i’ll tell santa where to put his presents

All Families Are Psychotic to be a movie? Let’s see how “they” can fuck this one up. Maybe it will be a buddy road movie ugh. On my break I also re-watched Party Monster. This SHOULD have and COULD have been an awesome movie, if it weren’t for…well everything. Still, my clubkids fascination continues and I am absorbed in Disco Bloodbath.

Sometimes my brother likes to rub it in that he works in the music industry (kind of) and one of his clients is the Strokes. He received a very personal holiday card from them. And by personal I mean through mass email.

will you spend your life with me or will you send him to his grave

Well, finally got to see Phantom of the Opera. THis is a movie that I have been anticipating for 15 yeara, since the eighth grade field trip to see it. I was full-out bawling at the end, and the only one on the trip who was doing so. I had to dry my eyes quick in order not to welcome anymore ridicule than was already happening. After that, and through high school, I listened to my cassette of the cast resording until I could perform a one-woman show of the entire thing(how many of you would pay to see that?)

So, of course, the movie is so hyped up for me, it would never meet my expectations. Sadly, this is the case. Overall, it was like a high school production that had a huge budget. It stayed true to the stage show, plus some not-necessary flashback scenes.
There is a certain cheese factor to the show, being that it is from the mod-80s and “typical” broadway fashion.

The thing that annoyed me most was Christine. This Emmy Rossum had a decent enough voice, but her method of acting was staying as still as a board, and always looking like she took a quaalude and breathing through her mouth. Patrick Wilson as Raoul was pretty enough, but he had a fake-looking weave and I will never think of him as anything other than a gay Mormon. Gerard Butler was decent, and quite the piece, even with the burned and dsfigured face.

After seeing it again, through the lense of fifteen years of growth, I am seeing my once-favorite musical is a new light. First of all, Christine? Weak. She would always get herself into trouble by falling under the Phantom’s spell, and then calling for Raoul’s help. Grow a spine. And I seriously feel for the Phantom. Here he is, forced to live underground for years, and then he takes the time to make Christine a huge star and what does she do to thank him? Run away with the pretty boy. Fuck, I’d probably terrorize a few operas if that were me.

Anyway, I am off to NY for a couple of days, and will have limited internet access, so hit the cell. Merry Christmas and all that shit.

i learned it by watching you

Holler at my new reviews of Sahara Hotnights and Rogue Wave.

feed the birds, tuppence a bag

So I got productive and started posting again: here, here, and here. Reviews will be up soon.

I got my 40th Anniversary edition of Mary Poppins and was practically in tears the whole time watching it. Can we talk about how frigging good it is? Can we also talk about how random and disjointed the plotline is? Lately I have been seeking out things from my childhood to revisit. First, it was the Barbies. Then the Jem dvd. Now Mary Poppins. And now watching shit like this and bawling:

To be cliche, maybe doing this stuff takes me back to a simpler, happier time where I didn't have to deal with the shit I do now. I didn't worry about a career; I was the smartest kid in my class. I didn't worry about my looks; my mother would bring home a new EJ Gitano outfit and I would feel like a supermodel. Happiness came in simple form, like picture day at school or joining the summer library reading club. Sigh.

love rhymes with hideous train wreck

So, I don’t have an ear infection, but I went to the doctor and have a pretty bad cold and major blockage in my ear. I managed to finagle the doctor into giving me a five month supply of some strong antihistamines. I know it is no vicatin, but it just seemed so easy to ask for it and get it. I’m not complaining, but these days it seems like all I’ve had to do is ask for a drug I heard about and I’ve gotten it. Cripes.I just watched All the Real Girls, and jesus was I antsy watching it. It was a nice, realistic “portrait of a life” but I am really sick of the idealistic movie romances that save everything [ahem, GARDEN STATE]. I don’t think I am bitter or cynical about it, but just annoyed. Maybe I am more realistic about relationships, that getting engaged doesn’t always seem like the right way to go [ahem, BRIDGET JONES AND THE EDGE OF REASON]. I can’t stand on-screen relationships where the only thing the couple talks about is their relationship. Shit, that sounds like a hell to me. Anyway, I couldn’t tell if Zooey Daschenel was supposed to be mentally handicapped or not. And it emplyed the annoying mechanism where anytime anyone met up, one of the charaters would go off on a monologue about a sob story from the past. Then I put in Young Adam, which failed to hold my attention despite Ewan MacGregor’s absolutely perfect physical being and the fact he has a lot of sex, gets rubbed down in the shower by another man, and (of course) has some full frontal nudity. The movie was just that unthrilling.

