Friday, February 24, 2012
Do It For Yourself, Not Your Fans
In retrospect, B.G. doesn’t really seem all that strange. I was probably just jealous because he was prettier than me, and I couldn’t wear makeup or get my ears pierced until I was 15. And come on, pretty much anything he wore was better than MJ’s unfortunate nose job. 80’s androgyny aside, there is a lesson hidden here in the wide-looping cursive of a 12-year-old Michael Jackson apologist.
Life is filled with people just trying "put an impression on their fans" -- real phony baloney types. The put-on usually starts in the teenage years, when we’re all trying desperately to fit in -- or trying to fit in just enough not to stand out. But it seems to me that the desperate impress-a-thon continues way beyond 8th grade, and it remains just as unpleasant now as it was then…much like adult acne. It begs the question, when are we all going to just give it a rest already?
We’re all guilty of the ole personal sham to a certain extent, especially when it comes to people we’re either dating or would like to be dating. We slip into this sheer gown of illusion and pretend to love stand up comedy, or Star Wars, or Russian novels, or holding hands. (if you actually love that stuff, ok fine -- just insert other things in there…though I wouldn’t brag about the holding hands bit) But hey, that’s dating, and dating is embarrassing and you can’t risk being yourself too early in the game.
What’s worse are the hard core fakers. You know the type. They’ve been pretending so long they don’t even know they’re doing it anymore. (or do they?)
For example, I grew up with this guy who did pretty well for himself. He moved away from our small Midwestern town which is in a lovely looking part of the country. He eventually was able to buy a small house there that he stays in while visiting the old neighborhood. One day on Facebook (where fakery runs rampant and mostly unchecked) I saw him referring to this perfectly normal, average house as his “cottage.” Cottage?! It’s a block and a half from our old high school. Does a hedgehog live there? Do bluebirds pull open your curtains in the morning? His house is a cottage like my apartment is a chalet.
One Vomitini, please. Shaken, stirred, and served up fresh.
My favorite phony is the rabid, haughty pseudo-intellectual. I’ve met several. And I’m here to tell you, they’re not all British. I recently worked with a guy who loved to brag (insert snotty tone here) that he had never watched a single solitary second of a reality show. Now, come on, I enjoy Downton Abbey as much as the next girl, but you’re lying if you tell me you’ve never laid eyes on a Kardashian or one of their ilk – even if only in passing. And if you are indeed lying, may I have permission to snatch your pretentious eyeballs out with a serrated grapefruit spoon?
Just asking.
We gave this guy the nickname “NPR” -- behind his back of course, like all good nicknames --because he loved to make references to timely, eloquent, profound opinions he’d heard on public radio and pass them off as his original thoughts. (apologies to National Public Radio which is a fine institution) Upon further questioning it would become quite clear that he couldn’t possibly know less about the topic than say…Kim Kardashian? (a reference lost on him, of course) “NPR” was equal parts self promoter and self congratulator -- boasting about not understanding the first thing about how unemployment works because he’d “never needed it,” and referring to his work as “important” on more than one occasion.
Once, he looked at me and said smugly, “I’m at a point in my life where I just don’t really care if people like me.” Again, I didn’t believe him, but I did think to myself – that’s good buddy, because they don’t like you. They really, really don’t.
Ultimately, I guess phony is in the eye of the beholder. Some of these people may just be genuine assholes, after all. And I’ll just bet half of them list “Catcher in the Rye” as one of their top twenty favorite books. I’ve wasted way too much time trying to poke holes in the facades of others. (but it is still my favorite sport) As a person who blogs under an assumed name, who am I to judge anyway? Today though, whatever happens, I'm going to make an effort to do it for myself, not the damn fans.
Also, I love Boy George.
Saturday, March 12, 2011
Desperately Seeking...
Nothing says Spring forward like a look back:
April 14, 1985
The other night (Sat.) Louise, Brian, Tyra and I went to P. Town to see “Desperately Seeking Susan.” Madonna was really good!! I think when I get older I want to lead a wild life minus drinking and smoking plus dancing, partying and traveling. I wanna see the world. Become a famous actress – but most of all have fun!!
I’ll admit, I mixed up a few of the plusses with the minuses (x10!) over the years. What can I say? Math is complicated.
So my life is technically not “wild.” I won’t apologize for spending the occasional Friday night sitting on the couch doing hair experiments to simulate what I would look like with bangs. (not good, turns out) I believe we all need to continue seeking Susan wherever we're able to find her, but it's ok to take a rest now and again. I may not dance, party and travel the world as much as I'd like, but hey, there’s still time for all of that.
You know, when I get older.
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
Blame it on the Boogie
This time of year can get downright depressing and my creative well is a tad dry. When that happens, sometimes it helps to look back on where we were on this very date in 1984.
