Saturday, June 1, 2002
The Big Bore
Watched "The Bill Chill" on Bravo last night. We never saw it...it was one of those movies that Stan and I would make fun of back in the 80s when it came out--it was a movie we said we'd never see because it looked sappy and sentimental and yuppie and superficial. Well, I decided to watch it, just to see what it was like, to see if my perceptions have mellowed with age, to see if my initial assessment was miguided and harsh.
Am I glad I never rented this movie! It was worse than I could have imagined. Here's a synopsis if you never saw it: A bunch of white, middle class late 30-somethings too successful for their own good get together after a friend commits suicide. They play touch football outside at the host's country estate and have sex with eachother. The end. The moral? "We have lots of money, but we're still disillusioned."
I could've used a little sentiment...a little sappiness. I thought it'd at least be a tearjerker. The only tears it jerked was the ones that come from yawning. I can't believe this movie got so much attention.
It's good to know that my perceptions as a 20-something were right-on and that I haven't mellowed with age.
Posted by Ann on 06/01/02@09:43 PM CST ..::Link::..
It looks too heavy to fly
I'm having way too much fun designing new CafePress stuff for my store. This is my latest--a flying celtic dingbat. And I'm working on more...
Posted by Ann on 06/01/02@10:05 AM CST ..::Link::..
I dreamt I was watching the Kinks* in concert. It was hard to say what era Kinks it was. It was also hard to say how I was watching it...on TV? Live? Most baffling.
I woke up and when I went back to sleep I had a series of short nightmares that caused me to shout out in my sleep and annoy Stan. I forgot exactly what they were about.
*Trivia Time: I was a huge Kinks fan at the end of high school and college. Saw them three times in concert between 1980 and 1983.
Posted by Ann on 06/01/02@08:27 AM CST ..::Link::..
Friday, May 31, 2002
Someone take my idea, please*
A Friday Five/Tuesday Twosome/Monday Monologue/whatever kinda thing:
Jeoparody. Instead of having these questions that you ANSWER, the host of this blog game will have an ANSWER and everyone else will have to make up their own QUESTIONS in response to it!
Remember to phrase your answer in the form of a question!
*just gimme credit, dammit.
Posted by Ann on 05/31/02@09:43 AM CST ..::Link::..
Thursday, May 30, 2002
DREAMs-Three Weird Stoner Brothers
First, a real life scenario to set the stage. Last night (IRL) Tim was over and it was getting late (for him and Stan who both had to go to work early the next day) but he was out of allergy medicine, but because it was late he didn't want to stop at a store to buy some, so Stan gave him some Benedryl. I said that we give Benedryl to lots of people, that we live in the Benedryl House--like Crack House. OK, I guess one had to have been there.
Now the dream:
I was with Stan and his sister "J". She took us to some house where these hippie intellectual types were living. They had some natural herb medicine for allergies and she and Stan both needed some. J was with a boyfriend, who I think was named Lee (made up for the dream). There were other people that came with us, namely many relatives from Stan's adopted mom's side of the family (J is a biological half sister). There were about three men who lived in this house, they all looked like they could be brothers...maybe late 40s, mid-50s in age. They were smoking pot. They were weird looking, like Stephen King crossed with Leonard Nimoy (weird). The house was older, like a bungalow, fairly spacious with wood trim. They had tons of houseplants, I remember all sorts of Coleuses and Wandering Jews in all sorts of patterns I'd never seen before. I wanted to get clippings from them, but the guys seemed rather stuck up toward me. I remember one of the guys was smoking a HUGE bong...it was like three feet long and maybe five inches in diameter. Then the brother's wives came home. I can't remember what happened, but something made Stan's adopted mom's side of the family angry, so they all left. I noticed that they were carrying packages, like gifts, and they were taking them with them, like they were originally going to give these gifts to these brothers but something made them so mad that they decided not to. The house cleared out of guests, and the only people left were me, J, and Lee, plus the brothers and their wives.
Then I dreamt that I had an infant baby. I had to go to the store, but I didn't have an infant car seat, but I didn't want to leave the infant alone at home. I didn't know what to do with the darn thing. I also didn't have a bed for it...I didn't know where it would sleep. I thought I could make a bed for it out of of a laundry basket. I actually can't remember whether I dreamt this before the first dream, or after it.
Posted by Ann on 05/30/02@09:48 AM CST ..::Link::..
