Lateshoes

ABC’s new show called INVASION sucks a great big ol’ a-hole. I’m not going to be the most fair judge here because I happened to grow up in the town in which the whole stupid suckfest is set; Homestead, Florida.
But, ya know, I like aliens and that Christopher Walken guy just as much as the next guy but…I just can’t fucking hang. Here are my list of complaints.

1. The entire cast is filled with honkeys. Look, when I graduated from Homestead Sr. High 13 years ago, in 1992…white kids were the minority. After hurricane Andrew and the closure of Homestead Air force base the town’s ethnic ratio tipped even further to where close to 90% of the population is considered a “minority.” Now, I’m not asking for much, but when a television show is set in an actual town, you would think they would try just a little to stay true to that town. I mean, to have an entirely white cast in any setting these days seems racist and ignorant…but, even more so in this specific circumstance. In the two episodes that I’ve seen there have only been two walk-on African American characters and while the main “park ranger” guy can speak spanish and might possibly be Cuban, he looks like the biggest honkey and has no accent whatsoever.

2. The fucking landscape couldn’t look less like Florida much less Homestead or any of the surrounding towns. Homestead isn’t a fucking back-woods, hillbilly swamp (well, most of it isn’t). There are stores and shopping facilities and lots and lots of houses. In the last episode Larkin (one of the dumbest character names ever) drives to Cutler Ridge (a pretty heavily populated area in real life…with like a big old 80′s mall and everything) and it looks like she just drove to Deliverance-town to pick up Ned Beatty and Burt Reynolds. It’s so fucking irritating. It’s like they’re just picking names of towns off of a map without any actual knowledge of the place. Gah!

3. In the pilot, immediately following the “hurricane” all of the main (and white) characters could just drive all over the place…back and forth over downed power lines and trees I’m assuming.

4. There’s no tension. We already know that Christopher Walken-guy is an alien and that he’s turned the kid’s mom into an alien. All of the white hats and black hats are so obvious. Where’s the fun in that? You don’t have to figure anything out.

5. I do have a theory that the aliens turned everyone in town white during the hurricane…that would actually be a good twist, I should write ABC directly.

6. Homestead “hospital?” ….whatever. So, this town without stores or street lights has a hospital, huh? When Miami has like 15 hospitals just 20 minutes away? ….okay.

I watched Alias last night against my better judgement and was treated to Jennifer Garner endlessly furrowing her enormous brow and Michael Vartan getting Sonny Corlione’s into hamburger but still living long enough (and attractively enough) to tell Syd that he loves her before he flatlines and they pull the sheet over his very pretty head.
…yeah, I still don’t care.

I realize that he’s not very fuzzy or nice looking, but he kind of reminds me of Nicodemus from the Secret of NIMH.
He kind of looks like Stanley with no fur.

My back is still aching and yesterday (after not being so much as looked at by a bee in 25 years) I was stung. Now, I’m allergic to bees, so at first I thought I was going to die. Luckily, after punching the buzzing culprit out from under my wool skirt, I realized it was a Yellow Jacket and hoped for the best. It swelled and it pinched my skin. It created and nasty, rock-hard, feverish welt on my thigh, which has since mellowed into a dull, nagging, itchy blotch.

Wow. Not really sure what was up with the big type in that last post. I swear I’m not yelling.

The wedding was great. The honeymoon was fun. My relationship is stronger than ever. So, why, oh why am I in a rut?
It feels exactly like finishing Harry Potter and realizing it’s going to take that silly bitch another three years to crank out the finale.
I think it’s time to figure out What I’m going to do with my life.
It just seems like the time. It has to be the time, right? I mean, how can I be 31 and still not know…not have any clue what I want to do. The only thing I know for sure is that “order monkey” cannot be my career destiny.
So, how does one go about picking their life’s work? How do you find out what you really want to do? Then of course, how do you go about making it happen?
I’ve considered going back to school and doing the “masters/doc” thing…but, deep down I think I’m hoping something magical and inspiring (and money-giving) will just fall in my lap…or at least cross my path and give me a nudge in the right direction.

Alright, so either the cosmos thinks it’s funny to rub my oldie-ness in my face or someone has a voodoo doll of me.
I strained my lower back muscles somehow and as a result it takes me 25 minutes to stand in the upright position and about 40 more to force myself back into “sit.”
LAME.

My brother sent me some more wedding pictures. You can see them here. They’re just at the end of the last batch because I was too lazy to put them in order.

I love Hair, okay. There. I’ve said it. I watched the movie about 15 years ago with my mom and I’ve loved it ever since. I know, almost every word to every song. I love the original Broadway soundtrack for it’s tinny-ness and relevance and I love the film soundtrack for it’s funkiness and energy. (And very specifically for it’s homo-hilarious take on “White Boys”) I know, for instance, if I’m listening to the Broadway soundtrack that when the title track reaches, “My hair like Jesus wore it, Halleluja! I adore it. Halleluja! Mary loved her son…” that the next line, “Why don’t my mother love me?” will be stretched out and slower.
I know that though Beverly D’angelo has extremely pleasant boobies, she doesn’t quite have the pipes to sing the “Good morning Sunshine” song to my satisfaction.

I used to own the video and both soundtracks, but in a moment of supreme idiocy, I got rid of all of them. (I probably had to pay rent or buy groceries or something lame like that).

Last night Lars came to the rescue in the form of one of my many birthday presents. He got me the DVD. I made him watch it immidiately, precluded by the usual speech I give when I’m about to share this movie with someone. “Okay, Treat Williams looks soooo nasty. His hair is totally repulsive, but I swear by the end you will want to (in Lars’ case) totally gay out with him.”

When Tawnya and I were first friends (and I could still wear pants without feeling like a pig in a blanket) I used to own these really awesome jeans. I wore them every day and rarely washed them. They were filthy and I loved them. We called them the Treat Williams pants.

Anyway, by the end Lars conceded that, yes, Treat looks totally sweet, but that he still wouldn’t be all gay with him….but, if that’s true then why did he freeze-frame and zoom in on his ding-dong during the skinny dipping scene?