Image 01


You like me! Of course, you probably don't know me very well.

Archive for November, 2017

yuri gararin

Thursday, November 23rd, 2017

Happy Thanksgiving, guys.

I have like 1000 things to be thankful for, and I know it. Literally just the fact that I get to not go to work tomorrow, right? And that I could afford to buy a turkey who was raised responsibly (before he was killed for us to eat). And that all three of my doggos, my parents, and Crockett are going to be around me all day.

Also, I’m making my stuffing into WAFFLES. HOW CAN I NOT BE THANKFUL.

I mean, yes my feet hurt from cooking all afternoon. Yes, Hulu is forcing a really long wait between episodes of You’re the Worst. Yes, Thanksgiving is “a holiday-length ode to white supremacy and an undeserved celebration of a band of uptight zealot weirdos who should have been allowed to freeze to death.

But still. I’m a lucky bitch and I know it. I hope you are too, whatever that means to you. LOVE.

New American Cool Girl Finale

Tuesday, November 21st, 2017

I, more often than not, start things with no idea how I’m going to finish them.

Bravery and stupidity definitely look the same from 10000 feet.

Case in point: the beginning was parts 1 and 2. The ending is this.

New America Cool Girl: Finale

If you didn’t read those first two parts, the gist is that women pretend to be different than they are in order to catch men, because quite a bit of a normal woman’s life has been defined as gross or crazy or a thing women should keep to themselves and not bother the menfolk with.

GROUNDBREAKING. This is not the New York Times, guys, so just blllllllppppprrrrr (<- raspberry noise).

My pool of men who talk to me about how they date is a lot smaller than my pool of girlfriends. I’ve never been a woman who makes a lot of dude friends (see classic not-like-most-girls NACG move: ‘most of my friends are guys’-hair toss-cute giggle except the opposite, boys have cooties and don’t belong in my life). However, I can’t imagine that the reaction to the NACG moves is easy on the dudes involved, right? Because #spoiler, dudes are also people, cooties notwithstanding. They might like her/love her/want to see her, and not feel like they can tell her because that’s not an action that society supports for them either. They might feel like a woman who expresses a desire to be together needs to be shut down because the men around them will mock them. I don’t really know, honestly, but it seems like a possibility, right?

Some male blogger, jump in with the 21st Century American Cool Guy?

This is where I get myself into trouble. I have no solutions except to suggest every individual be more honest when they interact with someone they wanna smoosh their parts against. God knows most of us can’t do that. We lie to ourselves so much we could do it for a living, there’s no way we can become more honest with other people.

Alternately, we could put the four self actualized people who were raised in totally gender free environments in charge of all media. Well, two of them in charge of media, two of them on call at all times to answer a help line for us all to call?

Bad ending, I’m sorry. I am. I wish the answer to why shouldn’t I be a NACG and how can I stop was: because it’s not you and just do, but it’s not. The whole thing is exhausting, right? I’m going to take a 8-12 hours nap and maybe tomorrow I’ll have something? Or maybe I’ll write a review of You’re the Worst. Maybe I’ll review GPaltrow’s Goop gift recommendations like last year. We’ll find out together. (When I walked into yoga this afternoon my teacher asked how I was, then I asked how she was, and she said “in the flow of the day”. Tomorrow we’ll be in the flow of the blog. Namaste, guys.)

let’s drink and watch

Monday, November 20th, 2017

(Scheduling for pub Monday morning, please rest assured that I did not get up and start drinking at 4 am. All drinking and watching happened Sunday night.)

(If you’re here for NACG 3, hold your horses.)

Drinking: The Independent White Blend
Eating: chips and guacamole
Watching: Grave Encounters (trailer, IMDB)

I’ve actually seen this movie before, but I liked it and am having a stupid, sad weekend, so … comfort horror! A genre you don’t believe exists!

