Wednesday, December 28, 2005

This is so good that it makes me angry.

I was watching a show on Sundance this evening called Iconoclasts.  It features an interview of one iconoclast by another.  This one had chef Mario Betalli interviewing Michael Stipe.  I came in on the last bit of it, so I don't know how good the whole thing was, but the part that I watched was interesting.  There was something that Michael Stipe said that resonated with me.  He said, "That song is so good that it makes me angry."  He was talking about U2's song It's a Beautiful Day.  He ended up saying that he liked the song so much that he was angry that he didn't write it himself.  I've had a similar experience on several occasions.  You see something that you were capable of doing, but just didn't think of it.  Or, even worse, you’d didn't think of it and even if you had, you probably wouldn't have been able to pull it off.  

On a completely unrelated note, I'd just like to say, "Shame on J.C. Penny's".  I was standing outside the women's dressing room at Penny's.  Why I was standing outside a women's dressing room is a different story, but while looking into the dressing room, I noticed the mirror.  This is one of those three way mirrors that you use to decide if this outfit makes you look fat.  Well, Penny's is cheating.  When I looked at myself, I thought, "Have I gotten taller?"  I was certainly a bit more height and weight proportionate.  As I got closer to the mirror this effect became less pronounced, but I could still see it, they were using a funhouse mirror in the ladies dressing room to make people look skinnier.

One final note, if the day comes, when I think we've sexualized 18 year old college student's too much, then the apocalypse is upon us.  Last night on MTV I caught the first part of a show called Next.  This is a game show where the contestants are vying for the attention of a member of the opposite sex, or the same sex as I'd eventually find out.  Sounds a little like the dating game.  The contestants would get a chance to meet the bachelor/bachelorette one at the time.  If the object of their attention was pissed off at any point in time, they'd shout "next" and the current contestant would be replaced with a new one.  Not a horrible concept and probably not very novel.  I have no real justification as to why I was watching this other than to say that if I see a woman in a bathing suit on TV, I will probably stop flipping channels, at least for a second.  That's when it happened, as each of the contestants introduced themselves, they'd say something memorable.  The first (a buxom blonde) said, "High my name is Rachel and all my friends say I have a very boobly personality."  With that, she points at her barely covered breasts and gives them a wiggle.  Not that I'm proud of it, but at this point I'm already canceling dinner plans and deciding to watch a little more.  The next contestant walks up and says something equally insipid, turns around, lifts her skirt and smacks her own ass.  How this got past the censors, I don't know.  The next girl, a redhead, proudly announces that the mini-blinds match the linoleum, first pointing at her hair, then towards her nether regions.  I think I may have blacked out for a while, because for the life of me I cannot remember what the third contestant looked like.  Once the introductions were over with it came time for the contestants to in turn meet the bachelor.  First was the blonde with the giant boobs.  He took one look at her and sent her back.  I guess he's an ass man.  I think I may have blacked out again for a large portion of the show, but the next thing I remember is the second contestant (the one who smacked her own ass) on a boat with the bachelor.  They were going to go shark diving.  On the way to the site they were chit chatting about nothing in particular.  The conversation stalled and he decided to ask, "Do you have any special talents?"  I think he was wondering if she could play the piano, or tap dance, but she went a completely different way with it.  She proudly states, "I can put both my legs behind my head."  His eyes bug out of his head while she demonstrates.  The most surreal of moments during the show came as she was in the described position conversing with the bachelor.  At one point, she even mentions being able to see her own ass from this position.  Wait.  Can you hear that?  Ah yes, the sound of the four horsemen?  It should not be long now.  For some reason Tivo keeps suggesting this show.  I don't know why.  Can it read my mind?

Is it odd that my so called final note is longer than the post itself?

Friday, December 23, 2005

A tough conversation

Yesterday was a really tough day. I mean really tough. I had dinner with Danielle last night and we talked for quite some time. It was a very emotional experience and I think I'm still digesting it. We'd been planning on and missing one another for dinner for a while so I'd had some time to think about what I was going to say for several weeks. To start with, let me just say that I went into this dinner with a vague notion that I was going to try and get back together with her. I've been dating for a while, but I have to admit to being very unsatisfied and probably lonelier for the experience. Over the course of the last couple of months, I've started to realize how crappy the last year has been. That's not to say that good things have not happened, but rather that I've found them to be very unfulfilling as a whole. I guess there are a lot of things that I could attribute this to, but I think, in my mind, that I've primarily attributed them to the fact that I don't have anyone to share them with. Yes, I've got friends and family, but not the companion and best friend that I once had. I intended to broach the subject and see what her feelings were and if she would be interested in trying again.

