i’m dumping the chick flick

I saw “He’s Just Not That Into You” the other night and am left feeling completely bewildered. A feeling that continues to grow and turn into irritation the more I think about the film. It’s a feeling that I would hope many would share with me once they look past the pretty, Hollywood faces saturating the film and recognize that the movie is one giant contradiction after the other, starting with its genre and title.


As much as its marketing team may have tried to convince movie-goers otherwise, this movie is a chick flick through and through. This isn’t exactly a problem, except when the title of your movie is “He’s Just Not That Into You,” a name that lends itself to telling it to women as it is; basically the anti-chick flick. The reason chick flicks do so well is because women want to slip away into a fantastical life about a woman who in the end always seems to triumph and find that perfect guy. The premise of HJNTIY is that women need to stop believing all the messages they’re fed through countless hours of watching these types of movies. She needs to stop romanticize the idea of prince charming, wake up and realize that the douche bag that only calls her on the weekends is not actually her boyfriend. She needs to become aware of what reality is, namely: not a romantic comedy that ties up neatly in two hours.


A character from the movie specifically points out that women need to stop rationalizing that they’re life situation is the “exception” to what’s normal. In her character’s turning point, she comes to the revelation that those mysterious girls you hear about with the fairytale ending are the “exception,” not the “rules.” The rules being as simple as if you don’t hear from a guy, he’s not into you. Yet – and this is not exactly a spoiler alert – nearly every single of those women turn out to be the exception.


WTF? Isn’t that going back on your exact point? So the name of the god damned film is “He’s Just Not That Into You,” but… oh wait… turns out he is into you. Just what in the hell are these mixed messages telling us? I tell you what they tell us: this movie didn’t have the gall to reach the potential it had. No, people want to see happy endings, and that’s what the movie making business will provide its paying consumers. Whatever, that’s lame but I understand that it’s a business but please, don’t think that consumers are that stupid that we wouldn’t pick up on this total contradiction. We would right?… oh Jesus, I don’t know anymore – I mean look at how well “Paul Blart: Mall Cop” is doing. 

What is even more disconcerting to me is that other women will absolutely adore this movie because “Oh, it’s so cute!” or “OMG I totally know a girl like that.” etc. etc. Yes, it is easy to get distracted by the gobs of wonderful and pretty famous people in it, but can’t you see that this movie is backhandedly swapping at its exact intended market? Women are portrayed as needy and desperate, with their only concern to be how soon they can get married. The movie did have a set for the women’s jobs but did they ever even bother mentioning what they did? No because all the women did at work was talk about guys. Their lives centered on evaluating their self worth based purely on what some dude they went on one date thought. One character did not even bother to think for one second if she may actually be interested in someone, but was obsessing over whether or not he’s interested in her. Is he going to call me? What did he think of me? Shouldn’t the more accurate questions be: Do I want him to call me? Should I call him? What do I think of him? 

To me, the message intended behind HJNTIY (the “self-help” book) is that women need to stop making excuse for why they’re staying in a relationship. That sometimes people need a reality check every once in a while. That women need to stand up for what they want, and not lower their standards because they fear being alone. Basically, empower yourself and don’t pretend to be someone (or something) you’re not.


welcome back to my so-called life

I like to take this moment to recognize the cast of “My So-Called Life” reemergence back into the public eye. I’ve missed you all greatly.

Exhibit A: Wilson Cruz a.k.a the “Gay Guy”

First he wowed us as the lost, sexually confused teenager. Now, he can be found uttering the words “I just got hard” as part of Miss Drew Barrymore’s gay entourage in “He’s Just Not That Into You.”

Well done Rickie!


 Exhibit B: Tom Irwin a.k.a one of the only non-teenagers in So-Called.


No teenager likes their Dad just like no one likes lawyers. But I like anyone that has any kind of affiliation to Lost.

Bravo Tom!



Exhibit C: Claire Danes a.k.a. The Only Other Actor Whose Name You Recognize From The Show Besides Jared Leto

Well, she’s been in ongoing films but she was just in the news lately for getting engaged. No, not to Jared Leto (but you may know him as hearthrob Jordon Catalano). To the heaththrob from “Confessions of a Shopaholic.”

Other noteworthy accomplishment: She was able to get frisky with Steve Martin in “Shopgirl.”

Not too bad Angela, not too bad at all.


Looks like the cast will have lots to talk about at this year’s 15th reunion. On a side note: It’s been 15 years since “My So-Called Life???” Holy shit.

someone in the world is actually wearing this

momToday I saw someone wearing this ring. Well, it wasn’t actually that exact ring – in fact, it was worse. Try to imagine something, how do I say… “classed down.” It was gold all around (without the fancy design) and the bold letters M-O-M spelled out in pure bling (in this case bling = rhinestones).

