I haven't posted anything for a few days, and I have a very good reason. The best reason of all, actually. I have not posted anything because I have been, simply put, too damn lazy. I apologize, my babies (of which there are now 3!). The fracking neighbor is singing. Again. I believe I have now been treated to "There You'll Be", "Love Story", and "Somebody to Love". I can't be sure, since the songs she (I've decided I don't care about protecting my abuser anymore) sings are all melting together due to the shitty-ness of her voice. It's all off-key high notes to me. Am thinking of purchasing a karaoke machine and warbling "(If You Can't Sing It) You'll Have to Swing It" over and over, in tribute to the fact that not only is my neighbor a horrendous singer, BUT she is also a swing dancer, apparently. She sucks at that too, I would imagine.
I have a beef with a certain college I live near. I feel that maybe I have just had bad experiences with the students who attend said college, but all the same, I've developed the opinion that the people who go there are self-centered brats with pacifiers stuck firmly in their mouths.
I take a certain way to work, and it requires me to drive past the dorms of this college. Every single time I do this, no matter what time of day it is, someone is parked in the middle of the street. They aren't unloading or loading things. They're just sitting there with the hazards on. It's annoying, since the road is A) not that big to begin with and B) made smaller by the fact that people park on both sides of the street. If someone then double parks, there's next to no room to drive by, which makes me want to commit a drive-by.
Also, my neighbors attend this college. They strike me as... potentially socially retarded... If that's too un-PC then apologies, but who does karaoke in their apartment on a Tuesday afternoon? As far as I can tell, there's just one person singing, which suggests that she is alone in her apartment, singing (off-key) to herself. I refuse to believe she's in a choir, so I can't figure out why she insists on tormenting those around her. Oh yay! Kelly Clarkson's "Since You've Been Gone"! Sung with no feeling! AND SO FRACKING OFF KEY I WANT TO PERFORM A LOBOTOMY ON MYSELF! please help me.... Bee, you understand my pain!
So, yeah. I try not to judge, but these girls make it easy. Anyways, enough about that. I have a (possibly) special treat coming up: a short story I've been working on! Yay! Can I just break for a moment and say that I love pretending that anything I write in here is gripping to those few people who actually read it? It's funny to me to act as though a short story by me will have as much impact as the next Neil Gaiman work.
Returning to my previous thought, the story is a little dark (keeping in line with just about every piece of fiction I've ever written) but hopefully it's not a total pile of shit. When it's posted, I welcome critiques and comments, but please, be gentle. So...that's it for now, I guess. Until we meet again: keep it clean, kiddies!
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Musing's what I do best
Whilst watching a wonderful webisode of "Weeds" (wooo, those W's be the end of me), I began thinking about certain singers who should be actresses. I only have two in mind at the moment, but I strongly feel that these two could find themselves solidly employed if they took up acting.
1. Alanis Morissette, "Dogma", "Weeds" Season 5. I'll admit that I, like countless other young angsty souls in the mid-90's, fell under the spell that was "Jagged Little Pill". I will also admit heartily enjoying tracks off of her later offerings "Under Rug Swept" and "So-Called Chaos". But as much as I appreciate her music, it is, at least for this blogger, her acting that really steals the show, so to speak. Admittedly, she has all of one line ("Meep!) in "Dogma", but it seemed to me even then that she wasn't just phoning in her performance and allowing her celebrity status to define the role (though to me, it's slightly genius to have a women who sang about blow-jobs in movie theaters portray God). In "Weeds", there is definitely evidence of a woman who knows she is not just there for her "Hey! I know her!" appeal. Her performance is understated, to be sure, but that's exactly why it's so special. It seems to me that most of the time, when a guest star is on camera, they fill the screen with their presence, even though the show is, literally, not about them. I don't know if I would go so far as to suggest that Ms. Morissette could carry a movie or show all by her lonesome, but as part of an ensemble cast, she would be stellar.
2. Courtney Love, "200 Cigarettes", "Man on the Moon". Once again, I have to admit an appreciation for one album to which Ms. Love contributed: "Celebrity Skin" by Hole. Shut up, haters. I was in 7th grade, and that album, along with Garbage's "Version 2.0", got me through the cess-pool that is middle school. Also, I still love the song "Malibu" off that CD. So again, shut it. Anyway, "200 Cigarettes" is an odd movie, but the acting's solid all around, and Courtney's role as Lucy is great. Pretty sure Courtney Love is certifiable in real life, but she manages to tone it down for this role, letting just enough of her couldn't-care-less attitude shine through to give the character, who might have come off as desperate, a little bit of edge. In "Man on the Moon", she plays Andy Kaufman's love interest, Lynne. I love her in this film. She's very real and lacking in any traces of celebrity pompousness. Love. It.
