Almost immediately I felt sorry.....
On this, the eve of the Siren Music Fest, I thought I'd take it easy and rest up for the fun ahead. So, instead of an evening out boozing it up, I went after work to see Fahrenheit 9-11 which, by the by, totally taught me how to spell the word "Fahrenheit". I could post here about how important I thought the film was or how I can't handle seeing 9/11 images without being reduced to tears, even three years later, or how angry Bush made me or how Michael Moore should've left out the "easy" Bush jokes because it weakens his otherwise strong arguments, but this never claimed to be a politcal site and- truth be told- I came home and launched into an hour long tirade/review of the movie and its politics to Beth so I'm just plum out of words now.
I then proceeded to spend an evening watching missed episodes of I Love The 90s with the roomie and reminiscing about where I was when "I Want It That Way" had a stranglehold on TRL or I heard the infamous phrase "I did not have sexual relations with that woman, Ms. Lewinsky." (For the record it was high on my sofa in college in St. Louis with Kate and in my London flat at Park West Apartments on Edgeware Road, respectively.) It's weird to feel nostalgic for things in the recent past. But the weirdest part is that I thought that it would seem superfluous and too recent but, since I graduated college in '99 and my life in the Louie feels weirdly like lifetimes ago, it actually made me nostalgic. And that made me kinda sad. 5 years is not really a long time. So, in the spirit of the disgust I feel with myself for allowing myself to be sucked in by Michael Ian Black and Mo Rocca and their brand of fake corporate nostalgia, here are the top 10 things that disappointed me these last couple days:
1) I thought that once I had digital cable there would always be something on TV to watch. I was wrong. This week I've been reduced to watching Grease for the 4 millionth time in my life (have I mentioned before that this was the movie that taught me- at 7 years old- that I was heterosexual because sideburned, leather jacket-wearing John Travolta stirred feelings in me that I'd never felt before), watching the same episode of The Best Week Ever 3 times in one night, watching the video for Lionel Ritchie's "Ballerina Girl" on VH1 Classic's pop show and just plain watching my neighbors through my huge bedroom windows. (I don't feel so bad about that last one, since my neighbors have totally seen me naked on more than one occasion. It's exceptionally weird to actually catch someone watching you from across the courtyard. Like when you make eye contact with them. I've since gotten curtains.)
2) I kinda felt like a dirty old lady twice today. First, while watching Fahrenheit 9-11 they had some sexy little alterna-dude in the high school in Flint talking about army recruiters with his East Village hair and Strokes t-shirt. (I know he is too young for me, lives in Michigan AND i was supposed to be paying attention to the attrocities of the Bush administration not imagining myself as a Mrs. Robinson character. Bad Retown!) Then secondly, when I was flipping through the TV trying to avoid yet another viewing of Grease, I stumbled across Tuck Everlasting on the N (or some other kids network). Now I loved that book in the 4th grade, but I must admit that I watched the movie for a whole 20 minutes just cuz I thought Jonathan Jackson was dreamy. (Please do not confuse him for the acne-ridden Canadian Joshua Jackson from the Creek. Jonathan was the original Lucky from General Hospital.) He is playing someone who is supposed to be forever 17, or something, and the actor, though 22, is still younger than my little sister- which is my general guideline of "how young can you go?" But he is all floppy-haired and puffy-lipped and reminds me of the blond WASPY prep school boys I pretended to shun in high school (I think in truth they shunned me). You know what else he has going for him? Jackson starred in my favorite tv movie/afterschool special of all time- Trapped in a Purple Haze, about heroin addiction- with Carly Pope (star of Popular and my favorite ABC family channel movie, This Time Around.)
3) The fact that I actually know nonsense like who starred in Trapped in a Purple Haze and This Time Around is pretty disappointing. That's pretty disgusting. And I wonder why I can't remember high school math! (PS: the other star of Trapped in a Purple Haze? Hayden "Shattered Glass" Christensen-Skywalker.)
4) Yes the Prince show was amazing. Trancendent even. But why did the purple one have to tease us with songs we really wanted to hear and make them part of some Vegas-y medley. I want to hear all of "When Doves Cry" damnit!!
5) And while we are on the subject of Prince.....don't change your lyrics! Who wants "Purple Rain" to be interrupted with lines about opening up their bible? Dude, PR is all about not wanting to be your weekend lover, not loving the Lord. Or Jehovah. Or whoever.
6) I heard that since Shaya and Adam and I were on the list for last night's Moving Units show, we could've just walked to the front! Dude, that's fucked up. We are being punished for being honest and not entitled assholes. Or we are just dumbasses who should've checked before we got out of line and gave up on the concert.
