up in the hospital and the discovers that the official story to explain what happened is that she fell down a flight of stairs and hit a window.  Fell down a flight of stairs.  The go-to explanation of the domestic abuse world.  Cause let's teach America's youth (especially girls) that its OK for the person you love to hurt you.  Because if you really love him, it doesn't hurt, right?

And Edward is a total cock tease with the vampirism thing.  We all know you change her.  You have to, because vampires can't be with all old, wrinkled-up ladies.  Cause that's all weird and no one wants to think about old people having raunchy vampire sex.  Just turn her, for fuck's sake.  End the story!

And the soundtrack is nauseating.

Ok, there we go.  Done.

I watched New Moon as well.  Its shit.  Let's just end that there.

Thursday, January 27, 2011

Twilight Is A Big Practical Joke Part I

**Editor's note** I will only be speaking about the movie "Twilight" in this post, not the books.  I have not read the books and therefore cannot speak to them.

Last night I sat myself in front of the TV with a large pot of tea and manacles to keep me on the couch and forced myself to watch the first Twilight movie.

This is the result.

Right from the beginning, there are major problems.  The first five minutes of the film made me wonder if I was watching a bad student film, but then I heard Kristen Stewart's halting speech and the unlit quality of the footage and I thought, wait, yes, I am watching Twilight.  

Cause everything's all twilight-y.  Oh.  I get it.

Its time to face it, ladies and gentleman.  Kristen Stewart is a blight upon the performing world.  She always looks like she is about to fall asleep, and in some shots she looks like her eyes are completely different sizes.  Those things I can forgive, that's genetic, she can't help that she looks like she has a developmental disease.  The biggest problem I have with her is her absolute, flat out refusal to even slightly connect with another actor.  She is like a black hole of creativity.  See, I don't actually think that Robert Pattinson is that bad of an actor.  I think (thank you, Bryan) that when he stops trying to be James Dean, he might be a good little performer.  But every single time he tries to create anything resembling story or interest, she emphatically denies him.  She is the cock block of acting.

She has this habit of expelling her breath right before she speaks, in the middle of her sentences and at the end of her lines, giving her a Christopher Walken-esque way of speaking.  There are many things wrong with this.  First off, the only person who can do something Christopher Walken-esque is Christopher Walken, and sometimes it doesn't even work for him.  So she just sounds like a halting idiot.  Another reason this is very wrong has to do with a basic acting tenant, one of the first things I learned as an actress.  If you have this habit of huffing out a sigh at the end of lines, you are losing any kind of emotion or feeling that you were building.  Breathing out like that is an escape from what you are feeling.  So anything that could have been going on in Miss Stewart is immediately negated.  

Whats more, the character that Stewart has created and expects people to watch and like has the least attractive personality and is the biggest buzz kill of anyone I have ever encountered.  She is never happy or excited about anything.  If anyone else is happy or excited about anything, she will give that person reason to not be happy or excited with one droopy-eyed stare.  If I was a teacher in this school, or an adult in her life, or just a person passing her on the street, I would take her aside and honestly recommend that she get counseling.  Think about it, today a teenager who acts like Bella would be a candidate for a school massacre.

There is a fundamental truism in creating a film that draws in the audience, that intrigues a large group of people to the extent to invest themselves in a clearly unrealistic set of circumstances.  That is, if your characters honestly care about what is going on, so will the public.  For two hours, Kristen Stewart doesn't give a flying fuck what is happening.  The fact that a movie is being made around her just seems like a growing annoyance for her.  Robert Pattinson senses this, that his scene partner couldn't care less, so he tries to compensate by investing himself 300%.  This makes him look like he is in a completely different movie and a terrible over-actor.  This comes across in anger (the easiest emotion to go to when you are pushing something out that you don't really feel) and petulance.  That is about as deep as we get with Edward Cullen.

You never want a character talking about emotions that no one sees, in either character.  At one point, Bella starts talking about all these things she sees in Edward, that he's really a good person and that she can trust him and all that bullshit.  We, as the audience, have no idea what she is talking about, because we have seen none of this.  All we've seen is a moody, distant man who is extremely mentally abusive.

