Why is there always a haunting or a demonic possession in a state like Connecticut, or Tennessee? Even Long Island has seen it's share of psycho happenings with the Amityville Horror. How come there's never a crazy supernatural experience in a place like Arizona?
Maybe it's the way the eastern states are typecast?
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Friday, March 13, 2009
What's Worse...
...than insomnia? Trying to find a way to alleviate the misery of being awake at 2:30 in the morning and having to wake up at 6.
For the past few weeks, on and off, I've been having bouts of acute insomnia. It's stupid hard for me to fall asleep and then remain that way. So I foolishly look for things to do while the rest of my house is silent and my dog snores through the walls.
Last night was one such night. I thought I would watch '27 Dresses' thinking it would serve as a sleep aid, and I'd fall right to sleep before feeling like I should blow my brains out from nausea typically associated with chick flicks and Katherine Heigl's snaggletoothiness. Gross.
Alas, sleep never came. I watched the. entire. thing.
I think I would have felt less worse if I just stared at the ceiling. I understand that some movies are meant to be an escape from the grim reality we all trek through on a daily basis. On the other hand, there are shockingly realistic movies where the characters don't fall into one extreme over another. '27 Dresses' was not one such example.
Nothing against RomComs. Well, wait. For those who know me, I have everything against RomComs, and this one is no different. Seeing as how this movie is predictable from its 4-line synopsis, I wonder what they, as in the producers, are trying to peddle to us, as in the ambushed viewership who by now should know a lot better than to see this shit.
This movie had the obligatory Problem, and the female characters: RudeYetDependableBFF, TheBitch, IdealisticMainCharacter - whole nine yards. But for some reason, females watching this movie can look at any of the trite characters and go, "I can relate to her. I believe in This and That, and we think the same," blah blah blah. It's almost sad that girls are so easily marketable. Recycle the same character with the same ideals and BOOM, new Chick Flick. But here's what we never see. We never see a guy talking to his boys, pointing to the main male lead and saying, "I'm so like him. I'm sensitive, and sexy, and considerate, and successful, and all of these other traits. I'm the PerfectMan."
There's no point in making a movie that's half-realistic and half-wtf. It's either all fantasy or something plausible enough that your mind can wrap around it. Who wants to escape into a two-hour jaunt where the girl is realistically pathetic and the sort of guy being portrayed doesn't exist? At least to that extent. I just want my movies really real or fantastical enough that it could only be related to something in my dreams. And something that won't couple my insomnia with bouts of nauseated depression.
For the past few weeks, on and off, I've been having bouts of acute insomnia. It's stupid hard for me to fall asleep and then remain that way. So I foolishly look for things to do while the rest of my house is silent and my dog snores through the walls.
Last night was one such night. I thought I would watch '27 Dresses' thinking it would serve as a sleep aid, and I'd fall right to sleep before feeling like I should blow my brains out from nausea typically associated with chick flicks and Katherine Heigl's snaggletoothiness. Gross.
Alas, sleep never came. I watched the. entire. thing.
I think I would have felt less worse if I just stared at the ceiling. I understand that some movies are meant to be an escape from the grim reality we all trek through on a daily basis. On the other hand, there are shockingly realistic movies where the characters don't fall into one extreme over another. '27 Dresses' was not one such example.
Nothing against RomComs. Well, wait. For those who know me, I have everything against RomComs, and this one is no different. Seeing as how this movie is predictable from its 4-line synopsis, I wonder what they, as in the producers, are trying to peddle to us, as in the ambushed viewership who by now should know a lot better than to see this shit.
This movie had the obligatory Problem, and the female characters: RudeYetDependableBFF, TheBitch, IdealisticMainCharacter - whole nine yards. But for some reason, females watching this movie can look at any of the trite characters and go, "I can relate to her. I believe in This and That, and we think the same," blah blah blah. It's almost sad that girls are so easily marketable. Recycle the same character with the same ideals and BOOM, new Chick Flick. But here's what we never see. We never see a guy talking to his boys, pointing to the main male lead and saying, "I'm so like him. I'm sensitive, and sexy, and considerate, and successful, and all of these other traits. I'm the PerfectMan."
There's no point in making a movie that's half-realistic and half-wtf. It's either all fantasy or something plausible enough that your mind can wrap around it. Who wants to escape into a two-hour jaunt where the girl is realistically pathetic and the sort of guy being portrayed doesn't exist? At least to that extent. I just want my movies really real or fantastical enough that it could only be related to something in my dreams. And something that won't couple my insomnia with bouts of nauseated depression.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
I Really Don't Like...
...standing in lines. Maybe it's because I consider myself awkward, but the whole experience is just horrendously weird for me. This includes standing on line for the bus, for food, or on a line about to pay for shit I can't afford. The whole experience just bothers me and makes me neurotic. I think, Am I shifting my weight over and over? Are all of these people looking at me? What are they thinking?
And I know they're probably not thinking anything, except maybe for me to stop fidgeting. But I don't know what to do with myself. Do I cross my arms or leave them at my sides? Are these people judging my choice of toppings for my sandwich or my salad? Are they making jibes at me for eating salami? These uncomfortable thoughts could all be avoided if I didn't have to wait on line. I especially hate waiting on line when I'm the only one standing and everyone else is sitting. The place where I get my salad on Thursdays and Fridays has a massive seating area, and while I'm waiting for the salad maker dude to throw tomatoes into the bowl, I can imagine pairs of eyes burning into the back of me, where I can't see them. Or deflect them. Or make them go away. Look at someone else! I want to scream. Maybe they're really not looking at me, but I can never be certain. Just thinking about standing in that salad line again today is making me shudder.
You know what else makes me nervous? Paying for shit. I feel rushed by the people behind me when I'm fumbling with my change. I like to put my money in bill-order facing a certain way, but nooo, unless I'm the only one on that line, I don't have that opportunity, to gingerly put the remnants of my money away.
Does this make anyone else nervous, or is it just me? I have my money on it being just me.
Good heavens, am I really this neurotic? Yes, yes I am.
And I know they're probably not thinking anything, except maybe for me to stop fidgeting. But I don't know what to do with myself. Do I cross my arms or leave them at my sides? Are these people judging my choice of toppings for my sandwich or my salad? Are they making jibes at me for eating salami? These uncomfortable thoughts could all be avoided if I didn't have to wait on line. I especially hate waiting on line when I'm the only one standing and everyone else is sitting. The place where I get my salad on Thursdays and Fridays has a massive seating area, and while I'm waiting for the salad maker dude to throw tomatoes into the bowl, I can imagine pairs of eyes burning into the back of me, where I can't see them. Or deflect them. Or make them go away. Look at someone else! I want to scream. Maybe they're really not looking at me, but I can never be certain. Just thinking about standing in that salad line again today is making me shudder.
You know what else makes me nervous? Paying for shit. I feel rushed by the people behind me when I'm fumbling with my change. I like to put my money in bill-order facing a certain way, but nooo, unless I'm the only one on that line, I don't have that opportunity, to gingerly put the remnants of my money away.
Does this make anyone else nervous, or is it just me? I have my money on it being just me.
Good heavens, am I really this neurotic? Yes, yes I am.
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