So … yeah I wrote something, but the problem was that I wrote it, actually wrote it by hand, and it was far too difficult to transcribe…… so I thought I would draw you a cartoon about the dynamic of my household.

PLEASE CLICK ME!! I AM AWESOME

I’m currently working on another post, a real post, a well-thought-out post, and I assure you it is of the awesome quality you the reader have come to expect from me.  Until then, however, I thought I would amuse you with this morning’s commute to work.

Being in the the suburbs and nowhere near the city, 7:30 a.m. is peak commute time for a great many.  It is very possible to watch two or three buses pass by my stop packed full of people on their pre-journey to the daily grind only for the following bus to be “standing room only.” This happened to me today.  As I piled onto the crowded yellow bus I was the luckiest of the unlucky – based on sheer positioning of the sardine can – who had the option of perching on the step leading to the back seats if I so desired.  I desired.  I’m not proud, but it’s a forty five minute ride into the city ¹ and my bag is heavy with a capital heave.

As I sat there on the grody germ-filled stoop staring out the window, I noticed a bookshop sign; plain block letters, but the “O” was tilted to the side, adding the slightest bit of whimsy.  I asked myself, why did a bookstore need whimsy–

SQUERREEAAAALLL!!!

The bus driver breaks suddenly, lunging the standing commuters forward.  Myself, not actually being in a seat of any kind, hurtled forward, almost airborne, straight towards the female ass in front of me. 

Time slowed.  I had enough time to form well articulated thoughts — well, at least thoughts of any kind — about the situation I found myself in.  I knew three things for certain, at this point.

1. The woman ahead of me wears leggings to work.
2. She does this because she clearly works out her glutes.
3. My face was going to make contact with said derriere.

But then, it didn’t.  I felt something tugging on my pants, preventing  me from going further forward.  An angel perhaps?  No, not quite.  The man in the real seat next to me had instinctively reached out and grabbed me by both sides of the jeans and pulled me back onto the step.  The man — somewhere between middle-aged and oldish – smiled back at me. 

“You were falling.”

He said this in a way that implited that if he hadn’t I might not have realized what event had just befallen me.  Who knows, I might have even crashed completely to the ground and not known have known that it had happened. 

I thanked him and clung for the nearest pole.

Moral of the story?  Perhaps it is that we all need a little whimsy in our lives.  Or at the very least, an old guy.

___

Tags: hillsbus, public embarrasment, public transportation misfortune

Today I am taking the lazy post out by reposting someone else’s post, but I assure you this is better than anything I could have put together myself.

Screenwriter John August writes why it’s important to have a general education before a specialized one and why Ron Weasley is more than likely illiterate.

Follow this link or check it out on my Articles page.  And don’t be lazy just because I didn’t post it in it’s entirety for you.  It’s one click, dude.

Tags: Education, Harry Potter, John August

This week, articles around the UK and the rest of the world hit stands — and webpages — that the Queen herself has gotten a Facebook account. It details that though she now is on the most popular social networking site on the interwebs, certain decorum will still be followed.  It seems that actions like poking and tagging drunken photos are out of the question as Her Majesty ¹ plans to use the page as a way to post updates and news about the Monarchical Family and Royal Etcetera.

I don’t buy it.  Not that she has an account, I believe that part, but  I don’t really understand the new, wide sweeping notion that Facebook is a legitimate form of advertising and promotion.  Facebook is just….Facebook.  And I like it that way.  The following are the top five REAL reasons to get a Facebook account.  Okay, so it’s my top five reasons for having Facebook, but I think they might be a little bit more universal that people are willing to admit to themselves.

1. To show off my new haircut. Because let’s face it, I’m a vain insecurity who needs constant praise and reassurance.
2. To make quasi-witty insights about the universe in my status update to prompt people to say “wow, how wittingly insightful, she is awesome.”  In actuality, I probably probably poached the idea from a celebrity twitter account or a standup comedian.
3. To stalk people who made fun of me in school. Teen flicks assured me there would be karmic retribution that would make my attackers balding, fat, and unsuccessful.  I check on this weekly. It has yet to happen.  Those mutha-effers keep getting more cool.
4. To openly judge those who play stupid simulator games ² because of their pointlessness. But, (not so) secretly I play them myself.
5. To find old photos of myself. Though there have been leaps and bounds in digital photography, there is still a solution gap of where to store the snapshots.  Some are on one computer, some are on my laptop, some are scattered over sixteen memory cards, and three are printed out. However, I know there’s always in one place my embarrassing life moments will be stored forever: Facebook.

