Finding myself by copying and pasting July 31, 2008
Posted by brandy in adventure, and now you might know everything, brookem is awesome!, don't hate me for this, friends, hello universe? I love you, holidays, i do not like movies starring "The ROCK", i love fragment sentences, let's not talk about how long this took, politics, the less i worry the happier i am, wasting time.24 comments
This is my second attempt at this post.
My first one was long winded and filled with deep thoughts on traveling and exploring and (wait for it… ) finding yourself. I swear. It had so many mentions of the word “journey” it could have been a script for a reality television show. There may have even been some Mark Twain action going on (see? I told you. Long-winded. I have it on good authority that it’s impossible to write a post that involves Twain and have it NOT be long winded), but I had to delete it.
Why?
Because you know, I’m leaving on my trip (to Mexico after all! Hooray for families who support vacations and let their daughters blow off significant birthday celebrations!) and I may die by some random shark attack or alcohol poisoning due to the two-one margarita deal I always succumb to (why must I see that as a deal that I have to get in on? My liver always hates me the next day. I’m pretty sure it’s thisclose to putting itself up for adoption). And the idea that my last blog post would be some boring post that didn’t make me giggle writing it just wouldn’t do. In fact, dying and having my last post be anything but random would be poor form. It’s not that I think I’m going to explode to death after entering myself in an all you can eat pico de gallo contest, I just want to be prepared in case it happens.
Speaking of consuming in excess, I almost sent this card to my travel buddy today:
Sure it was created for St. Patrick’s day, but I pretty sure it will fit perfectly into this trip where it is the duty of men in white starched uniforms to keep my inebriated hydrated on the beach where my biggest annoyance will be sand on my chair.
Do you hate me after that last sentence? I don’t blame you if you do.
Have an excellent week without me. Brookem shall keep you entertained when I’m away and I promise to come back with many stories and pictures. And possibly the seed of a love child from my new Mexican boyfriend.
Ohhh and now because I just saw it, I have to put this one in too. Some people may think I take politics too seriously, but this made me laugh:
Hmm. Now I’m just copying and pasting random things into my post. In this instant I’ve realized I’ve managed to become long winded without Twain.
Back to packing.
*e-cards are from www.someecards.com the greatest site in the world, after this one.
What I’ve learned from yet another conversation about Pamela Anderson July 30, 2008
Posted by brandy in Annie Lebowitz is so jealous, and now you might know everything, anti-ascot, beauty can get ugly, family, hello universe? I love you, i'm hot like fire, it happened this week, it makes sense to me, life lesson, people i like, pretty hair makes me happier, women.30 comments
So as some of you may remember, my mother and I recently got into a debate about ‘who was beautiful‘. I was more of a Natalie Portman/Angelina Jolie fan and my mom was more of a fan of Pamela Anderson.
We’ve since continued the debate. But before I bring you the latest installment, let me just show you what sort of judgment my mom has.
This picture here:
that’s me on the first day of kindergarten. You can’t see it, but I’m actually wearing lace tights- to match my lace and yellow coat (also sadly, not featured). I went to school that day with a black patent purse filled with tinkerbell perfume and $50 in Monopoly money. Please note that even at the tender age of 5, I had already mastered a look of disgust. Please also notice the need for more lace (other than my coat and tights)- a piece of lace tied into my hair. Because as a child, I could never wear enough lace.
Which brings me to this photo:
I’ve posted it before, but bears showing again. This was considered a play outfit. If you look closely you can see that along with a lace hair ribbon and lace dress, I’m also wearing lace tights. If my mom could fashion a lunchbox out of lace, I’m pretty sure she would have. I don’t entirely blame her- it was the 80’s (at least that’s what I tell myself now).
Which brings me back to the current debate. I was feeling that I held the upper hand in this debate (using the above photos as evidence of my mom’s sometimes lack of good sense). If you recall the last talk, my mom was quick to scoff my choices and imply that Natalie Portman must be suffering some fatal disease since she’s not almost burnt to death from tanning beds but the other day she said something that ended the debate. It started out like this…
Me: Mom, it really bothers me that you consider Pamela Anderson the epitome of beauty. I mean….she’s just all fake. Besides, all mothers are supposed to think their daughters are the most beautiful and I look nothing like Pam. (And hook the line, because I’m officially searching for compliments from my mom)
Mom: I’m not falling for that (damn!), you know I think you are beautiful (score!). But can I ask you something? You love those commercials … what’s the name.. Dove? Yes, the Dove commercials that teach us that as long as someone is happy, they are beautiful. So, if Pamela Anderson is happy, isn’t she beautiful?