I noticed this ring for the simple fact that I am immediately drawn to shiny and bright objects. I saw some blang on her finger and just assumed someone had “put a raang on it,” a rather obnoxious ring but still a wedding ring none the less. But then her hand shifted and I was able to read the ring. “MOM” it said as pure as Las Vegas lights. Mom!

Now realizing that I do not know my left from right when I am not able to hold up my hand and distinguish which one is the correct “L”, I realize that the piece of jewelry is not even on her wedding ring finger. Oh, there is no ring finger there. It kind of makes me sad. I quickly begin formulating this woman’s story in my head:

As a 50-something mom who still appears to be active and lives in the city, her kids became her life after a troublesome divorce with the man she met and fell in love with in college. They went there separate ways after having kids – he become absorbed in his work while she made her kids her life. Now, even more so, she focuses purely on her kids – the only things that she finds true joy in any more.

I imagine this ring was found in a J.C. Penny’s ad scattered on the kitchen table one morning and her little child thought to him or herself, “Ohhh, look it says ‘Mom'” and so he or she got it with saved up allowance money, or perhaps all her kids split it. They presented it to their mom on Christmas morning and her eyes welled up with tears of joy and she thought, “This is why I’m here. I was meant to raise and love these kids.”

Because, really, why the hell else would she be wearing such a hideous ring?

If I ever choose to reproduce I’d much rather receive some bling similar to Tracy Morgan’s #1 DAD necklace. Now that’s what I’m talking about. Blanged Out!

who is this trader joe? i’d like to meet him.


So. In case you haven’t heard, “these are hard times.” I’ve cut back on my spending my getting shit faced at my apartment before I go out, wearing my clothes inside out to get twice the bang for my buck, and grocery shopping for my lunches at work.


So instead of purchasing a mediocre sandwich from Subway or splurging on a step-above-mediocre panini from the place down the street, I’ve resorted to making my own mediocre sandwich in my office kitchen. Recessionista indeed! However, these mediocre sammies have led me to the Mecca of all bohemian struggling artists and intelligents – Trader Joe’s.


During a recent shopping trip, I regressed back to my days as a young Catholic school girl and began incessantly whispering about a pair of adorable men my eyes immediately focused on upon entering. As I continued my journey down the aisles, I literally had a moment out of Looney Tunes: you know the scene where the cartoon’s eyes bug out and their heart literally is beating out of their chest. Everywhere I looked I was falling in infatuation. God, as if I didn’t already love Trader Joe’s enough.


Each worker is essentially, a real life version of nerdy-heartthrob Seth Cohen from the O.C. A boy that is remarkably adorable with boyish charm up to here (hand reaching up to eye-level) that is completely clueless just how endearing he is. The boy that gets off on “weird” music and has no idea who Brody Jenner is. The boy who’s conversation can extend beyond the categories “sports,” “tv/movies” and “totally awesome college stories.” Dreamboats basically.


Now I am of course romanticizing all of this right now because, just as I did when I was a young school girl, all I could do in front of these minimumwage grocery store employees was gawk, avert my eyes when there was a chance they noticed me staring at them and then whisper about how “in love” I am. My guess is that all of these employees are working at TJ’s until they can finish school or be discovered as the next great band/artist/writer. I would also guess that a good portion of them are totally full of themselves and have a following of girls like me who swoon over the anti-frat type of guy. I mean I guess if they’re trying to convince others that they’re the greatest thing since David Bowie they’d have to believe it too. But… in the collection of workers there must be, has to be, a boy who is exactly as I described above. And we will find each other, fall in love and forever eat hummus and pita chips together.


Until then… I will just have to go every week and quietly lurk in the aisles looking for a mysterious can of salsa until that one special worker helps me. (Or until I have a restraining order slapped on me because man, that sounds creepy.)   

if your face was a dance floor, your eyebrows would be doing the worm

cad1These two children to the left look as though they might belong to the dreadful couple that named their child Adolf Hitler or possibly to the Mom who admitted she was incapable of loving her child. But no.

These two are the new face (or eyebrows) of Cadbury. Yes, as in the chocolate. Well I guess Cadbury always reminds me of those dalishchocolate eggs at Easter. And the idea to have an oversized bunny hopping around leaving eggs full of things for people to then rummage through did always freak me out a little. So… maybe it makes sense that these two Nazi-esque offspring sort of scare me, but in the pleasurable way that leaves me with chocolate in the end.

Now, if you know what’s good for you WATCH this ad:

thought of the day


Question: Who remembers Richard “Boner” Stabone from Growing Pains?

God I miss that show. Has any other show since then been daring enough to name a character Boner?????

Also, it had Leonardo DiCaprio. And Alan Thicke.

i love them



Ahead lies an outrageously obnoxious picture of how I celebrated the inauguration last night: Continue reading