Tuesday, September 29, 2009

Disturbing Video of the Day



I'm all for helping children avoid sexual predators, but there's something about this video that seems a little ineffective. Maybe it's the fact that the actors seem to be having a little too much fun attempting to sound like child rapists (just check out the shit-eating grin on the balding man in the car who tries to coerce the camera into being in a "movie" with him. Or the middle aged lady who calls out "Le boy! Come help me with my groceries, le boy!" Or the line "I'll kill your dog" delivered in deadpan).

Then there's the unfortunate wording of what to avoid in order to not be raped (getting a job, being a playmate, having fun...) that might be a bit confusing to a child who's told by his parents to do all of these things. Mixed messages, guys, mixed messages.

The video also makes the entire world look like it's crawling with sexual predators (on the streets! in the park! at the store! at YOUR HOUSE!) which, I don't know, might scare the bejesus out of a small child.

The Stranger Smart DVD is available on Amazon.com (check out that five star review!) and can be yours for just one low payment of $1.50! Special narration by Kareem Abdul Jabbar. I'm serious.

Monday, September 28, 2009

Lily Allen Wants to Be Your Fag Hag

Oh My God

Entertainment Weekly's Owen Gleiberman gives Tucker Max's new movie a B+

The film is consistently fun, and Tucker's comeuppance will leave you gasping (if not gagging) with laughter.


What. The fuck.

President Obama Includes Gay Parents in Family Day Speech

"Our family provides one of the strongest influences on our lives. American families from every walk of life have taught us time and again that children raised in loving, caring homes have the ability to reject negative behaviors and reach their highest potential. Whether children are raised by two parents, a single parent, grandparents, a same-sex couple, or a guardian, families encourage us to do our best and enable us to accomplish great things. Today, our children are confronting issues of drug and alcohol use with astonishing regularity. On Family Day, we honor the dedication of parents, commend the achievements of their children, and celebrate the contributions our Nation's families have made to combat substance abuse among young people."


Thank you, Towleroad.

Why Fraternities Are Historically Homophobic

From an essay on Salon:

...Once dating came about, being popular with the ladies meant you were a big man on campus. And to attract more of these big men, the frat brothers had to identify the would-be campus hunks in their applicant pool. You know, without other dudes thinking they were queer.

Thus frat boys overcompensated for their "shared living, bathing, sleeping and erotic hazing practice," which "might be perceived by outsiders as either feminine or gay behavior," by promoting a culture "that takes aggressive heterosexuality as one of its constitutive elements."


I never realized that a fraternity rush is basically America's Next Top Model for straight dudes. Of course, times have also changed the ways guys look at each other, and there's more of an acceptance now that even straight men can appreciate another man's hotness. And many are now smart enough to link "aggressive heterosexuality" to closeted homosexuality.

Gay Kiss-In Staged at Parisian Shopping Center

Beautiful:

Facebook: The Movie

Starring Justin Timberlake. Seriously.

Sunday, September 27, 2009

Windows House Party: Come Get it!



Black Man: Oh man am I having fun in this hizz-ouse. What's that you got over there?

Grandma: Why it's this computer doo-dad thingamabobber.

Black Man: What do you do with it? Stick it in the oven?

Grandma: Ahahahahahahaha! No.

Forty Year Old Woman: Hey dudes! I am home now!

Black Man, grandma: Hey girl! Go on get it! Strut that stuff!

Grandma: Check out this thing I bought! It has a screen and makes me want to party!

Black Man: I love to party. And by that i mean: do drugs.

Grandma, Forty year old woman: Ahahahahaha!

Black Man: I'm serious. I need help.

Grandma: I like this piece of technology because it has a screen with things called windows where you can plan games and stuff.

Forty year old woman: That's cool. I like...stuff.

Grandma, Black man: Ahahahahaha! Thats sooo funny, so do we!

Forty Year Old Woman: Ahahahaha!

Grandma, Black Man: Ahahahaha!

Grandma: Man. Talking about technology is fun!

Forty Year Old Woman: I know, right? This piece of technology is a real party in a box.