7) I Love the 90s reminded me of a lot of things that fill me with rage. Like Harry Potter. Now, I have no beef with the young wizard himself. And I think it's great that kids are excited about reading and waiting with bated breath for a book to come out instead of some stupid video game. But at the height of Potter-mania I had all these friends (Yeah, Dava I'm talking to you!) who were mad about the books and talking them up to me constantly. Now I'm on the record as being anti- all fantasy and/or science fiction literature and movies so I was naturally predisposed to hate old Harry. And though I've since seen the first two movies (though both on planes so it wasn't actually a conscious choice where money exchanged hands in return for the privilege of viewing these kiddie films) I must admit that I think there is something sad about being a grown up who reads Harry Potter. I'm sorry. I never said I wasn't prejudiced (hey, I freely admit to be prejudiced against religious people!). Its like pulling out a copy of One Fish, Two Fish on the subway. It's a kid's book. And you, at 25 or 40, are not a kid. You can digest grown up reading material. I'm not saying that you can only read Dostoyevsky (Hell, my current subway reading is either Entertainment Weekly or Howling At The Moon)but Harry Potter? A mind is a terrible thing to waste, folks.
8) I recieved an email the other day from a gentleman we'll call Slacker Joe (copyright Shaya Mohajer). Now we went on one date two months ago and it was, shall we say?, uneventful. (By uneventful I mean that he sat on my couch, high, for the better part of 6 hours continually putting on new videos until I made him leave) Now he's writing and propositioning me for sex. Now Slacker Joe has no job, no degree, no artistic dreams and lives with his parents. I'm no "Got to have a J-O-B if you want to be with me" kind of gal but c'mon dude! You had NOTHING to talk about. You don't do anything. You don't go anywhere. I know that we all have "needs" (also copyright Shaya Mohajer) but there is NOTHING sexy about someone who has absolutely no interests. At all. Seriously. He was cute, but not that cute.
9) I wish I felt something about the new Streets album. I really do. I get that Mike Skinner is clever and a good storyteller but I think his beats are lazy. I mean, there is no MUSIC in his music. Everyone else is peeing themselves about this record though. What am I missing folks? Am I deaf?
10)Geez, I just reread #7. That is kinda disgusting. No wonder my parents tell me that I'm a snob, ad nauseum.
See you all at Siren. I'll be the freakshow having convulsions of joy at the foot of the stage where the Thermals are playing.
Oh God, it's 3:24 in the morning and I've managed to make it all the way to the "Sandy" song at the drive-in at Grease! I always fast forwarded past this part as a kid. It's totally the "Cheer Up Charlie" of Grease. That's gotta be my cue to go to sleep. Or at least find something on HBO to watch.
I then proceeded to spend an evening watching missed episodes of I Love The 90s with the roomie and reminiscing about where I was when "I Want It That Way" had a stranglehold on TRL or I heard the infamous phrase "I did not have sexual relations with that woman, Ms. Lewinsky." (For the record it was high on my sofa in college in St. Louis with Kate and in my London flat at Park West Apartments on Edgeware Road, respectively.) It's weird to feel nostalgic for things in the recent past. But the weirdest part is that I thought that it would seem superfluous and too recent but, since I graduated college in '99 and my life in the Louie feels weirdly like lifetimes ago, it actually made me nostalgic. And that made me kinda sad. 5 years is not really a long time. So, in the spirit of the disgust I feel with myself for allowing myself to be sucked in by Michael Ian Black and Mo Rocca and their brand of fake corporate nostalgia, here are the top 10 things that disappointed me these last couple days:
1) I thought that once I had digital cable there would always be something on TV to watch. I was wrong. This week I've been reduced to watching Grease for the 4 millionth time in my life (have I mentioned before that this was the movie that taught me- at 7 years old- that I was heterosexual because sideburned, leather jacket-wearing John Travolta stirred feelings in me that I'd never felt before), watching the same episode of The Best Week Ever 3 times in one night, watching the video for Lionel Ritchie's "Ballerina Girl" on VH1 Classic's pop show and just plain watching my neighbors through my huge bedroom windows. (I don't feel so bad about that last one, since my neighbors have totally seen me naked on more than one occasion. It's exceptionally weird to actually catch someone watching you from across the courtyard. Like when you make eye contact with them. I've since gotten curtains.)