Silence as I attempt to outwit the person who brought me into the Earth (who usually outwits me)
Me: I guess.. it just feels wrong.
Mom: Because she’s not your idea of beautiful. But the thing to remember buttercup-is that just because she’s not your cup of tea doesn’t mean she’s not beautiful at all. I think that’s the whole point behind those soap commercials.
I could have kept arguing but it would have been hard since I did think my mom had a point. I realized as fast as she was to judge Natalie Portman, I even faster to judge Pamela Anderson. And that’s the trouble with beauty- we are so quick to determine if something is beautiful, so quick to judge it, to look at it- that we often forget to really see it. For what it is, regardless of what we what or don’t want it to be. What we do or don’t deem beautiful.
So I’ve learned that I may not list Pamela Anderson in my list of top ten beautiful women, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t beautiful to someone else. And in the words of someone smarter than me ” beauty comes in every shape and size, and sometimes color only found in a tanning booth”.
I’ll let you guess who said that.
Tang is the drink of thoroughly depressed champions!
July 29, 2008
Posted by brandy in AHHHHHHHHHHH!, Josh Lyman needs his own tag, are you there God? It's me- ripping off Judy Blume, disappointment, i like scotch & table dancing, is it weird this makes me cry?, it's okay- you can skim this one, men, oh dear, shoes, the george, what the hell.
28 comments
I’m going all cliche blogger on you and doing bullets.
(What a great way to start! I’m sure you all are hanging off the edge of your chair now that you know this post is in bullet form. I think I might even hear cheering from the cheap seats!)
- I hate men. No, that’s not true. My lovelies (George, Josh and John- men who my heart calls only by their first name) shouldn’t be lumped in with the scoundrels that repeatedly stomp on my heart. Or at least.. other vital organs that are less cliche. Perhaps my liver? Anyway… men. The scoundrels. I usually love and hate them in equal amounts, but after today I’m pretty sure the scale has tipped in the direction of hate.
- I have booked my trip. I have bought bathing suits. I have bought sunscreen. I’m excited. Or … right now I’m trying to be. Bloody hell. Only a man could ruin a vacation. I hate the way that I allow other people to chose how I’m going to feel. I was so excited about this trip and now I just want to go lay down and listen to the Mamma Mia! soundtrack and drink Tang.
- I saw Mamma Mia! and it’s fucking awesome. Meryl Streep should get handfuls of diamonds, buckets of rainbows and bricks of gold for her performance. And if she’s not your personal Jesus, Colin Firth takes his shirt off. That alone is worth the ticket.
- I bought a pair of gladiator sandals and everytime I wear them I want to say “At my signal, unleash hell” in my most Russel Crowe like voice. Which? Everyone loves to hear.
- I just found my travel journal from when I was in grade 10 and went to Disneyland. It’s hilarious. I found it extremely important to detail everything I ate (ex: “Tuesday, September 24th: One hamburger, grapes and a medium orange pop for lunch. It was great, the grapes were red.”) and everything I bought (ex. “Today I bought an awesome Calvin Klein grey sweatshirt. *It has the logo on the front so everyone will know where I bought it”). Did I write anything about going to Disneyland? Or Knott’s Berry Farm? Or ANYTHING? Nope. Because it was far more important to detail the color of grapes. The very last thing I wrote in it is “p.s. I saw a homeless man get hit by a car outside LAX”. Just one line. But I wax on and on about that bloody Calvin Klein sweatshirt for two paragraphs. The journal for my upcoming trip will be better. Lord knows it couldn’t be worse.
- If you want to have the BEST TIME EVER, go watch horse racing. And cheer loudly while drinking sugary coolers (hi Bacardi Breezers? Thanks for taking me back to highschool). And then take many, many pictures outside a pizza shop.
- Bathing suit shopping is less stressful if you have two martinis for lunch. I do not suggest it, I’m just saying it doesn’t hurt. Until like, 4pm and your brain feels like it’s been slapped by God himself.
- Scrabulous off of facebook? I did not need this to happen this week. Seriously. My whole life day is screwed up now.