Black Man: I hear you, girl.

Grandma: Fo-shizzle.

Forty Year Old Woman: Wait. What are we even talking about?

Grandma: If you're having friends over, make sure they stroke the machine and touch it all over. It's really important.

Forty Year Old Woman: That sounds a little strange.

Grandma: ...and stroke your nipples while touching the screen. Otherwise, what will guests do when they come to your party? Talk to each other? Talk is cheap. Cheaper than your mom.

Grandma: Ahahaha!

Forty Year Old Woman: Ahahahaha!

Black Man: AHAHAHAHAHAAHAHHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAA! I win.

Grandma: Can you believe how fun it is to talk in the kitchen about the launch of new technologies that will forever change the way we party and play games forever?

Forty Year Old Woman: When I die, will you record a little video on that piece of technology and send it over the internet to my parents? I think they like to party with this thing, too.

Grandma: Of course I will, sweetheart.

Black Man: This is fun.

Grandma: We are fun.

Forty Year Old Woman: Life is fun.

Black Man: I am a man.

Forty Year Old Woman: You ARE a man.

Black Man: A REAL man.

Grandma: Sing it, son!

Forty Year Old Woman: I'm really glad they picked us, a bunch of weirdos, to film this commercial. It really says a lot about this company that they picked us.

Grandma: I agree. We're all registered sex offenders, too! It was really quite the gamble.

Forty Year Old Woman: Sometimes, gambles really pay off.

Grandma: You said it.

Black Man: Cheers!

Grandma: L'chaim!

Black Man: Buy Shutters! It will change your life forever!

Grandma: Ha ha ha ha! Shut up, black man. Don't oversell it. I will cut you.


Have you been inspired by the Windows commercial from hell? My friend, Anna Roth, is compiling a fan fiction blog with works based on the characters from the Windows house party. Her blog is here. Send her your ideas and she'll put 'em on a website. Bonus: she's an amazing editor.

Saturday, September 26, 2009

Now Playing at Western Bridge

A family drama set in multiple Ikea showrooms:



Israeli artist Guy Ben Nur makes Ikea living rooms look like foreign lands we enter into. In his film "Stealing Beauty," now playing at Western Bridge, he comments on the stark reality of remaining an immigrant in your own bedroom (your bed frame designed in Sweden, assembled in China, and sold just off I-5). He wants us to see the ridiculous dreams we attach to furniture. But Ner isn't content to simply satirize the American dream home. He also weaves in Marxist speeches, hilarious camera faux-paus, and visual gags into his work (check out the giant price tags and alien-like stock photos in the picture frames). The results transcend typical consumerist critiques.

Now playing at Western Bridge as part of a series of installations on the relationships between parents and children.

Michael Moore's New Film

It's a stinker, says Slate:

...As soon as Moore takes on larger and slipperier issues, his gray-area-free moral clarity starts to feel like a dodge. The opening titles take place over security-camera footage of bank robberies, making clear Moore's opinion of the financial bailout: In his eyes, Henry Paulson and his former Wall Street cronies are stickup artists, pure and simple. However outraged one may be about the corporate greed that led the banking system to the verge of collapse, it seems disingenuous to imply that the collapse would not have happened had nothing been done. Even left-leaning economists argued for the necessity of some kind of rescue package, a reality that Moore ignores entirely. (By chopping up her interview into unfairly small sound bites, he even makes Elizabeth Warren, the tireless watchdog who heads the Congressional Oversight Panel, look like a do-nothing bureaucrat.)

In the movie's most painfully redundant scenes, Moore approaches the Manhattan headquarters of Goldman Sachs and other investment banks and stands outside with a bag, asking the doorman to let him in to reclaim America's money. Now that 20 years have passed since his first film, Roger and Me, can we all just agree to tap into our collective memory of these moments when Moore is refused entry into corporate high-rises by polite and embarrassed doormen (all of whom belong to the working class he so loves to champion)? We get it, Mike: The head of GM will not see you. The chairman of Goldman Sachs will not see you. The secretary of the U.S. Treasury will not see you. Waste any more footage on this tired gag, and your loyal fan base may start to feel the same way.