There have to be other examples of singers who really should consider career moves. I can think of tons who've tried and failed, but I refuse to dip my toes into waters where so many others have swum. What could I possibly say about "Glitter" that a million plus people have not said already? Nothing, peeps. Nothing. Plus, thinking of those singers who need to try acting more is a little more difficult. If anyone actually read this, I would expect my comment section to be flooded with examples of people I've missed, as well as the usual "You're so right!"/"You're dead wrong!" comments.
Super Happy Fun Time! Today I've decided to go with waking up to quiet thunderstorms. It's only happened a couple of times to me, but it is amazing. I can't imagine anyone not enjoying the soft sound of rain hitting pavement in the morning, but when combined with a quiet rumbling of thunder, it's (dare I say it? Yes.) magical. Maybe it's just me, but there are just some mornings when nothing but a nearly pitch-black sky, covered in rain-heavy clouds, will do. Those will never be days when I get a ton of stuff done, but there's something to be said for lazy days. See my last post about passive aggressiveness. Maybe "calling in well" is really the key to saving humanity? But I digress. Super Happy Fun Time... COMPLETE!
1. Alanis Morissette, "Dogma", "Weeds" Season 5. I'll admit that I, like countless other young angsty souls in the mid-90's, fell under the spell that was "Jagged Little Pill". I will also admit heartily enjoying tracks off of her later offerings "Under Rug Swept" and "So-Called Chaos". But as much as I appreciate her music, it is, at least for this blogger, her acting that really steals the show, so to speak. Admittedly, she has all of one line ("Meep!) in "Dogma", but it seemed to me even then that she wasn't just phoning in her performance and allowing her celebrity status to define the role (though to me, it's slightly genius to have a women who sang about blow-jobs in movie theaters portray God). In "Weeds", there is definitely evidence of a woman who knows she is not just there for her "Hey! I know her!" appeal. Her performance is understated, to be sure, but that's exactly why it's so special. It seems to me that most of the time, when a guest star is on camera, they fill the screen with their presence, even though the show is, literally, not about them. I don't know if I would go so far as to suggest that Ms. Morissette could carry a movie or show all by her lonesome, but as part of an ensemble cast, she would be stellar.
2. Courtney Love, "200 Cigarettes", "Man on the Moon". Once again, I have to admit an appreciation for one album to which Ms. Love contributed: "Celebrity Skin" by Hole. Shut up, haters. I was in 7th grade, and that album, along with Garbage's "Version 2.0", got me through the cess-pool that is middle school. Also, I still love the song "Malibu" off that CD. So again, shut it. Anyway, "200 Cigarettes" is an odd movie, but the acting's solid all around, and Courtney's role as Lucy is great. Pretty sure Courtney Love is certifiable in real life, but she manages to tone it down for this role, letting just enough of her couldn't-care-less attitude shine through to give the character, who might have come off as desperate, a little bit of edge. In "Man on the Moon", she plays Andy Kaufman's love interest, Lynne. I love her in this film. She's very real and lacking in any traces of celebrity pompousness. Love. It.
There have to be other examples of singers who really should consider career moves. I can think of tons who've tried and failed, but I refuse to dip my toes into waters where so many others have swum. What could I possibly say about "Glitter" that a million plus people have not said already? Nothing, peeps. Nothing. Plus, thinking of those singers who need to try acting more is a little more difficult. If anyone actually read this, I would expect my comment section to be flooded with examples of people I've missed, as well as the usual "You're so right!"/"You're dead wrong!" comments.
Super Happy Fun Time! Today I've decided to go with waking up to quiet thunderstorms. It's only happened a couple of times to me, but it is amazing. I can't imagine anyone not enjoying the soft sound of rain hitting pavement in the morning, but when combined with a quiet rumbling of thunder, it's (dare I say it? Yes.) magical. Maybe it's just me, but there are just some mornings when nothing but a nearly pitch-black sky, covered in rain-heavy clouds, will do. Those will never be days when I get a ton of stuff done, but there's something to be said for lazy days. See my last post about passive aggressiveness. Maybe "calling in well" is really the key to saving humanity? But I digress. Super Happy Fun Time... COMPLETE!