Edward is also terrible at keeping his vampire-ism a secret.  The only reason Bella is able to figure out Edward's secret (script-wise, of course, I don't believe that Stewart would find her way out of a station wagon with a windows rolled down) is because he is really shit about keeping this secret.  Out of all the secrets a person can have, the one about you being an immortal who must feed on the blood of living creatures should be the one most closely kept.  He fucks up all the time, its a wonder that the whole country doesn't know that he's a vampire.  If I was a vampire, I would be subtle.  In over a hundred years, he still hasn't learned this.

I find it strange that when she figures it out, nothing in her behavior changes.  She doesn't seem to feel any closer to him, there is still a major amount of awkwardness between them.  You could see that he was expecting things in this awful relationship to improve, whereas nothing changes.  The revelation of his other-worldliness doesn't strike her  as awesome (the original definition) or incredible.  It was like he told her that he sometimes drinks Coke instead of Pepsi.

Let's think about that scene for a moment - the one where Edward is revealing himself in all his glory to the awestruck Bella. 

The idea that vampires have no problem with the sun but are revealed as different when in it is actually an interesting notion.  The idea that they glitter in sunlight is asinine and inane.  The visual created in the film doesn't look like diamonds, it looks like he has a very special and dangerous strain of cystic acne.  Not attractive.  

In this scene, he should be trying to scare Bella.  The role of this scene in the grand scheme of the story is to show that Edward is so in love with Bella, that scaring her away to spare her a life loving him is his primary goal.  He should be trying to scare the piss out of her.  He should be scared that he might actually succeed.  Apparently, the director thought they should forgo all that story shit and just have him dance around the woods, hitting trees and rocks like a petulant child, wailing about how much immortality sucks.  Not scary.

 . . . . 

Ok, this is going to have to be a two part-er, cause I don't have the energy to finish the rest of this diatribe tonight.  It's wearing me out, all the awful.

So, yeah, tune in tomorrow.

Wednesday, January 26, 2011

Sorry For Writing The Obvious Today, But This Was All I Had

This is such an odd time of year.  It always feels a little bit like limbo.  We aren't waiting for Thanksgiving or Christmas, there has been the first snows so that precipitation is no longer magical and the cold weather only makes us long for spring.

However, this is the time of year when I find everyone is obsessed with the weather.  

Its as if what mother nature throws at us is all we have to hang onto.  It ranks right up there with sports - there is such an element of uncertainty to what comes hurtling from the skies that we are glued to the weather channel, desperate for predictions of the future.  And it is so rare that anyone is right.  I don't know why they give specific times for things.  For example, today the snow wasn't supposed to start until 3 pm (according to and the snow began falling around 8 am.  Why not just say, shit's gonna go down sometime today, get milk and toilet paper.

There is something about snow, no matter how many times I see it fall or how much comes bucketing down, it is always magical.  I recall being in grade school and dancing around the dining room table with my pajamas inside out to implore snow, to get that snow day.  

I'll have you know I caused the blizzard of '96 with this method.

I feel like the cold and the snow didn't bother me as much when I was younger as they do now.  I would bound out into the woods behind our house with no thought to how cold the air was or how wet my mittens were going to become.  I honestly think it has everything to do with snow pants. 

Those things are fantastic, but they don't make them for adults.  Totes unfair, that is an untapped market!  How many of us want to go frolic (sound it out) in the snow and have epic snow fights, but don't want to have to go outside in jeans?  I'm gonna go with a shit-ton, that's how many!  And NO ONE is taking advantage of this market?  

If not for my love of acting and my complete ineptness in the ways of business, I would totally take advantage of that.

On a side not, Clash of the Titans (the new one) is a terrible film that completely destroys the myths involved and is incredibly disrespectful to the film its owes homage to.  Unacceptable.  Even Liam Neeson couldn't save this movie.  And is it just me, or is there something strange seeing Liam and Ralph Fiennes acting together again in such an abstract way?  After the performances they gave in Schindler's List, I would think they would choose something more grand to team up again.

Oh well, what do I know.

Monday, January 24, 2011

Honestly, My Mind Goes Blank

I'm so glad I don't have testicles.