* And yes. I know it’s shallow. What can you expect? It was my second week of HIGHSCHOOL and I thought labels made me cool. Now I know better. Now I know iphones are what makes you cool.
help! July 28, 2008
Posted by brandy in AHHHHHHHHHHH!, adventure, advice, help, your vote matters here.39 comments
So by random chance and circumstance, I find that I have the next few weeks absolutely free. I mean… nothing is going on. AT ALL.
I actually hear crickets when I open up my *social planner.
Which leaves me with only one option- vacation with my friend who is also itching to get away.
We struggled to figure out how we could go to Mexico (hello beach! hello free drinks!), but sadly my friend has a family engagement she CANNOT miss and now the timing doesn’t work with Mexico. (Which? I do not understand. We send people to the moon. We can make those mini marshmallows. We can forgive Hugh Grant for hooking up with a hooker and yet we can’t get a flight out of Mexico when we need it?? Why world, why?)
So we’ve decided to re-think our trip. Here is all that we want:
- something under $1000
- something that lets us leave immediately (we are thinking Friday or Saturday) and come back next week… like on Wednesday.
- something that requires my passport getting stamped
-must be the most fun ever (I’m not worried about this. I’m pretty sure we could have fun anywhere. I mean, we went to Europe together while I bravely fought mono and I still came back with enough juicy stories to fill 3 journals)
So that’s it. Who has ideas? Suggestions? Who wants to plan my weekend for me?
* I do not actually have a social planner, unless you count things I scribble down on napkins while I’m eating chicken wings with friends.
It worked for Lloyd Dobler July 27, 2008
Posted by brandy in I want to make Jim Halpert a mix tape, disappointment, i second that emotion, it makes sense to me, love or something like it, men, oh look! i have opinions., seriously, this might be why I'm single.35 comments
A young girl was breaking up with the “looks good on paper” fiancé. They were standing on a dock facing the ocean, watching the waves coming in when she handed him back the ring that had been the promise of their future. She wished that he would do something impulsive, something reckless. She silently prayed he would throw the ring into the ocean, if he could do something like that- an irresponsible and unexpected grand gesture, he would be the one for her. She realized that’s what she needed- proof he was willing to do more than any other man. Instead, he put it the ring in his pocket.
I remember reading that moment from a book in my early twenties and relating to the want of the big gesture. Despite what my gender might say, how they might refuse the idea of something so… wild, every girl does want to be the recipient of a grand signal of love. At least once. I know that sounds like a high maintenance request, but I think if you are with the right person- you will want to do it. Isn’t that what love is? A willingness to put yourself on a limb and hope that someone follows? To cast out the words you want to say and hope that someone is there to catch them? To do more than what’s required, what’s expected, what’s assumed to be the best choice and to just throw the damn diamond in the ocean?
Plane trips. Dumping out the contents of your heart and not needing a response because it’s not about someone else saying something to make you feel good, it’s about you trying to make someone else feel good. Handwritten haikus. Jumping on a Ferris wheel and refusing to let go until you get the date. (Okay, the last one was more Nicholas Sparks idea than mine…) Regardless if it’s right, or if it makes sense… sometimes things need to get messy. Sometimes the only way to get the girl is through the impractical act. Sometimes only doing what doesn’t make sense is the way to make sense of everything. A big, chaotic declaration that can’t go unnoticed or be misunderstood.
Of course there is no guarantee such an act will result in the happy ending Hollywood has us believing is the outcome of all romantic gestures. It doesn’t always work. But wouldn’t the world be a more interesting place if more people attempted the grand gesture? Isn’t it worth the risk sometime? What’s the point of yearning for an impossibly fantastic life if you won’t take a heart pounding chance? How can you expect one with out the other?
I don’t remember what happened to the girl except that she didn’t end up with the fiancé. Maybe that’s the only thing worth remembering.
The Ta-Da List July 23, 2008
Posted by brandy in Wednesday nights make me frisky, books, brookem is awesome!, don't judge me based on my love for bad music, family, friends, happiness, hello universe? I love you, i may write about the west wing forever, it happened this week, lists, people i like, the Ex files, the devils worker bees, these are the things that happen to me, top 10, wedding season is kicking my ass.54 comments
I’m going to level with you.
