30 March 2012

0 march: a revue



"bows and arrows caused everyone to be out of sorts."

"my canadian penpal birnsy's irish friend's irish friend."

"homosexuality isn't santa."

"there is a sad lack of kirk cameron news today. this has forced me to confront the fact that he has recently been the highlight of my days."

"i'm glad to hear feeling is returning to your feet. i was deeply concerned about the potential of frostbite in this 40 degree weather."

"OH! she is blah! i know blah!"

"your use of an emoticon relays the significance of the situation."
"you know, i think that emoticon was more indicative of my enthusiasm for getting up to pee after finishing that sentence than of my desire for therapy."

"the best part by far is the non-linear follow-up facebook message."

"i just got so giddy over her arms that i forgot to look at her boobs."

"when did we age out of boob-envy into arm-envy?"

"who exactly were the couples of 90210?"

"like, i could take that much money, and spend it on something so… not natural. i dunno."
"you DID have all your leg hair removed in 2004. just saying."

"i honestly do not see how that can get any better."

"remember your lent! you promised to JESUS."

"i’d, like, hike them back up. or something."
"i'm very curious about what the 'or something' would be in this context."

"i feel like that should be a new party game... come up with some crazy sentence, to be followed up with 'it was like niagra falls came to town.'"

"i’ma say it: last night, i rocked at being a mom. usually that is not the case."

"things that are true- nugget trays are not cheap."

"i love that it involved butter."

"how do you feel about the word 'guac'? this seems like something that would be offensive to your ears."

"and will you be making out with people while there?"

"my exploded microwave still hasn't been discarded, so the dishwasher will obviously have to wait its turn."

"in a very non-paula deen way, of course."

"tell me about your snacks!"

"it's maybe not the best thing to be kissing strange men on park benches."
"mother, that makes me sound like a hooker! and it was by the river, not on the park bench."

"it could be a new musical: 'So Many Things Happened While I Was In Warsaw!'"

"dammit, kotacka. now i want a hot dog."

"but, as many a gay man has sung before me, i will survive!"

"i think a full half of THE ENTIRE WORLD would like to work with his penis."

"i just need you to know- i'm awesome at elections."
"so i feel all cute and full of guacamole."

" i suppose it's time to admit. i'm a 30-year-old single woman. yes, i have sex toys."

"my theory is that all the cobblestones are simply my people's way of getting back at all the other peoples who felt it necessary to rule over them for all those centuries: 'come visit/invade/overrule our beautiful country/sovereign nation/democratically elected government? sure, but then we will make your/your children's/your grandchildren's shoes and calves pay.'"

"so...the polish just went and took it?"

"i feel that is a sentence that would not make my mother proud."

"please describe your bagels with detail."

"we are EXPERIENCING things! with you!"

"what an incredibly disappointing lack of soup!"

" try to wear something that won't result in your boobs hanging out, because while you have every right to wear such things and expect to be treated with dignity while doing so, maybe at this juncture you may be better served by a more conservative neckline."

"how does one find a sex toy? google?"

"it has almost been 2 years since THE STRAWBERRY CAKE OF OUR LIVES. this is not right."

"i was thinking today, do you realize we’re less than 1 year away from having known each other for TWENTY YEARS? you entered my life in January of ’93, correct?"

"i forget that our parents’ generation relies WAY more on taste than health."

"first the opera and now being a board member? i'm not sure we can be friends. you may have just matured far out of my range."

"fyi, you've now been deemed my Partner in Wanton Hilarity."

"i am going to tell you to refer to kelly's wanton dress and say that no matter how you dress/act-without-realizing, 'no' means 'no'."

"you smile. you're polite. you're charming. all these things are wonderful and make you YOU. but you still control your hula hoop."
"turn off the fucking boom-box and go home!"

"that does not look like a place i want to go to be touched."

"that's what happens when you leave the country! i go to dinner without you."

"so be careful when walking down damen. it has been thoroughly peed upon."

"it's not that you're immature. just that you're free-spirited enough that i wouldn't say you're older than 25."

"she's way too hip. i bet she watches the office all the time."

"just because you don't believe in the whimsy of mother nature..."

"i will date a girl from wisconsin, but i won't go there."

"yeah, but do you know how uncomfortable smelly shoes are?"

"egyptian women are very beautiful. in my experience they all look..."
"like pharoh's wife?"

"i was a badass when i was 6."

"he can wear a pair of underwear, dang him."

"oh, there's the one black guy."

"first of all, i genuinely cried during dolphin's tail..."
"i'm just uncomfortable about this."

"there's a guy with big glasses and a girl with big glasses, probably neither of which have prescriptions."

"it was a really tender intellectual bonding moment."

"i mean, we're at rainbo. i could throw a rock and hit a guy who'd say, 'i've got mad vinyl.'"




0 WANT.


i mean, you know i could rock this.