Ok, let me go back.

My James is a stunt man and fight choreographer.  For a living, he gets thrown around and beaten up.  And he is fantastic, and I am not just saying that because of my intimate relationship with him.  Honestly, if he was shit, I'd tell you.  But he's amazing.   

Here, look how awesome he is.  He's the one who lives at the end.

The reason I bring up his line of work is simple.  At home, he likes to work out the fights/stunts he does before he actually goes through with them.  Not full out, mind you, but walk through them at least.  For that, he uses me.  Now, I have done my share of martial arts and gymnastics and yoga, so I am not completely useless as a partner for this stuff.  However, I do have a problem with not making contact.  With the hitting and kicking and stuff.

So today we were working on some fight stuff, and I just might have nailed him right in the gonads.  

The way he described the pain was, "I feel like I am going to throw up my balls."

Needless to say, I laughed really hard at the time, but I felt bad afterward.

But that got me thinking how lucky I am to be female.  Now, we do have our share of SNAFUs, what with the menstruation, childbirth, and cancers of our various reproductive organs.  But at least we don't have to deal with all that stuff swinging around down there.  Seriously, it looks like whoever designed the male reproductive situation wasn't even paying attention.  

And I'm glad we don't have the urge to name our genitalia.  I think men name their penises because they need to feel more important.  See, we don't need to do that.  We create LIFE, we have the ability to grow another human being inside of us - that funnily enough fulfills the definition as a parasite feeding on a host.  But regardless, why would we need to name that anything?  

. . . . .

I'd probably just come up with something crappy anyway.

And Don't Give Girly Handshakes, I'll Make Fun Of You Later

It really gets me when people don't shake hands.  

In this time of general public fear that any organic being (and many in-organic) that we come in contact with is going to infect us with some terrible virus that has an animal proceeding the word 'flu', I have found that people are much less likely to shake hands.

This upsets me. 

A handshake as a greeting goes back at least to the 5th century BC - two soldiers are depicted on a funerary stele shaking hands.  According to the universally-accepted-as-true Wikipedia, Sir Walter Raleigh may have introduced this greeting to the royal court in Britain in the 16th century.  For hundreds of years, shaking hands is a way of saying, you can trust me - my hands are empty of weapons and I want to have the opportunity to recognize you as a person and an equal.  This seemingly simple gesture signifies so much from one human being to another.  

It makes very little sense to me to refuse a handshake on the basis of viral concerns.  Living in New York City, riding the subway will expose you to more germs than shaking someone's hand.  If you have the inexplicable fear that shaking a person's hand will make you ill, Purell works wonders.  And while that can be insulting, having someone clean off their hands right after they shake hands with you, I would prefer that than a flat out refusal.  

I understand that if you are an orthodox male Jew, you may have a problem shaking hands with a woman, and vice versa.  Here we are going back to my feelings on religion and that God doesn't give a shit who we touch as long as we don't hurt anyone, but if its what you believe, then yes, ok, go crazy, avoid human contact.  However, there are nice ways to say, "I'm sorry, but I can't shake hands, God doesn't want me to touch you."  Don't be a dick about it.

I also don't like it when people don't take off their gloves to shake hands.  I always make a conscious effort to take my gloves off when I meet someone, even if we are in the middle of the street in New York City during the coldest days of the year.  In many cultures it is considered extremely rude not to remove your gloves before shaking someone's hand, and I would have to agree with that.  I mean, its such a half-assed way of going through the motions of greeting someone.  It's saying, "I'll shake your hand, but I'm not going to touch you."

I feel like the Roman handshake needs to be brought back.  

In case you are unaware of this fantastic way of greeting people, here's a pictorial reference.

This is such an incredibly manly way of greeting people.  In fact, from here on out, this will be referred to as the "man-shake".  I mean, come on, if someone initiated the man-shake with me, I would probably give a hearty laugh and shout "Verily, HUZZAH!" and then I would go have an irrationally amazing day.  

Someone should have given her a man-shake.  She'd have kept the leg and probably gained a super power or two.