Wednesday, May 29, 2002
Brunhilde...and other stories
You know what grabs my groin? People lumping you in with a bunch of other people just because they *think* you're their friends or acquaintances. Por ejemplo...Back in Jr. High, there was one girl in PE class, Girl M, that never showered afterward, even though every one was required to shower unless they had a doctor's excuse or it was during their period, in which case they could take a half shower. I could care less...it was her body...her stink. Personally, I never noticed much stink emanating from young teenage girls anyway, but I guess the shower thing is good practice for adult life. You did have to wonder about those school showers and using that soap inside a pantyhose leg that everyone else used...how clean can you get? Pigs probably get cleaner rolling in mud. I was friends with one girl, Girl D, who was friends with another girl, Girl K. Girl K and I sort of mutually detested eachother. Lemme describe Girl K...she was right out of central casting for a Wagner opera Diva...fat lady singing and all that, plus her views were very nationalistic, right wing, born again...you get the idea. I guess she thought I was a bad seed or something (oh such a switch from 6th grade when these [expletive deleted]s I used to hang around with dumped me because they said I was goody-goody...yet I digress). Anyway, Girl K didn't like the fact that Girl M didn't shower. I don't know why she cared...it's not her body, but then again you know how many of those right wing religious types like to control other women's bodies. So Girl K told the gym teacher that Girl M skips showers. Girl M got in trouble, and for some reason she found it was Girl K who tattled, but because I was friends with Girl D who was friends with both me and Girl K, naturally, I was part of the "group" who tattled on her, whereas I didn't even have any idea what was going on, let alone that Girl K told the teacher, let alone that Girl M was skipping all her showers! Girl M was sort of a tough turd of a person, so naturally I was fearing for my life because she'd probably rather tangle with me, a petite little thing, than tangle with Brunhilde. Nothing came of it other than dirty looks, fortunately. But still. Hey, man, I was Switzerland, but everyone thought I was Mussolini.
OK, so about the (I want to put one of Ann's Creative Vulgarities here, but it's probably not best because it's very crude...just use your imagination...think of the worst thing you can call a woman and put the ending "-let" (like piglet) on it, and you got the picture) [expletive deleted]s that I knew in 6th grade...out of the blue they wrote me a note deciding to "elimate me" (translated as eliminate me/elevate me in their dumb Freudian slip spelling...or so a psychologist friend of my mom translated it to mean) from their group because I was too "goody goody." Because I got good grades? That made me goody goody? Because I was smart? Because I wasn't spoiled ass[expletive deleted]s like they were? Did they even know me? Did they even know that I detested our teacher? If I was a goody-goody, wouldn't I have sucked up to her? WTF were they even talking about. I can look back on it now and know that they were a bunch of suburban *u**-ups and they're probably working on their 4th marriages by now and they probably look like hell with wrinkles one could lose a dime in. But it makes you think...because someone says something about someone...they're goody goody...they're a bad seed...they're really nice...they're a crook...they're a wife beater...they're generous...they're this...they're that...why do you take it at face value? I obviously have aspects of my personality that are both and neither goody goody and bad seed. It all depends on who you are...I was a goody goody to the [expletive deleted]s, I was a bad seed to Girl K/Brunhilde. Which is the truth? Probably neither.
So there you have it. Second hand information about a third party probably has nothing to do with the truth.
And just because for some reason your name is associated with someone, doesn't mean you have anything to do with them at all.
Posted by Ann on 05/29/02@11:33 AM CST ..::Link::..
I was breastfeeding a cat. I had very long breasts. It was most weird.
I had received a bunch of pre-written-up invitations and press releases composed by the gallery I'll be having a show in this July. I was supposed to send them out myself. Then I started to read them and some were personal letters and I didn't want to spend the postage for someone else's personal letters.
And I think there was something else, but I forgot it. Perhaps I'll remember it later in three different acts, like yesterday, perhaps not.
Posted by Ann on 05/29/02@10:05 AM CST ..::Link::..
Tuesday, May 28, 2002
There goes the neighborhood
Don't even look at me. Pretend not to see me. Ignore me. Imagine I'm not really your neighbor, after all, you'll be gone in two years anyway, why take the time to get to know someone you know you haven't the slightest thing in common with anyway. Your home is just a starter home, something you'll trade in for a newer, bigger model, just like the others before you did.
What is it with some people? If they're too darn good for the neighborhood and too darn good to even say hi to their neighbors, why the heck did they buy a house here?
Posted by Ann on 05/28/02@08:53 PM CST ..::Link::..
Wow, I keep remembering more of my dream last night. I can't remember the specifics, but I do remember there was a Catholic priest involved. He was older, like 70 or so, white hair, balding. He was talking to a child in a way that I feared for the child. I wanted to help the kid, but I think I woke up or went on to another dream or something.
Posted by Ann on 05/28/02@01:15 PM CST ..::Link::..
Some weird referral led me to do a search on the places I used to live. I found this school. It only housed first and second graders when I went there, which are the grades I was in when I lived there--how convenient. We lived behind the school across a field. My parents cut a path in the field with a sickle so that I could walk to school. In the first grade, my mom would walk with me across the field every morning, until the weather got too bad. Then I took the bus. I'd vomit each day before I boarded the bus. I don't know which was worse, taking a bus with a bunch of kids who never wanted to sit by the new kid, or being the only kid to walk to school across a field. I can't believe this school still exists...I would have dreams that I'd go back to see it and it'd be in ruins, like something from ancient Greece. Hopefully, Stan and I will get to travel out east this fall to see his biomom and meet his biograndma for the first time. They live not far from this place where I lived--how ironic is that? I swear Stan and I were destined to find eachother...somehow. While he was a little kid in Colorado 2000 miles away, I was out east living about 50 miles the way the crows fly from his biological mother. And his biological dad's birthday is two days before mine, and his biological mom's birthday is three days after mine. How weird is that? We were in eachother's stars. Yet I digress. I'll be fascinated to see how it's changed in the past 33 years...I'm sure not for the better, at least aesthetically. We'll also have to check out where I lived in upstate New York (Liverpool) when I was around 9, (it was a total Brady Bunch neighborhood) and South Bend, IN where I grew up as a pre-schooler.
