Have I mentioned lately, or ever, how much I love Annie Lennox?
Well, I do.
This is WHY:
Oh, and this:
Oh, my, god. YES.
Sunday, December 26, 2010
Dammit, Hubble!
Ohmyfuckinggod, you guys.
So, I haven't blogged in a hundred years (or, a week and a half) but that's because I've been busy. Busy feeling lots of feelings. Busy writing Groupon deals about fish pedicures and cider houses and laser hair treatments. Many of these deals happen in Canada, which means I've also been busy plotting my escape to Montreal, where I will read novels and eat biscotti in quaint cafes and I'll parle francais and be so very, very chic. I've also been busy celebrating the birth of Santa, which means I've been drinking egg nog, baking cookies, and snuggling with the cats. Basically the things I normally do, except I get to listen to more Mariah Carey than usual.
ANYWAY. The point is ... THE POINT IS, my waitressing shift was cut short today due to the fact that it's post-Jesus' birthday party, and everyone is hibernating in their homes because they're hungover and just gained 10 more pounds from all of the food they've been shoveling in their fat faces. So, I pocketed the whopping ten dollars earned from my five customers, and I took my exhausted ass home.
I had been daydreaming at work about watching an old movie in bed, cozied up with Layla and wearing my favorite sweatpants. And that is exactly what happened, Rainbow groupies!
I just watched "The Way We Were" for the first time.
Oh. Holy. Crap.
Where do I begin? Obviously I already knew all about it, because of this "Sex and the City" episode. ("Oh GAWD, Alison is talking about 'Sex and the City' AGAIN? What kind of feminist IS SHE?" SHUT UP. It's my thing. I love it. Moving on.)
But how could I have known just how incredible Barbra Streisand was as Katie? She has big, big hair and is political and wants to save the world. She has embarrassing, loud, emotional outbursts at parties when people make stupid jokes. She has long, bright red nails and books scattered all over her apartment. And she is completely, batshit crazy in love with this dude named Hubble.
THIS guy:
Now, since I know you're all going to pull up Netflix to find this movie (when you're done reading this, of course, because you're not a jerk), you are in luck. Watch instantly. Observe how Barbra Streisand constantly looks at Robert Redford like she wants to take a big bite out of him. (Like right here.) I mean, of course she does. HE'S ROBERT FUCKING REDFORD. Did you see him? Let's take another look, shall we?
I love it. I love staring at Robert Redford's face and his annoyingly gorgeous blonde hair for an hour and 58 minutes. I love watching Barbra Streisand shriek, "Her husband is DEAD! DEAD! Did you tell the cripple jokes too? Is there anything that isn't a joke to you people?!" (and then throws back a martini while Hubble shuffles his newspaper, embarrassed). I love watching a movie where the couple doesn't end up happily ever after. ("Why did you bring me here? I mean, couldn't we have gone for a walk or sit on a bench somewhere?") Oh, Katie. I feel ya, girl.
Except, umm, you guys? Just cause your marriage failed because Hubble's sort of a philistine and Katie feels too many feelings, does that really mean Hubble just quits the idea of being a dad to their daughter Rachel? C'mon, you two. I think you can put the complicated feelings to the side for the kid's sake. At the end of the movie, when he's with his stupid looking new wife who can't hold a candle to Barbra Streisand's huge-ass hair and gorgeous cat eyes, he asks if Katie's new husband is a good father. Um, NOT GOOD ENOUGH, you gorgeous, shallow moron. You better be using the money from your stupid TV show for child support, cheater. Now go finish your fucking novel, Hubble. You can't ride on those good looks forevvah.
Okay! That's it! I feel better now.
Don't you?
Fine. NOW you do:
Okay, I think I have to stare at young Robert Redford some more.
I'll be sure to let you all know how it goes.
So, I haven't blogged in a hundred years (or, a week and a half) but that's because I've been busy. Busy feeling lots of feelings. Busy writing Groupon deals about fish pedicures and cider houses and laser hair treatments. Many of these deals happen in Canada, which means I've also been busy plotting my escape to Montreal, where I will read novels and eat biscotti in quaint cafes and I'll parle francais and be so very, very chic. I've also been busy celebrating the birth of Santa, which means I've been drinking egg nog, baking cookies, and snuggling with the cats. Basically the things I normally do, except I get to listen to more Mariah Carey than usual.
ANYWAY. The point is ... THE POINT IS, my waitressing shift was cut short today due to the fact that it's post-Jesus' birthday party, and everyone is hibernating in their homes because they're hungover and just gained 10 more pounds from all of the food they've been shoveling in their fat faces. So, I pocketed the whopping ten dollars earned from my five customers, and I took my exhausted ass home.