Saturday, January 22, 2011

I Don't Even Know How You Would Apply For This Job

I would be a terrible secret agent.

I think everyone watches movies like James Bond and Ronin and other secret agent-y movies that don't have a half crazed Scientologist as the lead and want to do something awesome like that.  Just think about the fight scene in the first James Bond with Daniel Craig when he's chasing that one black guy who was the bomb maker.  I mean, come on, that is EPIC!  And even though it would mean throwing yourself head first into danger, I know there was a big part of me that was all, ME ME ME, PICK ME!

However, the more I think about the logistics of being a secret agent, the more I think I wouldn't be cut out for the job.  

There are so many times when an agent is in one place, they get a call or a clue or something and the next scene they're halfway across the world.  Different time zone, probably had to take the first flight available so maybe you had to fly coach, never know if the flight had a meal  . . . 

I would be SO cranky.  

See, I need my eight hours.  Sleep is very important to me, and it never seems to be high on the priorities list of the secret agent.  See, I would be interrogating someone, and if they didn't tell me what I needed to know right away, I'd be all, "Listen, I am very disagreeable at the moment, and if you don't tell me what I want to know, I am just going to kill you.  Sooner I kill you, sooner I get my nap!"  And see, I would just kill people, and not get the information, cause, you know, bedtime.

Secondly, I couldn't deal with all the sexually transmitted diseases.  From what I can gather, sleeping with all and sundry seems like a big part of the job.  And you know that not everyone is going to be conscientious about getting checked out.  I mean, how often do you see James Bond go get a blood test?  I'm sure it's difficult to find an afternoon to go to the doctor to get checked out, much less pick up the necessary antibiotics, creams and salves from the pharmacy and then actually USE them.  By the time you'd retire, you would probably have diseases completely unique to you from all the combinations of evil diseases.  Do you know what syphilis does to your brain alone?  And that one has NO symptoms.  By the time your hands start trembling from the brain and nerve damage, you're fucked!  Now add gonorrhea, chlamydia, hepatitis, HIV, herpes, warts, crabs and goodness knows what else - you could be the petri dish for a super evil disease of epic proportions.

And, you know, I would feel bad just taking people's stuff.  You always see guys just taking cars and stealing briefcases and rifling through purses.  I'd feel bad.  So yeah, you need to steal that car to chase the bad guy, but what if the owner of that car is really allergic to bee stings and his EPI pen is in the car?  And then he gets stung by a particularly evil bee, and doesn't have his medicine.  And that's all your fault.  Don't you feel like an asshole?

Funnily enough, I think I would get over the whole killing and torturing aspect rather quickly.

Friday, January 14, 2011

The Towel Was Only A Dollar

I was working at my yoga studio today and I had an interesting thought after a particularly infuriating exchange with a student who needs more than yoga to mend their emotional problems - I'm thinking lithium.  

I work very hard not to say what I am really thinking.  My impulse is often to say things that would be considered painful to many, whereas I see it as, yes, a blunt, yet simple, truth.  You can think of it as a female version of Simon Cowell, only American and with more cursing.

For example, if someone is acting like a rancid whore and throwing an puerile tantrum just because they are required to pay a dollar for and extra towel, I simper and smile and tell them I am sorry, but that's policy and that they are more than welcome to bring their own towels and blah blah blah blah blah.

Inside I am howling.

This, for me, brings up the question of karma.  The idea that the energy you give out comes back to you.  That the way you treat people is the way you will be treated.  The golden rule - "One should treat others as one would like others to treat oneself," - is a watered down explanation of karma.

As I was watching this person ranting about how unfair it was to charge them a whole dollar for a third towel after the first two were free made me consider karma again.  Obviously, this is a person who has a nasty streak.  I can't be the first person who they have let loose on.  Therefore, this is not a person who is concerned with the energy that is coming back at them.

Suddenly, it hit me.  What if I was supposed to be this person's bad karma?  What if I was supposed to be the person to gave this bonehead their awful, terrible karma right back?  Maybe the delightful responsibility of making this person realize just how terrible and empty their life is, was laid before my feet by the great, delicious universe.

And I didn't do it.

