I just wanted to share the stars

Almost two years ago, my parents had a slight flooding problem due to my brother's inattentiveness. Since their bedroom was the most affected, they had to relocate to the bedroom Sis and I shared for 18 years.

When I came home from Burbank on a visit, the first thing my dad said to me was, "Who put the stars up on the ceiling?" I thought he would be angry that we ruined the paint or something, but then he continued, "It's the most peaceful thing to do...sleep under the stars." He couldn't stop talking about it! If you knew my dad, then you're aware that when he really REALLY liked something, he would never shut up about it. He was just awestruck by some haphazardly placed glow in the dark stars the we stuck on the ceiling by jumping up and down on our beds. I loved the stars too, but after years of sleeping under them I took them for granted. 

Tonight, as I stare up at the same stars, all I can think about is my dad, sleeping peacefully underneath them not so long ago. And it might just be me, but tonight they're shining just a little bit brighter than they normally do.

6/14/39-1/15/10

June Gloom

Alas, I'm bored. Surprise, surprise. Yes, I did say alas. I am such an ass. Sorry, that was crass. No need to harass. You're welcome.

Here are some random thoughts that have been on my mind:

To all you couples: being a third wheel sucks. I know, you guys try to make that tag along feel included, but they don't. No matter how hard you try, it will always be awkward. Don't feel bad, just let them stay at home the next time you two go out. The same goes for fifth and seventh wheels as well. Just because you add more couples doesn't make it better.

When I'm having a bad day, I like to take detours through parking garages when I go for walks. I like to anger the parade of cars slowly following me through the lot in the hopes that I am going to my car. The fuller the garage, the better. I highly recommend anyone to try this when they're feeling cranky. It makes you feel a little bit better. Yes, it might bite you in the ass if one of the drivers suffers from being an asshole, but take that chance. It's worth the risk?

I have absolutely no power in my job. In turn, I have to spend most of my day getting yelled at for things that are out of my control. I'm sure I'm not alone. Please consider this the next time you encounter anybody who works directly with you: waiters, hostesses, sales clerks, cashiers, etc. They are not in control of the company, they are not to blame for prices, they do not get paid enough to deal with your crap. Leave them be.

I wish companies would stop abusing the word "natural." They are totally taking advantage of the many Americans who are trying to be healthy but still want to eat Wheat Thins. Check the nutrition facts, people. Fat is still natural. Corn syrup is considered natural because it originally came from corn. Oil? Super natural.

It only takes two minutes from my day, but for some reason, I dread refilling my water bottles. I don't know why, but they are a pain, and I procrastinate and curse those damn BPAs in bottled water or whatever is leaking from the plastic. I know, Life is soooo hard.

Unless I have a visceral reaction to seeing a child, do not make me talk to yours. I'd understand if  I would start oohing and aahing and smiling like an idiot every time I saw a kid, but I don't. I tend to ignore small children unless they talk to me, and then it's because I'm too polite not to respond. But all these parents want me to see their kids for some reason,especially people I have never met before. I'm just selling you a ticket, lady. Don't hoist the kid up to say hi.

What did I ever do before I put hot sauce on my mac n'cheese? Eat like a simpleton?

I'm really glad I'm a girl for countless reasons, but recently I'm thankful for the mere fact I can get away with ordering a lemon drop martini. I'm still judged, but (hopefully) only slightly pitied.

I know it's not the best look for me, but if I could get away with wearing t-shirts, jeans, and flip-flops all the time, I totally would. I already do about 90% of the time, but I'm just waiting for the day when I can show up to a wedding in my usual outfit and not get stared at. It's what I feel the most comfortable in, personality wise. Like, if you pictured me, I'd totally be in a t-shirt and jeans. Never a dress, or a nice going out shirt, or palazzo pants. Fun fact, I used to wear palazzo pants back in the day. That's right. I don't apologize for my outfit choices pre-teenage years.