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
First post. I'm a little intimidated by the big, empty, white space where my thoughts are supposed to go and by the blinking cursor, which seems to be getting impatient with my hesitation to write anything. Ah-ha! My topic has just driven down the driveway.
My downstairs neighbor likes to sing. I like music. I like being serenaded. I applaud those who sing even though they have no talent, because they have courage that I do not. But this particular chanteuse/chanteur is the exception. He (or she)* does not merit shouts of "Bravo" or a standing ovation for their bravery. I instead find myself searching for a tomato, an empty tuna can, a boot or some other item to throw. I mentioned the above items because it seems to me that, whenever someone throws something in movies/TV (particularly in cartoons), it is one of the three items listed above. Makes you wonder. Anyways, the shrillness of this person's voice makes my skin crawl, and I am often forced to wonder how they can't recognize the fact that they are constantly off key.
I don't sing. I can't sing. I refuse to assault others' ears with my warbling, and I feel that this decision is my greatest gift to humanity. The fact is, my singing can be used for one thing and one thing only: stopping an attack by giant, murderous tomatoes, or aliens, or chupacabras.** It stinks. But I recognize this. I really need to find a passive-aggressive way to alert my neighbor to the fact that he/she could literally mutilate a kitten with their vocal stylings, but in such a way that they don't know it's me doing it.
Which leads me to my next topic: passive aggressiveness. I am a fan of it, in part because it's so annoying. I've come across an increasing number of sites devoted to examples of passive aggressive behavior, and the consensus seems to be that it's awesome when you're the one being P.A., but it's damned obnoxious if you're on the receiving end. My theory on the increase in passive aggressive behavior is as follows, and it's not scientific, and I have not done any research to back it up, save for my periodic viewing of the sites mentioned earlier: People are wound tighter than they have ever been before in the entire history of mankind, even when they were being chased by dinosaurs on a daily basis.*** It's become a society where people aren't being pushed to the brink of insanity every day, but they instead have built permanent settlements on the brink. It's home now, this place. Little houses, built on toothpicks, perched precariously on the edge. It goes without saying that it doesn't take much to knock these things over.
SO. People can't cope with additional stressors anymore; when faced with even the tiniest bit of additional stress, people lose their fuggin' minds. Hence, passive aggressiveness. It's a survival mechanism. No one wants to be the guy (or girl) who decided to call out the guy line-cutting, only to have him turn around and blast everyone away, Matrix-style.**** Instead, they sigh loudly ("Hhhhhhh!"), or make comments ("Nah, it's cool, I was standing here to admire the scenery."), or, my personal favorite, glare daggers (..."Shz-z-z-z-z" [the sound of eye-daggers whizzing through the air]). What's so funny about glaring is that people have a tendency to either open their eyes extra wide and furrow their brows until they resemble the sorcerer from "The Sorcerer's Apprentice" in "Fantasia" (the one with Mickey?) OR squint until it looks like they're just trying to read a sign by their intended victim's head. I feel that it would be more effective to alternate doing both. Bug eyes! Squint. Bug eyes! Squint. It will, if nothing else, get the point across to everyone else that you are a crazy mother-fucker who is not to be trifled with!
So...yeah. Enough about that. It bores me now. Since there's little to no chance that anyone is actually going to be reading this... it's Super Happy Fun Time! This is the part of the blog in which I describe, in detail, something which I like. Today's selection is making smiley faces out of food. It brings me a joy I can't describe. Nothing in the world makes me so happy, not even watching old episodes of "Clarissa Explains It All". I once made a pork loin sandwich for a woman at my old job with no bun. She wanted lettuce, onions, pickles and mayo on it. I made pickle-eyes, a mayo-mouth, and onion-eyebrows. It looked overjoyed to be a sandwich. I thought the customer would like it. She didn't say a word when I set it in front of her. Not one. I very nearly took it back, but refrained. I've regretted it ever since. Hmm. Super Happy Fun Time didn't have its intended effect today. Perhaps tomorrow....
*Gender has been left ambiguous to protect the tone-deaf innocent. But you know who you are....
**The aliens and chupacabras need not be giant, just murderous. It makes my ability to slay them with just a quick run-through of "Without You" much more impressive if they are larger than 6 feet tall, however.
*** For those not familiar with their history, this period occurred between 1540 and 1678, until the invention of the Super-Duper-Dino-Shredder.
