Archive for May, 2010

I Like Cosmos, I Like High Heels, and I Like SATC

The sequel hasn’t officially opened to the public, and yet a lot of people are giving SATC 2 the thumbs down. As my friend James Rocchi puts it, “Sex and the City 2 is what happens when Consumerism, Privilege and Lazy Storytelling bump uglies and have a 142-minute long fake orgasm.”

Even in the feminine circle, the movie is getting negative reviews.

I totally get why there’s so much hate. This second movie looks like they threw caution to the wind and had the four ladies just whoop it up with their designer labels, credit cards, and bottles of champagne. Fun in the desert? Complete disregard for customs in the Middle East? Totally okay, because they’re Carrie Bradshaw, Miranda Hobbes, Charlotte York-Goldenblatt, and Samantha Jones. Or so it seems to be.

As much as it pains me to say it, I am very much looking forward to this movie.

I don’t have HBO. Probably won’t ever get it unless it miraculously becomes included in a programming package with Time Warner (HA!). As a result, I only saw maybe three episodes while the show was actually on air; everything else came to me a couple of years after the final episode premiered thanks to Netflix. With this logic, it makes absolutely no sense for me to get wrapped up in the cult following of high heels, cosmos, and flakey dating habits.

That should technically apply for the show “Six Feet Under” as well, but after watching two episodes at a neighbor’s house, I was completely hooked.

Also, I’ve got several Flame Dame tendencies. When you’ve got a gay uncle on each side of your family and tack on almost three years of sharing an apartment with the man who gets referred to as the “gay ex-husband,” you bet your ass I’ve got materialistic woes.

The irony of SATC is that I didn’t watch it to see who what the girls were doing that week. I watched it mainly to see if Steve Brady would make an appearance (because he shares an uncanny resemblance to my guitar repairman).

Going to see the first movie was kind of like going to a college graduation ceremony: you’ve been waiting for that person to walk the stage after years of discussion on whether or not to go for the doctorate. When it comes, the air is filled with anticipation and you’re looking forward to spending time with friends. At least that’s how I felt. And I had a friend who was going to see it with me. It’d be a great girly afternoon.

The duo suddenly became a party of five. My friend would be accompanied by her mother, another friend, and her friend’s mother. Since the four of them had made plans to do some shopping prior to the movie, it was decided that I would meet up with them at the Promenade in Santa Monica. They went ahead and purchased their tickets online, so I followed suit. Showtime was three-thirty; we would meet up about an hour beforehand so we could at least sit together.

I arrived a little bit early and texted my friend, asking her to call/text me when she arrived. She responded that they were wrapping up and that they should be on their way soon. That worked for me, so I did a little bit of window shopping.

An hour passed. No call, no text. I waited another ten minutes, figuring that they had run a little bit behind and would show up soon.

Ten minutes passed and apparently I’d been ditched.

And I was pissed off.

I was ready to just up and leave. I sent a text to my friend, saying that I was going to go home since I hadn’t heard from her. I also told her that I felt I was being a third wheel.

No apology came back.

Had I not already bought my ticket, I would have definitely left. But twelve dollars isn’t something I can carelessly toss around, and I kind of wanted to see the movie.

I felt horribly awkward. The theater was filled with groups of women who were chatting to each other, and here my single self was sitting in one of the side aisle seats, speaking to no one. But I sat through the entire movie and enjoyed myself. It was enough of a boost to cancel out the dejected feeling from earlier.

My therapist was incredibly proud of me for staying through the movie. And I was kind of proud of myself, too.

As cheesy as it sounds, the SATC movie gave me motivation to go out into a sea of women and feel comfortable enough to get out there without a group of friends. My friend had not been there for me, but I pushed myself beyond my social safety zone and I came out okay.

So badmouth the movie if you will, and if you need to cast stones at my person, I completely understand.

This has been a very wordy post, and if you’ve made it this far, thank you.

Sometimes You Gotta Let It Go

I’m a working girl again (you’re going to be hearing this many, many times), which means I’ve got a little bit of income to spend on not-so-necessary items.