Thyme puns=comedy gold. Seriously, you can't lose! We're out of thyme. I don't have enough thyme. Thyme is on my side. I mean, come on! It's great.

Not everyone enjoys puns as much as I do.

Pun is an awesome word to write, and to say aloud. Try it. Pun. Pun. It's just so quick! Pun. Let the "un" vibrate off the roof of your mouth. Pun. Ok, I'll stop.

I want to thank yesterday's rain for giving me another two months until I have to wash my car.

Renovating the Remakes

Why does Hollywood feel the need to remake everything? I'll answer that, thank you very much. It's because of money. They don't give a shit about how good it'll turn out because they know people will still come and see the remake out of curiosity alone. Maybe the producers have told themselves that it's going to be even better than the first, but those few remakes that accomplished that are the exception, not the rule. Maybe the creativity pool is so shallow that they can't even think to steal an idea from an old movie and put it in a new one. It's probably not that trendy to belong to a creativity pool in Hollywood anyways. If it was creativity Bikram yoga, it would be a different story.

Everyone knows that drama, music, and art rely heavily on "borrowing" from others, and it's ok! People have been doing it for thousands of years. And even though purists (a.k.a. douchebag artistes) turn their nose up at it and spend a whole lifetime attempting to invent something new, they can't escape it.

Now, buckle up, my army posse gathering obligated group of readers, I'm about to blow your mind. No, I'm not. I'm sorry. I'm so bad at hype.

Why don't we remake the bad movies? You know, aside from the crappy remakes. You can just leave those alone. Don't you ever watch a bad movie, and just want to yell cut and change things up? I've seen some movies that initially had a great plot, then the writer(s) had a stroke and started typing up complete nonsense and deviating from the original story line*. Or the movies that look like someone has watched every "great" movie of a genre, then they believe that by combining all the best moments that made each individual movie stand out into their movie, it'll be an instant masterpiece. Or the movies that just don't know when to cut a scene. I know, it's the funniest scene in the movie, but it has no business being there. Sometimes you have to kill your babies. And I don't mean that in a drown your kid in the bathtub way. It's more of a teen abortion kind of way. Did I just joke about abortion? You betcha! It's cool guys, my mom prays for me.


First on the list? When in Rome. I watched this movie knowing fully well that it would be terrible, and it was. First remake idea? KEEP IT IN ROME. I mean, come on! Don't put a city in the title and then base it in yet another city. It's not like you needed to move it to a more interesting city. Rome, from what I have heard, is pretty awesome, and it's in the most awesome country in Europe! Again, I have not been there, but I am Italian, so I've been raised on a bias.

Then we can hit up the sequels. Just because the first movie was a success does not mean you can recycle the jokes and the premise and expect it to be as successful. As a basic writing exercise, why don't you treat the movie like a tv show? Those writers have to put the same characters in new premises week after week, and usually, it takes about five seasons before the writing gets sloppy and the characters turn into caricatures of their former selves. I haven't seen the Hangover 2, but I assume it will not go off as well as the first. Why do I think that? Hmm, let's see...maybe because they lost someone again, and Stu has something permanently damaging done to his face again, and Mike Tyson is in it, AGAIN! Plus, it looks like Ken Jeong has a bigger role, and I just can't pay money for that, I just can't.

What about Gigli? Didn't see it, but I heard it was bad. So, someone shouldgo back and work on that. Pretty much just remake every movie JLo was in, and start it off with casting a better actress. Done. Classic!

Ok, there are tons more that I can write all day about, but I am at work and they are paying me to pay attention to customers, whether I want to or not. But think about it, wouldn't you be just a little curious to see a remake of a bad film? My idea probably won't ever get off the ground, you know because it's more about artistic integrity and not about making any money whatsoever, but it's a noble thought. Yes, I did just deem my thought as noble. What of it? I don't hear any of you praising me. I've got to do it on my own or I'd be a mess of insecurities.