2-2-1984
I got the album Off the Wall from my mom. It was Michael Jackson's album before Thriller. I have Thriller too! Off the Wall is an excellent album! It has one of my favorite songs on it. It is called She's Out of My Life. It's such a sad song. At the end of it, it sounds like Michaels practically crying! I go for the slow songs more than the fast ones. Especially if they are by Michael Jackson!! He is such a nice guy. My whole room is covered with his gorgeous face! He is my absolute favorite!
Gorgeous room decor only goes so far; and winter can make even the most cheerful of us “go for the slow songs” – can’t it? Ah, those soul crushing ballads, how they speak to our inner torment. Especially when they're by Michael Jackson.
Here’s a thought. Instead of practically crying our way through these long lonely months, maybe we should just go for a few fast songs? Yes, ok, perhaps last year kind of sucked, and who knows if this year is going to be any better – but if it isn’t, you could always blame it on the boogie.
Friday, April 2, 2010
Freaky Fridays: 5
It’s been awhile since I’ve posted, but don’t fool yourself into believing I’ve run out of teen angst. More to come, people. More to come.
But today is Friday, so let’s keep it freaky. Here is the Michael Jackson obsessed diary entry of the week:
1-27-84
It’s about 11:30 at night and I just found out that Michael Jackson had an accident today. He was filming a commercial for Pepsi Cola (which is a miracle in itself) when his hair caught on fire. I don’t really know all of the facts, but I bet I’ll hear them tomorrow. It appears that he is ok. He’s spending the night in the hospital. I’m kind of worried about him. I hope his hair is ok.
Why is filming a Pepsi commercial a “miracle”?! I was seriously worried though. And because I care about you people and don’t want you to worry also, I’m going to give you the follow up:
1-28-84
Now I have all of the facts on the accident. Michael was dancing to his song Billie Jean when one of the smoke bombs (special effects) they were using brushed the back of his neck, and he didn’t realize his hair was on fire and he spun around and it spread. His brothers pushed him down and they put out the fire. He was carried off in a stretcher and it showed him all strapped in, he looked tired, but he managed a weak wave to the crowd of worried fans all around him. It was so sad.
I don’t know that I truly did have ALL the facts because I’m pretty sure his brothers had nothing to do with putting out the fire in Michael Jackson’s hair…but I was pretty close. And it was sad.
Also, Billie Jean is a damn good song.
Friday, March 12, 2010
Freaky Fridays: 4
Creepy pre-teen Michael Jackson diary of the week:
1-26-84
Michael Jackson is really emotional. I read that he thinks of himself as a sort of Peter Pan. And he is. He will go tell a record company exactly what he wants, and then play a game of hearts with a friend who is 8 years old! One time Jane Fonda and him were riding around together and she turned to him and said, “I realize you’re Peter Pan.” He got tears in his eyes and said, “I totally identify with Peter Pan, the lost boy of Never-Never Land.” He said that he had pictures of Peter Pan all over his room and that he read everything that the author had written. What a nice guy!
Oh to be in the backseat of that car, riding around with Jane and MJ. But seriously, who among us hasn’t had just this very same conversation with a friend?
I bet it’s way easier to win at cards if you’re playing against an 8-year-old. And less "emotional."
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
A Simple (Awesome) Plan
Ok, so I feel that I should fess up.
For those of you who bother to read this blog regularly (I love you the most, by the way, you’re all I’ve got. No, seriously…) -- you may remember that I recently posted an entry where I celebrated my hard earned “freedom” from my 9th grade crush on a sophomore named Chris. (see entry aptly titled “Freedom”) All true, of course.
I am woman/teenage girl, hear me roar!
For a second anyway.
Just a few pages later, I stumbled on to this:
Sunday, May 11, 1986
For the first time in a looonngg…time I had a real blast. Today (about 7:30) Karen called me to play football with her, Brian, Monica, Mark, Chris, Tim, Javier,Sarah,and Erik. It was sooooooo much fun! I suck at football, but we had fun. It was cool. Monica is so nice!! Chris looked cute! Oh shit – I can’t handle it!! I might as well admit it…I’m in lust over him!! Why the hell can’t I forget about him?!? What am I going to do? I have an awesome plan. I’ll be really super nice to him no matter what!! Then see what happens! (insert scribbled hearts here) Tyra and I are going out prom nite and partying majorly since we aren’t going to the prom!!
More later!!
And so, there I am. Alone again. With Tyra.
There’s a lot going on here:
Blast.
Fun.
Suck.
Fun (again).
Cool.
Nice.
Cute.
Shit.
And Lust?!
I was 14. What did I know of lust?! Maybe it was all that football…
Let’s focus. So, this guy Chris does NOT like me. He has shown no tangible signs of genuine affection even by a high school standard. And yet my “awesome plan” is to be “super nice” to him?!
“No matter what,” no less?!