I’m a list person. Writing down everything I need, want or should do brings me the peace of mind that I can’t get with vodka shots with beer chasers yoga. However, when the to-do list gets insanely long I start adding things that I’ve already done. Just so I can check them off. Because crossing off things on my to-do list rates right up there with licorice and Don Cheadle on my list of things I love.
Sometimes, I completely forget the point of a to-do list and just write a list of everything I’ve done in the last week. I call my list of already completed tasks my ta-da list. Actually, I’ve never called it that before but it just came to me, so I’m using it. Writing a list of things I’ve already done allows me to further procrastinate from actually completing something on my to-do list and it just feels so good! Like drinking beer in the shower while listening to Vanilla Ice. Trust.
Here’s my ta-da! list for this week:
1. Accidentally re-connect with an old boyfriend and realize that I no longer want him to be chained to a cactus and driven directly into the pits of hell. Check!
2. Explain the term ‘curb stomp’ to my mom. Check!
3. Unconsciously sing Katy Perry at the dinner table and only stop when the G-Pop looks so uncomfortable he may shrivel up into a mini version of his cute suspender wearing self. Check!
4. Read. A LOT. (Check out the book link to see what I’ve read in July. I’ve starred my favorites!) Check!
5. Blow bubbles with an NHL hockey player. Check! (And… swoon!)
6. Have my first tear-fest listening to the song my friend picked for her wedding. Check!
7. Get a millionaire to buy me a hot dog. Check!
8. Buy ridiculously expensive and inappropriate undergarments. Check!
9. Find Brookem a Canadian boy. Check!
10. Watch my favorite episode of The West Wing, while eating Fruit Loops and drinking red wine. Check!
If you can watch this clip (from my favorite episode) without getting a little teary eyed- I’m not sure you have a soul. Perhaps you should just go kick a puppy or watch an elderly person drown and never come back to the blog.
And if you love that speech, talk to Nicole. She can recite the whole thing, which impresses me more than people who speak 4 languages.
I wish I could tell you I was kidding.
Responses I have given when a man has told me he loves me July 23, 2008
Posted by brandy in Plath has nothing on me, are you there God? It's me- ripping off Judy Blume, confession of the day, it happened this week, love or something like it, men, oh dear, this makes me sound dumber than i am, this might be why I'm single, who needs a self help book?.50 comments
- ” I don’t think you do. I think you want to, but I don’t think you do.” (Apparently I’m fine with completely dismissing the feelings of others)
- “Well.” (long, awkward, pause that’s heavy with regret and ripe with tension) “That’s a bit unexpected.”
- “Are you sure?”
- “Your sneakers look really white right now.”
- “You’re James, right?”
- “Why?” (Not said in a cute or coy way, but in utter bewilderment. I may or may not have been wearing a tank top stained with orange juice at the time)
- “I really love parts of you too”
- ” Um… thank you.” (Aka.= the worst answer ever. Instead of saying this, next time I will just curb stomp the guy- I’m sure it will be less painful.)
- “Shut up! It’s your turn to do a keg stand! Make me proud!”
- “Perhaps you should think on this. Take a few days and we’ll talk then”
- “Have you tried the chicken?”
And only twice have I replied with…
- ” I love you too”
I bring this up because once again the L word has been sent my way and I’ve responded with one of the above comments. And I regret it. I don’t know why, but I do.
Sometimes the idea of love and all it’s trappings makes me want to sing like Julie Andrews on a hilltop. More often than not however, it makes me want to put my head in the oven. Or at least medicate myself heavily with popsicles, a partial lobotomy and liters of tequila. Who’s with me?
What has annoyed me enough to take a popsicle pause July 14, 2008
Posted by brandy in AHHHHHHHHHHH!, Bill Schneider wears a lot of funny hats, anger and I have sat down for tea, books, cnn makes my heart beat fast, disappointment, i am slowly going crazy, oh look! i have opinions., politics, seriously, soapbox, thinking, today i am not funny, when i say it anyway.39 comments
I’ve been blogging a lot lately and was going to spend today eating popsicles and writing tweets declaring my love for the book “Then we Came to the End” by Joshua Ferris (in a word- genius), but I’m feeling ranty so you get another post. Hurrah!