*To all you writers out there, I am aware that scripts can be butchered by horrible producers, and I'm not really blaming you. I'm blaming the scabs who are hired to "rework" your script. Or maybe I'll just blame it on the a-a-a-a-a-alcohol.

Chivalry is getting resuscitated

I hear women whining all over the blogosphere (mental note to self: never use the word blogosphere ever again unless you want to start bleeding from the ears): "Chivalry is dead. Men aren't the way they used to be. Blah blah blah open my car door for me." The blogosphere(damn it) also tells me that chivalry is incredibly sexist. By opening doors for ladies, or pulling a chair out for their date, or even throwing their coat on a puddle, these misogynists assume that us lil' ladies are too frail to do anything ourselves. These two opposing voices are constantly bickering, setting the blogosphere (I can't stop writing it!) afire and frankly, I feel like they're making me choose sides and I don't like it, not one bit.

I will say this: I do enjoy when someone holds a door open for me. It warms my hardened heart. It doesn't matter whether or not it is opened by a man or a woman, it's nice to know someone who doesn't know you cares. Yes, a man opening the door will beat a woman any day, hands down, but I'll take what I can get.

I have noticed that doors aren't opening as often as they used to, and by used to, I mean way back in the late 90's. This is just a theory, but I think circa Sex and the City (yes I am referencing SATC and trying to make a valid point of it so leave me alone, my ears are bleeding for God's sake!) era, a lot more women began shedding the damsel in distress act* and taking on the superheroine roll, and most men had a super big hissy fit and decided (like the little boys they are and will always be) that if women are going to start being more independent, then they have to open their own damn doors. That'll teach 'em! They can ask men out on dates for a change! How's that, equal rights amendment supporters!
Forget those men, but don't forget the feeling you got when they ran to pull your chair out before you got there. I say bring it back, ladies. If men aren't going to do it, you might as dominate this area of life as well. I have already taken initiative. I've always held open doors for people, especially guys. It's awesome. They don't know how to feel about it! There's a slight hesitation, but with a tilt of my head, they enter, their heads lowered (in shame?) with a quiet thanks.
Naturally, the thought that they may just be surprised that anyone is opening a door for them, and the hesitation could be the fear that I will dart in front of them and let the door hit them in the shoulder has crossed my mind. But for now, I'm going with female chivalry. It's more fun. We can so take on the male duties while they wait for their balls to grow back.

Just try it. It's a lot of fun. Promise. Bonus points: it just makes for a politer** world. With crappy things happening on a daily basis (Syria killing 30 protesters, Pakistan passive-aggressively threatening the US, Jennifer Aniston is in yet another movie), any good deed is a welcome change.

If you will excuse me, there are some bloody ears I need to attend to.

Blogosphere. (WHY GOD WHY?)

*There are still women out there who use this, and they should be avoided at all costs. I have no respect for them.
** Is that a word?***
***Yes it is. Spellcheck did not harp on me. But did I use it correctly?****
****Microsoft Word didn't have a problem with it, so there.

I'm not talking about the pantyhose color

Cold hard truth: Boring people exist.
Another cold hard truth: You can't avoid them. No matter how hard you try.

I was lucky for a while. My weird parents ("We are not weird!" my mother's voice shrieks in my head) always had interesting friends for the most part. I grew up as a weird child, and naturally that attracts some unique individuals who are either drawn to you or vice versa. I was involved in theater from a young age, so I constantly had a healthy dose of "colorful" people in my life. This is where I first encountered homeschoolers. Enough said.

 It wasn't until high school that my eyes were opened, and what stood before me was a being unlike any I had ever seen before. A boring person. A Beige* if you will. Beige's are sneaky. They don't talk much, so you think they're all shy at first, so you make it a point to get to know them. It's a trap, don't do it! They lure you in on the pretense of mystery, then once the door has shut, you realize that they just don't have anything to say about anything. At all. Mystery solved, and you are the winner of a Beige friend.