Then I thought, am I going to be in trouble for not doing my karmic duty?  (Hehehe, duty.)  I mean, am I going to have bad karma now that I didn't give that bad karma back to the nasty fruit of adultery that had just left the building?  Is that how karma works?  It would be a great assignment, being in charge of the bad karma for another person.  

Think about it, if I am a good, loving person to everyone, including the nasties, how will the nasties get what's coming to them?  They're just going to go around being awful and terrible, while we nice observers of the karmic light go around being stepped on.

I think its time to become Warriors for Karma.  Our job will be to go around to all the offensive, repulsive humanoids on the planet and give them whats coming to them, whether that be a thorough tongue-lashing or a good, old fashion punch in the mouth.

I'll be taking volunteers.  We're gonna stir shit up. 

Thursday, January 13, 2011

Axe Body Spray Doesn't Even Smell That Great

I was struck today by what I feel is an illustration of a core difference between men and women.

For many years I have been searching for the perfect perfume.  Now, for a woman, this is an incredibly serious undertaking.  A scent cannot simply smell "good".  It must, in the most subtle and feminine way, say something intrinsically true and honest about a woman's spirit.  It has to be a signature in a way, so that when a woman walks through the door of a theater or restaurant or bar (or pub if you will), a man (the perfect man) will be inspired to stand up out of his seat and in the most gallant and romantic fashion introduce himself, declare his intention to get to know said woman and learn all of her mysteries and uniqueness. 

That's what goes into a woman looking for a scent.

A man can just get some Axe body spray and he's good to go.

I'm not trying to be disparaging against members (hehehe) of male-ness.  In many ways, I envy that ability, to not agonize over every little detail.  Don't get me wrong, men have their own obsessions.  Be it sports or video games or penis size, our barbaric counterparts have their own preoccupations.  At times they are even more similar to ours.  My best friend (a straight male) will spend hours on his hair.  My James' attention to detail while cleaning rivals that of any cleaning service.  My friend Jared's obsessive love of music has sent him all around the globe.  But there is always something about these preoccupations that is so completely male.  The hair and attention to detail and music - while these are all things that can be attributed to qualities women also prize - have something about them that is so masculine that I cannot call it "girl-y".  Ok, maybe the hair one is a little girl-y.

There is nothing wrong with being different.  I thank my lucky stars that James and I are so different.  If we weren't, he'd let me get away with my shit and I would be in a terrible position.  I wouldn't be able to learn more about myself, change would be difficult and painful.  Now change is just incredibly irritating.  See?  It could be worse.

Tuesday, January 11, 2011

They Also Eat Frogs In France. Nasty.

Let's face it.  From time to time, whether from accepted social morays or mother nature herself, we are forced to do things that make us incredibly unattractive.  I'm not talking about the already known, acceptable things like vomiting or picking your nose (in some cultures, this is completely accepted.  Don't ask me which ones, cause I kinda made that up.  But I am sure it's accepted somewhere.  Fuck, in France people eat snails.  That's fucked up.  I mean, snails?  Who looked at a snail and was all, "I'm gonna eat the shit outta that!"  Not me, that's who. . . . . Back to the blog.) or orgasm-ing (yeah, come on, we all look dumb when this happens, don't think you're special.  You probably look all kinds of weird when you reach that special moment.  Yeah, cause you know what, you are not a unique snowflake.  You are just like the rest of us, and the face you pull when you orgasm is silly and odd and, taken out of context, probably insulting to some tribe in the Amazon rain forest.  Just try and prove me wrong on that one.  You won't, cause then you'd have to go to the Amazon and its not the season right now.).  The forced unattractiveness that I speak of happens every day.

Come, take a journey with me . . . .  

Drinking from straws (men only) - Have you ever watched a man try to drink anything from a straw?  Whether it's straight, bendy or twisty, and no matter what said man has been talking about previously, he will always look like a girl-y man.  He could be threatening that he's coming and hell's coming with him, he could be showing off scars he got from hunting sharks or telling a large audience how we will not go quietly into the night, we will not vanish without a fight, how we're going to live, we're going to survive, that today we celebrate our Independence Day.  If as soon as  he was done doing these manly things he purses up his lips and take a sip of soda pop, all the manliness that previously occurred would be erased.