...Once again, Moore's goodhearted aims come into direct conflict with his bludgeoning tactics.

Friday, September 25, 2009

Glee's Football Team Puts A Ring on It



Who hasn't looked out at a boring football game and wondered what it would be like if all the players started freak dancing together? Not you? You haven't had this fantasy? Well, aren't you great. Aren't you fantastic. But this has definitely been a fantasy of mine. And now my fantasy has come true (suck it, Disneyland!) because Glee has finally infected the straight men, too. This show is fast becoming the most ridiculous, nonsensically funny thing on teevee.

Thursday, September 24, 2009

Are We Really Still Having This Conversation?

Emily Gould has a post up about the fearful relationship between old-guard writers and "the Internet."


T Cooper fears that unedited, ill-thought-out online reading and writing is crowding out the curated, edited writing that appears on the printed page. He doesn’t, he says, want to see a review of Keith’s book next to a picture of your cat. He is uninterested in kitty pix in general. The idea of a Twitter novel makes him want to “kill himself.” He said that he didn’t understand why people thought other people wanted to hear about what they ate for breakfast, clearly expecting a laugh from the audience that only sort of came. (That was when I started to cringe and think of Angie Tempura.) Nunez nodded vehemently: “I always tell my writing students that your first draft is like vomit — it doesn’t smell good and no one should see it but you!” she said. Both authors shook their heads in saddened disbelief about why anyone wants to spew their vomity rough drafts all over the internet for the world to see. They complained about being encouraged by their publishers to blog, to Tweet. They resisted the undignified idea that they would be forced to be available to their readers via online presences that they themselves would have to participate in creating. At this point, an audience member asked all the panelists how involved they had been in their books’ marketing campaigns. I don’t remember exactly what Cooper said but he seemed to regret that he’d had to be involved at all. In general the idea seemed to be that book marketing ought to be something that an omniscient, dogged employee of one’s publisher does while the author remains behind the scenes, unsullied by hustling.


What is the problem here? I just can't seem to wrap my head around this one. Blogs are good....stream-of-conscious journaling is good.....sharing your writing is good....more writers in America processing their shit online is good. What, exactly, is so goddamn shameful about a blog?

30 Rock Will Be Back on Air in Two Weeks

And if you're as obsessed as I am, you will surely appreciate this segment about the drunk, heroin-addicted improv coach who guided Ms. Fey (as well as Jim Belushi, John Candy, Rachel Dratch, Amy Poehler, Gilda Radner and Andy Richter) towards fame via self-humiliation.

Have You Seen the Newish Justice Music Video?



Take it away, LA Times:

There are plenty of gasp-worthy moments in the French electronica duo Justice's video for "Stress": when one of its becrucifixed teenage bangers, all notably black, Middle Eastern or North African, gropes a woman in a train station; when another smacks a cafe owner in the face with a bottle; when the whole gang whales on a police officer with his own baton. But the most telling moment is its one instance of levity; the gang steals a car and, supremely annoyed by Justice's hit "D.A.N.C.E." on the radio, kicks the dashboard to pieces.

It's a clever, self-deprecating gag, but entirely symptomatic of the spirit of this horrifically compelling video from director Romain Gavras, which debuted two weeks ago to instant controversy on Kanye West's blog. The clip's merits lie solely in the aesthetic power of its allusions and references. In this case, the video gestures at the 2005 riots that swept through the Parisian suburbs and painfully underscored the deep division of race, class and religion in what many outsiders saw as a model society.

The duo admitted in a press release about the clip that "we have neither the intention nor the legitimacy to express ourselves, in any in-depth way, on social issues." If that's truly the case, then Justice has made an irresponsible and intentionally thoughtless video that does nothing to further understanding, empathy or clarity of the issues they gesture at here. That makes "Stress" a powerful but truly failed piece of art. "Opening up debate" is a good start for a piece of art's goals -- it's the height of laziness to call it an end point.