In a nutshell, this movie is about a bunch of people filming a ghost hunting reality show that end up in an actual haunted abandoned psych hospital. Don’t all rush out to watch it, now. As per usual, if you’d like to watch this movie without me ruining it for you then you are in the wrong damn place.

  • The very first, best thing about this movie is how different the host is while he’s filming for the show and while they’re shooting b-roll and he’s just a regular dude. His host-attitude is very Robin-Leach of haunted places – ‘the incredible footage you saw … of this door slamming on it’s own’, etc. His real self says things like ‘this place is as haunted as a sock drawer’.
  • My hair is draped over the back of the couch and the table behind the couch, and I just put my wine down on my hair without knowing it and then tried to lean forward. Wine related disaster, people.
  • Why couldn’t a sock drawer be haunted? Me, asking the important questions.
  • oooooooOOOOOOoooooo scary stuff is happening! Like, normal stuff, actually? A door slammed, a wheel on a table spun. Scary in context, though, if the context is ‘locked in an abandoned insane asylum’. The only person who believes it might be paranormal is the girl with the lip ring and black eyeliner – #gimme.
  • The ghost just lifted goth girls hair and I legit jumped. She went back down to the lobby to hang out with the tech guy and the host is begging the ghost to manipulate his hair, which I love. “Are you… are you into hair? Here, touch mine, ghosty – I’ve got nice hair! I used conditioner and everything!”
  • “Why would we split up, that’s a terrible idea!” Goth girl making all the good calls. Spoiler, they split up anyway.
  • Status: one guy missing, one guy fell down the stairs and is like kinda injured, everyone panicking because (at their request) the caretaker locked them in and they can’t find a way out. The caretaker was, of course, supposed to come let them out, but he’s very late and the sun doesn’t seem to be rising when it should. This is all quite tense and watching them get all mad at each other is very satisfying, but nothing is actually, like, happening?
  • All the food in their coolers is rotten. This is ghostly psychological warfare and I am here for it. Some hair touching, some rottenness accelerating, and couple of doors and windows that aren’t open or closed as they should be, and everyone is going damn crazy. Walls dripping blood etc not required.
  • Now they’re just fighting over a map. This looks like me and Crockett’s last vacation, the Blair Witch Project, or both.
  • Missing guy is screaming! From somewhere! And a metal cot is bouncing up and down! Fuck you, cot. Keep your fucking legs on the ground, you’re not a grasshopper.
  • Oh, baby goth girl has the word hello written in cuts on her back. Such a polite message for such a mean delivery. Maybe the ghost was writing ‘hey’, ‘hi’, ‘hello’, ‘what’s up’, ‘hi guys’, whatever, all over the walls and they just kept missing it because they were running around? Ghost just wanted to get his message seen is all. I get you, ghost, it’s tough being ignored.
  • Annnnnnnnd we have our first dark eyed unrealistically big mouthed demon face. WHY DO I DO THIS WHEN I AM HOME ALONE, someone talk some sense into me pleez thank you.
  • I apologize for inserting that in there, guys. I don’t know what I was thinking. I was trying to distract myself from the guy getting drowned in the bathtub full of blood possibly?
  • Do you remember the song from when I was in high school (a universally recognized means of defining a four year period) that went ‘they say misery loves company, we should start a company and make misery…’?
  • You’re welcome.
  • They’ve all got hospital wristbands with their names on them that showed up when they fell asleep. There’s two different level of attacks happening here. Two ghosts? Grasshopper-cot blood-drowning sliced-back ghost is sending out a very strong ‘die, y’all’. Wristband rotten-food no-sunshine ghost is trying harder for a ‘no hope’ kinda vibe.
  • Both would work on me. And you, don’t lie.
  • Crockett’s leather chair just creaked. Bad. BAD CHAIR.

I fast forwarded, in the hopes that the chair was reacting to a specific scene.