Yawning (ladies and gents) - Let's face it, no matter who you are, when you yawn, everyone looks like a freak.  Yawning takes your features, and for some reasons any negative features you might have, and highlights them.  Lets say you have large nostrils.  A yawn will make you tip your head back slightly, giving all around a a clear view up your nose, all the way to your brain, not to mention stretching your already large schnozz (sp?) out to epic proportions.  If you have cystic acne the pressure you create in your own face by yawning will make every pimple will turn bright/dark red.  And if you are just plain ugly to begin with, you run the risk of turning even Medusa to stone.  On a side not, every time I've typed the word "yawn", I have had to do so.

Chewing gum (both genders) - Ok, if you have read my previous post I Could Easy Be A Serial Killer you will think that this is personal.  Well, it is.  But when have you ever looked at a person chewing gum and thought, "Wow, that is one attractive bitch/bastard"?  Never, that's when!

Spitting (lad or lassie, but I have never seen a woman spit) - I was debating putting this lovely habit on here, because I know for many people it is acceptable.  And I do understand the impetus behind the action, especially if the subject is sick.  But there is nothing worse than admiring a handsome man out of the corner of your eye only to then have him hack out a yellow-green ball of ooze.  Even just seeing the aftermath of this awful yet innocent act is harrowing enough, but actually seeing it occur could drive you to therapy.  I mean, not literally drive.  Like, in a car.  Or a bus.  Cause loogies can't drive.  They momentarily experience the miracle of flight before crashing to the ground with a short yet pronounced "splat".  And its gross, so don't do it.

What did we learn from this blog today, guys and ghouls?  That I need to get a refill on my Adderall perscription, cause my ADD is back in full force!

O, look at the kitty!

Friday, January 7, 2011

The Moths Are Named Gerald and Steve

I hate it when I give movies and TV shows a chance and they bitterly disappoint me.

I have been sick for the last few days, so I have been mining Hulu for some decent TV shows to make the sick time pass faster.  Needless to say, my brain has been melting with the shitty TV out there. 

I started this TV show (I won't mention the name, as you know those network execs are on the lookout for any chance to sue me and the moths that populate my bank account) for two reasons.  1) Because I thought it might be an interesting take on an already established story and B) because all the seasons were on Hulu.  By the middle of the first episode I found that I had developed a tiny but throbbing ache behind my left eye.  I thought, that's you being sick, sinuses could totally be behind your eye.  By the end of the first episode, my right leg had begun alternating between involuntarily twitching and losing all feeling entirely.  I calmed down by convincing myself that I was merely having a stroke and wasn't forcing mindless crap into my brain.  In the credit sequence of the second episode I was ready to admit myself to Beth Israel.  

Its as if the shows don't even try anymore.  They seem to think that sub par acting and a shit-fest of atrocious special effects are enough to hold an audience, and unfortunately I couldn't see how this wasn't true, as the show in question was in the 3rd or 4th season. 

Ok, who remembers the old TV shows, Hercules: The Legendary Journeys and Xena: Warrior Princess?  Now, these shows were fantastic.  The stories in the episodes by themselves were solid, well formed and easy for the lay-person to grasp, and for the more advanced audience member the over-arching story line was complicated enough to keep you engaged.  The special effects were rarely over the top, even in a time period where such a practice was accepted.  And they never threw in shit effects just to throw it in.  And hey, at times there would be a cheesy line of dialogue or a bit of schm-acting, but the characters had so endeared themselves to you that it was easy forgiven.

So many shows today don't even give you the opportunity to get to know your main characters before they start throwing shit at you.  How am I supposed to be invested in a story if I don't give a crap about who's going through the pain?  

And, I am sorry, but in this day in age, shitty special effects are inexcusable.  A huge problem I see is that if a problem can't be solved in 2.5 seconds the director says, "Ah, we'll just put it in in post."  BULLSHIT!  Figure out a way to make it work, especially if you are getting your four year old with an iPad to design your stuff.  And if you can't go big, THEN DON'T.  Find a way to make the STORY engaging.  Bells and whistles are lovely, when the bells actually ring and the whistles don't make farting sounds.