But, as my friend Emma Tupper pointed out, isn't the whole point of the video to make the audience simultaneously attracted to, and repelled by, their own racism and obsession with violence? And if putting audiences through that kind of mental torture is somehow lazy art, what does that say about movies like "A Clockwork Orange"?

This Looks Amazing

The Spin on Obama's Foreign Policy

...is, of course, complete and utter hogwash.

Obama's promise was and is a re-branding of America (which was the primary reason I supported him). Of course, if you are a neocon, you see no need to rebrand after Gitmo, Iraq, Bagram and Abu Ghraib. Torture and pre-emptive wars waged on false pretenses are things to be proud of. But if you are capable of absorbing complicated reality, you realize that such a re-branding was essential if the US were to dig itself out of the Bush-Cheney ditch and to advance its interests by defter means than raw violence and occupation.


The neocons still think the world is a wretched place and America is the only salvation. They deplore diplomacy. They think diplomacy is akin to "being weak." Andrew Sullivan tears into that argument:

Confidence is not the same thing as weakness. It is better understood, I think, as a rational attempt to seek self-interest through international cooperation, to see the US less as the hegemon than as the facilitator. If it works, it will be a breakthrough. If it works.

Seattle Could Use a Superintendent Like Michelle Rhee

Washington needs to begin to objectively assess the skills of our teachers. Michelle Rhee, the bad-ass, earth-scorching, unapologetic new superintendent of D.C. public schools has been firing all the district's bad teachers, and is now looking to create a system that will provide monetary incentives for good teaching. She looks down at the ways we let teachers off the hook. Just listen to this bad-assery:

"People come to me all the time and say, 'Why did you fire this person?'" she says..."'She's a good person. She's a nice person.' I'm like, 'O.K., go tell her to work at the post office.' Just because you're a nice person and you mean well does not mean you have a right to a job in this district."


Why haven't we already fired all the bad teachers from our schools? Because parents at failing schools aren't invested and principles are too scared to cause of conflict:


"What I'm finding is that our principals are ridiculously--like ridiculously--conflict-averse," Rhee says. "They know someone is not so good, and they want to give him a 'Meets expectations' anyway because they don't want to deal with the person coming into the office and yelling and getting the parents riled up."


Good teachers, few and far between, are not "normal people." They are great seducers. They lull you into learning. Forget the backs of their heads- they have eyes in their shoulders, too, and ears that hear every piece of chatter. They demand complete and utter absorption:


Most of all, they are in a hurry. They never feel that there is enough time in the day. They quiz kids on their multiplication tables while they walk to lunch. And they don't give up on their worst students, even when any normal person would.


In essence: you have to be an egomaniacal, audaciously hopeful, ridalin-popping stress junkie to be one of the good teachers. And how much should these superhumans be rewarded?

Earlier this year, [Rhee] proposed a revolutionary new model to let teachers choose between two pay scales. They could make up to $130,000 in merit pay on the basis of their effectiveness--in exchange for giving up tenure for one year. Or they could keep tenure and accept a smaller raise. (Currently, the average teacher's salary in Washington is $65,902.)


I love this idea. $130,000! Now that's a competitive salary. Seattle's schools aren't in quite as deplorable condition but why not start creating a meritocracy here? Bad teachers will complain and, if we have any guts whatsoever, we'll refuse to listen.

Being Out in High School is Still "Provocative"

The New York Times cover story this week is all about how gay people are coming out younger and younger. That's not to say that there's anything perfect about being a 13-year-old gay boy.

Here's a Mom talking about the homophobic bullying at her son's school:

“...I spent the entire year in the principal’s office trying to get them to protect my son. But they would say things like, ‘Well, what did he do to provoke them?’ We live in a very conservative area with very vocal parents, and I believe the school didn’t want to be seen as going out of their way at all to protect a gay student.”


What could a gay person do to "provoke" a homophobe? Just about anything. That's the thing about homophobia: it's all about shifting blame from you, the homophobe, to someone who's "provoking" you. You're not anti-gay, you just don't want to be provoked by the gays into, oh, I don't know, wearing cone boobs and singing Mariah Carey, or whatever it is fags do.

