7 February, 2010 04:07

See? They got to me already…Haha!!

Panic & Madness Ensue

Ours is a paranoid society. Just yesterday people were eager to rush to their homes not because it was Friday, but because of the announcement of snow. Snow that took FOREVER to come. Snow that didn’t last half as long as the weather reports blasting on every station.

Turns out that paranoia has become the norm, not the exception. It permeates every aspect of our lives, preventing us from enjoying life. There’s paranoia surrounding our foods: chocolate, drinking water, and coffee have all been the victims of bad press. So have our hobbies, thanks to internet predators, violent video games, and a ridiculous television rating system preceding most programs. I can’t cheat the system since right now technology’s tapping into my android device as I type this. I can be tracked through GPS, satellite, and hidden camera. I can’t even reprimand a bad, overly rambunctious child without being threatened with bodily injury, a harrassment lawsuit, or worse!

But back to the snow storm. I’m no conspiracy theorist, but when the top story on the 6 o’clock news is the snow storm that turns out to be a trickle, I question the rationale behind it. People should question the intentions since we have learned that sometimes these worries and fears turn out to be true. Remember the recent episode of Nova’s covering the discovery that our country was illegally wire-tapping the public’s conversations? Oh, you missed that episode? I guess it wasn’t important enough to warrant an announcement on the news. Good thing the major channels can promote less troublesome shows like Family Guy. One would hate to miss that. (By the way, there’s a lawsuit pending still about whether the government is going to press charges againstp those responsible for those wire-taps) Nevermind the invasion of privacy, all. You won’t hear about it as much as you’ll hear about Brad Pitt’s beard. So you get why paranoia is a business that sways your public rights, votes, views. You alone can stop the machine. Or, you can

Finding Humor in Haiti

I like so many others was forced into watching that horribly depressing Haiti telethon which dominated all tv stations everywhere. As I watched the horrible film footage, though, I couldn’t help but be cynical as I thought about why Americans once again are called to aid another impoverished country when Americans are suffering the worst financial crisis since The Great Depression. Without a doubt, this was certainly an unexpected and terrible event, but where are Haiti’s leaders? Where’s the millions we’ve already given? What happened to tourist dollars?

Then, there’s the ridiculousness of out-of-control fundraising. What happened to the Red Cross surplus from Louisiana?? Are you telling me that those music performers weren’t also thinking about record sales?? When was the last time Wyclef or Madonna made a successful album? Who bought out those primetime timeslots to air this nonsense??

Think about it, people. Aren’t you pissed that while America’s raising your taxes & stripping away your health-care benefits, that they are demanding that you "dig deeper" into your wallets to help rebuild a country that already had a government stealing from its people? Why do we constantly have to find the means to sacrifice stretch and rebuild when George Clooney single-handedly can donate $1 million of his own personal stash and Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie can afford to adopt their own rainbow coallition?? Let’s not forget the speedy bill-pass to make sure Americans can get a tax break for their generosity. What the government doesn’t tell you is that right now tax breaks generally benefit those who earn the most. Does that sound fair?! Oh, wait. I’m being a bit negative, right. Well, where were the local police in Haiti? Did I see any coverage of them. Of course not. They were too busy protecting the tourists and wealthy. Tell me they weren’t. Puhlease.

Now onto that hilarious telethon. Taylor Swift’s non-existent coversation and Stephen Spieldberg’s over-indulgent one. What was that perforamnce of Halleluyah by Justin Timberlake? Didn’t anybody ever hear those lyrics before? Not exactly appropriate. Then Madge’s Like A Prayer performance. May as well have been Like A Virgin. RobPat’s and Brad Pitt’s beards could have done show all by themselves. What about the odd-pairing of The Champ, Mohammad Ali & Chris Rock? It was funny as Chris is explaining that a clearly pre-written statement on a teleprompter came from/ The Champ. The look on Mohammad’s face betrayed that story. Beyonce’s maudlin version of Halo was better, but I could of done without the term, Haiti. That was overkill. Too bad I didn’t see Katy Perry sing her rendering of "I Kissed A (Haitian) And I Liked It". Or, Lady GaGa, for that matter with her calypso version of "Papa-(Chango)". Lameness.

Now that we’re committed to World Aid, looks like the rest of us will have to live off Ramen noodles & table scraps. That’s ok though. At least we’ll know where we’re vacationing next year…that is if we can afford it.

Where is Fiona Apple?