I had been daydreaming at work about watching an old movie in bed, cozied up with Layla and wearing my favorite sweatpants. And that is exactly what happened, Rainbow groupies!
I just watched "The Way We Were" for the first time.
Oh. Holy. Crap.
Where do I begin? Obviously I already knew all about it, because of this "Sex and the City" episode. ("Oh GAWD, Alison is talking about 'Sex and the City' AGAIN? What kind of feminist IS SHE?" SHUT UP. It's my thing. I love it. Moving on.)
 |
| Oh, Katie. |
But how could I have known just how incredible Barbra Streisand was as Katie? She has big, big hair and is political and wants to save the world. She has embarrassing, loud, emotional outbursts at parties when people make stupid jokes. She has long, bright red nails and books scattered all over her apartment. And she is completely, batshit crazy in love with this dude named Hubble.
THIS guy:
 |
| Hubble! |
Now, since I know you're all going to pull up Netflix to find this movie (when you're done reading this, of course, because you're not a jerk), you are in luck. Watch instantly. Observe how Barbra Streisand constantly looks at Robert Redford like she wants to take a big bite out of him. (Like right here.) I mean, of course she does. HE'S ROBERT FUCKING REDFORD. Did you see him? Let's take another look, shall we?
I love it. I love staring at Robert Redford's face and his annoyingly gorgeous blonde hair for an hour and 58 minutes. I love watching Barbra Streisand shriek, "Her husband is DEAD! DEAD! Did you tell the cripple jokes too? Is there anything that isn't a joke to you people?!" (and then throws back a martini while Hubble shuffles his newspaper, embarrassed). I love watching a movie where the couple doesn't end up happily ever after. ("Why did you bring me here? I mean, couldn't we have gone for a walk or sit on a bench somewhere?") Oh, Katie. I feel ya, girl.
Except, umm, you guys? Just cause your marriage failed because Hubble's sort of a philistine and Katie feels too many feelings, does that really mean Hubble just quits the idea of being a dad to their daughter Rachel? C'mon, you two. I think you can put the complicated feelings to the side for the kid's sake. At the end of the movie, when he's with his stupid looking new wife who can't hold a candle to Barbra Streisand's huge-ass hair and gorgeous cat eyes, he asks if Katie's new husband is a good father. Um, NOT GOOD ENOUGH, you gorgeous, shallow moron. You better be using the money from your stupid TV show for child support, cheater. Now go finish your fucking novel, Hubble. You can't ride on those good looks forevvah.
Okay! That's it! I feel better now.
Don't you?
Fine. NOW you do:
Okay, I think I have to stare at young Robert Redford some more.
I'll be sure to let you all know how it goes.
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Winter Winds, Winter Tunes
This is rather darling, wouldn't you agree?
And now that we're talking about winter, and love, and feelings or something:
And now that we're talking about winter, and love, and feelings or something:
Monday, December 13, 2010
Monday Mix Tapes: Deck the Halls and Stuff
By this time last year, the Rainbow Chronicles were exploding with Christmakahwanza fun. And it was fun, wasn't it, my dears? WASN'T IT?
This year? Nothing. I don't even think I've watched Christmas Vacation all the way through yet! In fact, I have not watched a single holiday movie yet. I am not filled with holiday cheer. I mean, I've had Christmas ales, and those were all delightful (particularly Revolution's Fistmas Ale), but I didn't think of Santa once as I was drinking them. NOT ONCE. I didn't even think of Herbie. And all he wants to be is a dentist!
It's time. And not just time to get some eggnog and a large bottle of Captain Morgan.
I'm ready. I feel it in my fingers. I feel it in my toes.
Now, let's get ready to have a Dappy Holidays.
So, I'm off to tear up our apartment looking for my Christmas cards, and then I can finally snuggle with the cats and read Holidays on Ice to them. Layla just put in a request for a reading of "Dinah, the Christmas Whore." I can't let her down.
This year? Nothing. I don't even think I've watched Christmas Vacation all the way through yet! In fact, I have not watched a single holiday movie yet. I am not filled with holiday cheer. I mean, I've had Christmas ales, and those were all delightful (particularly Revolution's Fistmas Ale), but I didn't think of Santa once as I was drinking them. NOT ONCE. I didn't even think of Herbie. And all he wants to be is a dentist!
It's time. And not just time to get some eggnog and a large bottle of Captain Morgan.
I'm ready. I feel it in my fingers. I feel it in my toes.
Now, let's get ready to have a Dappy Holidays.
So, I'm off to tear up our apartment looking for my Christmas cards, and then I can finally snuggle with the cats and read Holidays on Ice to them. Layla just put in a request for a reading of "Dinah, the Christmas Whore." I can't let her down.
