Things to Say While Waiting

I asked my coworker/friend person to give me an idea of what to blog about today. She changed the subject. I'm trying not to take that personally.

So what we're left with is random statements like rappers with lisps are FUN-NY. A rapper with a stutter would be funnier. I imagine there are less of those, however, out amongst the riffraff.

I have a cold. I know, who doesn't. The difference with this one is, I've been shooting Emergen-C straight into my veins and killing germs and bacteria with wine. Combine that with some much needed sleep and a positive attitude...and this puppy's on the way back OUT. I must've aligned my chakras without even realizing it. Or do you align our chi and massage your chakras? Either way, I must be doing it. And a healthy diet, don't forget that. Tonight we're having Tachos. Yes, you remember me introducing you to the glory of those. It was a boyfriend ago. Well it turns out they're also medicinal. And beneficial to both chi and chakras.

Your tattoo replies are good, though some of you are holding out. I don't even have ten yet, so this blog isn't really happening. Ignore it. As you were.

An Essay on Art: A Type Of

Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about tattoos. And when I say “lately”, I mean for about 5 minutes earlier today.

I remember when I got my first one at the precocious age of 19 and my dad found out. He FLIPPED out! (Yeah, you all thought he was always so cool, didn’t you). His largest concern was that the act had put me into a different class of people, a “type”, if you will. He got over that and now finds them interesting…tattoos in general, not just mine. I think Mom always had a “eh, it’s your body” feeling with regards to my socially accepted self-mutilation…with the exception of letting me dye my hair (mean!)

They are a funny thing, though. Special, in that you have them forever – but not so in that everyone and their grandmother has one these days. We no longer have to worry about being 80 with saggy inked body bits flapping about because we’ll all be in the same boat. And I don’t know about you, but I love seeing old people with tattoos. It gives them that much more character. Tells you a little something about them.

That being said, I often find myself looking at someone’s tattoo and (on a regular basis) having any of the following reactions:

1. “Dear god, why?”

2. “Oh!”

3. “REEEEally?”

4. “That makes my heart cry”

Earlier in my life, I was of the opinion that they were a very personal thing. Time and thought went into the choosing of one. And each had a reason for its existence. Of course the amount of time and the type of reason can sometimes be directly related to the proximity of a vacation and/or alcohol…but the fact remains. For some people, I still believe the “personal” theory to be true. For others, I believe their free time and any disposable income should be taken away.

I could take up space with examples here, but we’ve all seen them. And if you haven’t, all you have to do is google.

For my own, personal experience…I think I got my first tattoo too young. The good news is, I’m not sorry I got it and think it still looks great. It’s just, I’m not sure I would’ve been quite so keen on the size and detail at 30 the way I was at 19. It’s a good tattoo, purchased in an old parlor on Frenchman in New Orleans. It’s not there anymore. They painted the hundreds of year old brick yellow and made it an Electric Ladyland. It’s Egyptian – taken from a sketch in an old book I found at the university library. My only complaint is that the feet of the tattoo peek out from my shirt if I ever lean over and to this day I have children AND adults lifting UP my shirt to try to see it in it entirety.

You may or may not know the story of the second one. I posted here when I got it, but I don’t remember if I explained why I chose the barn swallow. There’s a nautical myth that says a sailor would get a barn swallow tattooed for every 5,000 nautical miles he traveled. I’ve traveled significantly more than that, but tattoos hurt and are expensive and so only purchased two.

I have two restrictions on any tattoo I commission:

1. It must be placed on a part of my body that is least likely to get fat

And

2. No color – if they had color and were visible, I’d feel the need to match my outfits to them.

I don’t imagine I’m alone in my pickiness…but I’m interested…call it anthropologically…in who out there among my acquaintances has tattoos? Don’t tell me here…comments are too hard to compile. Email me. Or comment that you’ll email me. OR if you don’t have one, tattoo me why. Or just comment it. And I refuse to let you say that you just haven’t figured out what you wanted yet. I bite my thumb at such a lack of originality/funds/inspiration.

I’ve finally given this blog its own email address, so send a description of your tattoo(s) to condishair@gmail.com. You will presented (anonymously if you so desire) as a portion of my scientific findings (within a sample size of the dozen or so people who read this blog). Feel free to out friends and loved ones if you yourself are not inked.

Just know - I refuse to blog again until I get at least 10 emails.

My, that was verbose, wasn’t it.

Progression: The Act of Moving Forward. Finally.

It's that time of year when the cherry blossoms are on the trees and I'm mildly interested in politics for, like, a minute.

If any of you have a television, internet connection, radio transmitter, workplace water cooler or news ticker...then you'll know that the United States finally passed a bill to make securing and benefiting from healthcare a little bit easier for some 30-odd million Americans. This improvement has taken an incredibly long time. And it's unfinished. We still have no public option, and a big Debbie Downer part of me is concerned that it will never happen with the passing of this bill.

Still...fuck yeah!

And THIS is the part of the post where I take the quotations from various members of the senate and congress out of the New York Times article I read and reply to them as though said members are in the room with me:

“This is the Civil Rights Act of the 21st century,” said Representative James E. Clyburn of South Carolina, the No. 3 Democrat in the House.

