In the celebrity world, career dabbling is a relatively common occurrence. Once a person has risen to celebrity status, they have easy access to the necessary resources, such as agents, publicists, and various other in-the-biz connections, which will allow them to change careers almost as often as they change their bed sheets - think celebrities like Jennifer Lopez and Hillary Duff who oscillate between being actresses and singers. Career changes like these are especially made possible in today’s celebrity world thanks to contraptions like auto-tune, which has lead to the replacement of talent and skill with marketability as the key component in determining the level of success with a celebrity career switcharoo. Most marketable celebrities are able to make relatively seamless career transitions. Yet, there are definitely those select few…ahem cough cough David Hasselhoff and his musical stylings…who are either down right mocktastic, or beg the question, “What the hell were they smoking?”
Both are the case with two-time Academy Award nominated Joaquin Phoenix’s decision to abandon his acting career in favor of morphing into a snappily dressed, rapping grizzly bear. There is a lot of speculation surrounding Mr. Phoenix’s anomalous profession transition, however. When Joaquin first announced that he was going to scrap acting for hip-hop, most people drew the same conclusion: the boy is chock full-o-nuts, mm hmm. Yet after a recent Las Vegas performance where Joaquin dazzled the masses as he spit and sputtered robotic rhymes from three songs from his upcoming album (not to mention the grand finale when he fell off the stage, which proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that hip-hop is in fact Joaquin’s true life calling), it seems much more likely that Mr. Phoenix is pulling an elaborate Andy Kaufman-esque hoax with the help of his brother-in-law, Casey Affleck. According Entertainment Weekly, Joaquin reportedly told a source, “It's a put-on. I'm going to pretend to have a meltdown and change careers, and Casey is going to film it.” Apparently, Joaquin’s motivations behind this alleged career swap are both to satirize pretentious actors and to prank the paparazzi. At any rate, whether Joaquin’s rapping grizzly bear persona is for real or all for the sake of a Phoenix/Affleck mockumentary, either way it’s pretty entertaining.
Now, while Joaquin Phoenix’s outlandish career change may be a giant sized practical joke, other celebrities like Kevin Federline are very serious about their latest vocation endeavors. K-Fed, everyone’s favorite former backup dancer/second rate rapper, is stepping up to the profession plate for a third time. Kevin is looking to redeem himself for his first two career strike outs with a hit as a children’s clothing designer. That’s right folks, the former Mr. Britney Spears is going into the tiny tot costume business. Kevin’s design plan hasn’t been set in stone yet, but according to the MTV Newsroom, Kevin has been chatting up fashion executive Gerard Guez about the launch of his proposed line of children’s clothing, which he aims to make affordable yet stylish. So what can we expect from the man whose debut album pales in comparison to even that of David Hasselhoff’s? Probably something along the lines of a Baby Gap stocked with an array of tiny wife beaters, baggy baby jeans, and heavy gold chains…perfect for teething.
Another celebrity to take a stab at an unlikely, vocational alteration is Kevin Costner, who recently expanded his field of dreams to include lead singer of the country-rock band, Modern West. According to People Magazine, Kevin has been playing music with some of his Modern West band mates for close to twenty years, but it wasn’t until this past November that the group released their first album, which features twelve songs, six of which were co-written by Mr. Costner. “I remember looking out into the crowd, thinking, ‘This just feels right.’” Kevin previously said about performing at an early Modern West show. Hey, the man’s career didn’t completely pull a Titanic after Waterworld and The Postman, so who knows, maybe Mr. Dances...err Sings with Wolves will be the next Garth Brooks.
Celebrity career changes are fairly common and some certainly work better than others. To conclude, here is a list of some of the more unexpected career alterations:
Kate Moss - actress (apparently she does have a voice)
Steven Seagal - singer with his gem of an album “Songs from the Crystal Cave”
Lance Bass - astronaut (N’Sync’s Space Cowboy must have really struck a chord)
Clint Eastwood - singer (Dirty Harry cut a pair of singles and a long playing record called “Rawhide’s Clint Eastwood Sings Cowboy Favorites” in the 60’s)
And of course the perennial favorite of career chameleons, Arnold Schwarzenegger, the former body builder/actor turned governor of California.
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Frownie Brownie Oscars
Movies started out as a comic medium. With the birth of film around the turn of the 20th century, the first movies to be made were silent films, which relied heavily on comedic methods, such as slapstick and burlesque. Silent movie comic icons like Harold Lloyd, Buster Keaton, and Charlie Chaplin pantomimed their way into the hearts of Americans with their clownish, Keystone chase scenes and their charming characters like “The Tramp.” When reliable synchronized sound was introduced into movies in the 1920’s, comedy films could take humor to new levels. Jokes could now be incorporated into the dialogue and complex farces could be crafted. This would lead to the development of the subgenre of the comedy genre, called the screwball comedy, which gained prominence in the 1930’s with films like “The Awful Truth“ and “It Happened One Night.” Other groundbreaking screwball comedians, such as the Marx Brothers and the Three Stooges, emerged during this time period.