 . . . . 

Ok, ok, if I got cast in a part in the shit show, I would eat it up and bask in my pay check.  Then at least my moths would have some company.

Thursday, January 6, 2011

I Am Positive About My Negativity

Today was a shitty day.

It really was.  I got some unpleasant news concerning a project I have been working on for quite some time that really got to me, laundry took forever and made it so that I couldn't go to yoga which I desperately need, a stand up gig I was told I was on the docket for hasn't gotten me any info so I have had to make other arrangements and I've been stuck in the house all day with nothing better to do that chores.

By anyone's standards, that's a shitty day.

But you know what, I will get over it.  I am not writing this as a self up, buck myself up kinda way.  No, I feel useless and overlooked at the moment and its perfectly fine that I feel this way.  Sometimes you just have to let yourself feel like someone has used you for the express purpose of beating the shit out of you.

I think we place too much emphasis in our society on being positive.  Yes, being positive is good and all, but if you don't allow yourself to feel those negative emotions that will inevitably come your way (because, come on, it's life) then all you will do is bury them until there is no where else to put them and they've gotten all rotted and festering and poisonous and the only way you can deal with them now is mass genocide.

I don't know about you, but I have enough trouble not committing murderous acts now with my feelings in halfway check.  I don't need more reason to have justifiable rage towards the world at large.

And you know what, if I feel bad, don't fucking tell me about people who have it worse.  That doesn't make me feel better.  Normally it might make me laugh, but right now it just pisses me off because you are in essence telling me that the way I am feeling is not worth your time.  If I have decided to open up to you, usually it means that I hold you in some high regard.  I won't be telling every other Tom, Dick and Harry about how I am feeling (she pontificates as she writes a public blog), and if you say, Ah well, you could have it worse, I'm going to say, No, YOU could have it worse!  Then stab you in the eye with an uncomfortable object.  Like a cat.

I have to go prepare for the odyssey that is folding laundry, so yeah.

  . . . . . .

Did you hear that witches and fortune tellers are going to be taxed in Romania?  Yeah, I didn't care either.

Wednesday, January 5, 2011

Western Medicine's Not Making A Good Case For Itself

Ladies and gentlemen, my mind is BLOWN.

We've been hearing claims for years that there is a link between autism and vaccines.  Thousands of parents opted out of getting their children vaccinated.  In 2008 there were more measles cases reported than in any year since 1997, and a study of these indicated that 90% of those who contracted measles had not been vaccinated.

Well, according to, the British study the began the anti-vaccination movement is a deliberate FRAUD.

Check it out here.

How are earth would this Dr Andrew Wakefield even consider that falsifying that kind of information wouldn't have long last negative effects?  And he didn't even do it for that much money, only $674,000!  Just so a bunch of lawyers could sue some vaccine companies.

I mean, I am just flabbergasted.  You are messing with people's health here!  It if wasn't for vaccines we would still be dealing with small pox and plague and who knows what else!

And what is even worse is that now, even by disproving this study added to the fact that no one has been able to duplicate his findings, many people are still going to have their children go without vaccines.  It even sounds like an old wives' tale - don't get vaccinated and your children won't have learning and functional disabilities.  Ranks right up there with putting a knife under the bed of a woman in labor to cut the pain in two.

That don't work.

Its good to know now that all of my problems are strictly from developmental and emotional scarring.  One less this to blame my troubles on.

Monday, January 3, 2011

How Long Before I Actually Kill Someone?

I'm pretty sure I had a thought today that solidifies my status as a horrible person.

I was walking down 41st street between 7th and 8th avenue in New York City, heading to the subway to get home to Astoria.  In front of me, a man walking briskly - the proper way to walk when in NYC.  Behind him, a rather large woman, struggling to keep up with him.  I noticed this, feeling a twinge of annoyance as she was between me and the subway and New Yorkers will tell you - do not get in our way when we have somewhere to go, it makes us angry.  However, like a good citizen of the world, I held my tongue. 