By far the most common usage of the word “gay” in middle schools is in the expression “that’s so gay,” a popular adolescent phrase that means that something is dumb or lame. The phrase has become so ubiquitous in the culture of the average middle school that even friends of gay students sometimes use it. Still, the expression is offensive to many, and last year Glsen and the Ad Council embarked on a media campaign to combat it. (Glsen would have preferred to go after more incendiary language, “but broadcasters would be very reluctant to let us say the word ‘faggot’ on television,” Eliza Byard, Glsen’s executive director, told me.)


The problem with fighting the expression "That's So Gay" is the fact that many things are, in fact, pretty gay. We shouldn't ban people from saying gay as if it's some kind of swear word. If a book is pink, and that reminds you of homosex, you should be able to say that it's gay. It's a colloquial term, and I agree it's ridiculously offensive when used negatively, but banning it from usage will just make it seem hipper and funnier.

Still, the ending killed me. This is the author talking about a dad who took his young son to their city's pride parade:

"He doesn’t totally understand why Austin is gay, or how he can know for sure at his age, but he’s trying to be there for him. And he’s rarely seen Austin happier than at the parade. Austin warned his dad, ‘You can’t get mad at me when I scream at cute guys in Speedos!’ And boy, did Austin scream. He was in gay teenage heaven.”


Aw, shoo. Straight dads taking their gay sons to pride parades? You done made me cry a little bit, NYT.

On Tavern Law

What's behind the speakeasy trend? Tavern Law's upstairs looks like a set for a 50's movie, and not in a good way. It's long on ostentation, short on charm. Knee High has good intentions, but the space is overly spartan. Why do we want to pretend drinking is illegal? There's nothing particularly sexy about old America's hypocritical relationship to alcohol.

Mount Vernon is Giving Glenn Beck the Keys to the City

Who's going to throw the first shoe?

Friday, September 18, 2009

Guide to the Citizens of Seattle

Inside the Heads of the People You See on the Street

Monotonous Barista at Cafe Ladro

This man emigrated from the land of Northern Idaho where he was taught that the Dodo birds died off because they practiced sodomy. Now, he's often quiet because there's just too much to say and he doesn't want to scare people away by being "too much". Better to be a quiet, humble barista warming up snickerdoodles in microwaves for soccer moms wearing Patagonia. He longs to express more emotion, preferably while playing guitar in front of a cute girl. Sadly, he cannot be surgically attached to a guitar so that every time he gets sad he has an "outlet" available immediately, with no searching around. Things that haven't adequately provoked emotions: stream-of-conscious journaling, RomComs and trying to picture dead puppies. He genuinely enjoys helping people, and doesn't understand why some of his coworkers can be so cynical about their jobs. He believes newspaper take the fun out of going to concerts. He used to feel all romantic and longing while staring at the Seattle skyline on the drive to downtown, but now he just sees a collection of buildings. This reflects a generally expanding malaise, and he's still not sure if it's something he should be worried about.


Young Man Wearing I-Pod with Sports Wristband at U-Village


This man just read Ekhart Toll's new book and went to the Landmark Forum and read "The Secret" so you'd better watch what kind of energy you send out around him or he might classify you, vaguely, as "negative". If you were a demographer for an advertising agency, he'd probably fall into the category of middle-aged, middle-class woman because he also appreciates Oprah, eats cupcakes and is excited that Project Runway is now on Lifetime. You can tease him about his "self-help addiction" but he's really just trying to find a way to love his depressing Mom and shitty (okay, "unenlightened"), emotionally distanced room mates.


Excitable Musical Theater Girl Talking with her Friend at Espresso Express


All this girl wants to do is share a few youtube videos with you, okay? This one will be funnier, really. In all seriousness, though, this girl appreciates the Glee remix of "Gold Digger" better than the original. There's just something so pure about a Carnegie-Mellon-trained vibrato. This girl is convinced that, astrologically, she's meant to be having more exciting experiences than the ones she's having right now. Can't things just be a little more exciting? That's why she has 2,000 photos on Facebook. Not because she's an egomaniac, but because it's important to have an exciting life. And maintain eye contact. Even with cats. Researchers have proven this.