I had a Beige friend in high school that my mom made me hang out with, and for a while, things weren't so bad. She laughed at everything I had to say. She never disagreed with me. We never argued! Then one day, as I finished telling her an apparently hilarious story, I looked up and saw her laughing with the blankest look on her face and it hit me: she's a Beige. Well, I didn't say that in my head. I just came up with that term all of 10 minutes ago. Focus, people. What I did say to myself was, "OH MY GOD SHE'S BORING. SHE'S SO BORING. RUN. RUN NOW BEFORE IT'S TOO LATE." Sadly, I was in class, so I had to continue sitting there, but everything had changed. It all became so clear. We had never had an actual conversation, just monologues, she had no personal opinions about anything which made it hard to disagree on issues, and even though I love people laughing at my witty repartee, I am aware that not everything I have to say are gems. Just ask my boss.

Even worse is when you realize that adults you have known for some time are also boring. That hurts, man. I was raised to respect adults in my life, and it is SO HARD to do so when you have a frozen look of horror mixed with pity on your face as they tell you the most mundane story EVER.** Their houses smell of canned green beans and defeat. You want to save their children from their own boring fate, but it's too late. They're already staring at walls with adoration in their eyes. "How do I get to that state?"

Thankfully, I know very few Beige's, but it feels like a lot when you have constant contact with them. I once experienced a grouping of them in a bar, it was pathetic. They all just sat around and waited for someone to begin a topic of conversation. Oh, and it was St. Patrick's Day. Yes, Anna Lisa, I'm talking about your friends. The effect was overwhelming. Too many Beige's in one room and I start to have a panic attack.

As fun-sucking as they are, boring people were put on this earth for a reason. Someone needs to work complacently in cubicles. That's the only reason I could think of. What did the cavemen do with Beige's? Use them as bait to lure animals out of hiding? They probably just remained in the caves inventing math. I do know that this is not chronologically correct, that math was probably invented by brighter versions of humans, but I didn't say that I was a genius. Just ask my mom. All I have to say is this: I may be a little slow, but at least I'm not boring.


*FYI I'm calling boring people Beige's from now on. Spread the word, it will catch on, but you must credit me with the coining of the name.

**These stories are not to be confused with animal stories. Although not great conversation on say, a first date, they are still kind of awesome to hear unless the teller of the story refers to said animal as "My furbaby." Even if this phrase is uttered, it is still not a boring story. Just pure craziness. And still better than a boring story.

Notes from my Netflix

Dear Angela,
We get it. You like comedy. Hows 'bout we round out your viewing palate and get some classics in there for ya? Oh, wait, you do have the classics in your instant queue! I misjudged-and now you're choosing Veronica Mars over Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. Niiiiice. Let me know how that works out for ya. I'm shortening "you" so you understand how sarcastic I can be. I think it's stupid, but Boris in shipping says that you, excuse me, ya wouldn't get that when it's on paper. Boris is an idiot, but apparently, so are ya.

Hey now, don't get upset. I'm just here to remind you of the reason why you signed up for Netflix in the first place! I believe it was because you have seen very little of cinematic masterpieces out there and wanted to, at the very least be sure of who said "You can't handle the truth!"

Ok, and now The Pianist is disc-only! It was on your queue for months! MONTHS! I don't understand how you can ignore such a magnificent film like that. Well, yes, it is about WWII and kind of a downer, but well worth it-
     REALLY? Beauty and the Briefcase? It's a LIFETIME MOVIE for god's sake! According to your preferences, I am going to tell you now for sure that you will hate it. You won't even get past the opening credits! Go and watch An Education, you'll regret it less. No? Ok, it's your funeral-yeah I was right. You lost interest 10 minutes in. Now go and watch-Stop adding more smart movies to your queue! You'll never watch them!

Ok, that's it! Boris told me to end the letter here but I just can't stand it anymore! You want to be pandered to? Well, here are your suggestions! Frank Caliendo stand up! What do you think about that? Grown ups! What a gem of a movie! The Roast of William Shatner! How much are you hating this right now? SPINAL TAP-wait, that's a good one, how did that get in here? Goddamn it Boris.
You don't even understand how badly I am mocking you right now Angela! I hate your guts! It's people like you who don't deserve to own a Netflix subscription! I hate my job!

