Straight to Hell, Do Not Pass Go

These are troubled times. The US and overseas economies are hanging on by their collective fingernails, the Presidential election is sliding into a morass of name-calling and back-stabbing, and Orlando Bloom is still galavanting around saving orphans and not making any new movies. Troubled times, I say.

But, the worst sign of all, a true omen of the impending apocalypse, a "bend over and kiss your ass good-bye" harbinger if there ever was one:

This movie was #1 in the US box office last weekend. Ouch, I'm in actual physical pain. Seriously. Real. Physical. Pain. We can't afford a tank of gas, but we can afford tickets to watch talking dogs? Really? I don't want to ruin the movie for anyone, but those dogs can't really talk. What's next? A full-length feature film starring the Aflac duck? At least that would be entertaining because that duck can really talk. Seriously.

Image from: http://3disneyboys.files.wordpress.com/2008/04/beverly_hills_chihuahua.jpg

Busy Women

During my trip to Savannah last month, I picked up a free publication that looked intriguing. It was "The Little Black Book for Every Busy Woman" (emphasis in original). Truth be told, it was my first night in the city and I'd ventured to a neighborhood brew pub for dinner. As I finished my meal, a thunderstorm rolled into town, so I decided to belly up to the bar and wait out the storm. Looking around for something to keep me occupied, I picked up the "Little Black Book." So, when I say the publication was "intriguing," I mean that in the "stranded by the weather, in a bar alone with nothing else to read" sense.

The Little Black Book is a free 33-page pamphlet with suggestions for Arts & Leisure, Business & Finance, Dining & Entertainment, Education & Organizations, Hair & Skin Care, Health, Home Essentials, Weddings, and a Calendar of Events. Apparently, if you are a busy woman, you are busy in many, many different ways. Not only does the pamphlet highlight local events, it also spotlights local businesses who are kind enough to pay for advertising (thus explaining how this little gem can be free.)

So, what's in the Little Black Book? Well, under Arts and Leisure, there's an ad for Savannah Together, where they'll help the busy woman find the man or woman of her dreams. They have an 80% success rate. Tellingly, they do not divulge the total number. Ever notice that? Maybe they've only helped 8 people. Yes, in the immortal words of Air Supply, that's "8 less lonely people in the world," but still it's only 8. And if you're really busy, do you really have time for their personalized and confidential screening?

Also in Arts & Leisure: The 5th Annual Cruise for Critters. That's right, seems the busy woman is never too busy to go on a 3-hour sightseeing cruise. Wonder if they have time to be stranded on a deserted island with "Gilligan, the Skipper too. The Millionaire, and his wife, The movie star, the professor and MaryAnn." Although the cruise raises money for the local Pet Rescue, one should note that pets are not allowed on the cruise. How rude.

If a pet-free pet cruise isn't for you, there's WaterHorse photography, specializing in equine photography. Because the busy woman apparently has lots of money. And she's never too busy to own and keep a horse, and then pay a professional photographer to take pictures of her friend, Flicka.

In Business & Finance, there's the predictable ads for investment services. One asks, "Wouldn't it be nice to have your investments aligned with your values?" Um, no. I don't need to invest any more money in Johnny Depp and Orlando Bloom paraphrenalia.

Moving ahead, the only service advertised under Health is "Breast Imaging." No, not Breast Imagining, that's in the busy man's guide. No, this service detects breast cancer. I'm all for detecting and treating breast cancer, but don't busy women have other health concerns? Seriously. There are 4 listings under "Weddings," and only one under "Health." If this is what busy is, I don't want any part of it.

After all the spotlighted businesses, we really get to the good part. The Busy Woman of the Year 2008 Award. This year's winner runs a local child advocacy center, went to Ground Zero after the attacks on 9/11, raised 2 children, married twice, and became a foster parent. As the recipient of the Busy Woman of the Year Award, she wins a fashionable handbag, a new haircut, a trip to a spa, a one-night stay in one of the city's mid-range hotels, and some fake eyelashes and a fragrant candle. No, I'm not making up those last two items. Good for her! Way to go!

I have to say that there are some contests that I'd like to win. Don't get me wrong, I stay busy. But I don't want to be known as the "busiest woman of the year," and I certainly don't want to compete to be the busiest woman of the year. Biggest Slack-Ass of the Year - now there's a contest I can get behind (so to speak), especially if the winner gets to have dinner with Johnny Depp and/or Orlando Bloom. Fake eyelashes and fragrant candles are poor, poor substitutes.

The last few pages of the pamphlet are calendar pages, where the busy woman can note "anniversaries, birthdays, special events and me time." Apparently, when you're really busy, you have to schedule "me time." Lord, don't ever let me be that busy.