It is pretty clear that laughter has played a significant role in both the birth and the sustained popularity of film as an entertainment medium. So why is it then that when it comes to the Oscars, comedies tend to get the cold shoulder?
The Oscars have been around for more than three quarters of a century, yet only a handful of true comedies have managed to snag the big tuna, best picture prize. The most recent of which is Woody Allen’s “Annie Hall,” which won the best picture trophy in 1977. You do the math. That’s more than 30 years ago! While it’s true that 1998’s Oscar champ, “Shakespeare in Love,” can be classified as a comedy, this film is one of those sphinx-like, hybrid movies that is part comedy, part biopic, and part romance. Plus, it carries considerable tragic weightiness with it as well.
So after 30 solemn years, it would seem that the Oscars are long overdue to award an outstanding comedy film. Unfortunately, however, it looks as though humor will have to wait another year before it can even make an appearance at the Oscars, as apparently the Academy has fumigated for comedy this year and has removed all traces of laughtermites from the 2009 best picture line-up. The storylines of this year’s nominated films range from the heartbreaking journey of a young orphan from the slums of Mumbai in “Slumdog Millionaire” to an account of the tragically brief career of the first openly gay, American politician in “Milk.” These dramatic films may be wrought with emotional meatiness that tugs on heart strings, but let’s not forget that it is often comedic works that present the most lucid analysis of a society’s idiosyncrasies and apprehensions. Some fine comedy films to go unrecognized by this year’s Oscars include, “In Bruges,” “Happy-Go-Lucky,” and “Vicky Cristina Barcelona.” Two other noteworthy comedies that were at least nominated for Oscars are 2006’s “Little Miss Sunshine” and 2007’s “Juno.” These two films may not have been able to snag the best picture trophy, but they represent two of the more original and charismatic films to hit American theaters in a long time.
At the Oscars, it’s not just the best picture category that is typically anti-comedy. The best actor/actress categories also usually favor dramatic performances over comedic ones. Of the more than 300 acting Oscars that have been awarded, fewer than 30 of them have been handed out for performances whose emotional muscle had arisen mostly from the actor or actresses aptitude for tickling the audience’s funny bone. It is likely that this disparity exists on account of the perception that dramatic roles are more challenging to perform and are therefore more award-worthy. It may be true that for many comedies and comedic roles, the level of emotionality is about as weighty as Nicole Ritchie tied to a flotilla of helium balloons (take “City Slickers” or “Ace Ventura: Pet Detective” for example). Dramas and dramatic acting roles are capable of tapping into a broader and deeper range of emotions, which can include laughter and happiness, along with anger, and sadness, and the rest of the emotions gang. Whereas comedies and comedic acting roles tend to be restricted to communicating funniness, lest the humorific mood be spoiled. But this is by no means to say that dramas and dramatic roles truly are more laudable than comedic ones. The skill set used to craft commendable comedic performances is just different, that’s all. In fact, there is a saying that goes, “Dying is easy, comedy is hard.”
Perhaps the Oscars should take a lesson from the Golden Globes and create a separate category for comedies. After all, a distinct category for best animated film was made when it became apparent that animated films didn’t have a shot in hell of taking home an overall best picture trophy. So why not do the same for comedies? When Los Angles Times writer, Patrick Goldstein, posed the idea to the motion picture academy president, Sid Ganis, Mr. Ganis dismissed the idea, saying that if comedies have won the Oscar for best picture in the past, then why wouldn’t a deserving comedy be able to do so in the future? Well, Mr. Ganis, your response wreaks of the fumes of cop out. It seems pretty obvious that the message here is clear: Oscar is a drama queen.
It is pretty clear that laughter has played a significant role in both the birth and the sustained popularity of film as an entertainment medium. So why is it then that when it comes to the Oscars, comedies tend to get the cold shoulder?
The Oscars have been around for more than three quarters of a century, yet only a handful of true comedies have managed to snag the big tuna, best picture prize. The most recent of which is Woody Allen’s “Annie Hall,” which won the best picture trophy in 1977. You do the math. That’s more than 30 years ago! While it’s true that 1998’s Oscar champ, “Shakespeare in Love,” can be classified as a comedy, this film is one of those sphinx-like, hybrid movies that is part comedy, part biopic, and part romance. Plus, it carries considerable tragic weightiness with it as well.