A space opened up to the side of the large woman, and I took the opportunity and passed the couple.  As I did, I heard the woman complain to the man, "Dan, you're walking really fast!"

In my head, I answered back, "Well, you're walking really fat."

I have a tendency of having smart alec-y / nasty thoughts about people as I walk down the street.  Mostly if I am on my way somewhere - an audition, a booking, a survival job - I am moving around the city ALL the time.  Invariably, there is often a slow moving humanoid in front of me.  The creature has a tendency to drift around the sidewalk at the exact same time that I am attempting to pass them.  A strange dance ensues that is accompanied by a string of profanity and nasty comments being screamed inside my head.

Hey, this is New York, I am not going to say these things out loud.  You never know when the person you are trying to pass is actually crazier than you.

The only phrase I have been saying out loud has been in direct response to people being stupid.  When I get a group of tourists walking toward me, looking up at the tall buildings (wow, they're so tall!) I will say, loudly, "Look where you're going!"  I think this is a completely sane response to people being idiots.  At least I'm not hacking at them with a machete to clear a path the subway they are blocking.  Although I have been tempted . . .

I have noticed that when I am most exhausted, my mind tirades actually become less curse-filled and more strange and personally insulting.

It was very late one night / early one morning and I was coming home after work (catering, people, I only strip on the lunch shift) and a person in front of me was blocking my way down the subway stairs.  I screamed in my head, "Out of my way, person of dubious gender!"

My next thought was how strange I hadn't included any curses.

I need to go to yoga more.

Sunday, January 2, 2011

Time To Look Into Acupuncture

So modern Western medicine has done some good.  It has.  Really.

Ok, now that's out of the way, there are some things I need to discuss.  I was watching the great god television the other day (remember, I am an ordained priestess of all religions) and a commercial came on for some kind of medication.

The idea that pharmaceutical companies are advertising their wares on TV like tinkers in the street is rather baffling to me.  I remember being a child and the only ads I totally didn't understand were perfume commercials, and lets be frank, they still don't make any sense.  

This commercial was quite cryptic.  A mid to late thirties handsome man, dressed as a firefighter stepped out from behind a fire truck (there was smoke and he was all soot-y, implying that this fine, upstanding man had just successfully fought a fire).  He proceeded to speak lines to this effect:

(I've omitted the name of the medicine, just in case someone decides to sue me and my empty bank account.)

Handsome Firefighter - "I never thought I had any problems.  Then I heard about ******.  At first I thought it was too good to be true, but then I talked to my doctor.  Now I take ****** and have never been happier.  Ask your doctor if ****** is right for you."

 . . . 

Does anyone else know what the hell ****** treats?  Is it something only for men?  Only for firefighters?  Would it apply to male and female fighters?  If I become a firefighter, do I need to ask my doctor about ******?  Do I have to be in a fire?  What if I work in a fire station, but I'm the secretary.  Does the simple proximity to firefighters put me in danger?  I pass fire stations a lot, is this a concern for me?

That's not even the worst of it.  The side affects of drugs always seems worse to me.

I have below listed the side effects for an anti-depression pill.  Tell me if one or multiple of these affects would worsen your depression, regardless of what the pill might do.
  • Depression worsens or you have unusual changes in mood, behavior or thoughts of suicide 
  • Increased risk of death or stroke 
  • Tell your doctor if you have have high fever, stiff muscles and confusion as these may be symptions of a life threatening reaction
  • Tell your doctor if you have uncontrollable muscle movements as they could become permanent 
  • Has been known to case high blood sugar - in some cases extreme high blood pressure that can lead to coma or death 
  • Other risks include dizzyness upon standing, impaired judgement or motor skills and trouble swallowing 
The best you could say to say to yourself after this is at least you don't have sudden, uncontrollable diarrhea.  

I saw a commercial recently that listed one of the side effects as unusual dreams.  How the crap can you tell if a dream is unusual or not?  My dream last night was my dad and I floating above a rooftop as we recited "O Captain My Captain" for Paul Bettany.  That's pretty unusual to me.
I tell you, the kind of dream that would freak me out would be me running errands at Duane Reade, coming home to look over my finances and feeding the cats.