Things like the Elsa Paretti intial pendants at Tiffany. (Do you really have to ask which one?)

I didn’t get the necklace. Tiffany ran out of a lot of the alphabet during Mother’s Day and I have to wait for more to be made. But that’s a post for another day.

However, due to the failure of being able to splurge on one ridiculously expensive item, I figured I’d balance it out by getting formerly expensive items that were now on sale. *cough*Anthropologie*cough*

Fate decided that I wouldn’t buy anything, but chose to throw something from my past in my face instead.

I walked into my old retail employment place at the Grove, just to see if anything caught my eye. No material goods did, but I saw someone I used to work with standing at the cashwrap.

It could have been a happy reunion, but this person in particular was a failed crush.

Actually, it was a little bit more than a crush at the time. Pseudo-dating you might have called it. I was thrilled: a straight guy who was interested in me in the world of retail? Can I get a “SAY WHAT?!”

We did a lot of the subtle things two people do when they’re into each other. I’d sit next to him during the AM meeting. He’d grab my arm when we passed by the clock. I’d try to wake him up in the break room by blowing on his ear. He’d pull me aside at a party to try and sneak in a kiss.

There were problems. He was on the rebound with a kid. I was leaving the world of retail to go into the world of hospitality. Not a whole lot of opportunity to try and make a relationship. We attempted to make one last stab at going on a real date, but it ended up with us awkwardly sitting across the room from each other in his apartment.

The last time I actually spoke to him in person was about two or three years ago. He was [still] working at the same retail location and looked exhausted. I said hello, we chatted for a little bit, and I suggested that we catch up over coffee or something. He agreed, and I reconfirmed that the number logged in my phone was still current.

Once I got home, I sent a text, saying it was good to see him.

The response I got back? “I don’t know who this is.”

Oh well.

I’m going to admit that for a split second, I thought about going up to him to say hello. However, I’ve come to realize that there are certain things you have to pass on, even though there’s that little bit of you tucked away inside that would like to try and at least make things civil.

So I did a quick walkthrough of the Women’s Floor, threw one last glance at him, and then walked out the door.

Sexy Party @ Pavillions

I shouldn’t be allowed in normal grocery stores. I find all kinds of things to make fun of. For example, this:

0521101845a

Oye. How lazy can you get? I mean, really? Bacon in a box?

This one takes the cake:

0521101853b


Normally I’d categorize this under “Engrish,” but it’s not bad enough to place it there. In fact, with a little adjustment, it turns apples into a sexy piece of fruit:

apples comma
Meow.


Thank goodness it’s Bill Foundation adoptions tomorrow. I need to get out more often.

*dust* *dust*

Hello, internet. How are you doing?

Business is picking up at my new place of employment, which means I’m being thrown into a bunch of different projects. This also means I’ve got a lot of fast learning to do on my part, as I have absolutely no previous experience with this:



That’s right. I work with hard-core green people who abide by the rules of the US Green Building Council. It’s the complete opposite of my previous industry.

Other things I’ve been doing:
1. Volunteering with 1.5 (soon to become a solid 2) dog adoption foundations.
2. Saw Ricky Geravis live at the Nokia last weekend for a mere $3. It’s good to have connections.
3. Picked up my ukulele again. It’s been way too long.
4. Planned a weekend trip to NYC to visit some old friends.
5. Going to the gym on a semi-regular basis.

That’s about it for now. I am sorry I’ve been neglecting you, but a girl’s gotta make money to keep this site up and running. (And to pay for the activities I can potentially write about later to keep you entertained. I know you care.)

Engrish Speakers Only

The other night I was at my local Mitsuwa food court, trying to decide on something for dinner. While I was wating for my order to be called, I figured I could get a little bit of grocery shopping in.

It’s a good thing I was extremely hungry, because this bit of Engrish would have killed my appetite:

engrish treats


The little illustration of a creme-filled roll doesn’t make it any better.