Mostly, Mr Clyburn. Mostly. And your last name is odd. I think it's missing a vowel.


The House Republican leader, Representative John A. Boehner of Ohio, said lawmakers were defying the wishes of their constituents. “The American people are angry,” Mr. Boehner said. “This body moves forward against their will. Shame on us.”

John, have you ever not had insurance while making minimum wage and then broken a tooth? Have you ever been rejected for coverage because you have a strange and small condition that has a 20% chance of ever affecting you in your lifetime? Have you paid a $1,000 premium a month for two people because you're technically retired but too young to be on Medicare? No? Well then fuck you. You don't know any American people. And let me tell you something about some of these "angry" people. They're still looking for WMDs and signs of the Rapture. Enough said.


Representative Lincoln Diaz-Balart, Republican of Florida, called it “a decisive step in the weakening of the United States.”

Lincoln, you should be stripped of your name. The first one. And secondly - what does that even fucking mean? How could we be any weaker? And denying 50 million Americans the right to a healthy life helps that how?


Representative Virginia Foxx, Republican of North Carolina, said it was “one of the most offensive pieces of social engineering legislation in the history of the United States.”

Really? Because I would've said that about The Patriot Act. Bitch.


On Sunday afternoon, members of the group announced that they would support the legislation after Mr. Obama promised to issue an executive order to “ensure that federal funds are not used for abortion services.” Mr. Stupak described the order as a significant guarantee that would “protect the sanctity of life in health care reform.”

This reminds me of the movie Children of Men? You see that movie? I didn't get it. There was this scene when these people were all warring with each other...but stopped to let a pregnant woman through, because she was the last prego on earth. Or some junk. But as soon as she passed, they went back to shooting each other. The theme you were supposed to take away is that life is precious. But the theme I took away was that life is precious until you're a teenager and then you better fucking watch it because I'm going to shoot you in the face. That's what this abortion provision is to me. Unborn life needs to be preserved at all costs, but once you're born, you're on your own. The social conscience expires. Make sure that kid is born to the teenage mother working at McDonald's...but don't support the ability of that mother to get the kid the vaccine to prevent it from contracting polio. Serious lack of perspective, Mr. Stupak. Serious.


Representative Rodney Alexander, Republican of Louisiana, said, “You cannot expect to expand coverage to millions of individuals and to curb costs at the same time.”

No shit, Roddy. But maybe if they're not going bankrupt from that emergency surgery on their pancreas - they can afford to stay in their house and buy that big screen tv that you're convinced will save the economy.


“Are you so arrogant that you know what’s best for the American people?” Representative Paul Broun, Republican of Georgia, asked the Democrats.

Are you? It seems to me that an elected body created for the purpose of representing the people should maybe spend its time trying to figure out and implementing what they think might be best for the people who voted for them. Or something. Someone needs a civics lesson. And a punch in the nads.


After the legislation passed, Mr. Obama sought to place the day in perspective. “In the end what this day represents is another stone firmly laid in the foundation of the American dream,” the president said. “Tonight, we answered the call of history as so many generations of Americans have before us. When faced with crisis, we did not shrink from our challenges. We overcame them. We did not avoid our responsibilities, we embraced it. We did not fear our future, we shaped it.”

Amen.

In other news, I just got Donnie Darko on Blu-Ray and am therefore cooler than you.

Oh How St. Peter Will Laugh in My Face.

I worked from home today and so therefore, the TV was on. Strangely and wonderously - Little Women showed up on ET (the channel, not the movie). What are the odds. It was in-between some Kardashian-related reality show and celeb news. Who's idea was that? The one intern with the English degree?

Anyway.

Every time I see any of the various versions of Little Women, I feel bad about myself. I should be more like Marmee. I should be more like Meg. Shit, I should be more like Jo...outspoken but still confined to the parlance of the times.

But the fact is, I'm not like any of them. In my constant quest to make people laugh, I often (not necessarily purposefully) try/end up being the most outspoken/inappropriate person in the room. Mean comedy has it's place...Lenny Bruce has shown us that, if no one else. It's a necessary evil, someone has to provide it. I just never thought it would be me every single fucking time. In almost ever social occasion, there is something I say that I look back on with almost cringing guilt. Whatever it is, it gets a laugh at the time, but I spend the remainder of the evening mortified that I said what I said...and it eats me up inside.

Tonight is no different. It's like I can't control what comes out of my mouth...a character flaw that I sincerely hoped would improve with age. Sadly...it hasn't. So what do I do? Accept that I am always going to be the inappropriate joke teller who gets the laugh but burns in a personal hell for it later? Or try to change?

I fear it is hopeless, mostly due to alcohol. I get relaxed and I sometimes forget my audience. But is it a gift? Or a curse? There is nothing I enjoy more - watching people crack up at whatever nonsense I've spouted...but knowing that there's one person in the room who may be touched negatively...sucks.