Teenage Girl at Urban Outfitters on the Ave

Past friends have charged that this girl "sticks her head in the sand" when the going gets rough. You could say she doesn't always know what to do when people around her are upset. But, what the hell, she's only in high school. And who really knows who they are in high school? She's buying a kitschy book in the front of the store just because she's had it in her head since 9am today that she'd feel productive if she just bought something from Urban Outfitters. Things she doesn't understand: her brother's copy of Adbusters and why a friend called her needy. She likes the way time collapses when she's on the phone, and the way her boyfriend teases her, gently, when she gets really upset about something.

4'7", 80-Year-Old Woman Walking Around Greenlake

Doctors said she couldn't, but she is. She actually kind of likes the way the air fills with the smell of goose poop right around the Bath House theater. She misses her son, who left for Baltimore, and her dog, who died of cancer. She doesn't really understand why talking about someone is considered gossiping. Nobody ever thought that way in New York. Why do they feel that way here? She's just curious. She wishes her daughter would at least pretend to be interested in the things she talks about on the phone. That way, she'd know that she cared about her feelings, if not the things themselves. Sometimes she gets scared that the stories she's constructed about her husband might actually be true. But it's been a while since he acted that distanced, and maybe some sex on the side would actually be good for him. None of her friends would understand, but she's actually okay with the idea of him cheating. As long as they aren't watching movies together. She's the one who gets to watch movies with him. That's important.


Old Man Wearing Biking Gear at Safeway


This man is distracted because he's about to meet with his life coach. Every thought he's been having, he now thinks, just a second later, "I wonder what my life coach would say?" and it's kind of ruining moments for him, and his ability to cope with things on his own. Friends have called him "over-analytical" but he thinks he's just being helpful, shedding light, bringing clarity, etc. He's okay with the fact that things aren't incredibly happy at home because they're comfortable, and they could be a lot worse. Some people have nothing, and it's hard to feel bad about yourself when, really, you do have something. There was a point in his life when he was able to just sit and write and be totally absorbed for hours. He wishes, more than anything, to feel that way about something again.

Slightly Morose Recent Bryn Mawr Graduate on the MacBook at Stumptown

You spend four years, and they're the best years, and you feel like it all makes sense and then, ugh, even the way you want to describe it to someone feels cliche. This girl (err, woman, sorry) is now living at home with her Mom and her asthmatic dog. Every day feels a little bit worthless (to be completely honest!) after the past four years. Don't even bring up grad school: it's just not going to work out right now. You find a way of being in the classroom, and when you're high, and when you're tripping on shrooms and talking, excitedly about "the future" and then, you know, it's just so cliche about having to give all that up for the temp job with the employees who seem perfectly satisfied with their dissatisfaction. Berlin is a maybe, but then she'd need to buy a Rosetta Stone or jack it from a website. Woofing in France? No, remember that Buddhist book and stay present, stay present. Picture Enya stroking a kitten. Or a river. Something that helps.

Baby-Faced Dude Locking His Bike in Front of Cafe Presse

This dude likes to watch Degrassi High while he's stoned out of his brain. It's not that he's laughing at it ironically: he actually thinks it was a pretty socially and culturally innovative show for its time. They dealt with lesbianism and handicapped characters before any show would touch that kind of thing. Sure, the acting is waayy off, but that's because they're teenagers playing teenagers. Sometimes, when he's watching shows like Degrassi, he'll act out scenes for his friends and end up matching the tone and nuances of the show perfectly, even making up lines that hilariously deconstruct the director's intentions. He's not sure if that means he should go back to acting school. He just doesn't know if he's really that competitive. And the whole idea of creating a constellation of completely unique character traits and then not taking it personally when hundreds of people say they don't like your character...well...doesn't that kind of kill people inside? He likes working at Cafe Presse because, even though people can be snobs, he can be a snob right back to them.