So after 30 solemn years, it would seem that the Oscars are long overdue to award an outstanding comedy film. Unfortunately, however, it looks as though humor will have to wait another year before it can even make an appearance at the Oscars, as apparently the Academy has fumigated for comedy this year and has removed all traces of laughtermites from the 2009 best picture line-up. The storylines of this year’s nominated films range from the heartbreaking journey of a young orphan from the slums of Mumbai in “Slumdog Millionaire” to an account of the tragically brief career of the first openly gay, American politician in “Milk.” These dramatic films may be wrought with emotional meatiness that tugs on heart strings, but let’s not forget that it is often comedic works that present the most lucid analysis of a society’s idiosyncrasies and apprehensions. Some fine comedy films to go unrecognized by this year’s Oscars include, “In Bruges,” “Happy-Go-Lucky,” and “Vicky Cristina Barcelona.” Two other noteworthy comedies that were at least nominated for Oscars are 2006’s “Little Miss Sunshine” and 2007’s “Juno.” These two films may not have been able to snag the best picture trophy, but they represent two of the more original and charismatic films to hit American theaters in a long time.
At the Oscars, it’s not just the best picture category that is typically anti-comedy. The best actor/actress categories also usually favor dramatic performances over comedic ones. Of the more than 300 acting Oscars that have been awarded, fewer than 30 of them have been handed out for performances whose emotional muscle had arisen mostly from the actor or actresses aptitude for tickling the audience’s funny bone. It is likely that this disparity exists on account of the perception that dramatic roles are more challenging to perform and are therefore more award-worthy. It may be true that for many comedies and comedic roles, the level of emotionality is about as weighty as Nicole Ritchie tied to a flotilla of helium balloons (take “City Slickers” or “Ace Ventura: Pet Detective” for example). Dramas and dramatic acting roles are capable of tapping into a broader and deeper range of emotions, which can include laughter and happiness, along with anger, and sadness, and the rest of the emotions gang. Whereas comedies and comedic acting roles tend to be restricted to communicating funniness, lest the humorific mood be spoiled. But this is by no means to say that dramas and dramatic roles truly are more laudable than comedic ones. The skill set used to craft commendable comedic performances is just different, that’s all. In fact, there is a saying that goes, “Dying is easy, comedy is hard.”
Perhaps the Oscars should take a lesson from the Golden Globes and create a separate category for comedies. After all, a distinct category for best animated film was made when it became apparent that animated films didn’t have a shot in hell of taking home an overall best picture trophy. So why not do the same for comedies? When Los Angles Times writer, Patrick Goldstein, posed the idea to the motion picture academy president, Sid Ganis, Mr. Ganis dismissed the idea, saying that if comedies have won the Oscar for best picture in the past, then why wouldn’t a deserving comedy be able to do so in the future? Well, Mr. Ganis, your response wreaks of the fumes of cop out. It seems pretty obvious that the message here is clear: Oscar is a drama queen.
Thursday, February 5, 2009
I don't Tan, I burn.
It is officially official, Stacey and I have penetrated the inner swing circle at Henry’s, boo yah. No longer do we gawk Wilson from Home Improvement style at the swingers from our designated posts behind the dance floor’s partition. No siree, Bob. Now, when we make the swing scene, we roll patio side with our new, swingterranean chums, and it is glorious. We still look like buffoons on the dance floor, but it’s cool, a work in progress.
The swing dancers who frequent Henry’s Pub are like the cuddliest bunch of people that you will ever meet. They are all a pack of bouncy, saddle shoe wearing, teddy bears.
One such teddy bear stands out from among the crowd. His name is Tan and he is this scrawny, California born stick of energy who used to teach swing dancing lessons at UCSD but now works as a math teacher for rich folks’ kiddies down in Brazil.
Unfortunately, however, Tan was only in San Diego for about a month while his Brazilian school was on vacation. Nevertheless, I still got to get plenty of top-notch dances in with him before he had to fly the coop.
One Tuesday, I had to cut swing night short because I had to rise and shine at the ass crack of dawn the next day for a job interview. My Tancing buddy was not pleased with my early departure plan, so I pinky swore that we would dance together the next night until the sun came up. This was probably one of the more ill-advised phalange contracts that I little fingered my way into, since I’m fairly certain that it is Red Bull, not blood, that streams it’s way through Tan the man’s veins.
The next night was so much fun though. The festivities commenced with a swing dance lesson at UCSD conducted by two of Tan’s old chums and was followed by a trip to the Firehouse where Stacey and I dazzled the masses with our new swingtastic dance moves…and by “dazzled” I mean continued to look like buffoons.
Afterwards, we went downtown to hang out at the condo where Tan was staying while we was in town. Tan’s two Brazilian friends, who accompanied him on his trip back to SD, had us in stitches laughing all night regaling us with tales of their sleep walking adventures and near death experiences. There’s just something about animated broken English that makes me happy.
