Tuesday, February 28, 2006

"I have lost friends, some by death... others through sheer inability to cross the street."
- Virginia Woolf

Wednesday, February 22, 2006

For the Record

If I was a lesbian and Denise Duhamel was a lesbian...we would sooo totally be lovers.

Tuesday, February 21, 2006

Ohhhhh, the Irony

So, I went to the doctor today to discuss depression that I've had for at least 10 years now. She decided that it would be in my best interest to see a therapist.

So, I call the therapist and I speak to someone who does an "intake call" where they interview you and ask some very basic questions so they put you with the proper therapist.

Well, the point of my story is when the therapist transfered me over to the MENTAL HEALTH secretary to finish making my appointment, the hold music was...

MANIC MONDAY.

I wish I could've TiVOed that moment of my life. It was just too great. If I had seen that in a movie, I would've rolled my eyes and said "TOO PERFECT!" Yet there it was happening in my life.

It made my day. For a moment I felt like my life could be Ferris Bueller's Day Off, or some such classic comedy. It was just beautiful.

Sunday, February 19, 2006

Yoohoo!! I'll Make Ya Famous

Oh, my god! This is awesome! Young Guns II is on!!!

I didn't realize Viggo Mortensen was in this.
So is Alan Ruck.
So is Balthazar Getty.

When I was little my sister Liz had a HUGE crush on that kid and I was forced to watch Young Guns II over and over and over and over...

I couldn't say Balthazar Getty, so I called him Bowl of Speghetti.

*sigh*

I love this movie. I am so happy.

OH NOOOOO!!!! They just shot DOC!!!! *shakes an angry fist at the sky* DAMN YOU GARRETT!! Here is comes! Doc is gonna...finish the game *cue dramatic music* I love it when Doc comes running out, guns-a-blastin' and gets shot to pieces...

...oh Kiefer. You're hot even when you have blood spewing out of your mouth. You can stop by and finish my game whenever you like.

Here's to Swimmin' With Bow-Legged Women...

...and getting bigger boats.

What ever happened to Hollywood? Wasn't there a time not TOO long ago when a blockbuster movie was a REAL blockbuster? It had thrills and spills and CONTENT? Do you remember when actors were ACTORS and made movies because they were actors and not because they were hot little blonds with TV shows, music CDs, make-up and clothing lines that this particular film was going to promote. I mean, I remember when I saw Young Guns II and my sister told me to look for Jon Bon Jovi in the final scenes because he had been given a CAMEO for writing a song for the movie. And there he was, popped out of a hole, got shot right away and fell back into the hole in...well, a Blaze of Glory (sorry) I was AMAZED.

I was only 8 or 9, so maybe it was just a matter of me being young, but then I see commercials for The Pink Panther with Beyonce and I think...maybe not. Maybe it's just as bad as I really think it is. Not that cross overs are bad. Jamie Foxx kicks ass and lord knows we wouldn't have 24 with out Kiefer being able to make that leap, but STILL! Has anyone noticed that anytime Mandy Moore makes a film, she gets a song on the soundtrack? She's a great actress, but a horrible singer. And what about TV actor's significant others getting guest roles, simply because they are dating? Or two lovers making a film together (BENIFFER! and she's doing it again with Marc!)It's insane, so let's stop all that foolishness right now, shall we?

I saw Jaws for the first time last night. I knew it was a classic, but all I had heard about it was how great it was back in 1975 and how cheesy it was now. I never really had any interest in it, so I never went out of my way to see it. I chanced upon it just as it was starting last night on A&E (HA!)though, so I stayed and watched it.

And so, I'm left to wonder, WHAT HAPPENED TO HOLLYWOOD???!!! Jaws is such a great movie! Cheesy, yes, but my god! It's so solid and the characters actually have meat and conflict...it's CONTENT! Brody, Hooper and Quint are amazing and compelling characters! I mean, they are all there for the same reason, have similar experiences with sharks (to a certain degree), but look at how different they are! So different, but obessed just the same. All three have these detailed and quirky personalities that you just don't see these days...I mean, not in the blockbusters.