The fact of the matter is, I probably won't change. And that may be ok. There's a place in society for us...the not-quite-as-bad-as-Andy-Dicks. Nature has placed us here and so we shall remain. I guess if we offend to often, our social circle will dwindle. Let's hope that happens before I start giving guilt hugs, shall we?

Happy Friday.

On The Eve of The Big Event...

I know most people don't give a good goddamn about the Oscars, but I've been watching them faithfully ever since I was a wee one. And since they're tomorrow, I thought I'd share my thoughts on the Academy Award nominations for Best Picture with you all. And you're gonna shut up and like it.


Up in the Air
I saw it. It was cute. But I'll tell you this - any movie that has an "Oh my god, it's Young MC! Let's dance!" moment is not an Oscar contender.





Avatar
I haven't seen this movie yet. Want to know why? Because I don't want to have to see a movie "just for the awesome effects". Now that the technology exists, I'm going to WAIT until they find a way to merge those awesome effects with a FUCKING DECENT STORYLINE. One that may or may not involve blue people.



District 9
I walked away from this movie feeling like Nigerians must be the worst people on Earth. Though it may not have been the intended consequence - it still left a bad taste in my mouth. My friends tell me to stop being so sensitive. But then I tell them to shut up, so it all evens out.



An Education
This was a fanfuckingtastic film with the exception of Peter Sarsgaard's sad English accent. But it suffers from Vera Drake (Mike Leigh) syndrome...as in - it will not win due to the inclusion of the following elements:
a. It's British
b. It's too quiet. Thoughtful and filled with dialogue. Not a single explosion.
c. The heroine's journey - though a definable journey - is not epic. There's no racial or spacial divide to cross...it's just youth and we've all been there.
d. Everyone agrees that things were fucked up in the 60s.
That being said, the best part of the movie is Rosamund Pike. Anyone who can pull off playing a ditz while remaining likable as a character is truly amazing acting.


The Hurt Locker
B and I saw this when it first came out and no one was talking about it yet. I don't remember why. I think maybe we're drawn to titles with "Hurt" in them. Or maybe "Locker". B really loved this movie. Really loved it. I...appreciated it. There were some beautifully bleak scenes and some fun (as much as you can use that word in a war movie) cameos - and I definitely could get behind the message. But I'm a little desensitized to war films, so they take a lot to impress me. But you know...you should see it anyway.


The Blind Side
Are you fucking kidding me?! A blond Sandra Bullock?! Football?! Rich white lady helps poor black teenager!? The SOUTH?! TIM MCGRAW?! Come on.




Inglourious Basterds
I just recently saw this one. I know, how behind the times can you get, right? I wanted to like it more than I did. The first 30 minutes are awesome. The last 30 minutes are awesome. Eli Roth is strangely awesome. But I really do just hate Quentin Tarantino, his obsession with the 70s - everything he stands for. And I want someone to slap his chin right off his face.


Precious
This was in theaters (and very few of them) for a depressingly short time and I didn't make it. However - the preview makes me cry. Photos from the film make me cry. Mo'Nique accepting her Golden Globe made me cry. Seeing Mariah Carey's face on screen normally makes me cry (for an all together different reason) - but in this role, I'm able to hold it in.


A Serious Man
I have not seen this yet, not for lack of trying. Things keep getting in the way, and I'm beginning to take it personally. Yes, I'm talking to you, Universe. I've heard good things - but I think we all know that the Coen Bros. have recently had their day in the red-carpeted sun and this nomination is just to let them know they're not forgotten. Also - the main actor looks disturbingly like a young Robin Williams. Anyone else notice this?


Up
When this was in the theaters, I told Brendan to plan to see it when I was out of town. According to him, this is because I have no soul and hate all things good in the world (children, puppies, etc.). He might be right. However. It's not going to win.





MY PREDICTION
Stupid-faced Avatar will win. You know it. I know it. Everyone knows it. James Cameron knows it. Cocky bastard. You can see it in his facial hair. And when he does - I plan on yelling and shaking my angry red-wine encased in glass fist (Oscar party) that Precious was ROBBED. And then we'll move on to other things, like who looks the most anorexic in their dress.

Moved to Poetry by Poetry Because of Poetry

An Ode to the corner store

Oh Corner Store...how I heart thee
With your 24-hourness and chicken and jojo-scented
Oxygen singing to me like a non-drowny siren

With the promise of neon, ranch dip and
A refrigerated top row of 22 ouncers
You always have what I need
Whether it's duct tape or $1 meat

And for that, I metaphorically embrace you and
Your rowdy, fun-lovin' gangster wannabes
Hanging out by the bus stop like Tupac's Not dead.
Calling everyone a bitch.

The pasty skinny-jeaned buying Pabst (case-style)
Making small talk with other races
Trying to pretend they're not uncomfortable.

You have the specialty chips I need
To make the tuna casserole
'Cause it's comfort food night
As it is when I work late.

Though no sleep occurs
You know you're my Comfort Inn.
The sketch is my crutch

And yes, that last part was a haiku. For you, Corner Store


Bless you, google earth. And thank you as well.

Domestic Strife

k: I hate Nova.

b: I love Nova.


End argument.