Saturday, August 20, 2011

Netflix- you are the cruelest sometimes

Could someone tell me why SAY ANYTHING isn't on instant watch? I wanted to get my Lloyd Dobler on, and I'm a bit pissed at being thwarted.

Would it kill them to put it up there? Especially since they want to go to all digital.

In my wanderings, I did find out that they have the entire season/series of MY SO-CALLED LIFE on streaming, and I'm trying very hard to talk myself out of a marathon. I don't need to spend the next 19 hours in a teenage wasteland.

I have to admit, I'm sorely tempted. Jordan is so pretty. Rickie is such a great best friend. Rayanne is a delightful mess.

But I must be strong.

That sounded wrong

Despite my wangsting to the contrary, my brother's son was a good baby.

As a matter of fact, compared to my new standard* of judging children, he was an awesome tyke.


*My new standard** is going by little Mikey from TRUE BLOOD. So yes, seeing as my nephew didn't pop a blood vessel in my eye, didn't write disturbing messages on the wall, and didn't set the house on fire, I'd say he was downright perfection.

**My old standard is Damien Omen, although I can't really remember him as a baby/toddler, but the kid was evil. Between THE OMEN and THE SHINING, I've been freaked out by little kids riding Big Wheels. Either they're getting up to some shit in a haunted hotel or just waiting for you to climb a ladder before knocking you the hell off it. Man, I'm glad Big Wheels fell out of fashion.

I do refer to the kid in THE OMEN as Damien Omen, and I swear people in my family do too.

Friday, August 19, 2011

I don't care if they're not real...

They're spectacular.

My new timesink is Texts from Last Night.

Hours of amusement made of solid gold.

The posts almost make me want to get a cell phone* because I have the feeling everyone around me is writing and receiving awesome texts, and I am missing out.

The posts also confirm that people out there are living lives that span the full spectrum of epic.


*I should just say phone, but I can't. It's like I'm in one of those turn-of-the-century books where phone is written 'phone in a quaint way because the tele was left off.

Adventures in babysitting

My one-year-old nephew was up while his father was at school.

Everyone kept on saying what a good baby he is. The best: good-natured, even-tempered, a regular little effing angel.

You know what? A good baby is still a baby. A good baby is still prone to shitting, peeing, puking, and drooling.

That's why I teach high school. A good teenager is polite, friendly, hard working, and just might change the world.

A good baby can't even change his own diapers.

Whilst the little cherub was here, I caught a lot of subtext from my family about the superiority of women who have children over women who don't. Just little rancid whiffs of bias.

Just enough to make me a freaking basket case when I was tapped for baby-sitting. I had a panic attack while feeding the kid- convinced that I had cut his food wrong, not only wrong but into the optimal size and shape for choking (he lived).

When he started crying and wouldn't stop, I was certain his baby spidey sense had picked up on my childlessness state, and my lack of motherhood had broken his good nature into a thousand pointed shards.

So I started crying with him.*

Eventually he stopped, and when my other brother arrived to take over baby duty, I told him what happened, and he said, "Yeah, he gets moody."

1. Those were some of the sweetest words anyone in my family has ever said to me.
2. Would've been nice to know that.
3. See? Perfect babies are still drags.


*I was having a hard week, but no one believes that someone who's on summer vacation can have a hard week, and while I don't ask people to sympathize (because pretty much the rest of the world doesn't have two months of vacation), I do offer that even if I were on summer vacation and spent the whole time riding a unicorn and getting hickeys from Ryan Gosling, I would still get the blues.

I will cut a bitch or make her a sandwich

Two things about the concert:

1. I was sitting next to a total douche. He was quite the asshole even during the concert, but after the show was over and ten thousand people were trying to leave, he started pushing me. I turned around and said, "Really? Pushing me is not going to get you out of here faster." Then he said, "C'mon, move. Time is money."

I said, "You're going to go headfirst down those stairs if you don't keep your fucking hands off me."

When my sister Ella shot me a concerned look, I told her, "I'm going to beat the fucking shit out of him."*

He stopped pushing me and even stepped back a few feet because that's what you do when someone gives you the crazy.

2. After the show and in the parking lot waiting for the cars to clear, I jumped up to help two people who were having a hard time getting into traffic. I hate trying to maneuver out of tight spots in my car (or in my self), especially when there's a crowd around, and figured that since I was there and my beer wouldn't run off, I could help.

My fantasy is that one of the drivers is friends with the douche, and when they told each other about their encounters with strangers, they would have no idea that they were talking about the same woman.


*My replies were very unlike me. Most times I keep my anti-social to myself and friends and family. However, this guy had it coming. I even let him have the armrest during the concert.

Looking back on the concert

It's comforting that when nostalgia goes wrong, nobody ends up bleeding or dead. The closest comparison is to eating stale bread (not moldy, just a bit hard) or drinking milk that's not spoiled, but not Little-House-on-the-Prairie delightful.

We missed all but two songs of Nightranger's set, but since we did catch "Sister Christian," I can't complain. "Sister Christian" was penultimate, and the last song they did was "Still Rock in America." Again, no complaints from me.

Foreigner came out ahead of the three bands because they embraced the nostalgia schtick and didn't play any new shit. The lead singer (a replacement- which kind of sucked because even though I don't know who the original singer was, I was completely invested in his being at the show) thought he was Steven Tyler, but he gave his heart to all the songs. The sax solo in "Urgent" was brutal and killed a little bit of my soul, but I gave the sax player an A for effort even though he should've brushed up on his part before the show. I didn't know musicians could forget or gravely screw up on songs they've performed hundreds of times. Yet they played "Jukebox Hero" and "Cold as Ice," which were my must-play songs, and they played the hell out of them.

"I've Been Waiting" was played as well, and as much as I tried to summon up my high school pain, I couldn't. I could actually see the humor of the situation.

One more thing about the Foreigner set: When they played "Dirty White Boys," they showed a picture of Marlon Brando, Elvis, and James Dean. And they kept on showing the same pictures. How hard would've been to get more examples of dirty white boys and/or different pictures of those paragons of dirtiness and boyness? Don't they have access to google images?

Journey made the colossal mistake of playing new shit. Bands need to understand that they should stick with the oldies because that's why the fans are there. Journey needs to stop trying to make New!Journey happen- it's not going to no matter what they do.

But they did play "Wheel in the Sky" and "Don't Stop Believing," which were my must-play songs for them.

Even though the show wasn't as good as Heart/Def Leppard, I still enjoyed the tailgating and concert. The 80s bands may be showing their wear, but I don't regret this nostalgia phase.

Two star-crossed lovers meet their fate

This here is my new best friend. Or boyfriend. Or Kenobi.

Don't laugh- our love is pure like the glass half full of rose-colored water.

What a shame two soulmates will be thwarted in this lifetime because of geography.