****Does this ever really happen? Has anyone ever really gone ape-shit over getting called out? I feel like this might just be an urban legend.
My downstairs neighbor likes to sing. I like music. I like being serenaded. I applaud those who sing even though they have no talent, because they have courage that I do not. But this particular chanteuse/chanteur is the exception. He (or she)* does not merit shouts of "Bravo" or a standing ovation for their bravery. I instead find myself searching for a tomato, an empty tuna can, a boot or some other item to throw. I mentioned the above items because it seems to me that, whenever someone throws something in movies/TV (particularly in cartoons), it is one of the three items listed above. Makes you wonder. Anyways, the shrillness of this person's voice makes my skin crawl, and I am often forced to wonder how they can't recognize the fact that they are constantly off key.
I don't sing. I can't sing. I refuse to assault others' ears with my warbling, and I feel that this decision is my greatest gift to humanity. The fact is, my singing can be used for one thing and one thing only: stopping an attack by giant, murderous tomatoes, or aliens, or chupacabras.** It stinks. But I recognize this. I really need to find a passive-aggressive way to alert my neighbor to the fact that he/she could literally mutilate a kitten with their vocal stylings, but in such a way that they don't know it's me doing it.
Which leads me to my next topic: passive aggressiveness. I am a fan of it, in part because it's so annoying. I've come across an increasing number of sites devoted to examples of passive aggressive behavior, and the consensus seems to be that it's awesome when you're the one being P.A., but it's damned obnoxious if you're on the receiving end. My theory on the increase in passive aggressive behavior is as follows, and it's not scientific, and I have not done any research to back it up, save for my periodic viewing of the sites mentioned earlier: People are wound tighter than they have ever been before in the entire history of mankind, even when they were being chased by dinosaurs on a daily basis.*** It's become a society where people aren't being pushed to the brink of insanity every day, but they instead have built permanent settlements on the brink. It's home now, this place. Little houses, built on toothpicks, perched precariously on the edge. It goes without saying that it doesn't take much to knock these things over.
SO. People can't cope with additional stressors anymore; when faced with even the tiniest bit of additional stress, people lose their fuggin' minds. Hence, passive aggressiveness. It's a survival mechanism. No one wants to be the guy (or girl) who decided to call out the guy line-cutting, only to have him turn around and blast everyone away, Matrix-style.**** Instead, they sigh loudly ("Hhhhhhh!"), or make comments ("Nah, it's cool, I was standing here to admire the scenery."), or, my personal favorite, glare daggers (..."Shz-z-z-z-z" [the sound of eye-daggers whizzing through the air]). What's so funny about glaring is that people have a tendency to either open their eyes extra wide and furrow their brows until they resemble the sorcerer from "The Sorcerer's Apprentice" in "Fantasia" (the one with Mickey?) OR squint until it looks like they're just trying to read a sign by their intended victim's head. I feel that it would be more effective to alternate doing both. Bug eyes! Squint. Bug eyes! Squint. It will, if nothing else, get the point across to everyone else that you are a crazy mother-fucker who is not to be trifled with!
So...yeah. Enough about that. It bores me now. Since there's little to no chance that anyone is actually going to be reading this... it's Super Happy Fun Time! This is the part of the blog in which I describe, in detail, something which I like. Today's selection is making smiley faces out of food. It brings me a joy I can't describe. Nothing in the world makes me so happy, not even watching old episodes of "Clarissa Explains It All". I once made a pork loin sandwich for a woman at my old job with no bun. She wanted lettuce, onions, pickles and mayo on it. I made pickle-eyes, a mayo-mouth, and onion-eyebrows. It looked overjoyed to be a sandwich. I thought the customer would like it. She didn't say a word when I set it in front of her. Not one. I very nearly took it back, but refrained. I've regretted it ever since. Hmm. Super Happy Fun Time didn't have its intended effect today. Perhaps tomorrow....
*Gender has been left ambiguous to protect the tone-deaf innocent. But you know who you are....
**The aliens and chupacabras need not be giant, just murderous. It makes my ability to slay them with just a quick run-through of "Without You" much more impressive if they are larger than 6 feet tall, however.
*** For those not familiar with their history, this period occurred between 1540 and 1678, until the invention of the Super-Duper-Dino-Shredder.
****Does this ever really happen? Has anyone ever really gone ape-shit over getting called out? I feel like this might just be an urban legend.
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