That film has SO much heart to it. This is the Hollywood that I fell in love with as a child. THIS is the Hollywood that I wanted to be a part of, and THIS is the Hollywood that no longer exists today.

I dunno, Mo. Do you think you and I can revive this?

I kinda think we have to see Hollywood die completely before anything can be done to help it. But it's time like these, when I see the REAL Hollywood, alive and well in films like Jaws, that makes me want to reach for it and give it my best.

Who knows? Maybe I will after all?

Saturday, February 18, 2006

It's Gonna be a Good Day!

Ohhhh ROGER MOORE. You are so sexy!

Not as sexy as SUSHI though.

Thursday, February 16, 2006

Little Ninja's Dream Come True

Once upon a time, a guy asked a girl "Will you marry me?" The girl said,
"No" and lived happily ever after and went shopping, dancing,
drank martinis, always had a clean house, never had to cook, stayed skinny
and farted whenever she wanted.

THE END!

Wednesday, February 15, 2006

A Perplexing Problem

There is an article in the paper this morning about a woman here in Wisconsin who needs a lung transplant, but her health insurance won't cover it. She and her family must must PREPAY $330,000 before they will do anything. She is down to 20% lung capacity and is deteriorating. She owns a substantial farm that she can morgage out, but with $330,000 loan, she will most likely lose the farm that has been in her family for 5 generations and that her son is poised to inherit.

There is a catch to all this though, and to me, it's a pretty significan catch.

This isn't just ANY lung transplant. It's the woman's THIRD lung transplant. The first two were payed for by her insurace company and were both done in 1997. The article is not stating whether this is all for the same lung or for two.

So the family is upset, which makes sense. This poor woman is only 44-years-old. Lord knows that American health insurance can be a cold place too. They are out there to make money off of you and if you are a risk, there's no way.

Here is my question:
Which is more important? You're farm or your life? Cos...if it were me, I'd say, sorry son, sorry ancestors, but I need me a new lung, so we are gonna sell this place so I can live!

Another VERY hard question:
If you sell the farm and get this third lung, when are you going to need a fourth and how will you pay for that one?

This has been on my mind all morning. There is the humane part of my brain that says this woman should be given the chance to live. Then there is the part that says, GOOD LORD! When is this gonna stop?

It's tough. My heart goes out to her and her family. They must be going through hell right now.

Thursday, February 09, 2006

What....the...HELL?!

I woke up this morning to the strange and annoying feeling of my undies wedged between my butt cheecks. This is a frequent sensation for me, as girlie boxers tend to really ride up through out the day and night. The first thing that came to mind was the word "grundy."

"Grundy" is the word we used for this phenomenon back when I was in middle school/high school (soooo, like, '92-'99?), and the word made me start to think. I thought, damn. I don't hear ANYONE use that word anymore. Am I the only one? Is "grundy" the new "groovy?" Am I totally dating myself here?

But then I thought about how I'm really the only person I know who announces that my panies are actually wedged up there in the first place as I shake my bootie in strange ways before I just give up and pull it out, right there in the middle of Target.

So, then I thought, well maybe I should make my new years resolution be to stop doing crazy shit like that.

But then I thought, hell no! That's uncomfortable. If my undies are wedged, I want them out now!

Then I got back to, WHAT THE HELL IS THAT CALLED?! Grundy? Wedgie? What the hell??!!

But then I somehow went from that to, "Damn, I should have wrote it like: Jamie Foxx roxx my soxx!"

And that was when I became painfully aware of what had just run through my head and a great and mighty "DAAAAAAMN" spilled forth from my drousy little mouth.

But seriously. What the hell is that called?

Tuesday, February 07, 2006

Don't Get Me Wrong

I haven't seen Conan O'Brian in almost a year, but I'm watching it now and...does this man ever do anything different? He comes out, swings his arms around, jumps a couple three, four, five times. Runs off camera only to come back a few momments later an inch away from the lens. Jumps some more, does his hee hee haw haw thing...

