Wednesday, April 20, 2016

That hair is NOT ballet hair, btw. The face, though, is Pure Bershon. (TM Sarah Brown)

Tales From the Brain Attic, Part One in an Eventual Series: Will I Ever Dance Again?, by Lurlene McDaniel

Here is what I remember of this thing which I have not seen in a minimum of 20 years (but in this case is actually 30 years), and did not review or fact-check at all except to find a pic of it on the Internets:

There's this girl, whose name I can't remember. She's in high school, and ballet is her LIFE, and but she also sweats some cute boys (of course) but ain't nobody really got time for that because of ballet. She starts feeling weird, almost passing out, thinking it's just because she starves herself for her art. Her little sister is like, "Damn girl, why do you smell like nail polish? And how come you're so thirsty all the time no matter how much you drink?" And she's all "BUTT OUT, TROLL!" But lo! After some sort of incident at school, we discover it's not merely starvation and overexercise -- turns out, she's A DIABETIC!!! How embarrassing! And tragic. She could DIEEEEEE!!! Of the diabeetus! And her mom and dad go all super-helicoptery and want her to cease dancing IMMEDIATELY (docs say, nah man, exercise is good for the diabeetus, you're overruled, psychos). And she almost passes out in class at one point on account of her blood sugars but remembers she's supposed to eat some LifeSavers candies and drink some OJ and she does and it's ok. And then! There's this audition to join ... maybe a prestigious ballet school? In New York? and her parents are like FUCK THAT, you can't manage this horrible tragic embarrassing disease on your own, you're going to live with us, sedentarily, forever! and she fights with them and is all dramatic about it (teenagers!), but talks them into it eventually. And finally, there's a dance at school and she wants to go and wear jeans (because jeans are cool) and her mom says no way are you wearing jeans to a Formal Dance, and she says GOD MOM IT'S THE EIGHTIES, and they fight, and but then end up compromising on a "plum-colored" pant/sweater combo from a department store and the main boy she's sweating is like damn girl I like your plum-colored pant/sweater combo, let's derail your future with a teen pregnancy (just kidding about that last part, it's very chaste -- the drama in these YA novels you'd get at the Scholastic Book Fair or at like Waldenbooks was all about Ballet- and/or- Clothing-Related Angst).


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Monday, April 18, 2016

Also the movie Broadcast News, which I thought of, randomly, today for the first time in like eight years. It's good stuff.

Some Things I Am Grateful for, Right This Minute: A Partial List

Lizards. I love lizards, and they're all over my back deck. Sprawling posture, FTW!

Tank tops. It's 91 degrees. I can't wear t-shirts when it's more than 72 degrees out; my armpits make like volcanoes and start pouring superheated toxic steam.

Sunless tanner. It's not like that orange shit we used to use in the 80s; it dries fast, shows color quickly, and is natural-looking if you apply it carefully.

TV. Orphan Black is back, The Americans is back and in TOP FUCKING FORM y'all, VEEP is coming back, I'm going to mainline Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt when Mr. Gleemonex is in Vegas (have so far experienced it only in gif form) -- and so much more. Yay TV!

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Friday, March 25, 2016

I go to parties, sometimes until four / It's hard to leave when you can't find the door

Nearly six years later, it still remains true: Even the most fleeting thought of this makes me lose my shit entirely. Oh bless you, internets, for in you I find my life.

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Saturday, March 05, 2016

My sister had the WORST crush on Bruce Willis because of this. And also his wine coolers commercial. Oh, 80s, never stop doing you.

Random Lines I Remember From Moonlighting, Which Ran From 1985 - 1989 (When I Was 11-15 Years Old), By Which I Mean I Remember These From the Original Run, Not From a Re-Watch: A Partial List

"Where are the pieces of guy?"
"The what?"
"The pieces of guy!"
[There had been an explosion, presumably killing a guy, but BW points out there were no "pieces of guy" to be found]

"Her name's Freddy, short for [can't remember].  ... Her favorite color is rug burn."
[BW on a suspect]

"You know my usual jelly? Make it a cruller!"
[Agnes di Pesto, living life out loud]

"David, may I please have some answers?"
"Delaware, all of the above, 90 degrees ..."
[fucking SLAYED ME -- actual weeping with laughter]

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Monday, February 29, 2016

A lot of days, I feel like Steve Zahn sitting in the back of the getaway car in Out of Sight, or like Puddy staring straight ahead at the seat in front of him for the entire duration of a transatlantic flight, with no book, magazine, music, nap, etc. and driving Elaine to break up with him once again. Or like Buscemi in Lebowski, including the muddy hearing.

Today in "Unaccountably Overly Pleased With Myself" news:

I cannot stop congratulating myself for finally knowing what two current memes are about. One is, "Bye Felicia," the other is "Damn, Daniel." I mean, context has always been clear enough and I've been borne along on the tides with both of them, but it really is nice to know from whence they came.

OH MY GOD THE BAR IS SO LOW THESE DAYS WITH ME.

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Monday, January 25, 2016

Things to never click

You know, tbh, I wonder what the "one weird old tip" is that will "reduce belly fat." This stupid malware-gateway sidebar I've seen for like the last ten years, goddamn.

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Wednesday, January 20, 2016

No dorm, no roommates -- my own place.

So I'm talking on the phone with my younger sister (which we both have to schedule, because I HATE THE PHONE and it's really hard to make myself call someone), and she's telling me about the new place she lives, which is sort of a dorm-like building for grown-ups, subsidized by her job teaching a foreign language at a small private high school -- it's a great setup for her because although there are no private bathrooms or kitchens (all facilities are shared), she's single and doesn't need much space, plus it's waaaaaay below market rent in NYC, and an easy commute to her job, and her BFF lives in the same complex.

And then she tells me that one thing she loves about it is that "you never get lonely -- there are always people around, you can always find someone to hang out with any time of day or night."

The hem on my brain fell out, y'all. "There are always people around" is one of the pillars of the room in hell in which I will end up spending eternity. It's why I hated dorm life by the end (as exciting as I found it in the beginning), and why if I were a single person, there is almost literally nothing I wouldn't do to have MY. OWN. PLACE. all to myself. I believe Mr. Gleemonex feels the same way, which is one of the many reasons we are sofa king awesome together.

But like I remember that my sister used to dread summers and look forward to going back to school in the fall -- she wanted her friends around her! Every day! On the regular! Me, I was so glad to be alone (in between shrieking excursions to the mall or the movies or swimming with mine). I love my extended family, I love my friends -- I just ... I can't have them in my LIVING SPACE, you dig?

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