If you're not already busy enough, the calendar comes with some dates already filled out with charity events and networking opportunities, so you can either feel like you're not already busy enough, or you can feel really guilty because you're not going to the "Pink Tea Celebrate Life Breast Cancer Awareness Event."

The calendar also includes lesser-known "holidays." While I'm not particularly interested in celebrating "Cheer Up the Lonely Day," I could work a celebration of "Chocolate Day" into my busy schedule. Likewise, I'm happy to find time for "Lazy Day" and "National Ice Cream Sandwich Day." "Global Forgiveness Day" and "National Trail Mix Day" - not so much.

I thought about celebrating "Fight Procrastination Day" this Friday, but I think I'll put it off.

Guess who's writing a dissertation

Today, as I wasted some time with celebrity gossip (don't judge!), I came across this snippet from Showbiz Spy:

Hollywood heartthrob Orlando Bloom has been told to step his personal hygiene — because his on-again, off-again girlfriend Miranda Kerr thinks he’s “too smelly”. “Miranda thinks Orlando is too smelly,” says a source close to the couple. “Recently, she asked him if he could wash his clothes and perhaps shower more often.”

When the 31-year-old isn’t filming his latest Hollywood blockbuster, he “goes days without washing his clothes,” the source tells Star magazine. “He’ll wear the same jeans for a week before he throws them in the washer. Same goes for his sweaters, T-shirts and socks.” And the ‘Pirates of The Caribbean’ star makes matter worse — by allowing his pet pooch Sidi sleep in his bed and slobber all over him. Since Victoria’s Secret model Miranda, 24, told him to clean up his act, Orlando has been trying. But, says the source, he’s told friends “he doesn’t know if this relationship will last.”

OK, clearly this Miranda person has totally unrealistic expectations. She actually expects him to shower and change his clothes everyday? C'mon. And, are we really supposed to believe that he does his own laundry? How disappointing.

There can only be 2 explanations for his behavior:
1) He's trying to convince everyone that he is a man (Dating supermodel - check. Stinking - check, check) OR
2) He's writing a dissertation.

I'm pretty sure it's option #2. Truth be told, if I wasn't teaching this semester, I'd sit at home and stink, too. The dissertation theory also explains Bloom's lackluster performance in Pirates of the Caribbean, Part 3. I can certainly sympathize - having to perform at a job to pay the bills while you're completely exhausted and distracted by something that has yet to pay off. At least he had multiple takes, unlike my lectures in front of the classroom. No blooper reel on the DVD Box Set from my class.

Life's Little Successes

I recently read a review of "In Celebration," a play that opened on London's West Side. The reviewer makes the following comment about Orlando Bloom's performance: "It's not a challenging role but he remembers his lines and doesn't bump into the furniture." On the surface, this may seem like a slap in the face, but after careful consideration, I've decided that the reviewer may be on to something. Maybe we expect too much from ourselves. Maybe, as we climb into bed at night, we shouldn't focus on what we didn't do, but instead we should pat ourselves on the back if we "remembered our lines and didn't bump into the furniture."

Case in point: Yesterday, I went to my first yoga class. Although I am extremely uncoordinated, I managed to keep up with the instructor, except a few times when she was in downward facing dog, and I was still in high push up position. I learned that it's an easy mistake to correct, just stick your butt straight into the air. If only all of life's mistakes were this easy to correct, or could be remedied with this solution.

I stayed right with the instructor as she lifted her leg while in downward facing dog. I even managed not to giggle. I find that it's hard to giggle when you can't breathe. I stayed right with her as we literally tied ourselves into tight little balls. However, despite my growing confidence, I stopped short of balancing on my hands while tied up in a ball. I saw her do it and thought, "I thought I'd have to buy tickets to Cirque de Soliel to see that kind of thing." The most amazing part of this whole display came when she continued to instruct, all the while balanced on her hands, tied in a tight little ball. "Do what's comfortable for you but don't limit yourselves," she said in the same soothing voice, straight into the floor, "Try to create space between your rib cage and your pelvis. Settle into the stretch." I thought, "If I settle any more, you're going to need to call the paramedics to untie me." Then, just as amazingly, she uncoiled in a slow fluid motion, not like a spring that's been released, which was my uncoiling strategy. I'm happy to report that I did not say "Boiiing!"

Now, I could beat myself up about not even trying to balance on my hands while tied in a ball, or my ungraceful "release." But, I'm not going to do that. Instead, I'm going to remember that for the majority of the class, I "remembered my lines and didn't bump into the furniture." It helped that there wasn't any furniture - but hey, it's a metaphor. Work with me.