Woman Wearing Coldwater Creek at Musashi's

Radical teaching pedagogies really get under your skin. Now, even eating sushi among the general population, this woman can't help but think about the "potential" of that young man wearing Fubu and pouring soy sauce on his sushi. Downside: she's now aware of every single racist thought in her head (kind of depressing and discouraging, but helpful when you work at public school). Her therapist says she needs to stop expecting to have meaningful experiences with everyone she meets, but sometimes she can't help it. Like the store owner: what's her life been like? She probably has a wonderfully interesting story to tell. Would the students listen if she brought her in? She's doing it again. "Wanting things." Whatever. Maybe the therapist is wrong. Her tone was a little bit patronizing, anyway. And what do therapists know, if all they see are people like her day in and day out? It's fine to want things. It's fine to be a romantic.

Downtown Librarian Eating a Muffin on Lunch Break

There's something that happens when someone refuses to meet you on your level. You say something revealing and honest to them, and maybe they laugh in the wrong pitch, or too quickly, or after too much time has passed, or maybe they end up saying nothing at all. Maybe they do the worst thing ever and say something like "awww" or "I'm sorry to hear that" in the sound of a self-help robot. In any case, you're left with the same feeling you had before you talked to them, plus a gnawing sense of alienation and dread for the human condition. These are the people who end up shutting you down, replacing your organs with steel and turning your body cold. They're worse than mean people, really. You can at least fight with mean people. Their brand of awfulness is fully recognizable. But these other people, the walking dead, are so sly, yet so deadening, that they render you emotionally vacuous while appearing to do nothing at all. There's a cumulative effect when these are the people you work with day in and day out. This woman cannot help but wonder what life would be like without these people. She's waiting for all of them to leave her alone, yet depressingly aware that they may never. Short of running away and living in a cabin, she's just not quite sure what to do. Sometimes she just wants someone to yell. At her. A good yell in the face: it might actually feel nice.

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

The Best Place in the Seattle Lonely Planet

It's charming, mouth-watering, theatrical, stylish, painstakingly selected, affordable, authentic, classy, cozy, hand-made, helpful, make-your-friend-drool, worth a pilgramige, totally reasonable, original, kitschy, cool, stylish, rough-hewn, educational, welcoming, dark, divey, roomy, comfortable, sophisticated, prestigious, atmospheric, gritty, cheap, traditional, authentic, spacious, jazzy, scenester-approved, generous, crowded, frenetic, gay, and, above all, unpretentious.

Tuesday, September 8, 2009

Thursday, September 3, 2009

.......Oh god. Cats.

I don't know what to do right now.

....I'm sitting a few feet away from a manic cat.

This cat...this insane creature who likely believes she is hunting in the Serengeti but is actually in a living room - just leaped off the table, ran down the hall, clawed her way up a bookcase, and then, as if nothing had happened , sat and licked herself. Then she leaped again, this time off the bookcase, climbed up the blinds and sat, and licked herself. You'd think that'd be enough, right? That all that leaping had satisfied whatever weird urge cats get to suddenly fly through the air, but no, no, because then this cat leaped off the blinds and landed on the table, which, it turns out, is also a place where one can sit and lick oneself. Maybe the table was too shiny, or maybe she felt 'on show' like a banquet food, or maybe she saw God in a recess peanut butter cup, but, whatever it was, she then felt compelled to jump (legs flailing, eyes wild) on to the ledge above the fireplace where she is currently- you guessed it- sitting and licking herself (Hair is obvs delicious. Have you tried?)

Any small movement could potentially set her off, so I'm trying to type as discreetly as possible.

The vet told my friend that her cat was the worst-trained cat she's ever seen. I think that's a little judgy. See, cats were not meant to live with humans. Cats are in a completely different world where blinds are trees, tails are rats and humans are annoyances who randomly serve tunafish. We kid ourselves by thinking that these hedonistic, poorly-domesticated miniature lions are actually enjoying their time in our boring houses. I think this cat would rather be a manic depressive character in a soap opera. Or the world's most intimate hair-stylist, har har.

Oh. My God.

I think she just heard that.

I have to go now.