Here's where I stop and say that I do and did realize that this was an ill conceived idea that had pretty slim chances of having the intended/desired outcome. I'm also aware of how cheesy and cliche the whole notion is. If you have a problem with that, you can kiss my ass.

What makes this whole process even harder is that she and I know that we have a permanent connection to one another. We will forever be friends. Very good friends that know one another’s deep dark secrets. Friends that know where the bodies are buried. Some people get married and divorced and that will be the end of it, never speak again. We're not going to be those people. We will always love one another even if we aren't in love with one another. At times I think I have trouble distinguishing our platonic love and our history of physical love. When compared to that, my recent forays into the romantic realm have been, um, lackluster. That, combined with the hopeless idea that we might get back together worked to sabotage, in my head, whatever chance those relationships might have had.

So there I am, about half way into bumbling about my feelings and I realize that she's just told me that she's seeing someone and that she's been seeing him for some time. His name is Tim. Blurp Blurp Blurp. That's the noise my brain made at that moment.

I keep thinking of Timmy from South Park. Livin a Lie! Livin a Lie! TIMMY!!!!! Yeah, I know it's not very mature of me, but indulge me in this.

What do I do now? Should I start bawling and blubbering? I didn't, but I might have welled up a little. Should I start shouting, "How Dare You!!!!"? I didn't. Should I sit there and seethe in a rage in front of her until I have a stroke? I didn't.

Danielle is dating someone. Danielle is dating someone? Danielle is dating someone?!?!?!?! I knew this day was coming, so surprise shouldn't be an emotion surrounding this discovery. In fact it wasn't, ok, maybe a little bit, but my surprise was more for the surreality of the situation. I'm sitting here talking to Danielle about her boyfriend. WTF!!! You know what emotion I felt after getting over the initial shock? Relief. Relief to see her sitting across from me talking about someone she really cared about. Relief to have the ambiguity of that path removed from my mind. Relief to see that she'd fallen for someone, and could tell me about it as a friend. I am truly happy for her.

I'd been holding onto the slim chance that we might get back together, but with the knowledge that this futile hope really amounted to a drowning man grasping at straws. Now that the straws are gone, I've been forced to look around and realize that I was probably floundering and splashing in the shallow end of the pool. I just needed to stand up. How's that for an uplifting fucking story?

So with that out of the way, bring on the easy women with low standards!

On a complely unrelated note, I fucking hate when people correct me when I say "Happy Holidays", by saying, "Don't you mean, 'Merry Christmas'?" NO I DIDN'T MEAN MERRY CHRISTMAS. I'M A GODDAMNEDPINKOCOMMIELIBERALHEATHEN AND I DON'T BELIEVE IN YOUR HOLIDAY.

Happy Belated Winter Solstice.

Sunday, December 11, 2005

If you don't buy a lapdance I'm going to kick you in the nuts.

For someone creeped out by strip clubs, I seem to be in and out of them a lot lately. My excuse this time is that it was my friend Stu's birthday and as part of the pub crawl that he'd arranged we were stopping off at Temptation next to the Cigar Box downtown. If you ever have a chance to go to the Cigar Box, do. The lounge singer Al Lota is drop dead funny. If you ever have a chance to go to Temptations next door, save your money. After a fairly full evening it is decided that we were headed to the place already mentioned. Out of all the people in our party, I'm immediately spotted as the target of attention by half the strippers in the place. Can they smell the desperation and discomfort? Maybe it is the deer in the headlights look that I have on my face. I don't know, but I certainly made a lot of people jealous with the attention that I got. Eventually one of the strippers, Fire was what she told me her name was, chased off the rest of them. She had me cornered. I kept saying, "I'm not interested". But every excuse that I came up with was countered with a slurred, she was blitzed, "You don't have to worry about impressing me, I'm going to impress you." My reply to that was, "Well, you're off to a pretty bad start." This went on for nearly 10 minutes. I don't know what I did to deserve this, but this chubby, stringy haired drunk stripper wouldn't leave me alone. "Look, I just want to sit here and have a drink with my friends and then leave. Can't you just leave me alone?" To that, she responded, "If you don't buy a lapdance I'm going to kick you in the nuts. Now it doesn't have to be from me, but if you leave here without buying a lapdance from somebody, I am going to kick you in the nuts". When I laughed at this, she got pissed and left to find a new victim.