Posted by Ann on 05/28/02@01:03 PM CST ..::Link::..
Yesterday someone put out some hastily done signs across the street which read "Bread not Bombs" and "No War" and "Honk if You Support Peace." I understand the point they were trying to make, but the irony is, shouldn't it be "Honk if You Support War?" Shouldn't supporting peace be made more peacefully?
The really strange thing is that in the middle of the night last night I heard a couple of flocks of geese flying by, honking. It was most surreal, as the only time I am aware of honking geese flying is in the fall when they fly south in Vs, and then they're high in the sky and sound distant. I've never heard geese at night, nor in the spring, nor at such a low altitude. It was most ominous.
Posted by Ann on 05/28/02@10:13 AM CST ..::Link::..
Oh geez...I just remembered another part of my dream. I dreamt Courtney Love got a total plastic surgery makeover that made her nose miniscule. I was quite angry that someone with a supposed punk attitude like hers would sink so low in the vanity department, and I was going to make a public scene about it for her to answer to (like I have a public forum except for this journal...yeah right).
One thing you'll never see here folks, is Ann getting a nosejob.
It really grabs my groin to hear people with noses smaller than mine threaten nose jobs (so that they know that I know they're thinking about it...I don't mean people that don't know I'll hear them say it). I mean, WTF? I've lived with my schnozz for nearly 41 years...you can live with your nasal dysmorphic disorder for just as long. It's like me complaining about being too short in front of someone with achondroplasia.
Posted by Ann on 05/28/02@08:54 AM CST ..::Link::..
DREAM-As fake as an eight dollar bill
Weird confusing dream. I can't remember the specific sequence of events, so this might be a little mixed up.
Stan and I were trying to park in front of my parent's house, but for some reason he couldn't do it properly. He ended up parking on their lawn. Also, it was like it was our house...they didn't live there anymore. Inside it was like a hybrid of their house and our real house, which is really hard to imagine because theirs is a early 1960s brick ranch and ours is a 1908 2-story frame. There were some guys that were either leasing out their basement or a spare room or something, but they were also using our van. I didn't like the idea of them doing this, as overhearing some of their conversations it sounded like they were getting in a lot of trouble. We were talking to them in the kitchen and I was asking them a lot of questions about how much longer they'd need the van. They were acting like it was theirs and that that they needed it to do just a few errands, but they mentioned the word "blood" and I didn't like the sound of it. I told them they couldn't use it anymore because I needed it, and they seemed very disappointed.
Then I remember I was at a mall (ick...I never go to malls) and was looking in a clothing store. I found a blouse that I was going to buy, but for some reason I walked out holding the blouse without having bought it first. As I walked into another store in the mall, I realized what I'd done. I freaked out and ran back to the original store and quickly ran to the cashier to pay for it. I told her what I had accidentally done and she laughed. I was pulling bills out of my wallet to pay for it, and noticed I had an eight dollar bill. The paper it was printed on was of a different texture than regular money, so I thought it was a counterfeit and was a bit worried that whatever store I'd been to before had given me a counterfeit bill in change. (Duh...it was an EIGHT DOLLAR BILL!)
Posted by Ann on 05/28/02@08:34 AM CST ..::Link::..
Monday, May 27, 2002
I really hate the smell of barbecue. I hate the smell of the smoke, I hate the smell of the scorched flesh, I hate the smell of the lighter fluid. Why does everyone and his brother have to barbecue outside today? Because you're "supposed to?" It's really hard in densely packed areas of the city like where I live, where the lots are only 40x120 or less, and some are multi-family units. All that stink pollution. Why do people so blindly follow holiday traditions? We don't even own a grill. What's wrong with a cold meal on a hot day instead of cooking outside anyway? It's not even hot today. I'm barefoot and my feet are cold.
Stop the insanity!
Posted by Ann on 05/27/02@04:35 PM CST ..::Link::..
Sunday, May 26, 2002
Art Tile Coasters
I've opened up a special CafePress store featuring my art in the form of ceramic tiles which can either be used as coasters or hung on the wall in a mini-gallery grouping. This week's featured art: Cold War Flying Saucer, Swanky Martini, Nostalgic Nuclear, Retro TV.
Posted by Ann on 05/26/02@03:44 PM CST ..::Link::..
By Ann @ 20:56 PM CST:06:20:02 ..::Link::..