Anyways, at around 3 my goose was cooked (didn’t quite make it ’til sunrise, but close enough) so Tan drove Stacey and myself back to our apartment, sweet, apartment.
Then, about half an hour later, I got a call from Tan asking me out to lunch with him the next day. Mmm I’ll have the “Oh crap” mixed salad with a side of curly, “I think this is might be a date” fries.
Order up.
Yep, totally was a date. After we finished lunching at the Tai restaurant in Hillcrest, we took a leisurely stroll around the block, where crouching Tan, hidden motive made his move. The gist of the happening was…
Tan: “So I’m in the market for a girlfriend, any takers? …Bueller?”
Actually, if truth be told, Tan the man was out shopping for a wifey (I don’t know what it is about San Diego, but I have met so many early nesters out here!).
Frick on a stick. I felt so bad. I wanted to let the little guy down easy. He is so genuinely sweet, but I was so genuinely uninterested. Therefore, I went into “Ward off unwanted male attention” mode and applied a generous helping of “Let me tell you about my fake boyfriend” cream to the infected situation (Side effects may include: headache, nausea, sad puppy dog eyes, and persistent awkward silences).
After a solid ten minutes of side effect number 4, my dancin’ friend bounced back and we ended the afternoon with pleasantries and a friendly hug.
Thumbs down for date sniping.
The swing dancers who frequent Henry’s Pub are like the cuddliest bunch of people that you will ever meet. They are all a pack of bouncy, saddle shoe wearing, teddy bears.
One such teddy bear stands out from among the crowd. His name is Tan and he is this scrawny, California born stick of energy who used to teach swing dancing lessons at UCSD but now works as a math teacher for rich folks’ kiddies down in Brazil.
Unfortunately, however, Tan was only in San Diego for about a month while his Brazilian school was on vacation. Nevertheless, I still got to get plenty of top-notch dances in with him before he had to fly the coop.
One Tuesday, I had to cut swing night short because I had to rise and shine at the ass crack of dawn the next day for a job interview. My Tancing buddy was not pleased with my early departure plan, so I pinky swore that we would dance together the next night until the sun came up. This was probably one of the more ill-advised phalange contracts that I little fingered my way into, since I’m fairly certain that it is Red Bull, not blood, that streams it’s way through Tan the man’s veins.
The next night was so much fun though. The festivities commenced with a swing dance lesson at UCSD conducted by two of Tan’s old chums and was followed by a trip to the Firehouse where Stacey and I dazzled the masses with our new swingtastic dance moves…and by “dazzled” I mean continued to look like buffoons.
Afterwards, we went downtown to hang out at the condo where Tan was staying while we was in town. Tan’s two Brazilian friends, who accompanied him on his trip back to SD, had us in stitches laughing all night regaling us with tales of their sleep walking adventures and near death experiences. There’s just something about animated broken English that makes me happy.
Anyways, at around 3 my goose was cooked (didn’t quite make it ’til sunrise, but close enough) so Tan drove Stacey and myself back to our apartment, sweet, apartment.
Then, about half an hour later, I got a call from Tan asking me out to lunch with him the next day. Mmm I’ll have the “Oh crap” mixed salad with a side of curly, “I think this is might be a date” fries.
Order up.
Yep, totally was a date. After we finished lunching at the Tai restaurant in Hillcrest, we took a leisurely stroll around the block, where crouching Tan, hidden motive made his move. The gist of the happening was…
Tan: “So I’m in the market for a girlfriend, any takers? …Bueller?”
Actually, if truth be told, Tan the man was out shopping for a wifey (I don’t know what it is about San Diego, but I have met so many early nesters out here!).
Frick on a stick. I felt so bad. I wanted to let the little guy down easy. He is so genuinely sweet, but I was so genuinely uninterested. Therefore, I went into “Ward off unwanted male attention” mode and applied a generous helping of “Let me tell you about my fake boyfriend” cream to the infected situation (Side effects may include: headache, nausea, sad puppy dog eyes, and persistent awkward silences).
After a solid ten minutes of side effect number 4, my dancin’ friend bounced back and we ended the afternoon with pleasantries and a friendly hug.
Thumbs down for date sniping.
Monday, January 19, 2009
The Fam Came Out West!
So yes, the whole fam, brothers and all, came out west to visit me over the holidays.
It was great having them all out here…for the first five minutes.
My family is uberly sarcastic and competitive with one another (there was a code orange situation between my brothers over a bet to see who could name the most Samuel L. Jackson movies) and when we are forced to cohabitate tight quarters with one another for extended periods of time, such as hotel rooms and tiny rental cars, the mood is often tense and hostile.
