Poshdeluxe

vhs or beta: can’t believe a single word

it’s friday, which doesn’t really lend itself to introspection but rather, martinispection.

but before i get all abraham linkoln (cha-ching!) on yr arse, i would like to include one small piece of reflection, courtesy of the beautiful jessica beck. she just returned from a long visit to her hometown, a small, dwindling place in ohio, which is basically a parallel universe to my high school reunion. i recommend reading her blog about the trip, because she’s such a gentle, blue-eyed, searching writer.

her entry ends with this paragraph:

“the truth is that the past is never really just the past. it is there, and “now” is the current page. the past isn’t officially over until the book is closed, when everything was made certain with the climax, falling action, resolution, when the reader can decide if we were static or dynamic, flat or round. when i reread those previous chapters, i get so confused about the plot that i lose my place, and maybe sometimes i have to start all over again.”

i think the reunion distracted me so much, i lost my place. and then i frantically flipped through the pages because i have to know my place, i have to know my place. but, like i said the other day, maybe it’s good to get lost and start over.

by the way, it’s been to good to read the comments and know that i’m not the only one who didn’t end up becoming, say, the president of the united states or the mary kay saleswoman of the year. so thanks for yr responses. they are appreciated.

jessica wrote to me today about picturing herself at age 40, and i responded:

“besides, if i learned anything from last weekend, it’s that the pictures of myself never come out the way i thought– someone’s head is missing, or the light is too bright, or the lens got smudged. then again, sometimes i find little surprises, like a funny sign in the background or a brilliant blue sky.”

and you know, i like little surprises.

p.s. jessica and i then went on to the ever-popular conversation, “what kind of old ladies will we be?” i mentioned my interest in martinis and tons of faux jewelry, to which jessica replied:

“hmm. maybe we could get a big mansion, and i could have a lot of cats. and we’d have tea time. you could be sort of the vamp-y old lady, and i’d be the floofy one.”

so if this whole search for self, life path thing ends badly, at least i know i’ll be the vampy one, and jessica will be the floofy one. i’m glad that’s been settled.

LINKS

since it’s friday, i’ll be commenting a bit more heavily on this links. cos… what else am i going to do? work? ninja please.

michelle duggar had her seventeeth child. HER SEVENTEENTH CHILD, PEOPLE. do you know how many SEVENTEEN is? to put it bluntly, i would not eat seventeen cupcakes. i would not even eat seventeen cadbury eggs. seventeen is just… more than too much. it’s like winning a hot dog eating contest. here’s my favorite quote from the article:

Among the “fun facts” listed on Discovery Health’s Web page devoted to the Duggars: A baby has been born in every month except June; the Duggars have gone through an estimated 90,000 diapers, and Michelle has been pregnant for 126 months — or 10.5 years — of her life.

that’s a FUN fact?!!! ok, did a guy write this article?

maybe mrs. duggar should consider re-taking sex ed, now that kids will actually be taught that a condom is more than a little balloon. finally, we’ve reached the 20th century! hip hip hooray!

and for women not as, um, fertile (insert yr own adjective here) as mrs. duggar: should people have the right to reproductive assistance?

ok one more serious link before i give up and go for the pop culture jugular: hey, illegal immigrant! is someone attacking you? call the police, and then you’ll get deported! that’s what i call american effing justice.

let’s get right into the crap, then. and i mean literally. as in, this dog’s name. on his headstone. in a graveyard. which apparently some people find offensive. but c’mon, can’t cemeteries take a joke? this is the best dog’s name i’ve heard since my friend’s neighbor had a dog called “daddy,” and it got lost and the grandfather was roaming the streets, yelling, “daddy! daaaaaaddy!” ah, those were the days.

this new art site is one of the best ideas i’ve ever seen. if the artists want something, they paint a picture of it and charge the cost of the actual item. and then, when you buy the painting, they buy the item with the money you gave them. like, they painted a picture of an i-phone, and it costs as much as an i-phone, so that when you buy the painting, they can buy the i-phone. get it? so… WHO WANTS TO BUY MY PAINTING?

disregard the text on the bottom. it means nothing.

um, the new video for the 50 cent/justin/timbaland song came out. forget the drink and splash some of that absolut on my face cos I AM ON FIIIIIIIRE (frantically fans face).
so, people behind the new bratz movie are claiming it inspires healthy images for girls. just like lindsay blowhan. but seriously, this may be the best review i’ve ever read:

“‘bratz’ is like being raped by MySpace.”

pardon me but LOLZZZZZZZZ

this one’s for mark: manchester united just signed a nine year old kid, rhain davis, to play soccer. i’m not joking. i admit, the kid has some moves, but hello? nine? i’m gonna have to wait at least ten years until i can use him as my david beckham saliva inducer replacement.this spanish commercial totally made my day. and also made me reeeeally want to avoid thanksgiving dinner this year.

i don’t know if you love judy greer as much as i do, but… wait. did you just ask me “who is judy greer?” um HELLO. did you NOT see the squee masterpiece, “thirteen going on thirty”?!!!!!! i’m sure you did, but you were so distracted by mark ruffalo that you forgot about judy greer. that’s ok, i can understand. anyway, you get a second chance, cos she’s gonna be in a movie with zach “i lip-synched kanye” galifianakis. and that is all we, the american movie-going public, need to know.

and DONE. let’s all go to the nut shop, where it’s fun!