Bad plan. Flawed to the extreme. Not even the slightest bit awesome. But worse? It became not just a “plan” but a pattern.
I’ve always held to the misguided belief that you should greet people’s indifference, rudeness and general cruelty with private indignation mixed with public displays of nothing but smiles.
I’m not some kindly saint. Or even kind of kindly. But I can fake it. And I often do. Because I figure that eventually, if you’re nice enough – albeit in a pointed yet subtly disappointed fashion -- you won’t have to tell them they’ve been a rotten jerk at all. Why, they’ll just learn their lesson(s) and come to their sense(s) all on their own(s)! Then we can all share a milk shake and say bygones. Just like in the movies!
To paraphrase Hemingway, Shakespeare, Judy Blume and the like: “yeah, right.”
The other day my sister pointed out this foolish pattern to me with a simple question. She was outraged by the overly polite response I made to someone’s overtly rude comment on my Facebook page, and she asked me: “When exactly can we stop trying to kill people with kindness and just kill them?!”
She didn’t mean literally or "majorly" of course.
At least, I don’t think she did.
Either way, she has a point. It doesn’t work, this awesome plan. Kindness is too often wasted on the wrong people. And politeness?! Politeness is for the birds. And birds are creepy, and they shit on you.
In closing, I’d like to take diary entry attendance one last time: Karen, Brian, Monica, Mark, Chris, Tim, Javier, Sarah and Erik.
Hold the phone...Javier?
Oh Javier. How did I let you slip away?
More later.
Thursday, March 4, 2010
Freaky Fridays: 3
It’s Freaky Friday time. You know what to do.
Freak OUT.
Here is the creepy pre-teen Michael Jackson diary of the week:
1-24-84
Michael Jackson seems like a really deep guy. He says things that kind of make you wonder for a while. Like, he once asked his sister if she would rather be a rich queen with no friends and very unhappy, or extremely poor and have lots of friends and be happy. He always tells her that money can’t bring happiness. And, you know, he’s absolutely right!
This is not only deep, it's a tough one. I need more information. Why does the rich queen have no friends? And does she have cable and internet access in her friendless kingdom?
It does kind of make me wonder (for a while).
So, speak up now my Janets, what’ll it be? Rich queen? Or popular pauper?
You know my answer...forget the cash, love will never do without YOU.
Freedom!
You know that feeling when you finally realize that the person you like is never going to like you back?
The what-if-something-actually-worked-out-for-once party is over, and you’re the last guest to leave. Plus you spilled on the carpet, puked in your own hair, and your ride left hours ago.
This was the first of many of these sort of realizations for me:
Sunday, May 4, 1986
Well, I guess there comes a time in each stage of your life when you realize it’s time to move on. It’s a natural progression. It has to happen. Holding on to past dreams only hurts. You have to set new goals and ambitions. What I am really trying to say is that my obsession with Chris was/is ridiculous to continue. To sacrifice so much of my life/thoughts with nothing to show for it is just plain senseless. It’s time to move on. It’s not healthy to keep this up soo…It’ll be tough, but I’ll cry my tears, and everything will return to normal if not better!!
More later…
"Normal if not better" seems a little sad/pathetic, right? Or maybe not…
(Later on Sunday, May 14)
I am so happy. It suddenly hit me…I’m FREE. Free not to hurry to class so I can walk next to him… FREE not to give a shit what I look like when I go to school in the morning… FREE to not go to the damn library… FREE not to get depressed when he doesn’t talk to me… FREE not to hurry back to school at lunch time… FREE to live for myself for once! I went straight from liking Bobb to Chris and never gave myself the chance to be free. It’s almost summer!! I’ll give it a rest for a while. Maybe I’ll try again next year, maybe not. Either way: I feel WONDERFUL! My GOD – I am only 14 (going on 15) years old!! I don’t need this aggravation!! I am going on a major health kick and by graduation I’m going to be awesome and this summer I am going to party massively! I worry way too much. Enough of that!! Yess!!
MORE LATER!
I’m not sure why I was suddenly going to stop going to the "damn library"…but hey, I’m FREE. (and my “more later” just got a "damn" sight more enthusiastic!)
I may have been 14 (going on 15), but I think I was on to something here. Sure this head-over-heels stuff can be a real rush, but who likes to rush? (or bother to shower before school, for that matter...)
The end of any relationship (or non-relationship that you thought might actually become a relationship given the right outfit and circumstances) seems sad. But what if all that “when one door closes another opens” crap is actually true after all? Better yet, what if behind door number two is one big “massive” party? You won't know until you go through it. Or bust it down, whatever.
Here’s to freedom, kids. Remember, no matter how bleak things may seem, it’s almost summer somewhere. "Yess!"
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Freaky Fridays: 2
TGIF, mofos!
Yep, it’s Friday, and you know what that means…let’s get freaky.