(Side note: why is it that practically every guy I know secretly lusts after Samuel L. Jackson? I wouldn’t be at all surprised if the almighty Shaft was the surreptitious star of many a chicken choking fantasies. Let’s not forget that this is the man who brought us the film Snakes on a Plane. Wince.)
But no, all in all, I had a great time with the fam and we got to do a lot of fun-filled family activities. The most sock rockin’ of which were going to L.A. for a day, spending an afternoon south of the border in Tijuana, and lunching at the Kansas City Barbeque, a.k.a. the Top Gun Bar.
While I uncompromisingly publicly deride the lofty level of fromaginess of what is quite possibly Tom Cruise’s most immortalizing of movies, the truth is that my mockery serves as a flimsy shroud for my covert adoration of Top Gun and all things Cruise related. As far as I am concerned, Tommy boy can spring a crazy leak on as many of Opera’s couches as he likes and I will always support him, even in his choice to rob the cradle of Mushy-Face McHolmes.
Spending the day in L.A. was so fantastic! My body was peppered with goose bumps the entire time. Mostly at the thought of having a close encounter of the celebrity kind (Unfortunately, however, we did not see a single celeb…not even a double D-list star like Anna Faris), but also because I think L.A. is going to be my next life pit-stop after my Sandy Eggo coach turns into a pumpkin.
The greatest part of going to L.A. was visiting the Kodak Theater (for those of you who don’t know what that is, the Kodak Theater has been the casa of the Academy Awards for the past 7 years). It was magnificent. The entire time I was there, I was fighting back the urge to either burst into tears or defecate my pants, like an overly enthused, pants-wearing monkey. During the tour, I sat in the front row, 4th chair from the right (if you’re facing the stage) and now, I so can not wait for Oscar night to see whose caboose is parked in my seat!
Starry eyed sigh. No matter how many times I brush my teeth, I can’t seem to get the taste of Oscar ambrosia out of my mouth. Mmm minty fresh pipedreams.
It was great having them all out here…for the first five minutes.
My family is uberly sarcastic and competitive with one another (there was a code orange situation between my brothers over a bet to see who could name the most Samuel L. Jackson movies) and when we are forced to cohabitate tight quarters with one another for extended periods of time, such as hotel rooms and tiny rental cars, the mood is often tense and hostile.
(Side note: why is it that practically every guy I know secretly lusts after Samuel L. Jackson? I wouldn’t be at all surprised if the almighty Shaft was the surreptitious star of many a chicken choking fantasies. Let’s not forget that this is the man who brought us the film Snakes on a Plane. Wince.)
But no, all in all, I had a great time with the fam and we got to do a lot of fun-filled family activities. The most sock rockin’ of which were going to L.A. for a day, spending an afternoon south of the border in Tijuana, and lunching at the Kansas City Barbeque, a.k.a. the Top Gun Bar.
While I uncompromisingly publicly deride the lofty level of fromaginess of what is quite possibly Tom Cruise’s most immortalizing of movies, the truth is that my mockery serves as a flimsy shroud for my covert adoration of Top Gun and all things Cruise related. As far as I am concerned, Tommy boy can spring a crazy leak on as many of Opera’s couches as he likes and I will always support him, even in his choice to rob the cradle of Mushy-Face McHolmes.
Spending the day in L.A. was so fantastic! My body was peppered with goose bumps the entire time. Mostly at the thought of having a close encounter of the celebrity kind (Unfortunately, however, we did not see a single celeb…not even a double D-list star like Anna Faris), but also because I think L.A. is going to be my next life pit-stop after my Sandy Eggo coach turns into a pumpkin.
The greatest part of going to L.A. was visiting the Kodak Theater (for those of you who don’t know what that is, the Kodak Theater has been the casa of the Academy Awards for the past 7 years). It was magnificent. The entire time I was there, I was fighting back the urge to either burst into tears or defecate my pants, like an overly enthused, pants-wearing monkey. During the tour, I sat in the front row, 4th chair from the right (if you’re facing the stage) and now, I so can not wait for Oscar night to see whose caboose is parked in my seat!
Starry eyed sigh. No matter how many times I brush my teeth, I can’t seem to get the taste of Oscar ambrosia out of my mouth. Mmm minty fresh pipedreams.
Monday, December 22, 2008
Christmas Eve Eve Eve
I can’t believe it’s almost Christmas! It really does not feel like it. I have been pretty devoid of Christmas spirit this year…scroogetastic. I guess that’s mostly because being in a warmer climate, I have been in denial that it is in fact winter and Christmas time. I mean, San Diego has definitely decked its halls with plenty of fuh-la-la, but it just never sank in for me. Plus, I’ve been stressed out.