...this is why I watch Letterman.

Sunday, February 05, 2006

Oh, God

My dad just gave me an article on new child safety laws going into affect in Wisconsin and I am left to hang my head after reading it.

The new law states any child less than 4'9" tall and 80lbs must be in a booster seat while in a car.

I am 4'7" and 70lbs...and will be 25-years-old next month.

*sigh*

I guess this means someone should buy me a car seat for my birthday, huh?

Thursday, February 02, 2006

My Monologue

I don’t know when exactly it was that I stopped missing you. It certainly happened in stages. It was really hard for me at first. You were the person who got me through my day. I’d wake-up every morning with you on my mind. I know that sounds cliché, but it’s true. I’d look at the clock to see if it was too early to call you or text you good morning. We’d try and make other plans. You needed to write and I needed to catch up with friends. But you’d always call me back in a few minutes claiming you were stuck in your story and needed my help. That was my favorite. You gave me purpose and a place to go to where I was safe. Life at home was always a struggle for me. It still is and it always will be. It’s a reality I’ve come to accept. Its painted scars on my heart that go so deep they touch my soul. Things between my father and I are getting better actually. I forget that he too is hurt. All he wants is for someone to acknowledge his existence in this world and my mother isn’t going to give it to him. Oh, no. It’s too late for all that now. I understand her complaints against the man. They are just and valid, but she also claims Christ as her Lord and for that she is suppose to forgive., but she won’t and I don’t think she ever will. This is why my relationship with her is falling apart. She tells me I don’t go to church like I used to and tells me all of my problems are because of this. This from a woman too full of herself to see the man she sleeps in the same bed with every night is pleading for mercy. Besides, I talk to God every night. He whispers in my ear and tells me that I am beautiful. That he gave me a rainbow soul, a head full of stars and womb the size of heaven. He collects my tears in a crystal bowl and tells me he’s gonna save them to baptize my first born in them. I asked him if I was baptized in my mother’s tears, and he said no. Her tears were too bitter. He used the tears of St. Lydia, patron saint of artists and that’s how I came to be a painter. He tells me my tears are sweet and that I shouldn’t worry. And as he leaves I would ask him to stop by your bed and whisper in your ear that I love you.

Do you remember that time when we were at Sarah’s when she was upset over her boyfriend and as we left her house, I gave her a hug and said “I love you.” She didn’t know what to say and it made for an awkward moment. Do you remember what you said to me when we got into the car? You told me I liked to throw that word love around. You said I degraded its meaning. But it was you who said that you loved me, that I was your heart and that you couldn’t imagine spending the rest of your life without me. It was also you who, two weeks later, said you loved me, but was no longer in love with me. You were in love with her and that you didn’t want to hurt me, but you just had to follow your heart on that. But, you said I was your heart and I’m sure you’ve told her she was your heart as well. Maybe it is you who degrades the meaning of love. I know what it is when I say it. I meant it when I said I loved you for your ability to put your soul in my head through your words. I meant it when I said I loved you for your laughter while I threw snowballs at you in the car. I meant it when I said I loved you when you cried about missing your father, despite how he treated you and your mother. I meant it when I said I loved you for the way you kissed my ear the day I picked up the paintbrush for the first time. I meant it when I said I loved you by coming to hospital every day you were sick. I meant it when I said I love you for telling me I was right. Pain isn’t just black or blue. It’s bright orange, pale pink, ocean blue, deep plum purple and moves in ways that can frighten and inspire all in one breath. I meant it when I whispered I love you into your ear as you slipped away from me and out into the blue.

I don’t know exactly when it was that I stopped missing you. You left me here and there and allowed me to take my life back piece by piece. I’m still at home, living with my shadows, painting with my colors, planning my great escape. I don’t know what’s going to happen, but something tells me you already know how this will all end.

