MY BLOODY VALENTINE
BE MINE.
Perhaps the most ridiculously blown out of proportion day of the year (yes, even more than New Year's Eve and Arbor Day) is upon us. But you know what...that's all I have to say about it. No bitter rants to be found here. Because I'm not bitter. I barely even noticed today was That Day. Actually, when I woke up, as I slipped into my brown Isotoner slippers, the first thought in my head was to title today's blog MY BLOODY VALENTINE. But it was a funny thought, not a seething with rage, angry one. That thought stemmed from recalling the movie of the same name. You know, the cheaply made, poorly received slasher flick from February of 1981. I actually thought it was released in '82, but after becoming obsessed with researching this long-forgotten film, I naturally googled it, and learned that it has now been 25 years to the week since its release. THIS got me thinking of my old house, grammar school, and the long shuttered Warner Theater, which in turn got me thinking of my movie theater obsession of my youth. Getting the idea of how my mind works? Yes, I was obsessed with movies...but in the typically twisted form of mine, not really watching them, but instead, RUNNING one. I turned my back hall into a box office, complete with "Cinema 1" and "Cinema 2" signs, with torn from the paper movie advertisements identifying which films were showing. I made up signs for showtimes and admission prices, usually closely in-sync with the Warner's. I recall when it was $4 for adults and $2 for children and seniors. I have a faint memory of it being even cheaper, like $3.50, but can't say for sure. I was especially fascinated with the term "HELD OVER." This meant, to me, that a film was an event, a big hit, something to talk about. Oh, and I can't forget the terribly exciting "coming soon" or "starts Friday." You could often find me in my back hall...alone...with my movie signs. Straight out of "Angela's Ashes," isn't it? Oh, and I canNOT forget the MOST bizarre thing...I loved to stand a block away from the Warner Theater, particularly on opening night Fridays, to see how long the lines would get for the 7:30pm show. That's right...i'd stand there, just watching the line grow, YEARNING for it to snake around the corner, thus signifying that Something Big was doin' in our little burg! And I wonder why I had trouble fitting in with the blue-collar kiddies in town? Yes, sir...that entire paragraph just from a random thought upon waking of a bad movie released a quarter century ago this week.
My V Day was actually rather productive and inspiring. I REALLY began tackling those ungodly high piles of papers/articles/bills...which led to a lot of READING of said articles at long last. I found it especially amsuing that I had a big article on New Year's Resolutions...from last year. But I read it finally...and it only further cemented my snowballing, laser-like focus on COMPLETELY OVERHAULING my life. My favorite tip, short and simple...GET STARTED. The first step can create a momentum that will keep you going until the last. My other faves...1) break projects into small, manageable steps, 2) don't think everything will be accomplished smoothly & without bumps in the road, and 3) my favorite, REWARD YOURSELF when tasks are accomplished to add further incentive. You know, with ice cream or a pricy latte or something. Jesus, I really sound like Oprah.
Speaking of Oprah, what the fuck was with Dr. Phil's Valentine's Day CBS special with Paula Adbul sobbing about her inability to snag a man? Jesus, what a waste of time. I fucking hate Dr. Phil. With a passion. I MAY hate his best-selling author (but only because of daddy, of course) of a son even more. The same son who's engaged to a Playboy playmate. You KNOW this will fail, and it can't come soon enough for me. And I PRAY the fallout is deeply messy, perverse, and riddled with unspeakable humiliation for the entire McGraw clan. Asswipes.
In yet another "what the fuck!??!" moment, I found myself randomly coming upon the 130th Annual Westminster Dog Show from MSG. Ok, I loooooooooooooove dogs. LOVE them. Can't get enough of them. But WHO is going to MSG, paying God knows what admission, to watch dogs...well, what DO they do? Seems to me some masculine lady races back and forth with each dog for several hours. On TV, it's kinda fun and cute...for like 20 minutes, 'cause the doggies are up close and the top-notch graphics dept. clearly labels each dog's background. But to sit in an arena? To make a TRIP to the arena? To sit for hours? What the FUCK is the point?! These dogs just WALK. No tricks. No racing. No hot-yet-hilarious dog sex action. JUST walking. And I kept thinking of MY Precious Baby Furball. She'd NEVER gracefully walk. She'd probably have escaped from her leash, run in circles, stopped to take a shit, vomited, lapped the vomit right back up, before finally coming to a rest, whereupon she'd plop down and lick her twat. Yes, that's what MY Beloved Baby Furball would've done. Now THAT'S Best In Show!!
Today's random thoughts...
**Came upon EVITA tonight on cable. Only musical i've ever seen in my life. Madonna acts well in it, dammit. She is NOT as bad as They make her out to be.
**Came upon both Rick Springfield and New Edition on VH1 Classics. Rick has aged HORRIBLY. He looks like The Crypt Keeper now on GENERAL HOSPITAL. Yes, I watch GH. But that's another blog. Fuck off. As for New Edition, it was "Mr. Telephone Man," and the entire video was shot in NYC...in like '85. I LOVE seeing old footage of NYC. It's just so surreal to me, knowing i'm so often on those same streets now. There's a longer, rather melancholy thought here, again, on the passage of time. But not in the mood. I'll just say...there was a K train?!
And i'm done. 2:38am. AND TO ALL A GOOD NIGHT...
