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...
Friday, February 19, 2010
Freaky Fridays
I mentioned before that I was a crazy Michael Jackson fan as a kid. I don’t know if I was able to fully communicate just how serious this wacko-jacko phase was. I have a ridiculous amount of demented diary entries about MJ. So many, that I could start an entirely new blog devoted to the MJ diaries alone.
But I figure, one blog is weird enough. Two blogs and you’re just a dick. (sorry multiple bloggers out there, I’m just speaking for myself on this issue)
So I’ve decided that Fridays will officially become creepy pre-teen Michael Jackson diary entry day here at Leave Me Alone.
TGIF people.
Grammy re-cap, circa 1984. This is it.
1-17-84
Michael Jackson is the greatest! He is so cool! He is also a total babe! (that means good looking) He was being really nice last night. He was nominated for 9 awards and won 8! That is a record I think. He also won the biggest award of all, the award of merit! All of his friends were up there saying nice things about him. Especially Diana Ross. They are really close friends. When she got up there, he was just about in tears! When he got up there to receive his award, he just hugged her. He even took up his 6-year-old friend to receive one award. He said that he was his biggest inspiration. I promise myself that one day I will meet Michael Jackson. I have to! After all, they say: where there’s a will, there’s a way! I am determined!
If you were wondering, his 6-year old friend was none other than Emmanuel Lewis of Webster fame. He was also with Brooke Shields, who, as you know, makes me want to barf.
In this clip, he even takes off his glasses. (the video says 1983, but trust me and my diary, it was 1984) Anyway doesn’t Michael Sembello seem pissed?
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Let's Dance (34-6-44)
Because any case of VD requires follow up care:
I realized that in my haste to let you know how I felt about Valentine’s Day (see VD-Day post from February 14), I neglected to let you know what actually happened with my crush on Chris. In fact, it never even occurred to me to bother. This was 9th grade, this crap doesn’t have a happy ending.
Or any ending, really.
Chris continued to be the primary focus of my freshman year (sorry academics). And like so many ill-conceived crushes that would follow, imagining that something might eventually happen made my normally mundane existence almost endurable.
2-15-86 continued…
…at the dance I asked Chris to dance once and he asked me to dance once (last dance – it was a fast one though). I was getting so pissed at Jenny. She kept asking him to dance and hanging around him at the game. She always does that!
Damn you, Jenny. May you never dance again!
But if I may offer my own homage to the great wisdom of Coolio: ain’t no party like an unrequited party cuz an unrequited party don’t stop:
2-27-86
…Chris was hanging around today. He talked to me a lot. We got in a fight! He apologized and gave me his locker combo (271 = 34-6-44) so I was excited! He’s so cute! I just am so tired of waiting around. I think maybe he likes me, but, as Whitney Houston says, “How will I know?” If something doesn’t happen real soon, I’ll have to give up and face reality.
By the way, I’m on another one of my famous diets. Spring break is coming up…I can’t wear a bathing suit in my shape!
More later…
Familiar, isn’t it? Ok, eventually locker combos become keys to our respective apartments, but isn’t this essentially still what we do to each other every day? All this veiled communication…
I could’ve just said, “Look Chris, I like you. How do you feel about me?” Instead, I turned up the Whitney Houston and went on another diet.
Alternatively, he could’ve said, “Look, I like you, but mainly only because you like me, and that’s good for my ego.” Instead I get the locker combo. (which by the way, why would you do that?! You’re just asking to get robbed or locker-bombed)
All the wondering. Waiting. Mixed signals. No signals. That’s the real dance, people.
And it’s not a slow one.
All I can say is, more later…
Sunday, February 14, 2010
VD-Day
It probably comes as no surprise that I find Valentine’s Day to be a crock.
If you’re alone, bring on wine-fueled waterworks. If you’re with someone, be all creepy and hold hands in public and say gross stuff like “You’re my soul mate.” (which is enough to make you miss the wine and waterworks)
Blech.
I'm not anti-romance. In fact, I used to read this series of paperback teen novels called Sweet Dreams Romances with titles like “It Must Be Magic.” (it so was) And I live for Mr. Darcy on paper and screen – as long as its the BBC miniseries Pride and Prejudice, not that crappy Kiera Knightly one.
Unfortunately real life is much less romantic than it ought to be. Eventually you end up a little too grateful for even the smallest gestures. And that’s not just the diminished expectations talkin’...
Case in point? Valentines Day 1986.
VD 86 was the year I was in love with an older man. A sophomore! Chris. (sigh) True, he was not the slightest bit interested in me, but why should that matter?! It was the 80s. If you want it, bunch up your leg warmers and go get it girl. So, several days before VD, I ordered a corsage for Chris.