Take that your majesty.

______

Tags: facebook, uses of facebook

I just applied for a job that requires attention to detail. Just after I clicked the submit button I noticed that the job site had the wrong resume stored in my account. It was my old resume from the last time I was out on my ass looking for jobs. I swear to god I changed it yesterday, but alas, there was May’s resume, mocking me.

Alanis may call it ironic, but I call it most unfortunate.

Tags: bad luck, irony, things that aren't ironic

I love nothing more than a musical montage to a upbeat song, preferably from the ’80s or ’90s.

The following is an exceptionally well edited montage of film dancing to “Footloose.”  It’s pretty damn entertaining, and who ever did it should quit their day job and start emailing MTV or some post production houses.  The timing and choices are spot on.

I wonder what it is about a good montage that makes me so happy. I mean, song choice is essential, but I think it might have something to do with the inherent narrative that squeaks through, whether it be embedded in a movie or just a YouTube clip.

Tags: dance montage, dancing, footloose, movie montages

My parents got divorced when I was twenty, so truly, I didn’t really get the experience of “split custody” like so many children have the pleasure of having to go through.  I do, however, like to dramatically blurt “I come from a broken home” wherever possible.  Ask my parents, the do love that one so, I know this because of the eye roll that I’m given in direct response.

The best feeling I ever experience is when someone laughs at one of my jokes. It has something to do with the eg0-stroking that comes with.  I’m nothing, if not a humble walking ego.

So, the upside of having two houses to bounce back and forth to is that it gives me ample times to work on my jokes.  If I tell a knee slapper at Dad’s, sure as sunshine I’ll be working that one into conversation the next time I see Mom.  If I come up with a witty turn of phrase in the shower you can put money I’ll rehearse it in my head so that it will come out perfectly natural at the dinner table.  It’s worth the planning and contriving to get the room chuckling.

I find that gross hyperbole works best with my crowd, they aren’t really a “chicken walks into a bar” kind of crowd, but start bellowing about the labors of grocery shopping or movie ticket prices and I’m in. The more my stories wind up, the funnier they get.  If not, a one liner will generally do the trick in a pinch. Hopefully revealing this will not make them less appealing next time I have a good story to tell…twice.

With a hard, trying thing like divorce, it’s all about the silver lining.  I found mine. Oh yes, I’m a regular standup comedian.

Tags: divorce, family, jokes

Just got off of a fourteen-hour flight from Australia to Los Angeles.  I’m halfway back to my home state of South Carolina.  The flight fell in a really odd time where the fourteen hours were right in the peak of my bodyclock’s daytime, so I snoozed for a generous rounding-up of one hour.  We’re talking the kind of time frame that primed me for bedtime right as we were touching down.  I’m currently in LAX airport with a strong coffee and bags under my eyes.

(I hope I can get through this without falling asleep, I’m starting to get blurred vision.  Though FINALLY a semi-valid excuse for typos)

So, what did I do to occupy my time?  Mostly, peed a lot ¹ and watched movies.  The movie selection wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t great either.  I ended up seeing a couple semi-new-ish movies that I had been curious about and a couple I didn’t really have an opinion on one way or the other (until now).

My List (in viewing order, may contain spoilers)

1. The Joneses
2. Precious
3. The Bounty Hunter
4. Babies
5. Just Wright

The Joneses

I like clever plays on popular memes and Demi Moore, so this wasn’t a bad pick for my first choice.  If I only knew it was setting the tone for the mediocrity for my following inflight experience.

“Stealth Marketing” is the name of the game where Demi Moore and David Duchonvy along with two teens form a fake family who are paid to move into a neighborhood and advertise various trends by being really really cool.  Look at my sweet Audi and new phone and awesome clothes, you should buy them too, look how happy they make us, we’re the perfect family. Etcetera.

It was a decent premise and a good enough story that was actually a lot more dramatic than I would have pegged, however, it copped out in the end by taking the easy ‘romance triumphs’ subplot.  I have no problems with such subplots, but it wasn’t really the dramatic question of the movie so I felt it inappropriate.  It wasn’t “Will Mulder get with Ashton’s wife” but “can the rookie perform and the fake family achieve the status that they all so desperately want?”  Or something to that effect.   It’s fine that Mr. Jones realizes in the end that this isn’t the life that he wanted to lead, but him wooing the ice cold Missus with him was a bit lame.  But otherwise enjoyable.