I used to listen to Fiona Apple before she went the way of the Dodo like fellow feminist singer, Sinead O’Connor. Yeah, remember her? Me too. I loved Sinead way before the Saturday Night Live Pope John Paul fiasco…and in spite of its aftermath. I fell equally in love with Fiona. Her voice is haunting, melodic paired with moody lyrics to make a perfect formula for a collegiate’s playlist for the same reason as Sinead. Unfortunately, Fiona shared the same lack of judgement as Sinead, placing her in a similar witch-hunt episode of The Grammy Awards. In a deja vu moment worthy of Marlon Brando, the popular artist committed career suicide

Cuckoo For Yummy Wolf Boys (or Break Me Off a Piece of The Pack)

On 08/30/09, I attended the Twilight Convention 2009 in Parsippany, NJ with my sister, Elizabeth & step-daughter, Sara (Above).  The three-day convention was scheduled for Friday through Sunday.  Of course, since I didn’t plan, the tickets I scored for Friday had one teensy little problem: me and my sis couldn’t get off of work.  Details, details.  So after much freaking out, attempts at reselling (Hello, Craigslist!) and offering the tickets to friends, colleagues and family, I finally got the venue to honor the “non-refundable” tickets for Sunday instead.  Sweet.

Getting to the event was actually easy. 

The day began at 5:30am (when I had told Sara to be ready).  However, I myself didn’t physically leave the house with Eli until about 6:30am (Sorry, Sar).  After we picked her up, it was all business.  With directions in hand, we made our way and luckily, the directions were clear and perfect (Thanks, Mapquest).  We arrived just in time to walk into the main auditorium for the Charity Breakfast. 

The auction itself was for a worthy cause (dispicable cancer) and I felt as though I was kind of a cheater because I wasn’t planning on purchasing anything.  But, I did listen to the public speakers carefully–even though the loud buzz surrounding the guest celebs sort of took the edge off of each testimonial.  While the actors wandered the room, a young woman was attempting to talk distressingly about her battle with the disease while cute boys worked the room…definitely distracting!

We got to meet every actor in close-proximity, though; I was shocked that they each sat down and talked to each table, fielding all sorts of questions and comments.  This was the nicest part of the day because it was so informal and relaxed.  In true I-was-born-under-a-lucky-star form, I had the good fortune of making sure the empty seat for the celebs was right next to Sara so that she could really get her one-on-one time.  It couldn’t have been more perfect.  The downside?  No photographic evidence (except for this one).  Boo and hiss.

We managed to maneuver to a table with two gals from Kentucky and a lovely woman with her two daughters.  They were all friendly and obsessively fanatic which proved to be a plus because it helped inform me on some tidbits that I would have never gotten had they not been there.  The actors were shockingly good-looking, sweet and Disney-nice.  Chaske leaned his foot against Sara’s chair–in repose–and Eli got to shake Kiowa’s hand.  To wit she added, “I’m never going to wash this hand again…except after eating.” LOL!

When the breakfast / auction was over, we went into the ante-room which had all of the sort of fanfare you’d expect to find at any convention: tables filled with memorabilia, photos, trinkets, T-shirts, etc.  We even got to meet the Hillywood gang, a group of teen Twilight impersonators who are just a lovely group.  As hosts of the convention, they also succeeded in reenacting some key Twilight scenes that Twi-hards–like myself–could enjoy.  They did a helluva job and Sara even took some pics with them:

But the best was yet to come…

The first two actors to hit the stage were Justin Chon (Eric Yorkie) and Edi Gathegi (Laurent).  Topics included: James Lipton & Rush Hour impersonations, acting as a profession, and a hilarious impression of a young girl Edi endearingly named, Kelly.  By the end of their Q&A session, I was completely entertained and became a true Edi Gathegi fan.  He was hilarious! 

Another highlight of the convention were the Wolf Pack, which consisted of convention first-timer Kiowa Gordon (Embry), Chaske Spencer (Sam Uley), and Alex Meraz (Paul).  All three were adorable and at one point inspired Sara to new verbal stylings as she yelled, “Yummy Wolf Boys!!!” at the top of her lungs.  I think that’s the most motivated I’ve ever seen her.

 

Overall, Sara got personally autographed photos with some aforementioned Yummy Wolf Boys, Edi Gathegi and Justin Choe (who misspelled her name, but whateverz :p)

The best part was that I instantly became my step-daughter’s hero and female bonds were reinforced so…mission accomplished!

More on Cute Boys

In a past entry, I forgot to mention another one of those things that cute boys do…once again coming from the vault of Robert Pattinson (my latest cougar obsession). 

Not only is he ”sensitive” but the cute boy in question should also be mad talented.  That means, creatively perfect and in some cases a triple-threat.  It can be any variation.  The most common is the singer, dancer, actor.  Although RobPat (as I endearingly call him in my head) is known lately for his acting, he’s also known for his singing talents.  According to IMDB RobPat’s music was leaked by fellow actor, Nikki Reed who plays Rosalie Hale in the Twilight saga.  Of the two songs submitted, only one “Never Think” made it to the final cut.  He did however get to hear his second song, “Let Me Sign” in a screening of the film, much to his reported surprise.

Musicians–especially talented ones–representing a clear indication of creative angst really attract the girls.  So I guess if the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, then the way to a girl’s is through an artist’s scope.  Guaranteed.

Next up: Cute Boys and Uniforms!