I Trust You to Kill Me

This is the name of Rocco DeLuca & The Burden's CD. I love it. "I Trust You to Kill Me" is the agreement that an artist has with the people who consume their work. When you bear your soul for your art you are, in a sense, killing yourself for it. And when you present that art, either hanging on a wall, fluttering around the room in your music, or printed on a page, you are asking people to relive that experience and to make it theirs. You are trusting them to kill you.

I was suppose to have a monologue for drama done last week, but I couldn't get anything out. I've been struggling with my poetry class as well and it's been bothering me a lot. So much so, I've been in tears at my computer. I knew last night that I would, for sure, have to present something to my class today, but nothing was coming to me.

So, I sat at my computer listening to DeVotchKa, contemplating the phrase, "I Trust You to Kill Me", because last night, I still didn't have a solid grasp on that concept. It was when I got on the theme of putting your soul and blood onto the page that my monologue came out. It took about 15 mins. I started with one thing I wanted to say, but it ended somewhere completely different.

I wasn't sure what to make of it, or if I should even take it into class to read. It was so personal! I couldn't even get through reading it once with out breaking down in tears, how was I suppose to do it in front of my class? But something was really pushing me to do it. So, I took it into class this morning and read it for everyone. I didn't break down, but my voice faltered and cracked a few times.

It was while I was reading my monologue that I realized I got the phrase, "I Trust You to Kill Me." I had killed myself last night on that page and I was doing it again in front of the class. I knew I was right when I looked up and saw the looks on everyone's faces. I can't describe it, but it is my most treaured moment now. I knew they got it and their discussion of it proved it.

They discussed the character and spitted back to me, my life. Everything about me, right there and they were excited to have gotten to know me. It was a little surreal. I've never had that experience before and I hope and pray that I get it again.

I need to edit just a few parts. Put some "and's" and "so's" in there to take the monologue less from just a list of things I want to say and make it more like a stream of conscious thought, but when I finish with that later tonight, I will post it. I'd like to share that experience with you all. But for now, I'm going to spend some time with my mother.

Wednesday, February 01, 2006

DeVotchKa(stephaniedosen)DeVotchKa

Now, I know what you all are thinking. Your thinking, "But Steph, I thought you loved Rocco DeLuca and the Burden. I thought you wanted to make love to Rocco's fucking DOBRO and that you are in a state of constant euphoria, wriggling around on the ground while you listened to their music. What's all this, DeVotchKa and Stephanie Dosen bullshit? Damn, you are FICKLE woman!"

It's true that I have found some more arists that I am juuuuuust FLIPPING out over, but Rocco holds a special place in my heart. I am seriously condering moving to Los Angeles just for him, so I can see Rocco and his band every night they play. I'll be living in a van selling bags on the pier anyway, I can set my own hours, call in sick, run to be where ever they are, when ever. It's all good. The point is, I'm not over Rocco DeLuca OR The Burden OOOOORRRRR that damn Dobro that makes every inch of my flesh vibrate when Rocco strums it's strings. I still love them.

But Stephanie Dosen and DeVotchKa are far too amazing to pass up, simply because I am head over heels in love with a group of men I have never met and are making my plans to drug them and trick them into becoming my harem.

Stephanie Dosen has a voice that is as smooth as silk with lyrics to match. They bleed from one line to next. Her music moves effortlessly and paints colors and pictures in my head using real emotions. She blows me away.

DeVotchKa...damn you. You blow my mind. The onion said it best, they are "amazing and unpredictable" and that is just the absolute truth...unless you're Pinter, then you should give me a call, so we can discuss DeVotchKa. The # is 800-YOU-R-CRAZY.

Anyway, these other artists are just as amazing as Rocco and his Burden, so please check them out....I trust you to kill me.... (ooooOOOOOoooooOOOOOoooooOOOOOooooo, erica gets it.)

Stephanie Dosen

DeVotchKa
and of course,
Rocco DeLuca and The Burden
(and leave me comments. Let me know what you think about these guys! I'd like to know!)