oh, let's take five indigenous people from a south pacific tribe and bring them to the united states and film their awkward and nervous reactions to airplanes, cars, high rises, champagne corks and skateboards! are you fucking kidding me? this is almost as bad the painfully offensive current reebok television adverts that feature a woman, seen from behind, extolling its butt-firming capabilities while the camera zooms in on her ass. she acknowledges this and says something like "hey buddy, my face is up here" or something. who fucking green lights this shit? are we that fucked up of a culture that people won't even care when women are being dissected for scopophilic pleasure to sell a pair of fucking sneakers?
rhetorical!
little selena is angry today and obviously trying to jump start her little critical thinking brain which has been covered under layers of dust, montepulciano and xanax for years.
anyway, fuck this, i'm going back to school in january.
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abject - humiliating, debasing, degrading
horror - revulsion
why do i feel too fucking stupid to understand kristeva?
ugh help me
brain is mush like cottage cheese
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barbara creed talks about the virgin girl who remains intact and usually is the heroine of many horror films. thinking about this and reviewing "ginger snaps" i am wondering if this film is not at all feminist because it reinforces the sexual binarism of gender and their associated stereotypes.
hmmm
just something to think about for now.
going to reread "monstrous feminine" and probably rewatch "ginger snaps"
just read this article about it.
http://www.thirdspace.ca/articles/3_2_nielsen.htm
i am just thinking out loud.
you can disregard this post.
it's been awhile since i've gotten theoretical.
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i dreamed about the house in forest hills last night. the attic was slowly crumbling and my family was in a panic. my mother said, "put on all of your clothes and let's leave." she was the first to exit the door. i scrambled to find something warm (in the dream, it was winter out) and wound up wearing an army parka and heels. my sister took her damn sweet time. i told my father, "i will call the movers" and they showed up, smoking cigarettes before emptying the dining room's furniture and inexplicably stacking everything in the kitchen. i offered to take my brother out for breakfast, saying "let's bring dad back something vegan." nobody worried about my grandmother who was ensconced in her bedroom. we kind of just waited for the house to collapse on her, but i woke up before it did.
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so i finally remember i need to watch that movie where someone yells "NO WIRE HANGERS." yeah, OK, i go to download "mommy dearest" only to realize that it's a porn from 2008. uh, good job, stupid. the correct title of the movie about joan crawford is called "mommie dearest." and i am going to watch that now while drinking 1/2 a glass of wine (it's all i have left and i'm not buying any more tonight) and not be turned on because it's not porn.
biggest whatever possible!
edited to add: oops, even funnier is that i already watched "mommie dearest" and apparently forgot about it.
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this must be a huge fear for men in cinema - from "the crush" starring alicia silverstone/cary elwes to "fatal attraction" with michael douglas/glenn close to "misery" featuring james caan/kathy bates. and there's that awful vehicle with demi moore and michael douglas, "disclosure." all of these women want something - sex, love, affection, a family, and when they are spurned or denied their desires, they turn into psychotic lunatics, boiling bunnies, filing lawsuits, breaking femurs.
i just watched a really bad movie on lifetime (don't make fun of me, i already hate myself enough for it) about this jealous woman who tends to her dead sister's husband and children. threatened by the entrance of a new woman in his life, she tries to undermine the love interest, even going as so far as to poison her cake with peanuts at her bridal shower.
this is all just stuff floating around in my mind but i'm perplexed by how women are portrayed in cinema - we are not all obsessive, histrionic, jealous creatures. are we, as female viewers, supposed to experience schadenfreude, like "well, at least i would never do that" and revel in some smug self-satisfaction? i don't believe that romantic fixation is gender specific. but we are led to believe that women who are passionate, that express themselves, are terrifying, monsters, even.
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i made a mix.
for a dude.
someone slap me.
i'm not sending it to him though.
i mean come on. girl. you are going on 34 years old and you're going to put NA kicker on it by superdrag?
really?
you are not 15 years old.
stop acting like a teenager.
also, stop craving nachos. you are not pregnant.