So yes yes, instead of going back to Beantown for Christmas, my family is coming to visit me in San Diego! They arrive around 7:30 PM west coast time on Christmas day. I am just as pleased as holiday spiked punch that they are making the trip out. I really wasn’t looking forward to having another family-free Christmas like last year.
I mean, don’t get me wrong, celebrating Christmas in Prague last year was definitely beyond fantastic and an entirely unforgettable experience (nothing says holiday cheer like a Christmas Eve ghost tour regaling tales of a gentile-slaying, claymation golem), but ya just gotta be with your family on Christmas…it’s a Yule rule.
So yeah, 3 more days! Can’t even wait!
P.S.
Here is my preemptive new year’s resolution: achieve electrolightenment and become a practitioner of verbal eloquence, not diarrhea.
Just told the cashier at Food 4 Less that he’s probably schizophrenic.
Of course, out of context that sounds a lot more abrasive than it actually was. He laughed (albeit awkwardly) after I said it!
But still, I shouldn’t be handing out DSM diagnoses in jest to strangers. Especially around the holidays.
No one likes a stocking full of bipolar disorder or a gift card to OCD.
http://www.nbc.com/Saturday_Night_Live/video/clips/twas-the-night-monologue/866361/
…Why John Malkovich is amazing.
So yes yes, instead of going back to Beantown for Christmas, my family is coming to visit me in San Diego! They arrive around 7:30 PM west coast time on Christmas day. I am just as pleased as holiday spiked punch that they are making the trip out. I really wasn’t looking forward to having another family-free Christmas like last year.
I mean, don’t get me wrong, celebrating Christmas in Prague last year was definitely beyond fantastic and an entirely unforgettable experience (nothing says holiday cheer like a Christmas Eve ghost tour regaling tales of a gentile-slaying, claymation golem), but ya just gotta be with your family on Christmas…it’s a Yule rule.
So yeah, 3 more days! Can’t even wait!
P.S.
Here is my preemptive new year’s resolution: achieve electrolightenment and become a practitioner of verbal eloquence, not diarrhea.
Just told the cashier at Food 4 Less that he’s probably schizophrenic.
Of course, out of context that sounds a lot more abrasive than it actually was. He laughed (albeit awkwardly) after I said it!
But still, I shouldn’t be handing out DSM diagnoses in jest to strangers. Especially around the holidays.
No one likes a stocking full of bipolar disorder or a gift card to OCD.
http://www.nbc.com/Saturday_Night_Live/video/clips/twas-the-night-monologue/866361/
…Why John Malkovich is amazing.
Saturday, December 20, 2008
Long post...
This past week was uberly un-fun.
I spent it darting all over town jumping through a series of irritating pre-hire hoops for the navy job. All of which were the very same pre-hire hoops that I had previously jumped through for the first job that the navy hired me for, which they then snatched away when I no longer maintained my status as a student. Mind you, all of the other persons hired for said job were undergraduate students…but that’s another can of worms for another time.
As frustrating as it’s been though, there is no point in gnashing my teeth about it. Because when the navy says, “Jump!”, the only acceptable response is, “How high, Navy?” then bend over.
I will gnash my teeth about this, however. On Tuesday, after I rode a bus for an hour and a half to get to the navy’s HR office just to put my John Hancock on two lousy pieces of paper, I was informed that it is likely that my pay is going to be docked by $2.50.
$13.70 - $2.50 = salary castration.
And let’s not forget about the 3 hour round-trip commute to the child development center where I am supposed to be working. That is definitely the lip stick on this fantastic job offer.
Just keep swimming, just keep swimming…
I won’t actually be able to start this navy job until January 15th, however. So for the meantime, I posted an ad on Craig’s List marketing my babysitting/tutoring services.
Last Friday, I received a response from a very progressive, libertarian mom named Anna, who has two foster children - a girl and a boy, ages 3 and 8 months.
I met the kids on Sunday and then spent a couple more afternoons sitting for them during the week while Anna ran errands and got housework done. All in all, the kids are both very cute and reasonably well-behaved.
On Thirsty Thursday, Anna wanted me for an evening babysitting gig, which would necessitate me spending the night at her house. The reason being that while she said she most likely wouldn’t stay out past midnight, she wouldn’t feel comfortable with me taking the bus home at that late hour should something happen to me.
Now, I wouldn’t say that I was exactly keen on the idea of spending the night at a relative stranger’s house, but I was reasonably cool with it. That was, however, until Anna revealed that she was not reasonably cool with the idea of compensating me for the inconvenience of the overnight.
But of course, I know I’m being overly avaricious here. It’s totally acceptable to stiff the babysitter. Probably shouldn’t tip waitresses either.