  • There are only the host and goth girl left…
  • Wait, there’s a cloud covering the camera…
  • Why do I keep writing these posts? Why do you guys keep READING them? They are ridiculous play by plays of movies you’re not watching, it’s insane.
  • One guy. Host. Cloud ate goth girl.

At some point, if you’re in a horror movie, it’s got to just be the zen choice to die, right? I mean, yes, there’s always the teeniest tiniest chance you’re the final girl. Probably not, though. Probably you’re going to be terrified and run around a lot and get very very scared and sad and then die, right?

Remember when you told me, at the top of this post, that comfort horror wasn’t a thing? Fine, you were right.

  • Host is eating a rat. That he beat to death with a pipe. Why tho. Host, Imma refer you to the thing I just said about death being zen ok?
  • Oh shit ghost docs and nurses! Ok, that explains the inconsistent hauntings. Good, that would have bugged me.

Don’t worry, guys. Ghost docs are treating host for his obvious issues. Everything’s fine, nothing to see here, and … credits!


Sunday Talky 11/18

Sunday, November 19th, 2017

Filmed at the dog park while walking through gravel – sorry! Why didn’t I stand still? Why didn’t I show you more of the dogs or how pretty the mountains looked? Why is it Sunday already, what happened to Saturday? Questions for the ages.

New American Cool Girl (part 2)

Saturday, November 18th, 2017

Part 1.

Part 2: The things a NACG does (again, even though she knows better). (Btw: I’m going to belatedly acknowledge that this is totally heterosexually based. I’m not familiar enough with the ins and outs of queer dating to speak to where this may or not apply there.)

There’s at least a few categories here, so bear with me.

Pretending to want less
We all know what this looks like. The NACGs truth might be: I like him, I love him, I want to call him, I want to text him, I want to see him more than once every two weeks, I want to be monogamous, I want I want I want. She tells him: ‘oh hey, sorry, I was busy’ (turned off read notifications and waited four hours to answer), ‘oh, hey, yeah, Sat should be ok’ (she kept it free for him), ‘hi, can you remind me about that brewery/song/book you told me about’ (and lbh if she likes those things she probably already knew), ‘can’t friday, have plans’ (no plans, just doesn’t want to seem to available), etc. This seems normal and actually kind of expected, right?

Hiding physical femininity
Every woman in a sitcom whose husband opened the door while she was bleaching her mustache. Every woman who goes through a crisis when a hot date and her period coincide. The girls who are mortified when they drop a tampon in a high school hallway, and the menopausal women who carry frozen water bottles through the office to keep the evidence of their hot flashes on the dl. Insert your own story here, we’ve all done it.

‘Not like other girls’
Ugh. You guys.
This is the most egregious and the most insidious.
This is something boys say to girls, and sometimes something men say to women. What they inevitably mean is ‘there is a flag of womanhood that I find irritating/boring/scary and you’re not waving it at me’. Or, more succinctly, ‘you’re like a dude, but I’m attracted to you’. (This phrase is a close cousin to ‘oh my ex was crazy’.)
I’m not going to address the dude part yet. (Part 3?) The problem here is when woman start using this phrase to describe themselves. (I’m a retread, as usual.) But women do say this, and what is usually means is ‘hey baby, I’m a New American Cool Girl – anything about other girls that you haven’t liked ain’t what I’ll do, promise’. It can mean I won’t be like your mom, I won’t be like your ex, I won’t be like your best friend’s bitchy wife. It always, always means that the woman who says it feels the need to separate herself from a half the population to be attractive.

This is different from the women who used to follow The Rules, btw. The NACG will 100% ask a guy on a date and be willing to pay for things. She will, potentially, burp when she and a dude are doing a beer tasting. She might send nudes to a Tinder match. She’s not a lady, is what I’m saying. She’s just…

well, let’s return to my thesis.

She’s unconsciously sublimating her femininity because we’re all taught women are inferior to men.

Part 3: who the hell knows. Seat of my pants nablopomo here, guys.