For those who missed last week’s Freaky Friday, this is the day devoted to my creepy pre-teen Michael Jackson diary entries!
Just when you think the MJ legacy can’t get any more awesome, meet 12-year-old me:
1-23-84
I just got a whole bunch of new pictures and articles about Michael Jackson. I have them posted all over my wall! I just found out that Michael Jackson is a big fan of E.T.! He has seen that movie about 12 times! He even narrated the story on to a record. He is just like a big kid. I read that when he has a rough day, he bikes over to the nearest playground to talk with the kids! He also loves cartoons! He has a huge collection of them! Paul McCartney also has one. Whenever they get together, they watch cartoons! I think it’s great!
Michael Jackson. E.T. Paul McCartney. Cartoons.
If you don’t have a great weekend, don’t blame me.
Let's Go Crazy, Let's Get Nuts.
July 8, 1985
I have been really depressed. It’s strange because I should be happy, it’s summer, I have a good job, I have my 14th birthday coming up this Thursday – so why do I feel so down?! Isn’t life funny in that way – at times when you should feel great you feel bad, and vice versa!!
Yeah, life is funny that way. And sometimes it seems more vice than versa, if you know what I mean. But it’s important to smell the roses, even when they’re surrounded by manure:
July 8, 1985 (continued)
The other day I got my ears pierced (Saturday). I absolutely love it!! Although I am not really used to it yet!! I keep feeling to make sure I did really have the guts to do it!!
Something recently pissed me off (that’s nothing new!!)…
Here we go now. Pierce those ears and clench those fists, the perpetual outrage rides again.
You may have noticed by now that I’ve got a considerable amount of beef with the world.
Being mad for this long can be exhausting.
July 8, 1985 (continued)
…Anyway, my brother was going to rent a V.C.R. for me for my birthday. The movie he was going to get was “Purple Rain.” (by Prince) Well, boy, did he pick the wrong moment to spring the idea on mom. She had just seen a feature on a group of mothers complaining about Prince being “inappropriate” for children and how they were going to start putting warning labels on record albums. Have you ever heard of anything so gay?!
I want to take a moment to apologize for my unfortunate use of the term “gay”. I thought about changing it to make myself look better, but that somehow seemed dishonest. I was 13, but that’s no damn excuse. Don’t worry, I got my comeuppance when my hopes for a hot love affair with George Michael were dashed on the rocks of reality. Furthermore I say, DOWN with prop 8, UP with gay marriage!
But I digress...
July 8, 1985 (continued)
I can just see it now – a little white paragraph: “Warning: The Surgeon General of mothers has determined that Prince is Dangerous to your health.”
What a joke!! Next thing you know it, albums will be rated “R”!! Anyway, she said I couldn’t have the movie! I told her if she thought she was sparing my inner soul she was wrong – my character is strong enough to withstand one movie without becoming a juvenile delinquent!! And this record business is just plain stupid!! If my mother thinks she’s gonna take my Purple Rain album away from me – she’s got another thing coming!! It is my favorite album – obscene as it may be. This is just plain censorship that they’re talking about!! And if they try it – it’ll only get teens more hyped. It’s a natural fact, teenagers are rebels against their parents. A Tears for Fears song says it well (Shout) – “They gave you life, and in return you gave them hell”
That’s all for now…
My poor mother, by the way.
This was bigger than me and my birthday and my rented V.C.R. and the movie Purple Rain, this was about CENSORSHIP!
Or, maybe it was more so about me and my birthday and my rented V.C.R., etc…
Either way, my inner soul was pissed.
I have an issue with what I like to call “my levels.” Once I get going, the volume is through the roof. To put it kindly, I’m passionate. To put it honestly, I’m a nutbag.
For example, I recently went to a birthday party where I lost my shit because these two guests didn’t show up until 11:45PM. (for a party that started at 8:00PM) But the thing that really pissed me off was that they showed up carrying nothing but a half empty 12-pack of some obscure flavor of Dr. Pepper! I wanted to scream: Where have you people BEEN?! And who brings a half empty 12-pack of Dr. Pepper to a party?! What the hell happened to the rest of it for christsakes?!
easy now, easy…
Not every battle is worth fighting. I’ve since seen Purple Rain, and not only was it inappropriate for a 14-year-old birthday party (though Prince also struggled with his parents), it wasn’t an entirely great cinematic effort.
Damn good album though.
I’m working on controlling my levels. Mainly because it’s hard to win a fight when you’re yelling…people tend to hang up on you. But if you think you're gonna take my moral outrage away from me, you've got another thing coming!
Dearly Beloved, I think it’s ok to get a little worked up now and again. A “natural fact” even.
I don’t advocate fist fights with tardy people who like Dr. Pepper, but generally speaking -- things aren’t fair, and until they are, as Tears for Fears would say...
Shout. Shout.
Let it all out. Come on, I'm talking to you...