2) I kinda felt like a dirty old lady twice today. First, while watching Fahrenheit 9-11 they had some sexy little alterna-dude in the high school in Flint talking about army recruiters with his East Village hair and Strokes t-shirt. (I know he is too young for me, lives in Michigan AND i was supposed to be paying attention to the attrocities of the Bush administration not imagining myself as a Mrs. Robinson character. Bad Retown!) Then secondly, when I was flipping through the TV trying to avoid yet another viewing of Grease, I stumbled across Tuck Everlasting on the N (or some other kids network). Now I loved that book in the 4th grade, but I must admit that I watched the movie for a whole 20 minutes just cuz I thought Jonathan Jackson was dreamy. (Please do not confuse him for the acne-ridden Canadian Joshua Jackson from the Creek. Jonathan was the original Lucky from General Hospital.) He is playing someone who is supposed to be forever 17, or something, and the actor, though 22, is still younger than my little sister- which is my general guideline of "how young can you go?" But he is all floppy-haired and puffy-lipped and reminds me of the blond WASPY prep school boys I pretended to shun in high school (I think in truth they shunned me). You know what else he has going for him? Jackson starred in my favorite tv movie/afterschool special of all time- Trapped in a Purple Haze, about heroin addiction- with Carly Pope (star of Popular and my favorite ABC family channel movie, This Time Around.)
3) The fact that I actually know nonsense like who starred in Trapped in a Purple Haze and This Time Around is pretty disappointing. That's pretty disgusting. And I wonder why I can't remember high school math! (PS: the other star of Trapped in a Purple Haze? Hayden "Shattered Glass" Christensen-Skywalker.)
4) Yes the Prince show was amazing. Trancendent even. But why did the purple one have to tease us with songs we really wanted to hear and make them part of some Vegas-y medley. I want to hear all of "When Doves Cry" damnit!!
5) And while we are on the subject of Prince.....don't change your lyrics! Who wants "Purple Rain" to be interrupted with lines about opening up their bible? Dude, PR is all about not wanting to be your weekend lover, not loving the Lord. Or Jehovah. Or whoever.
6) I heard that since Shaya and Adam and I were on the list for last night's Moving Units show, we could've just walked to the front! Dude, that's fucked up. We are being punished for being honest and not entitled assholes. Or we are just dumbasses who should've checked before we got out of line and gave up on the concert.
7) I Love the 90s reminded me of a lot of things that fill me with rage. Like Harry Potter. Now, I have no beef with the young wizard himself. And I think it's great that kids are excited about reading and waiting with bated breath for a book to come out instead of some stupid video game. But at the height of Potter-mania I had all these friends (Yeah, Dava I'm talking to you!) who were mad about the books and talking them up to me constantly. Now I'm on the record as being anti- all fantasy and/or science fiction literature and movies so I was naturally predisposed to hate old Harry. And though I've since seen the first two movies (though both on planes so it wasn't actually a conscious choice where money exchanged hands in return for the privilege of viewing these kiddie films) I must admit that I think there is something sad about being a grown up who reads Harry Potter. I'm sorry. I never said I wasn't prejudiced (hey, I freely admit to be prejudiced against religious people!). Its like pulling out a copy of One Fish, Two Fish on the subway. It's a kid's book. And you, at 25 or 40, are not a kid. You can digest grown up reading material. I'm not saying that you can only read Dostoyevsky (Hell, my current subway reading is either Entertainment Weekly or Howling At The Moon)but Harry Potter? A mind is a terrible thing to waste, folks.
8) I recieved an email the other day from a gentleman we'll call Slacker Joe (copyright Shaya Mohajer). Now we went on one date two months ago and it was, shall we say?, uneventful. (By uneventful I mean that he sat on my couch, high, for the better part of 6 hours continually putting on new videos until I made him leave) Now he's writing and propositioning me for sex. Now Slacker Joe has no job, no degree, no artistic dreams and lives with his parents. I'm no "Got to have a J-O-B if you want to be with me" kind of gal but c'mon dude! You had NOTHING to talk about. You don't do anything. You don't go anywhere. I know that we all have "needs" (also copyright Shaya Mohajer) but there is NOTHING sexy about someone who has absolutely no interests. At all. Seriously. He was cute, but not that cute.
9) I wish I felt something about the new Streets album. I really do. I get that Mike Skinner is clever and a good storyteller but I think his beats are lazy. I mean, there is no MUSIC in his music. Everyone else is peeing themselves about this record though. What am I missing folks? Am I deaf?
10)Geez, I just reread #7. That is kinda disgusting. No wonder my parents tell me that I'm a snob, ad nauseum.
See you all at Siren. I'll be the freakshow having convulsions of joy at the foot of the stage where the Thermals are playing.
Oh God, it's 3:24 in the morning and I've managed to make it all the way to the "Sandy" song at the drive-in at Grease! I always fast forwarded past this part as a kid. It's totally the "Cheer Up Charlie" of Grease. That's gotta be my cue to go to sleep. Or at least find something on HBO to watch.
2 Comments:
you should rename this blog Listtown. or something.
on that note, harry potter also fills me with rage. i've scared one of the interns at work about my dislike of harry potter already.
dammit, it kicked me off.
i was going to say that the fact that we could have walked up to the front also fills me with rage.
although, seriously, i spend so little time with high school age people. it was good for my self-esteem. high school kids are retarded. and even if i'm not cool or radical, i'm not a high school kid at least. the end.
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