I rank this as ’3′ of the night.  Day.  Something.

Precious

Wow, just wow.  It was as heartbreaking and as beautiful as it promised to be.  The supporting cast was brilliant and Monique played a terrific monster.  It hammered away at my soul for two straight hours, but it was well worth it.

All I have to say is, fine, make her a rape/incest victim, give her two children by her own father, one of which has Downs Syndrome, let her mother physically and verbally abuse her and her children, ² make her illiterate, but then to make her HIV positive to boot?  Wow, movie-makers are jerks.

My favorite of the flight, but only by a hair.

The Bounty Hunter

Whoever would have thought that the movie entitled “The Bounty Hunter” would be romance comedy (and I do use the word “comedy” loosely).

Let’s be frank, this movie was shit.

It went exactly where you would expect it to, just the way you guessed it would – which I’m not necessarily opposed to on principle, but it tried so hard to be funny and wasn’t and the characters were downright unlikeable.  Gerard Butler wins the award for being the silver-screen’s largest douchebag.

Two characters who hate each other and have no chemistry end up together, and for what reason?  Hell if I know.  Butler’s character is clearly a moron.  The couple supposedly got married after six months of dating and they fought the whole time and then got divorced.  There was a reason for that last part.  They were terrible together and though I certainly didn’t know it by watching it, apparently they spent the hour and a half growing reluctantly fond of each other.  You could have fooled me, the only reason I know that is because they kissed in the end.

To make things worse they had a slapstick caricature stalker of Jennifer Aniston’s character and they threw in a ‘dirty cop cover-up scandal’ action subplot to pad out the ninety minutes.

This was the most perfunctory writing and storytelling I have witnessed in a long time, and I have a high tolerance for that sort of thing.

Least favorite of the night.  And I’m Team Aniston.

Babies

Babies! What can I say? This was adorable.  A beautiful documentary that I highly recommend.  It follows for infants (one from Mongolia, Africa, Japan and the USA) for the first year (ish) of their lives.  It has no dialogue and focuses entirely on the babies.  We hardly get glimpses of the parents’ faces at all, it’s all about how the infants interact with their surroundings/world/situation.  Brilliant storytelling and really gripping for two hours worth of babies wallering on the ground.  Everyone go rent it.

This came very close to being my favorite for the night.

Just Wright

Another default Rom Com.  Rich basketball player is injured and unwittingly falls for the tomboy, die-hard fan, who is his physical therapist.  Unoffensive and watchable, plus Queen Latifah.   Though, I could only guess that they got together in the end, we landed right in the middle of Prince Charming’s big speech, so I don’t know Latifah’s answer.  Maybe there was a twist that I didn’t see coming.

Side note, this was the second movie during this marathon that co-starred Paula Patton.  In this film she played Queen Latifah’s sexy gets-all-the-boys cousin and in Precious she played the eponymous characters’ role model and teacher.  God she is hot.

This movie slots happily into number ’4.’

I’m not foreseeing the domestic legs having my own personal television sets, so who knows what I’m in store for on the next leg.

_____

Tags: babies, babies documentary, demi moore, flying, international travel, jennifer aniston, jet lag, just wright, Movies, precious, precious the movie, queen latifah, South Carolina, the bounty hunter, the joneses

The power.

Just think about it: there is a small yet earnest number of people who honestly believe that Satan himself personally sent me and my kind to earth to destroy the morally sound humans of this mortal coil.  And that number is ever expanding.

What if, just what if, they are right?

What if my very existence is single-handedly destroying people lives?  I don’t even have to do anything that directly affects the lives of others, just being harms them and their way of life.  I can go to the mailbox and fetch my bills and BAM three Evangelicals I take down with me. A trip to the gym?  By merely running on a treadmill I can crumble a Republican’s marriage. Grocery shopping?  WHAMMO! A basket of kittens destroyed beneath my feet.

What other demographic can wield such destruction? The answer?  None.

There was a time where these same people believed that black people were less than human, but they, subhumans, did not have the benefit of holding the power to send others to hell simply by looking at them.  No, thinking about them!

Just think.  What if these haters are right?  I can be the queen and the humans my playthings.