Perhaps the most ridiculously blown out of proportion day of the year (yes, even more than New Year's Eve and Arbor Day) is upon us. But you know what...that's all I have to say about it. No bitter rants to be found here. Because I'm not bitter. I barely even noticed today was That Day. Actually, when I woke up, as I slipped into my brown Isotoner slippers, the first thought in my head was to title today's blog MY BLOODY VALENTINE. But it was a funny thought, not a seething with rage, angry one. That thought stemmed from recalling the movie of the same name. You know, the cheaply made, poorly received slasher flick from February of 1981. I actually thought it was released in '82, but after becoming obsessed with researching this long-forgotten film, I naturally googled it, and learned that it has now been 25 years to the week since its release. THIS got me thinking of my old house, grammar school, and the long shuttered Warner Theater, which in turn got me thinking of my movie theater obsession of my youth. Getting the idea of how my mind works? Yes, I was obsessed with movies...but in the typically twisted form of mine, not really watching them, but instead, RUNNING one. I turned my back hall into a box office, complete with "Cinema 1" and "Cinema 2" signs, with torn from the paper movie advertisements identifying which films were showing. I made up signs for showtimes and admission prices, usually closely in-sync with the Warner's. I recall when it was $4 for adults and $2 for children and seniors. I have a faint memory of it being even cheaper, like $3.50, but can't say for sure. I was especially fascinated with the term "HELD OVER." This meant, to me, that a film was an event, a big hit, something to talk about. Oh, and I can't forget the terribly exciting "coming soon" or "starts Friday." You could often find me in my back hall...alone...with my movie signs. Straight out of "Angela's Ashes," isn't it? Oh, and I canNOT forget the MOST bizarre thing...I loved to stand a block away from the Warner Theater, particularly on opening night Fridays, to see how long the lines would get for the 7:30pm show. That's right...i'd stand there, just watching the line grow, YEARNING for it to snake around the corner, thus signifying that Something Big was doin' in our little burg! And I wonder why I had trouble fitting in with the blue-collar kiddies in town? Yes, sir...that entire paragraph just from a random thought upon waking of a bad movie released a quarter century ago this week.
My V Day was actually rather productive and inspiring. I REALLY began tackling those ungodly high piles of papers/articles/bills...which led to a lot of READING of said articles at long last. I found it especially amsuing that I had a big article on New Year's Resolutions...from last year. But I read it finally...and it only further cemented my snowballing, laser-like focus on COMPLETELY OVERHAULING my life. My favorite tip, short and simple...GET STARTED. The first step can create a momentum that will keep you going until the last. My other faves...1) break projects into small, manageable steps, 2) don't think everything will be accomplished smoothly & without bumps in the road, and 3) my favorite, REWARD YOURSELF when tasks are accomplished to add further incentive. You know, with ice cream or a pricy latte or something. Jesus, I really sound like Oprah.
Speaking of Oprah, what the fuck was with Dr. Phil's Valentine's Day CBS special with Paula Adbul sobbing about her inability to snag a man? Jesus, what a waste of time. I fucking hate Dr. Phil. With a passion. I MAY hate his best-selling author (but only because of daddy, of course) of a son even more. The same son who's engaged to a Playboy playmate. You KNOW this will fail, and it can't come soon enough for me. And I PRAY the fallout is deeply messy, perverse, and riddled with unspeakable humiliation for the entire McGraw clan. Asswipes.
In yet another "what the fuck!??!" moment, I found myself randomly coming upon the 130th Annual Westminster Dog Show from MSG. Ok, I loooooooooooooove dogs. LOVE them. Can't get enough of them. But WHO is going to MSG, paying God knows what admission, to watch dogs...well, what DO they do? Seems to me some masculine lady races back and forth with each dog for several hours. On TV, it's kinda fun and cute...for like 20 minutes, 'cause the doggies are up close and the top-notch graphics dept. clearly labels each dog's background. But to sit in an arena? To make a TRIP to the arena? To sit for hours? What the FUCK is the point?! These dogs just WALK. No tricks. No racing. No hot-yet-hilarious dog sex action. JUST walking. And I kept thinking of MY Precious Baby Furball. She'd NEVER gracefully walk. She'd probably have escaped from her leash, run in circles, stopped to take a shit, vomited, lapped the vomit right back up, before finally coming to a rest, whereupon she'd plop down and lick her twat. Yes, that's what MY Beloved Baby Furball would've done. Now THAT'S Best In Show!!
Today's random thoughts...
**Came upon EVITA tonight on cable. Only musical i've ever seen in my life. Madonna acts well in it, dammit. She is NOT as bad as They make her out to be.
**Came upon both Rick Springfield and New Edition on VH1 Classics. Rick has aged HORRIBLY. He looks like The Crypt Keeper now on GENERAL HOSPITAL. Yes, I watch GH. But that's another blog. Fuck off. As for New Edition, it was "Mr. Telephone Man," and the entire video was shot in NYC...in like '85. I LOVE seeing old footage of NYC. It's just so surreal to me, knowing i'm so often on those same streets now. There's a longer, rather melancholy thought here, again, on the passage of time. But not in the mood. I'll just say...there was a K train?!
And i'm done. 2:38am. AND TO ALL A GOOD NIGHT...
posted by Gregoire at 10:12 PM
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