Aw, yeah. Making my move:
2-15-86
Yesterday was the best day of this whole entire year…I got the corsage that I had ordered earlier for Chris. But I decided I wasn’t going to give it to him. Then after the bell rang and I was rushing around trying to get to English class Leah came up to me and said, “I think you should give it to him, he’s walking around all depressed.” So really quickly, I wrote on the card then gave the flower to Leah because I was late for English. Then during English I got delivered a cupcake and card. The card said: “Thanks for the flower. I thought it was pretty neat. Have a Happy Valentines Day! Love, Chris” I almost died! He’s so sweet! He could’ve just said thank you in person but this way was sooooooooo much better!
Good lord, why was I so grateful?! I ordered the guy a flower DAYS in advance. It probably cost me my entire allowance. That was some thoughtful shit, if I do say so myself. He passes by the cheerleader cupcake table and plops down a buck on his way to gym class, and I'm acting like he just slayed a dragon on my behalf.
2-15-86 (continued)
Tyra was telling me that Chris was at the cupcake table buying my cupcake…he was just gonna give it to me at lunch but Tyra said no – pick out a card and I’ll deliver it. He said, “I don’t know what to say – how’s this?” She said good. He asked, are you delivering it now? She said, yes. He said, “I’m leaving.” That sounds exactly like something I would say!! We are so much alike!”
He was just going to give it to me at lunch?! That's even worse!! I’m sorry, but seems to me like the one I should’ve been in love with was Tyra. At least she thought of the card.
And yeah, “I’m leaving” does sound exactly like something I would say. Or exactly like what anyone would say, you know, if they happened to be leaving.
Looking back, I’m not entirely sorry about the corsage bit though. You have to take chances with your allowance every now and again. Stir the romance pot, see what you get. Yes, sometimes you end up with humiliation stew, but you never know unless you try.
But screw Valentines Day. Just buy your own damn cupcake.
FYI, my sister recently informed me that time has not been kind to Chris.
“You wouldn’t want any of his cupcake,” she said. “Trust me.”
Friday, February 12, 2010
Team Irene
Don’t judge. I also read The New Yorker.
The New Yorkers I will leave around so that you’ll assume my life is one big smarty party. The other magazines I recycle, stat.
I’m not talking porno mags here, just your usual tabloid junk. Us Weekly, People, Ok, etc. Mainly I read these on planes. It’s weird. Something about being on a plane makes me yearn to know more about Kim Kardashian. (and there is really very little to be known, trust me)
I know some people only watch Masterpiece Theatre and read Russian novels, but I’m not really friends with them.
I'm not a total idiot (partial, yes). It's just that real life can get pretty damn depressing sometimes. Every once in awhile I have to take a break from standing in the middle of my living room and screaming at the television. (the 24-hour news cycle can be truly exhausting for those of us who like to scream at the television) When things are grim, I like a little magazine bubble gum.
I find the high school like nature of celebrity culture (sluts! betrayal! hook ups! mortal enemies!) oddly comforting. I draw the line at that Kate-who-loves-to-procreate. What a yawn.
So for a little Friday bubble gum, today I give you my perspective on celebrity culture at the ripe old age of 12:
3-6-84
Brooke Shields makes me want to barf. I don’t think she is very pretty and she can't act at all. She goes around with a giant fake smile on her face. I’d like to see someone hit her in the face one of these days and see how often she smiles after that. I swear she looks like a life-sized Barbie doll. I don’t know why Michael (Jackson) goes out with her. Probably because it’s a good person to be seen with. I wish he’d go out with someone like Irene Cara. She’s a lot prettier than Brooke!
It's not so much Brooke that I violently hated (she seems like a perfectly nice lady) -- but rather what Brooke Shields represented in my twisted little adolescent brain.
In this celeb parallel scenario, Michael Jackson is that guy I’m head over heels in love with, but I’ve come to the realization that he’ll never go for me. And I’ve made peace with that. I just don’t want to see him with the perfect little cheerleader type (Brooke). I want him to go for someone like Irene Cara. She’s pretty yet arty.
The kind of person who would be friends with you even if you were a little on the awkward/chubby side. (Which, incidentally, is also why I’m pro-Jennifer Aniston, she seems nice.)
Plus Breakdance was a really good song. Seriously. Well done, Irene:
5-9-84
I wish I could breakdance. It would be so great! I would show off for everyone. People who can breakdance are talented. They have to have rhythm and coordination. I have a little of both, but not enough to breakdance. But, who knows?! I may learn to yet! I love to watch someone breakdance. It’s really exciting. I want to see the movie Breakin’. I also love the song Breakdance by Irene Cara.
Like I said, just a little bubble gum, people. Chew it up.
Then get back to your Russian novels.