Dearest Angela,
We would like to express our sincerest apologies for the previous letter. As of today, that employee no longer is with us. And that is in no way, shape, or form your fault. Yes, it is true that the moment he discontinued his rant he proceeded to attack fellow Netflix employee Boris Vander Ark, throw him into a supply closet and hold him for ransom, but there was truly no way you could have seen that coming. I thought he was going to throw himself off the roof of our building. I was partially right. Once we had him surrounded he headed for the stairs. Someone on the 23rd floor apprehended him, so he just jumped out of one of their windows. I don't know why I'm explaining this to you in great detail. Oh yes, Boris said you had a right to know. Near-death experience or not, I really hate that guy.
So, continue to enjoy your Netflix service. Feel free to watch whatever you want. Aside from the deceased employee, no one cares about your preferences-seriously? Party Down yet again? You've already watched that four times already! God you're hopeless. The Jerk won't be available after the 6th! Watch that instead!

Sincerely ashamed of you,
Netflix

Read or ignore if you want, but I'm awesome either way

I am a pretentious little (well, 5'7, so average?) shit. I realize that now as I reread my past posts. I want to apologize to you lovely people, but I'm not that sorry. I am who I am. I could fix it, but then I'd be perfect, and that's no fun. And this not my way of forcing all of you to disagree with me by telling me that I am awesome and in no way, shape, or form have I ever acted like the smart ass that seeps out of my comedic (to me at least) musings. I am, however, accepting compliments in the form of how cute I was as a baby (just look at my profile picture!) and how soft my hair is (no bragging, it's just the truth). Those never get old.

I could begin a new transformation, start wiping the smug off my face and appeal to the world as a humble person. But it's too late for that, and I do like knowing that I'm better than you. And you may smile at this, and think that I'm so clever and just joshing, but it's the truth. I am. But you don't care, because you think that you're better than me for having the same exact thoughts but better sense than to post them on a blog. And I can't say that I disagree with you; but no matter what you say (or think) I am definitely better than you.

I blame my parents for this attitude, just as you should blame your parents for your high self-importance. They think we are, as the flappers and hopefully no one in this day and age would say, the bees-knees. We're not perfect, no, but our wrong doings are quickly erased every time we do something extraordinary. In their minds, of course. To everyone else who didn't raise you from birth, it's worthy of a giant eye roll. Our parents (at least mine, because they're awesome. Or were, RIP Pops) raised us to believe that we are special. No, we are beyond special: we are truly unique. Sadly, all of us unique individuals are not so. We go out into the world, meet new people, and are astonished to believe that they have the exact same interests/talents/tastes as us! WHAT? Surely this means a long lasting friendship! How odd that I have found someone exactly like-oh wait, that other person over there is just like me as well-and that person. Fuck. Thanks a lot, Ma. Parents are the reason American Idol auditions are the most entertaining part of the show. They fill us with so much confidence in our minimal skills that we don't have the good sense to separate the subjective from the objective.

I don't really know the point I'm trying to get across-oh, yes I do. Even though I have a high opinion of myself that may or may not be true (jury's still out), I could care less, because without it, I just wouldn't be me. And you guys would be at a loss of being able to judge someone on a monthly basis (or whenever I get around to posting). AND, furthermore, this blog would be put to use for something super boring, like cats or the knitting pattern I'd just finished. And no, I'm not saying cat stories aren't fun. If you knew me, you know I love me some cat stories. But I am aware that not everyone enjoys them as much as I do. And knitting is super...cool. I know nothing about it, but I'm sure the fuzzy scarves are definitely worth the time put in. Please don't stab me with those needles Mags.


Just a reminder to the ones I consider friends, remember how you perceived me before you read this? Just stick with that image. This never happened.