29 March 2012

0 two things



(1) dino: living high in the dirty business of dreams
(2) american rose: the life & times of gypsy rose lee

i read the first in prague and the second in one 8-hour stretch the jet-lagged day after i got back. and, though i've wanted to write about them ever since, i'm not really sure what to say beyond the fact that, reading them, i felt i'd been busted out of jail. 

2 happy trees



my parents don't know who bob ross is. what's more, they don't even seem to want to know. they do not even care. 

i've tried to heckle them into curiosity by using all the arguments of the right wing- telling them they're unamerican, unchristian and awful examples of humanity, merely because they refuse to even expose themselves to the wonders of bob ross.
because bob ross is amazing. this is something we can all agree on, right? 


3 weird things found during an amazon search for a book about celebrity




26 March 2012

1 vacay








3 solving problems with 90210: "when a girl dresses like a slut..."



[residual business from last week per the request of jmills... the bitchtastic thing brenda said to emily valentine that paled in comparison to "have a nice time at the gynecologist" but which nonetheless shocked everyone in the walsh's kitchen: "oh great a hootenanny... {emily: do you have a problem?} oh excuse me, i didn't mean to be rude! {emily: yes, you were} well, em. why don't you just go get your guitar and bring it in here and we'll all gather round and swoon... {emily: maybe you should just ask me to leave} oh and disappoint your fans? i wouldn't dream of it." see? not so bad. moving on...] 

keeping on our theme of sluts (because season 2 was apparently all about them) today, class, we're going to be examining portrayals of women who wear sexy dresses in the classic 90210 season 2 episode "halloween."

so we know this is going to be awesome because...


woo hoo! hell yeah! what you do not know (because i've spared you) is that we've just endured THREE whole episodes in which emily valentine didn't play a significant part. oh, the horror. but she's back now. 

i will also warn you, this is not one of our better episodes. the main plot (slutty dresses!) is provocative yeah, but in a season so laden with sluts, this isn't a stand-out, and the two subplots pretty much suck. plus, emily valentine's got a little while longer before she goes batshit crazy, so the work done in this episode is largely limited to character building. aside from slutty dresses, we've just got the coupling of brandon and emily valentine and scott's never-ending march to the grave i already put him in several weeks ago, all of which is kind of eh. 

that said, now that i've set your expectations ridiculously low...

what better way to get into the holiday spirit than this 40 second montage of demonic pumpkins?


are you there? are you with me? did you get chills? are you ready to be scared out of your fricking mind? does this help?

23 March 2012

0 i've only one regret


there's a picture i didn't take. just one. in the dresden train station, where my need to pee triumphed over my photographic eye. as always happens, this has now swelled in my mind to become The Greatest Picture of All Time and i am grieved by its loss. 

(and, yes, i've noted the irony. the cat died and i couldn't give two beans but a picture went untaken and here i am bereft.)

in the absence of visuals, i will now paint a word picture... 

imagine this: a poster wherein the statue of liberty, instead of a torch, holds aloft a tray bearing a BBQ hoagie, speared with a fluttering american flag toothpick.

what you are imagining is the international advertising for subway, wherein america garnishes it's sandwiches in a fashion eerily reminiscent of the commemoration of man's first walking on the moon. 

2 the transcript


oline: bonjour!

debo: ... bonjour! salut! bonne journée!

oline: you're not supposed to say them all!............... anyway, BONJOUR! comment vouple... crap, i forgot... hang on... what was it? wait... i got it... comment vous appelez vous?

debo: tres bien! oops... that's not what you asked me... hold on... it's... wait... je m'appelle debo... no, wait. i don't want to be debo. in paris, i am DEBORAH ... je m'appelle DEBORAH.............................................................................. et tu?

oline: je m'appelle oline...................... comment allez-vous? 

debo: tres bien! comme ce, comme ca! 

oline: but you can't be very good and so-so at the same time!

debo: i can be whatever i want! .... et tu? 

oline: oui!  i too can be whatever i want. 

debo: no, no, geez. stop being your father. et tu, comment allez-vous? 

oline: tres bien! 

debo: i think the french people will appreciate that we have taken the time to learn their language. 

oline: mon dieu! 

0 a quick recounting of the epic war of words between kim kardashian and jon hamm re: the issue of celebrity in america



for those of you not glued to the gossip sites 24/7, have no fear! i've got your back. pour vous: a breakdown of The Greatest Celebrity Showdown of Our Time (For Right Now)™©®¥™™...

here are our players: jon hamm- beloved actor who stars on a little show called mad men. he is pretty and has single-handedly made old fashioneds hip.


 




  kim kardashian- paris hilton's estranged BFF and a sex tape star, KK is famous for her butt (which may or may not be fake) and her failed marriage (which may or may not have been real).

<continue reading>

1 the continuing legacy of the cat who shat

"it's unreal, like a whole new world. every morning, i tell your mother: 'can you believe it? there's no cat crap in our house!'" 
- my dad

22 March 2012

0 !!!

tickets have been purchased.
huzzah.
paris 2012.