I didn’t want to leave her in the lurch though, so I reluctantly agreed to do the freebie overnight. But for the future, I said if she wasn’t willing to shell out the dough, then I wasn’t willing to do any more late night sitting.
So la la la, the evening hours passed without a hitch. Played some games, watched The Jungle Book, then I tucked the kids soundly into bed.
Oh side note: as she’s running out the door, Anna informs me that the little girl was going to be sharing a bed with me. Umm…
Today’s soup is cream of questionable sleeping arrangements.
I spent it darting all over town jumping through a series of irritating pre-hire hoops for the navy job. All of which were the very same pre-hire hoops that I had previously jumped through for the first job that the navy hired me for, which they then snatched away when I no longer maintained my status as a student. Mind you, all of the other persons hired for said job were undergraduate students…but that’s another can of worms for another time.
As frustrating as it’s been though, there is no point in gnashing my teeth about it. Because when the navy says, “Jump!”, the only acceptable response is, “How high, Navy?” then bend over.
I will gnash my teeth about this, however. On Tuesday, after I rode a bus for an hour and a half to get to the navy’s HR office just to put my John Hancock on two lousy pieces of paper, I was informed that it is likely that my pay is going to be docked by $2.50.
$13.70 - $2.50 = salary castration.
And let’s not forget about the 3 hour round-trip commute to the child development center where I am supposed to be working. That is definitely the lip stick on this fantastic job offer.
Just keep swimming, just keep swimming…
I won’t actually be able to start this navy job until January 15th, however. So for the meantime, I posted an ad on Craig’s List marketing my babysitting/tutoring services.
Last Friday, I received a response from a very progressive, libertarian mom named Anna, who has two foster children - a girl and a boy, ages 3 and 8 months.
I met the kids on Sunday and then spent a couple more afternoons sitting for them during the week while Anna ran errands and got housework done. All in all, the kids are both very cute and reasonably well-behaved.
On Thirsty Thursday, Anna wanted me for an evening babysitting gig, which would necessitate me spending the night at her house. The reason being that while she said she most likely wouldn’t stay out past midnight, she wouldn’t feel comfortable with me taking the bus home at that late hour should something happen to me.
Now, I wouldn’t say that I was exactly keen on the idea of spending the night at a relative stranger’s house, but I was reasonably cool with it. That was, however, until Anna revealed that she was not reasonably cool with the idea of compensating me for the inconvenience of the overnight.
But of course, I know I’m being overly avaricious here. It’s totally acceptable to stiff the babysitter. Probably shouldn’t tip waitresses either.
I didn’t want to leave her in the lurch though, so I reluctantly agreed to do the freebie overnight. But for the future, I said if she wasn’t willing to shell out the dough, then I wasn’t willing to do any more late night sitting.
So la la la, the evening hours passed without a hitch. Played some games, watched The Jungle Book, then I tucked the kids soundly into bed.
Oh side note: as she’s running out the door, Anna informs me that the little girl was going to be sharing a bed with me. Umm…
Today’s soup is cream of questionable sleeping arrangements.
So yeah...
The evening hours slowly turned into wee morning hours and there was still no sign of Mom-of-the-year. Fantastic.
I love being kept up all night by the hourly cries of a hungry baby and the copious “I want my mommy now!” outbursts of a three year old and not being paid for it.
It wasn’t until 5 frick-on-a-stick AM that Anna finally returned home and I got to go to bed.
Twenty minutes later, however, just as I was dozing off, I was awoken by the sound of a car pulling into the driveway.
Then, the front door opened and I could hear the voices of two men, growing in volume as they approached the door to the room where I was sleeping.
Then, the voices hushed and I heard the door creak open as a shadowy figure entered the room and made like he was going to get into bed with me.
“Ummmm…The babysitter is sleeping in here!” I hollered at him.
“Ohh…uhhh…sorry! My bad.” stammered the shadowy figure as he hastily retreated from the room.
Under normal circumstances, I probably would have freaked out a lot more about this, but when I first met Anna, she explained to me that she has a lot of twenty-something male friends, many of whom are recovering drug addicts and aspiring rap artists, who frequently crash in her spare bedroom. And who doesn’t love a slumber party with a VIP guest list like that?
But yeah, after this babysitting adventure, I don’t think I’ll be doing any more over-night shifts for Miss Anna Banana. I’d like to steer myself clear of any future, accidental spooning sessions with recovering druggernauts.
Ok. Enough tomfoolery. Here’s a good bit of news for ya…
Stacey just started seeing this loveable hostel manager named Iain! It’s all still very new, the relationship like just popped out of the womb, but I can just tell that it’s going to be lovely. Seeing them together is like watching a Tom Hanks, Meg Ryan movie, chock-full of that A-list, adorable, movie magic chemistry.