So, I offer this advice - focus on the little successes in the day. If Orlando Bloom isn't enough inspiration, think of the woman in yesterday's blotter. Seems she was run over by her own truck. She stopped the truck and got out. The truck started moving and as she tried to get back in, she fell. Under the truck. She was taken to an area hospital and treated for unspecified injuries.

As you climb into bed tonight, don't think about all the things you didn't do, but instead drift blissfully to sleep thinking, "Sure, I didn't do those things, but I wasn't run down by my own vehicle." Unless you were. In which case, I'm sorry.

Elizabethtown and Garden State

I’ve decided to write a review of two movies: Elizabethtown and Garden State. I wouldn’t be the first person to suggest that these are not two movies, but the same movie with different casts and different settings. The storyline is the same: emotionally-numb boy returns to family’s home because a parent has died, boy meets quirky girl who “reawakens his spirit”, boy goes on a “journey” (catch word for “learning an obvious life lesson that the rest of us learn without a lot of hoopla”), boy resolves everything that’s wrong with his life, boy ends up with quirky girl. The main difference between the movies is that Orlando Bloom is much better looking than Zach Braff, and Garden State has some genuinely funny moments.

Here’s what I want to say about these movies: they seem to be offering a social statement about a larger non-problem in US society, namely, the angst of the mid-late 20 year old male. Poor Andrew Largeman (Braff) and Drew Baylor (Bloom) can’t get their lives together. Braff’s character medicates himself to forget his “loser-ness” and Bloom’s character deals with a colossal failure at work by throwing away all of his belongings (never breaking a sweat, by the way) and designing a ridiculously complicated suicide machine using a kitchen knife and an exercise bike. Then, a parent dies. Each character returns home, New Jersey in Braff’s case and Kentucky in Bloom’s case. I think we can all agree that Bloom gets the better end of this deal. No one (except Bruce Springsteen) wants to go to New Jersey, and the food and whiskey are better in Kentucky. And, Bloom is still much better looking.

In each case, both characters meet quirky girls who are “totally present,” code for experiencing every day without plans for the next. Natalie Portman’s Samantha pulls Braff out of his funk, and Kirsten Dunst’s Claire does the same for Bloom. Neither girl has a career, neither girl has any ambitious plan of their own. So, how do these underachieving miracle workers help? Well, they listen to the ramblings of these poor, angst-ridden young men and respond with complete non-sequitors, or pithy statements like, “Well, you failed. You failed, you failed, you failed, you failed. So what?”

What can we learn from this? Well, first, it seems no one is listening to angst-ridden 20-something year-old boys, if they turn to these complete strangers for comfort. You know why no one else is listening? Because these guys are BORING! And, they’re pathetic! “Oh, poor me, I can’t get my life together. Why can’t I get my life together? Why didn’t I have a good relationship with my dad? Why don’t I have any real friends? Where’s the instant success I was promised? Why is life so haaarrrddd?”

But, wait, I stand corrected. Someone is listening to these boys. Hell, I watched both movies so now I’ve listened to them. But, I would imagine the primary audience for these movies is adolescent girls. What’s the message for them? In a nutshell, your job is to listen, and be equal parts goofy and unambitious. If you can do these things, you’ll be a suitable muse for your angst-ridden (very good looking) boyfriend. As a result, he’ll come to rely on you for all of his happiness, since he’s completely incapable of dealing with his own problems without your cheerful insights into his psyche. If you think he’s going to help you do anything with your life, ha! Joke’s on you! You’re supposed to be fulfilled because you’ve cured this guy, and he’s professed his love for you. That’s it. Game over. You win. Except you’re really not any better off. Well, you might get to make out with Orlando Bloom, but don’t pay any attention to that. Just start thinking of a way to top the map/scrapbook with soundtrack project (see E’town), because if you can’t, your guy is right back where you found him, wallowing in unfounded self-pity.

All of this is, of course, very gendered. What if you’re an ambitious, cynical, angst-ridden 20-something woman? Well, there’s no way that you’re supposed to go find some quirky, unambitious, “totally present” boy. No, you’re supposed to find Mr. Has-His-Shit-Together. The implication is that if Mr. Angst meets Ms. Quirky, they won’t end up in a tent, living on Coors and cereal. But, if Ms. Angst meets Mr. Quirky, only bad things can happen. Because quirky girls are charming, but quirky boys are lazy and dangerous.

Now, a word about the soundtracks. Every review mentions the soundtracks. Cameron Crowe personally selected the tunes for E’town and I don’t know who found the dirges in Garden State. At least E’town has a couple of upbeat (relatively) tunes. No wonder these people are depressed. A little Abba goes a long way, folks.