So that ends the era of Netflix, and now I am way into reading again. Don’t even bother with The Mysterious Incident of the Dog. Totally amateur. It is supposed to be all avant-gard because the narrator is an autistic teenager, but the whole thing came off trite and underdeveloped. I’d rather read Kristy and the Secret of SusanNow I am engrossed in Stone Junction- thanks for the rec, Erin.

are you trying to read my diary

Friday.

Tis the season for giving! For giving myself more material objects that I don't need!

Merry Christmas to me. Thank you, baby Jesus.

A teacher my father worked with for 30 years got caught knocking up a 14 year old student. I hate how this crap gives teachers a bad name, especially NYC teachers. ANyway, my father was very excited about the gossip and trash talking this caused for him. Furthermore,

Schenker earned his moniker, "The Snake," from his penchant for wearing snakeskin jackets and a belt buckle emblazoned with Al Pacino's "Scarface" character, Tony Montana. Students described him as an engaging music teacher who makes class fun by playing rap, R&B and rock.

Ew, creepy and disgustingly tacky.

Thursday.

This goes out to Brenda: the Star Wars Christmas Special. Seen it?

People of the Year? Methinks not.

Yes. It's true. It happened. I watched the season finale of the Apprentice. COmplete with Regis Phibin, live performances by the O'Jay's, and gender double standards galore. This is how middle America must feel.

slanted and enchanted

THursday.

She can't even lip-synch well.

From Page Six:

Elizabeth Wurtzel has sworn off writing! The whiny author of "Prozac Nation" told pals at a wedding in Queens last weekend, "I am going to Yale Law School right now. But I never actually want to practice. I just am going. It's not like anyone accused me of ever being a good writer, so why not law school?" Wurtzel isn't worried about having to pay back student loans. "If you don't ever make any money and become, like, a janitor, then they forgive your loans. I swear," she said. Wurtzel might have a rude awakening in three years when she graduates

Go Lizzy, go! I enjoyed your self-indulgent battle with depression and your addiction to snorting ritalin, and I can't wait to hear about how you got through Yale while pouting, crying, and batting your eyes. God, I love her.

Oh, and Jenna? From the Wash Post:

First daughter Jenna Bush, who put her career plans on hold while campaigning to reelect her father, has decided to live in Washington and plans to teach at a District public school that serves low-income children. The White House would not release details yesterday, but we've learned that she has applied to teach at Elsie Whitlow Stokes Community Freedom Public Charter School in the Mount Pleasant/Columbia Heights neighborhood.The school's founder and executive director, Linda Moore, wouldn't confirm Bush's employment, saying: "We don't discuss the relationship between a prospective employee and the school until we have a formal agreement. This is not something I'm at liberty to discuss."
The Elsie Whitlow Stokes school has 250 pupils enrolled in kindergarten through sixth grade, features immersion classes in Spanish and French, and emphasizes community service. Its children, who are largely Hispanic and African American, visit soup kitchens and participate in an annual walk for the homeless.

"They learn who's homeless in this country and who's hungry in the world," Moore told us. "We emphasize preparation for citizenship. We emphasize increasing students' knowledge of other cultures. We are preparing them to be leaders in the community."