Saturday, December 11, 2010
there’s a dinosaur in my vodka
at this time yesterday I was OK
but not, swilling my glass and feeling all my thoughts.
i had put on the little black dress,
my lacy tights kept catching
on my stupid belly ring
and there were two giant elephants
in the middle of the party.
believe it.
i did not.
we walked through that one exhibit
my hand safe on your arm
back in that time when i was drinking
white wine when all i really wanted
was a vodka.
what a time that was,
there, with the elephants and Sue
i’m like a kid at the fucking prom
wishing you’d just ask me to dance
checking out the girls’ party outfits
and the ties, oh the ties
mini cupcakes and quesadillas
we kept looking for the lions
no one got why it was so godammned important:
the lions!
i sat at a table alone while you had a smoke
feeling all my thoughts
white wine and vodka
and not enough soda.
i wanted to read everyone’s brains
cause then maybe i wouldn’t have
to feel like i was alone at the prom.
granted, a much, much hipper one
with a giant T-rex
but still, the awkwardness and the
teetering girls in heels
and just like at my prom,
white boys everywhere.
believe it.
i did not.
you are the opposite of my prom
and that is why i love you
even still, even still
if only we had found the lions,
maybe it all would have been different.
but not, swilling my glass and feeling all my thoughts.
i had put on the little black dress,
my lacy tights kept catching
on my stupid belly ring
and there were two giant elephants
in the middle of the party.
believe it.
i did not.
we walked through that one exhibit
my hand safe on your arm
back in that time when i was drinking
white wine when all i really wanted
was a vodka.
what a time that was,
there, with the elephants and Sue
i’m like a kid at the fucking prom
wishing you’d just ask me to dance
checking out the girls’ party outfits
and the ties, oh the ties
mini cupcakes and quesadillas
we kept looking for the lions
no one got why it was so godammned important:
the lions!
i sat at a table alone while you had a smoke
feeling all my thoughts
white wine and vodka
and not enough soda.
i wanted to read everyone’s brains
cause then maybe i wouldn’t have
to feel like i was alone at the prom.
granted, a much, much hipper one
with a giant T-rex
but still, the awkwardness and the
teetering girls in heels
and just like at my prom,
white boys everywhere.
believe it.
i did not.
you are the opposite of my prom
and that is why i love you
even still, even still
if only we had found the lions,
maybe it all would have been different.
Maybe Someday I Will
there are about ten thousand sorrys stuck in the back of my throat/they keep getting tripped up over my tongue/this fat, fucking source of everything that is wrong/cause i cant keep it all in, except all the wrong things/they spill out at the worst possible moment/unlike my sorrys that are stuck/stuck in the back of my throat with my love and my good intentions/spillsorrysticksorrysomewhere else/i couldn't bear to break it/instead i put it in the freezer/waited/waited until it fucking exploded.
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
Poetry Slam Tuesdays: You Fall Over My Day
you are sucha fool/ i haveta love you
you decide to give me a poem/ intent on it/ actually
you pull/ kiss me from 125th to 72nd street/ on
the east side/ no less
you are sucha fool/ you gonna give me/ the poet/
the poem
insistin on proletarian images/ we buy okra/
3 lbs for $1/ & a pair of 98 cent shoes
we kiss
we wrestle
you make sure at east 110 street/ we have cognac
no beer all day
you are sucha fool/ you fall over my day like
a wash of azure
you take my tongue outta my mouth/
make me say foolish things
you take my tongue outta my mouth/ lay it on yr skin
like the dew between my legs
on this the first day of silver balloons
& lil girl's braids undone
friendly savage skulls on bikes/ wish me good-day
you speak spanish like a german & ask puerto rican
market men on lexington if they are foreigners
oh you are sucha fool/ i cant help but love you
maybe it was something in the air
our memories
our first walk
our first...
yes/ alla that
where you poured wine down my throat in rooms
poets i dreamed abt seduced sound & made history/
you make me feel like a cheetah
a gazelle/ something fast & beautiful
you make me remember my animal sounds/
so while i am an antelope
ocelot & serpent speaking in tongues
my body loosens for/ you
you decide to give me the poem
you wet yr fingers/ lay it to my lips
that i might write some more abt you/
how you come into me
the way the blues jumps outta b.b.king/ how
david murray assaults a moon & takes her home/
like dyanne harvey invades the wind
oh you/ you are sucha fool/
you want me to write some more abt you
how you come into me like a rollercoaster in a
dip that swings
leaving me shattered/ glistening/ rich/ screeching
& fully clothed
you set me up to fall into yr dreams
like the sub-saharan animal i am/ in all this heat
wanting to be still
to be still with you
in the shadows
all those buildings
all those people/ celebrating/ sunlight & love/ you
you are sucha fool/ you spend all day piling up images
locations/ morsels of daydreams/ to give me a poem
just smile/ i'll get it
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