This:
pisses me off. A lot. If you haven’t been following along, this is the new cover of The New Yorker magazine. It’s Obama dressed up like a Muslim, Michelle is a terrorist, there’s a burning American flag in the fireplace and a picture of Bin Laden looks on as the mighty couple give each other a ‘fist bump’. Or as some have called it “a possible terrorist signal”. (Fox news, I want to punch you in the junk).
The magazine has come out and said it’s “satire”. An image used to illustrate the ridiculousness of the attacks faced by Obama. One supporter on CNN had the nerve to say that the people who looked at this and believed what was depicted, would never be voting for Obama anyway, so there was no harm.
What’s wrong with this image, is that “satire” implies that we are smart enough to get the joke. That we can see this image, and mentally check off all the things that are not true. It requires a foundation of us knowing the truth behind the picture- Obama is not a Muslim. Michelle is not a terrorist. The problem is, we aren’t smart enough.
CNN recently interviewed people on who they were going to vote for. Many of those interviewed who said they were not supporting Obama based their reason on the fact that he was a Muslim. They were basing their views- their vote, on something that wasn’t true. So to have The New Yorker go out and illustrate what many people still believe to be true- isn’t just bad form, it’s dangerous. It reinforces ideas that many believe, ideas that aren’t true.
If you don’t like Obama, that’s fine. If you don’t support his ideas, care for his voting record, or disagree on personal beliefs- I understand that. I accept that. But what I have hard time accepting today is the idea that a magazine cover like this one put forth by The New Yorker does anything but harm everyone involved.
It may sell more copies, but it’s lost my respect.
Off my soapbox and back to my popsicle.
Throwing the book at Facebook July 13, 2008
Posted by brandy in anger and I have sat down for tea, it seemed like a good idea at the time..., just do what i say, men, open letter, soapbox, the world according to me, this tag is for you Arm!.44 comments
Dear Facebook,
I write to you today with a heavy heart. We used to be so close! Remember that time you introduced me to Scramble and my loved ones had to send out a search party? What fun! I loved that game. You were witty with all your superlatives (three votes for being caught wearing a bunny costume for no reason? Go me!), and I loved that I could play Scrabulous any time I wanted (even with Beth who continues to destroy me).
You let me stalk all those people I went to highschool with- you know the ones you just don’t know well enough to add as a ‘friend’, yet feel it necessary to see pictures of their 27th birthday party*. You let me feel like I attended the weddings of people I hardly knew, just by letting me scroll through their pictures. And I loved that about you. You made my stalking easier and you never judged me for wanting to judge others secretly.
However.
This whole ‘friend suggestion’ application is not necessary. Not only is it not necessary, at times dear Facebook- it’s down right inappropriate. You see, being a single girl of a certain age, it’s natural for me to have…. encountered a certain sum of men. Men who, are usually friends of my friends. Who, for whatever reason, turned out to be less than stellar gentlemen, men who I’ve stopped … encountering. Men who turned out to be married, unintelligent and/or poor kissers. Which is fine- lessons have been learned, (apparently you have to straight out ask a man “ARE YOU MARRIED- RIGHT NOW?”, and if you don’t do that, all the shame lies with you. But that is another rant for another day), and notes scribbled down in my journal on how to avoid such speedbumps in the future.
But then, you install this new application and suddenly you are a host who keeps unintentionally introducing me to someone I cannot stand. Do you know how tiresome it is to log on to Facebook just to play a harmless game of Scrabulous and stare into the sidebar as you once again suggest I be friends with someone I don’t want to be friends with? Because here’s the thing facebook, if I wanted to be friends with them, I would have added them the first time you suggested it. It’s been months and yet the same name keeps popping up. This is unacceptable.
There are rules here Facebook- there’s protocol to follow! It’s rude to insist I be friends with someone I dislike with the intensity of a supernova. I’d rather take a cheese grater to my eyeball than be his friend. So you see? I’m aware of the fact that we have 7 mutual friends. I’m aware of the fact that he’s in my network. I am also aware that I do not want to be friends with him. So, please- I’m begging you on all that is holy and good (including Scrabulous- the best thing that ever happened to the internet- I’m a 7 letter bingo whore!), shut down the friend suggestion application.
Also, it would be cool if you could stop people from tagging me in photos when both my eyes are closed and/or I look like have had 4 too many martinis.
much love,
brandy
p.s. And if I get one more green patch request, I make go nuclear.
*That might be the creepiest thing I’ve ever typed, but you know you do it too.