Time Travel

Sometimes I wish I could go back in time. Not in a sappy way like this new movie, The Time Traveller’s Wife, but in a cool way like Back to the Future (even if you hate to watch it when it airs on TBS). I’d hop into my flying machine or DeLorean (whatever) and decide to have the time of my life in the 80s, hang out in soda fountains in the 50s, or go naked on lawns in the 60s. Time travel will no doubt jade me about the future because of recession, obsession and lack of pension. So where would I choose to stay? Surely, there’s good and bad in every decade. I mean, the 50s, while a “simpler time” was also wrought with gangs, Mother’s little helper / underground drug use, and violent car crashes thanks to a little game called “chicken”. The 60s were no better with its race riots, assassinations, and political turmoil. The 70s were jam-packed with Serpico-like unrest, bad fashion and disco dives. I guess I’d just stick with the 80s partly because I lived through it and partly because I had a wonderful time. It was time where Worry—that evil creep that came around with the invention of credit cards and Bernie Madoff—didn’t reside. Things were less about war and more about neon. It was a time when Michael Jackson reigned as King of Pop, Pop Rocks ruled, and you didn’t look like a weirdo if you decided to wear Raspberry berets, spandex, mile long scrunched-up tube socks, tutus, leotards or nautical outfits in the middle of Times Square . Anything went as far as fashion. Yes, even shoulder-pads.

Microsoft Get on This:

I was thinking one day…you know, musing as I always do about Microsoft Word fonts and etiquette.  Just then, I had an awesomely devilish idea.  You know how there’s this unwritten rule about how text should never be in all CAPS because it is considered literary yelling?  Well, what if Microsoft designed a text font that would be suitable to use on such occasions?  What if you really wanted to be annoying but Times New Roman or Tahoma just didn’t cut it?  Well, I thought that Microsoft should design something called, “Obnoxious Font”.  That’s right.  It’s a non-verbal way of getting your point across in the most tedious way possible.   Perhaps it would be a series of type that would include already established styles existent in the Word documents today.  Something like: Bold, Italic in size 72 (the largest font in the drop down selection).  But maybe…Microsoft can somehow design a new font and call it Obnoxious Font.  I’m just saying…

Tour of the Century

I am psyching myself up for what promises to be the Tour of the Century for Twilight fans everywhere…TWI TOUR 2009!  Yeah!

First of all, let me begin by stating my recent love affair with all things Twilight.  For those who do not understand the obsession, I refer you to other such phenoms like: Star Trek, Star Wars, and yes, Harry Potter.  Fanaticism is more about the expression of latent psychological needs, wants, desires, and fantasies.  It is about connection and unity.  It is about technology and mutual interests.  When I look at another Twi-fan and scream, “Team Jacob!” at the top of my lungs, there’s a community spirit that I am now a part of.  Now what does a 30-something woman have in common with this series of books to warrant such admiration?  To know the truth, you have to go far back in my history to understand.

I am a movie-buff.  However, when people saw the movie Twilight, they were–to put it mildly–less impressed with the visual representation of the books.  Since I began reading the books AFTER I saw the movie, I agreed with this initial assessment.  I don’t want to say that reading the novels swayed my judgement on the movie as a whole, but in many ways it got me to fully appreciate the nuances in the script, the longing glances, and the slow pace of the film.  There’s a lot going on psychologically to the characters and most of the books reside in internal dialogue that is really, really hard to capture on-screen.  So in that way, the movie was successful.  It brought to life two stunning characters one of which is supposed to be extraordinarily ordinary and the other who is supposed to be supernatural.  My introduction to the series was backward, but when I read them, I understood.  It is a beautiful story albeit disturbing as all relationships can be (at one point or another).  It is also bringing out the hopeless romantic in me!  So I love, love, love the books and am particularly interested in the artsiness of the whole thing.  Hopefully, it turns out great!

As part of my obsession, I’ve uploaded some Twilight sketches I made before and cross-promotion of a very great set of Twilight parody artists: Hindi who’ve created a business out of impersonating Twilight Hilly & Hannah characters.  Watch their stuff on Youtube or follow them on Twitter.  I promise you, they are worth your time.

<a href=”http://twitpic.com/8f6e0” title=”The best photo ever. on Twitpic”><img src=”http://twitpic.com/show/thumb/8f6e0.jpg” width=”150″ height=”150″ alt=”The best photo ever. on Twitpic”></a>

Message To My Dad:

At a period when I need you most, you aren’t there. In the stands cheering, not anywhere. I often thought it wasn’t fair. But lately, I’ve noticed, I just don’t care.
You’re phone lines are disconnected. I tried to call. You’re nowhere to be found at all. Four real lucky stiffs get to have you be the Dad you never were for me. But that’s ok. I’ve changed my mind. I need a Dad who’s present, loving, kind… Along life’s path, I picked up snapshots of better Dads that I could find and built one even if only in my head.
To you it’s done, a “job” to you. On this Father’s Day, that statement’s true.