Friday, July 27, 2007
Question.
I'd like a propose a question to my readership. Robert Downey Jr: Down with the swirl?
Please take this question seriously. I see him as the sort of, I dunno, nearly homosexual, heart of gold, bipolar coke-head I could really see myself with. I'm about as white a woman as you'll ever meet, in every way other than the fact that by some accident my skin is of a burnished gold only otherwise seen on statues of Mayan goddesses. Will this stand in the way between me and RDJ?
Please take this question seriously. I see him as the sort of, I dunno, nearly homosexual, heart of gold, bipolar coke-head I could really see myself with. I'm about as white a woman as you'll ever meet, in every way other than the fact that by some accident my skin is of a burnished gold only otherwise seen on statues of Mayan goddesses. Will this stand in the way between me and RDJ?
John Beck FanFic
Please use this blog as a sort of HQ for all your John Beck fanfic.
Okay I'll start.
I'd like to see JB dating a surly black woman in a wheelchair. I know he's married, but I don't care. This is how I see it. JB and SBW see each other across a crowded buffet hall, he's got cheesecake in one hand, and cheese bugles in the other. She's shouting obscenities at no one in particular. He pushes his women and children aside. JB and SBW remain lovers for years, in a relationship not unlike that of the late Graham Greene and his mistress Yvonne Cloetta.
Now it is your turn.
Okay I'll start.
I'd like to see JB dating a surly black woman in a wheelchair. I know he's married, but I don't care. This is how I see it. JB and SBW see each other across a crowded buffet hall, he's got cheesecake in one hand, and cheese bugles in the other. She's shouting obscenities at no one in particular. He pushes his women and children aside. JB and SBW remain lovers for years, in a relationship not unlike that of the late Graham Greene and his mistress Yvonne Cloetta.
Now it is your turn.
Thursday, July 26, 2007
Tiny Women
After work today, I was walking in my neighborhood. There was a cute girl in front of me, maybe about my age. She was smallish and wearing a tiny t-shirt and shorts smaller than most of my underwear. She was no great beauty, but pretty enough. Guys were making lewd comments to her, as they do, and I could see her profile as she walked along, weirdly acknowledging them (I'm a cold-hearted re-buffer). We were both ducking into Marshall's on 125th and as we are going up the elevator, she is sort of crunched against the side of the elevator stairs.
All of a sudden, I felt so bad for her. This small girl wearing small clothes trying to take up as little space as possible. The whole scene was just so desperate: her in her tiny shorts as if she has to cull from the bottom of the ocean of men to get noticed. It made me glad to be more substantial than her, and I felt myself suddenly putting my hands on my hips to take up more room. I felt glad too to be wearing a sort of grantastic skirt and loose shirt, and not endlessly in pursuit of a small life, in which all that could be said of me was that I took up as little room as possible.
All of a sudden, I felt so bad for her. This small girl wearing small clothes trying to take up as little space as possible. The whole scene was just so desperate: her in her tiny shorts as if she has to cull from the bottom of the ocean of men to get noticed. It made me glad to be more substantial than her, and I felt myself suddenly putting my hands on my hips to take up more room. I felt glad too to be wearing a sort of grantastic skirt and loose shirt, and not endlessly in pursuit of a small life, in which all that could be said of me was that I took up as little room as possible.
Company BBQ
My company had a BBQ today. Why bitches go down hovering and not eat?! I was eating BY MYSELF. God I hate women that are timid around food. I mean why you messing around? Eating is a competition and don't get into the kitchen if you can't handle the heat, otay? And if you aren't going to eat, get the hell out of my way. I don't want a bunch of Lindsay Lohan Melissa Joan Olsens in between me and a plate of brownies.
And then there is that guy. I am standing behind this man wearing a long Hawaiian shirt with a soul patch while he carefully lines his hot dog with pickles for like five minutes. That is five minutes I don't want to be waiting, poindexter. I am not your girlfriend, we are not "making love," and I am not underneath you waiting to die while you ask me, "am i hurting you?" while you thrust away in your socks and Birkenstocks. Fuck you and get the hell out of my way! I want pickles on this veggie dog that is kinda gross and doesn't even bear a passing resemblance to meat. And the whole while they are playing Bonnie Rait. I am waiting for pickles listening to "i can't make you love me." That is the song that turns an innocent trip to the grocery store for milk into a day marked by me ending up sobbing on the tile floor in the middle of the dairy section questioning my will to live while clutching white bread to my breast. Why the fuck are they playing this at a BBQ whose ostensible goal has more to do with corporate bonding than mass suicide? Will someone tell me?!
And then there is that guy. I am standing behind this man wearing a long Hawaiian shirt with a soul patch while he carefully lines his hot dog with pickles for like five minutes. That is five minutes I don't want to be waiting, poindexter. I am not your girlfriend, we are not "making love," and I am not underneath you waiting to die while you ask me, "am i hurting you?" while you thrust away in your socks and Birkenstocks. Fuck you and get the hell out of my way! I want pickles on this veggie dog that is kinda gross and doesn't even bear a passing resemblance to meat. And the whole while they are playing Bonnie Rait. I am waiting for pickles listening to "i can't make you love me." That is the song that turns an innocent trip to the grocery store for milk into a day marked by me ending up sobbing on the tile floor in the middle of the dairy section questioning my will to live while clutching white bread to my breast. Why the fuck are they playing this at a BBQ whose ostensible goal has more to do with corporate bonding than mass suicide? Will someone tell me?!
I've been inspired
My friend Laura has a fabulous blog. And it occured to me that I should blog more and blog less about makeup and more about the everyday. Starting NOW. OW!
Thursday, July 12, 2007
Maybelline Blush
Dream Mousse Blush: this stuff is really, really amazing. Even on my dark skin, its pigment rich forumla shows up, and just like it says on the commercial, it is air light, and it seems to be full of silicone, because it just glides on. I got in Pink Frosting, which is great if you want to create that sort of Barbie-turns-real-girl look. You get a lot for the price (I use very little to get a nice flush going) and it comes in a cute, round glass container. Definite bargain!