And he is just so sweet to her. Chew on this sucrose-coated, chocolate-dipped example…
Text from Iain to Stacey after their first official date: You are kick ass. You make me a happy man.
How cute is that? I am officially J to the EALOUS.
Friday, December 12, 2008
Golden Globe Noms!
The Golden Globe noms are out! It’s officially awards season, baby!
Now, I am not a sports fan by any means. Well, except for hockey. Gotta say that I do enjoy me the elegant brutality of big, burly men gliding gracefully with Kwan-like poise one minute, and then smashing their opponents’ faces into glass walls the next, oh yeah.
But, to make a sports related comparison illustrating my zeal for film awards, the Golden Globes are my World Series and the Academy Awards are my Super Bowl.
I am pathetically out of shape for this year’s awards season, however. I haven’t been to the movies in a dog‘s age! (Seeing Four Christmases over Thanksgiving totally does not count since the experience was more like staring at a pile of garbage for an hour and a half than watching an actual movie.)
My top 6 list of must-see movies for the '08/'09 season are…
1. Revolutionary Road
2. Burn After Reading
3. Happy-Go-Lucky
4. The Reader
5. In Bruges
And…
6. Slumdog Millionaire
Last year, I had to miss both the Globes and the Oscars while I was teaching in France due to a television deficiency, which was a major bummer. So this year, my cup runneth over with excitement about the awards shows!
Especially since my Leo scored another best actor nomination. This time it’s for his role as Frank Wheeler in Revolutionary Road. Can't say that I've seen the film yet (it doesn't come out until December 26th), but I have a feeling in my bones that ‘09 is going to be Leo’s year. Cross those phalanges, people, and cross ‘em good!
Leo would have had a really good shot at nabbing himself a pair of book ends last year for The Departed and Blood Diamond if it hadn’t have been for Forrest Whitaker’s freakishly amazing performance in The Last King of Scotland. Damn you, Mr. Whitaker. Damn you.
If you haven’t yet seen The Last King of Scotland, I implore you to immediately report to the nearest Blockbuster and rent it. Forrest’s portrayal of Idi Amin is absolutely, terrifyingly ferocious, but in the daaamn, give this guy major props kinda way. Plus, James McAvoy, who has the dreamiest bedroom eyes on the planet, is in it.
Luckily, however, Mr. Whitaker will be spending this year’s award season on the bench. Plus, Heath Ledger’s Joker nom is in the best supporting actor category, so both his and Leo’s talents can be justly awarded.
Go team DiCaprio!
Now, I am not a sports fan by any means. Well, except for hockey. Gotta say that I do enjoy me the elegant brutality of big, burly men gliding gracefully with Kwan-like poise one minute, and then smashing their opponents’ faces into glass walls the next, oh yeah.
But, to make a sports related comparison illustrating my zeal for film awards, the Golden Globes are my World Series and the Academy Awards are my Super Bowl.
I am pathetically out of shape for this year’s awards season, however. I haven’t been to the movies in a dog‘s age! (Seeing Four Christmases over Thanksgiving totally does not count since the experience was more like staring at a pile of garbage for an hour and a half than watching an actual movie.)
My top 6 list of must-see movies for the '08/'09 season are…
1. Revolutionary Road
2. Burn After Reading
3. Happy-Go-Lucky
4. The Reader
5. In Bruges
And…
6. Slumdog Millionaire
Last year, I had to miss both the Globes and the Oscars while I was teaching in France due to a television deficiency, which was a major bummer. So this year, my cup runneth over with excitement about the awards shows!
Especially since my Leo scored another best actor nomination. This time it’s for his role as Frank Wheeler in Revolutionary Road. Can't say that I've seen the film yet (it doesn't come out until December 26th), but I have a feeling in my bones that ‘09 is going to be Leo’s year. Cross those phalanges, people, and cross ‘em good!
Leo would have had a really good shot at nabbing himself a pair of book ends last year for The Departed and Blood Diamond if it hadn’t have been for Forrest Whitaker’s freakishly amazing performance in The Last King of Scotland. Damn you, Mr. Whitaker. Damn you.
If you haven’t yet seen The Last King of Scotland, I implore you to immediately report to the nearest Blockbuster and rent it. Forrest’s portrayal of Idi Amin is absolutely, terrifyingly ferocious, but in the daaamn, give this guy major props kinda way. Plus, James McAvoy, who has the dreamiest bedroom eyes on the planet, is in it.
Luckily, however, Mr. Whitaker will be spending this year’s award season on the bench. Plus, Heath Ledger’s Joker nom is in the best supporting actor category, so both his and Leo’s talents can be justly awarded.
Go team DiCaprio!
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