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when did i become so boring?
on the upside, i'm not trying to kill myself anymore.
i guess that's a good trade off, right?
i was reading through old LJ entries from five years ago and i was so full of gusto and enthusiasm. now i'm like "who cares. meh." i had so much more drive. or was i fooling myself then, and now i'm no longer faking it? i don't know. is it the medication? is it just me finally accepting that i'll never change?
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so i'm watching this random horror movie and the guy i made out with last week, the one who i went to rye with, is in it! what in god's name. i'm traumatized. my life is a joke.
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1. "story of my life" social distortion
2. "landmine spring" quicksand
3. "waiting room" fugazi
PATRONS OF THE BAR BELOW ME: please stop playing these three songs on the fucking jukebox. they're good songs, great even, but i don't need to hear them 5,000 times a week.
the other night someone played the first track TWICE IN A ROW. TWICE! what the fuck. who does that? if you like this song so much, go listen to it on repeat at home, not pay money for it at a bar where others are forced to listen to your music selections.
however, i do remember this hilarious story my friend told me some years ago: he and a mutual pal went into a bar and after a drink, decided the atmosphere was not to their liking. i think my friend used the term "douchebags." anyway, they pumped the jukebox full of 20$ worth of quarters and put the mariah carey "christmas album" on repeat. then they promptly left.
ha ha ha.
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so A is going to be in town in like, 10 days and we're going to cook a dinner together. apparently someone won his services in a charity auction or something so he has to cook this dinner for them, but we're doing the practice run together. awesome. i asked my friend RA if we could do the practice meal at his place since he has an amazing kitchen in exchange for a free meal and he readily agreed. this is going to be awesome. A said i can be sous chef! aw, fun.
in other news, i have eaten three meals already today and it's only what, 1pm? one bowl of tomato broccoli soup, one huge caesar salad and one bowl of split pea soup. uh. i am a greedy little monkey. but man, every time i go to the market i come home and i get all excited with the ideas because now i have INGREDIENTS and hey! let's do this! let's do that! let's keep on eating! also since i watch the food network ALL THE TIME, i guess i'm constantly inspired. or hungry.
someone asked me how i'm not 300 pounds considering all the food i eat and i answered "i have a hollow leg."
stomp stomp stomp.
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so i'm at the supermarket earlier because i needed to pick up some groceries. hey! broccoli is 99 cents a bunch. awesome, i got three bunches. ooh, broccoli.
anyway, i remember that i need kosher salt. there's two brands available. one is a pound, the other is 13 ounces, and they are priced accordingly, with the heavier box being 40 cents more. i go through a lot of kosher salt because i make a lot of pasta so i'm thinking, "i should get the bigger box" but then i look closely at the package and fucking ROCCO DISPIRITO's SMUG FACE is on it and i think "i don't want his fucking mug in my kitchen every day for the next three months" so i hastily put it back and go with the smaller container and continue on to get some cheese.
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stop watching his show, you dumb ass. he'll be in town in like, 10 days. (but who's counting?)
god he has such smooth, supple skin, the kind you could melt into. and he's so cute! and funny! and smart!
oh shut up.
STOP TEXTING HIM DIRTY MESSAGES! he likes them.
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and a fine one it is, considering i'm eating spinach & mushroom pizza for breakfast. i considered ordering the yankee pie from carmine's last night during the game but i felt that would ring hollow since i'm not really an AL fan. the delivery guy informed me of the score and said that his boss was at the game and matsui had just hit a home run. i was like, "cool!" (what else could i say? i was watching a "law & order: SVU" marathon)
i watched what is quite possibly the world's worst movie ever - "wicked lake." i read a review saying how bad it was, and i guess i just don't take advice well. like, someone could be all, "this soup is really hot" and i'd be like "no it's not" and take a big slurping mouthful and then burn my tongue before yelping, "this soup is really hot." a bunch of vampire lesbians spend a weekend away and are attacked by creepy inbred yokels. it was "i spit on your grave" blasphemed.
in other news, there is no news because i don't do anything other than watch movies, eat pizza and bitch about it on the internet. remember when i was cool? hahaha, i am a boring shut-in now. strangely, i don't mind, but i'm never going to get anywhere if i don't leave the apartment, much less get off the couch.
hey, maybe i'll "start today" -- zzzzzzz
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