Tags: evil homosexual., Gay, Homosexuals, pride, Republicans

Okay, by “meet” I mean, of course, “sitting in a crowd listening to a speech” and by “maker” I mean “the guy I really really like,” but that’s what it felt like yesterday when I went to see Joss Whedon speak at Sydney’s Opera House.  This is the guy who wrote the show that changed how I viewed and still view television. Buffy the Vampire Slayer was the first show that I watched and then actually retained.  I mean, there were shows that I liked and watched frequently, but it always went in one ear and out the other, but Buffy was different - it’s hard to explain and it’s a story for another day, but all I know is that I’m grateful it happened.

I didn’t know what to expect going into this thing yesterday. I figured he was going to talk about how cool it was to do the stuff he does and then he was going to be grilled embarrassingly by over-zealous zealots he calls “fans.” I have some friends who saw him in Melbourne the night or two before and said that he was charming and intelligent (which was no surprise) but the host they had didn’t facilitate well. Even though I believe we had a different host, I thought the worst that could happen is that we’d have a douche up on stage showing his ass, but  I mean, a bad host is better than no Joss at all.

We were warned right.  Will Anderson, a local comedian, was a crude and disrespectful facilitaor.  Not that I think he meant to be, as I understand it, he is quite the fan, but he wore flip flops and swore a lot.  Sometimes there were awkward pauses in conversation where the audience and Mr. Whedon were like “ehwha?”  Not to mention he would occassionally interrupt the guest of honor to get his own less funny quip in.  That said…

…then there was Joss.

And oh boy, was there Joss.  He came out on stage with a bang.  Smoke and blue light brought a silhouette out into the shape of a man; a hero to so many. Then he started to speak.  The fact that he was just talking several yards away from me made the fangirl in me want to piddle in excitement.  At that point he could do no wrong.  Then, something brilliant happened.  He said that he was going to talk about something different this time around, that he wasn’t going to give the stock standard speech about networks and little trivia about the shows that we could find out anywhere on the internet, he was instead going to talk about himself and what made him tick.

Oh. Em. Gee.

That. Just. Happened.

It was amazing.  He got really intimate.  He spoke about his childhood and his fears growing up and what scared him and what his “dark place” was.  He said before he never knew why he wrote teenaged girls with superpowers.  He always just thought they were cool, but something must have been asked at the Melbourne talk that made him think because he said that the last few days has put some things into place for him.  Yes, he will always write about teenaged girls with superpowers, but more than that, he will always write about hopelessness.  He said that these young girls he wrote were his avatar because he is a small scared man that will always need to be saved. Wowza.

Ah, now, that is interesting.  He said that he was always frightened, helpless, and alone.  He talked about his father and how he was scared of his disapproving scowl ¹ and how if you dropped him three blocks from his house and turned him around twice, he would likely die of exposure.  There was a vulnerability and a truth to what he was saying that I have never heard from him in any interview or DVD extra.  It was amazing.  Amazing is not the best, most articulate way to express that, but it’s all I got. There was something very human but still “Joss is God” like about him as he continued to talk.

When he spoke about himself and his eccentricities it was amazing how much I related to him.  I know that must sound pompous, but I can’t help it. When he spoke about a plain, uneventful, childhood unworthy of a memoir and his social inability to speak to people, especially women, and I was there with him.  When he said that he said he wanted to be everything, to do everything; to paint, to write, to draw, to dance, to play in a band — but then only got good enough to then quit, I wanted to jump out of my seat and shout ‘amen.’ When he said that he was not scared to be alone but often was, I empathized wholeheartedly, thinking about the little study I have made for myself that no one is allowed in. And when he said “I will never be less than a storyteller,”  and spoke with a subtle, non-pretentious passion that oozed from ever pore, I was inspired and filled with hope.  It was so moving that I didn’t want it to end.

But it did.  Will Anderson came back on to try to be funnier than him and the mics were opened up to the audience to ask the equivalent of “what was your favorite childhood toy and why?” ²  I just wanted to scream at them all and get Joss to keep talking about whatever it was he wanted to say – politics, religion, shoe polish, anything – but alas, that would have been really awkward and Joss would have looked at me funny, so I allowed it to continue on course.

I did not expect to be a giant fangirl about this.  I thought it would just be something fun and cool to say, like I mentioned, he was the guy who started it all. Showing up was the only way I could show my gratitude.  I’m now so glad that I went, I got so much more out of it than ever thought possible.

____

Tags: Buffy, fan talk, Joss Whedon, Joss Whedon appearance, Joss Whedon talk, Sydney Opera House