or, 90% bad luck.
I wish I weren’t so fragile emotionally. What is with that anyway? It’s frustrating having a love hate relationship with yourself. That sort of thing should be reserved for Italian food and certain boys. One minute you’re ice skating figure eights and the next you’re treading water in a lake, awaiting rescue and a raging case of hypothermia. Maybe it’s an adolescent thing, but maybe it’s not. I think when you’re like, dramatically one thing or another in an important respect, you’re doomed to be one-way-or-another in a lot of other respects. Do you have ANY idea what I mean by that? And why is it that we demand perfection others because we can’t obtain it ourselves? In fact, we expect others to not only accept our flaws but embrace them, because as ourselves, the role we’re forced into playing, are incapable of that? I don’t want to be like that, but I think I am.
I’ve been having these dreams that involve me waking up and hearing someone’s voice- like my mom, dad, stepmom, my friends or my brother’s friends. Then I think, why would they be here? I don’t want them to be outside my door. So I won’t get up because I want them to think I’m asleep and go away. Of course, later, I find out they were never there.
I admit that I listen to 107.7 the end a good 3-5 hours a day… I know, I know, 107.7, radio blehebleh. I like it. ANYWAY… have you heard that Wendy’s commercial advertising their ‘Baconator’ burger? And they’re whole concept of ‘meatitarian’– a person who loves meat and hates vegetables? At one point, Wendy (god I hate her voice…) says ‘and theres no lettuce on it! so you don’t have to bother picking it off!’. I was blessed to see the TV commercial as well. A nice couple is eating at Wendy’s on a date and the woman says, ‘Do you want to try a bite of my salad?’ and the guy replies something like, ‘No, I don’t eat salad, I’m a meatitarian blahblah’. This guy has a way more detailed post about it, if you care.
There’s also an interesting commercial for Gain laundry detergent where a white couple walks into their hotel room on the middle-aged Hispanic housekeeper sleeping in their bed! An awkward moment ensues and the housekeeper promptly scurries off silently. Apparently the bedding was so fresh that she just couldn’t resist.
By Susan Fromberg Schaeffer is an excellent book, and I highly recommend it. The book, published in 1993, is written in the form of a fictional memoir featuring two women, Ivy and Anna. It frequently, and somewhat inconveniently bounces between past and present. Ivy was kidnapped at a young age by her real father and grew up in a small shrimp/coconut obsessed village in India. I enjoyed the stories about Ivy’s childhood much more than Anna’s. Anna’s (naturally) rags-to-riches past, as an infamous silent film star has left her very wealthy and bitter. Interestingly, a disclaimer states ‘This is a work of fiction… Although the character of Anna Asta may resemble Greta Garbo, this work is not intended to be an accurate portrayal of the life of Greta Garbo blahblah…’ I like books about the rich/famous/beautiful/inevitably unhappy just as much as the next chick, but that’s not really why I liked this book. Honestly, I liked it because it took me so long to read. I was very sad to finish it. It’s like Memoirs of a Geisha, except not quite as metaphorical or foreign. The beginning is a little confusing and you might want to give up on it, but don’t. Anyway, let me know if you like it.