Ooooo, Jenna is in my hood. I had a glorious time living a few blocks from the school and also spent time there doing service work during my Americorp days- I believe I did a homeless awareness workshop with some younger students (my god, my memory can't even go back 4 years). It is a really awesome school with a really long name and a really awesome mission. I am sure Jenna wants to do some good, but it just reeks of a guilt complex of privilege to go work there. Oh well, at least she is not just hanging around the Ivy with Paris Hilton.

doll is mine

busy as fuck at work. Have to tons of it in the evenings and have evaluations due. I feel like I am back in grad school, with work and deadlines over my head. Ech! I guess I asked for it, and I knew this time of the year is busy. Next Friday I am going to be in NY, so those people who live there that I still like, call me. I want to get lost in Strand, see La Cage, and generally get pushed out of the way by everyone (I sure do miss it).

you’ve got dirt on your nose just there- did you know?

Monday.

Thanks to John for showing me what my Barbie obsession can turn in to.

Sunday.

Today was my first official day as a volunteer at the Humane Society. However, I was thoroughly annoyed because I was given no direction whatsoever. I certainly am intelligent enough to take initiative and am not being paid, but I appreciate that if I am going to volunteer my time, I would like to have more direction because so that I can make sure I am being well utilized. Anyway, with no one in sight, I because the marketing spokesperson for the older cats and tried to get people to look past the cute kittens and get themselves a lazy, fat furball. It is all very agist. They put the youngest kittens right in the front kennel and within an hour, all it needs to do is paw the glass, lick its own ass and it is being taken home. However, my time did seem well spent because within three hours, about 6 cats went home with families; I like volunteering somewhere where I can tangibly see the difference I am making. Anyway, it is fun. I basically get to pet and play with and talk to cats for a couple of hours. Yea, actually conversations, like about kierkegaard and the weather. Good times. I’m gonna be senile by age 30.

So I am very much in the same dilemna as Brenda. I have lots going on, but I am not sure I want this to be the medium on which I communicate it. Let’s just say that I have been thinking a lot about decisions I have made. If these decisions are wrong, is it better to deal with the consequences and make the best of things, or to revel in the past and think about how to undo the decision? I know what the answer is, but it is easier said and done. No matter what environment I find myself in, I seem to run into the same shit over and over again. Does that mean I need to change something about myself, or keep searching for the environment that will best fit with me? Is there even one that exists?

Finally reading: The Hipster Handbook and its companion: Food Court Druids, Cherohonkees and Other Creatures Unique to the Republic. Nothing I love more than categorizing people (Idiosyncronology).

More irrelevant news to ponder: oh no they didn’t!

Reason number 253 that Kirsten Dunst is a fucking idiot.

So, instead of buying presents for everyone I work with, we are adopting a family for the holiday. The six-year old I was “assigned” wants a Bratz doll. Hmmmm…is this the time to impose my values? Should I refuse because these dolls teach nothing but demented body image and there is nothing more to life than fashion? Hmmmm. Well, I decided to get the most modestly dressed one, and along with that a Dora the Explorer school playset. To make myself feel better. I wonder which one she will play with?

OK, it is time. I have an announcement. This is something I was going to keep to myself, but I really need to be honest with someone. I want to proudly say that…I am now a Barbie Collector. Yes, some of you knew that I was always a fan, and had a whopping 75 dolls when I was younger. Clearly it is a combination of many things. (1) the kitch factor- she is so damn cheezy! (2) Good memories from my childhood. My happiest memories were coming home from Hebrew school and making my dolls miniskirts out of tissues (true story) and (3) my ongoing fascination with iconic images of women. Unfortunately, Barbie’s activities now include being a Cali girl, a supermodel, and obsessed with Spongebob. She used to be a doctor, an astronaut (she had a pink sparkly space helmet) and a gymnast. Even when it was fashion based, it was totsllu fantasical- like “Jewel secrets”- her dress had jewels hidden on it). Ebay has helped me in my new obsession, and I have recently acquired Ken and Barbie as a Jude Deveroux romance novel cover (I love Ken’s long flowing locks and billowing white shirt),

Olympic figure skaters (can this be any gayer).

I can dare to dream about The Juicy couture collector’s set.

I have to say that this was all kicked off when I bought John the Flavas Bike Date Playset for his birthday. Damn you, Kiyoni brown and your leather chaps!

in the palm of her hand was a blister

Monday.

John, just a little something from me to you:

Sunday.

I'm gonna go ahead and need to see Bad Education.