((fyi- the simplicity of the phrase "tickets have been purchased" completely 
belies the hour and a half that my mother and i spent on the phone 
trying to coordinate our flights and seats, an ordeal so arduous that- at its end-
my mother sighed, "well, now i need a nap."))


4 in (fond?) memory




it's hard to know when to let go. of clothes or ill-fitting shoes or pets. i know this. i understand it. i am, after all, still wearing those blasted pointy-toed yellow shoes that i bought after that stupid breakup five years ago. but we're not here to discuss the yellow shoes (damn them!). we're here to talk about my parents' cat.

several weeks ago, my dad had mimi put down. on the saturday that my nose bled in bikram, to be exact. 

you may remember mimi. she's the animal responsible for bringing the word "poo-pocalypse" into our family lexicon. 

once upon a time, i'd fancied owning her. this was post-cookie and pre-vieve, when i was living with donovan. i was determined to relieve myself of my catless state and mimi seemed an excellent option. but then my mother swooped in and snagged her for my dad for father's day and the rest is history. 
you can't make shit like that up. mimi was a gift. A GIFT. more like a curse. 

and so my dad got to spend six years trying to control a defecating beast and i got the vieve, who has the bathroom habits of an angel. 

not a day goes by i don't thank god for that. 

so mimi is dead now. 

the mourning process has been... how shall we say... interesting. 

18 years after his death (OMG, we are OLD), everyone in my family still gets misty-eyed over the bare mention of the dog of my childhood's name. i can't even bring myself to write it here as i know it would make me tear up. in contrast, mimi's legacy has deteriorated with alarming haste. not three weeks after her death, her reputation- if someone famous solely for their exploding diarrhea can even be said to have one- is in tatters. 

during our saturday morning skype, on the very morning of her impending demise, my father reflected that he may have let her live too long, that her bowel warfare was probably a sign he should've heeded. something that was so easily seen in retrospect, when looking back on the vast expanse of all those shitty years. 

this thought was carried further in a letter i received before leaving for prague, wherein my father suggested that my mother held him accountable for the cat's sad, sad plight. she should've been put down sooner. he was mistaken not to have done it long ago. in a subsequent letter, received upon my return, he alluded to the burden of having to care for her for the last six years, the frustration of administering a parade of pricey medicines that had absolutely no effect.

given that the grief process seemed to be moving at lightening speed, i suppose i half expected it to be over by the time i returned from europe. alas, no. i arrived back just in time for it's coup de grâce.

in a phone conversation on monday morning, my father gave mimi what very well may be her epitaph: "i don't know why i kept her alive so long. really, she was an awful cat."

21 March 2012

0 home


0 it's silly, but things like this still leave me starstruck.



3 cobbles



prague is cobbled with cobblestones. 

(laid with cobblestones?
bricked with cobblestones? 
paved with cobblestones?) 

i didn't notice this until after a day or two of walking. and even then, i didn't link the agony in my calves with its true source. instead i blamed the walk that blah and i made up a "mountain" and through some unsuspecting czech's backyard in our attempt to reach the eiffel tower of prague and then, also, the 299 steps required to ascend it once there. 

when my calves were painful to the touch three days later, i blamed that aerobic ordeal for what was, i later realized, clearly the cobbles' fault. 

cobblestone is the most sadistic of pavements. flats, flops, heels, doesn't matter. any form of footwear you can find is rendered helpless when confronted with cobbles. podiatrically speaking, they are kryptonite. 

you don't believe me? 

i was in prague for 4 days. 2 and 1/2 of them were spent sitting in a room in a palace. whycome my shoes look like this?



cobbles, people. cobbles.

3 good morning


20 March 2012

0 while i gather my wits and words... pictures!












0 prague + berlin = done


2 what is up with this?


3 skummilk


in prague, i bought a liter of what i believed to be czech milk. it tasted like american coffee creamer. this didn't deter me from drinking the whole damn thing, but i did wonder precisely what it was. thanks to google translate, i confirmed that it was milk and, accordingly, consumed an additional eight liters.

but it's curious how different milk is from country to country. the worst milk i've ever had was in sweden. it tasted like lawn fertilizer smells. how appropriate that it was called "skummilk."

the czech milk had a hint of skummilk about it. an almost sickening initial sweetness undercut by a chemical aftertaste that unfurls a reprehensible ugliness in the mouth, unstoppable as the spill at chernobyl.

blah and i are sitting in an irish bar in dresden and i'm trying to explain the difference between swedish and czech milk when i realize that i discuss milk like connoisseurs discuss wine. this is either endearing or obnoxious. i do not know which.

19 March 2012

5 solving problems with 90210: "there's a name for a girl like her... SLUT."


today, class, we're going to look at portrayals of sluts in the classic 90210 season 2 episode "wild fire." are you ready? no, really, are you? because this is where our 90210 problem solving steps it up to the next level. emily valentine is in the house, yo. shit is about to go down.

(would that there were an emoticon for the ominous drumroll [austin h. gilkeson, get on that], i would insert it here.)


16 March 2012

2 today

in prague, with jackie, delivering a paper on sex toboggans in a palace.