Sooooo hot right now:

The Ponys

Death From Above 1979
I'm writing for Silent Uproar again

Saturday.

Budding Long Island rock scene my ass.

A blog dedicated to the hatred of The Strand. Yea, stuff is hard to find, there is no air conditioning, the staff is grumpy. But why the hate? Why?

Friday.

Charlie and the Chocolate Factory is going to be so choice. Although Johnny Depp has my haircut from third grade.

Thursday.

My gawd, I love The Faint, espec. Wet From Birth:

In the beginning there was semen,
In a deep mound of flesh,
And a crest that traveled,
On a wave of their own mess.

Through a tunnel of mucus,
And onto a vault,
With tourists and traffic,
I just paced myself.

Not I as my whole self,
Just the half that I had,
Before greeting the rest,
Of my better half.

A connection was made,
Through the shared love of science,
And vows were taken,
A seat was hired.

A cavern of fluid,
Brought shape to my hide,
In the months that remain,
To the time of my life.

Add flash for the reason,
Was spilling from the crack,
To the palms of the doctor,
To a towel full of scraps.

My brains wouldn't fit,
Through organ sex,
An incision was made,
With a scalpel and mess.

I should have noticed the beauty,
And not how it hurt,
Wet like a cherry,
In the bloodbath of birth.

What else is hot is Project Runway. If they didn't make is so corny and Surivor-esque. And they do the whole voing off thing, which is so DONE! Just let them stay and at the end they can decide who is the best. Some people have done some cool shit.

Other than that, can the weekend please be here? Everyone and everything is fucking annoying me and I need two days to recuperate.The Art of Modern Rock.

The NY Times does Guided By Voices.

The only thing I enjoy about the holiday season: best-of lists.

have you ever heard the wolk cry to the blue corn moon?

Owen Burke is in the new America Online commercial. Holler.So, someone has made Sarah Paul an honest woman. She was my co-residence director in Willoughby Hall. Some of you may remember her more for her inspiring rendition of “Colors of the Wind:. She tells it like this:

As for being married, we met on the internet (e-
harmony.com) last december and couldn't stop
talking to each other. We instant messaged and
called and wrote and e-mailed….finally I flew from
Australia to Germany to visit him where he was
stationed…we decided to get marrried. when I
finished my australia trip and returned to the US
he had been stationed in Virginia for some
trainin. I flew down there and we got married at
the court house in Petersburg on May 28th!
We are planning on having a laid back ceremony
in June or July of this year so that my family and
friends can be there.

I am just worried that it won’t last. She is a hardcore monogamist. Since I have known her, she has had at least 4 relationships where she has already talked marriage. Before she left for Australia, she had bought a farm in Vermont with this other guy she knew. However, she is now selling crafts in Hawaii and I am in my pjs eating popcorn writing a blog. Who gets the last laugh?

So, because of the massive amounts of music I have downloaded to my computer, my Juno is all fucked up. So, if you have sent me an email in the last few weeks or so, I no longer have it and probably won’t answer. Oh, and I loathe you.

I hate Christmas. December 26 can’t come fast enough.

Fell in Love With a Band.

dimension seven

New Phantom Planet live dvd. Hands down, one of the best live bands.

Pre Show

By The Bed/
Always On My Mind/
1st Things 1st/
The Meantime/
Knowitall/
The Happy Ending/
Badd Business/
In Our Darkest Hour/
Making A Killing/
Lonely Day/
Waiting Room/
Nobody's Fault/
Anthem/
Galleria/
California/
Big Brat/
All Over Again/
After Show/
By The Bed/
Always On My Mind/
Making A Killing/
1st Things 1st/
The Happy Ending/
Badd Business/
California/
Stiffs/
Big Brat/
Nobody's Fault/
All Over Again/
My Friend Liz Is Dead/
Sabotage

Brenda, this is for you: Women on Afghanastan photo spread.

Turn-ons:

Being permitted to laugh

 

Turn-offs:

Stray Tomahawk missiles, floggings, hairy backs

 

Last books read:

The Koran, Pashto to English Dictionary, The South Beach Diet