Moth-Related Violence

Hobo with a Shotgun

2011-07-22T19:44:00.000-07:00

I am getting "Hobo With a Shotgun" from Netflix.

Chris recommended it. When I asked what it was about he said "A hobo with a shotgun."

The thing is, I'm pretty sure I can visualize this movie without seeing it.

Actually, it sounds okay.

Cool Breeze Pool Hall

2011-07-11T22:38:00.000-07:00

When Shayla and I were about 15, we learned something very important.

You could get your mom to drop you off at the mall, and then run across the highway to the Cool Breeze Pool Hall.

The Cool Breeze Pool Hall was full of the older, wiser men we wanted to date. We knew that our innate maturity would endear us to them.

While perhaps our bodies were fifteen years old, our hearts and minds were much older and able to handle mature matters.

We knew soon we would be recognized as women of the world, able to hold our own under any circumstance, ready for any eligible man who might decide he was ready for a real woman.

Unfortunately, all the men there were too blinded by society to see that we were diamonds, shining with all the attributes of a woman of older years.

BFF 4ever: Adolescent Adventures, Part 2

2011-07-02T19:20:00.000-07:00

One thing Shayla and I enjoyed- as did most teenage girls- was contacting spirits in the beyond, using our Ouija board.

Sometimes the encounters were creepy. Sometimes they were enlightening. And sometimes they just didn't make much sense in general.

Some say that playing with a Ouija board is an innocent game, but know that they speak ignorant lies. It is dangerous to contact The Beyond, and can cause much discord and violence.

Jacob obviously left in disgust, because we never could contact him again. I left a toasted bagel on a plate in the kitchen overnight, and it was gone the next day, but Shayla in her naivete insisted it had been the cat.

BFF 4ever: Adolescent Adventures, Part 1

2011-06-23T18:53:00.000-07:00

Part 1 is where we are contacted by our very first online pervert (using AOL dial-up.)

We enjoyed ourselves immensely.

BFF 4ever: The Rebirth of BFF!!

2011-06-19T18:47:00.000-07:00

Right. So I realize it's been forever since I've posted. But on the bright side, I can now formulate a null and alternate hypothesis, and calculate the P-value, for everything. EVERYTHING.

Anyway, when we last left our heroines, I had gone all metal...

And Shayla had fallen in with a very popular, high-achieving crowd, and I'd foreshadowed that bad things were to come.

Well, they came.

And then, Shayla was alone.

Miserable and furious, Shayla decided to get revenge the only way she knew how...

Fed up, the girls went to a guidance counselor. She then performed a very sensitive and meaningful intervention.

A couple of weeks after, I was hanging around outside the school and saw Shayla, crying.

The whole story came out.

I had very little tolerance for popular girls.

I also had very little tolerance for being 13.

I expected Shayla to start crying again, or defend them. But she surprised me.

I was impressed by Shayla's nihilism.

And thus, a friendship was reborn.

On a side note, one of the popular girls won the presidency of our freshman year class the next year, by quoting Smashing Pumpkins in her speech. Her hair was dyed purple, and you could totally see her matching purple bra.

She was wearing blue fingernail polish.

Statistically, Dinosaurs Do Many Things

2011-04-25T21:55:00.000-07:00

I haven't been updating the blog lately. I'm taking this statistics class and it's all I can think about. Or more like, it's all I have time to think about. It's 5 credits and I'm working full time.

And then to top it all off, my cousin Joe sends me something about this great comic strip that uses dinosaurs and how I should use dinosaurs.

I'm not sure that actually helped anything.

It would be satisfying if the dinosaur ate up all the statistics...

And then ate Joe.

Then I thought maybe it could shoot fire from its mouth like Godzilla and burn Tokyo.

But it may just be vomiting Technicolor Kool-aid.

I shouldn't stereotype my dinosaur. It could be an intellectual.

And then it could take my statistics exam for me...

And then eat all my enemies.

Yeah. It's that kind of day. A my-dinosaur-of-revenge-won't-even-destroy-dairy kind of day.

BFF 4ever!

2011-04-12T09:42:00.000-07:00

Part 4: Transition

Soon a girl named Anna, who had been my friend in first and second grade, befriended Shayla and they both started being mean to me.

What I didn't realize at the time was that Anna was also being mean to Shayla in private- even meaner than me. Shayla was too scared of her to fight back.

One day, they called me up with astonishingly helpful news.

I didn't particularly like John, but I figured a boyfriend I didn't like was better than no boyfriend.

I reeeeally should have seen it coming.

I resolved never to speak to either of them again.

Later that year, Anna disappeared suddenly. I found out later she had tried to kill herself by drinking a bottle of window cleaner.

We entered junior high. At first, I was no more popular in junior high than I was in grade school.

However, I soon discovered the secret to junior high popularity: Anorexia.

At the end of 8th grade, I fell in with the heavy metal crowd. Everyone I didn't like was scared of my friends. The rest of junior high was a breeze.

Shayla drifted around a bit and eventually fell in with a group of reasonably smart, popular, and pretty-but-not-slutty girls.They all dressed alike and took the same classes and did everything together. I found them sickening.

But as Yeats once wrote about popular girls, "Things fall apart, the center cannot hold..."

Things were about to get bad for Shayla.

But despite our different spheres, fate was conspiring to bring us together again...

BFF 4ever!

2011-04-03T12:37:00.000-07:00

Part 2: In which love and hate walk hand in hand

Shayla and I became "Best Friends" because we really had no other options.

Soon our "friendship" had morphed into mutual cruelty.

But, you know, better a mean friend than no friend.

I was jealous of Shayla because her family was rich and she wore expensive clothes. Expensive clothes were really a big deal in our part of Connecticut.

Ironically, the boy who teased me the most about this was from India. Or maybe that's not so ironic.

Shayla was jealous of me because my house(s) didn't have a room full of glassy-eyed, staring dolls. Her mom collected dolls.

One activity we really enjoyed was prank-calling. Shayla was a wizard.

Me, not so much.

But still, it was good to have a friend to call my own.

BFF 4ever!

2011-03-26T11:40:00.000-07:00

Part 1: Unpromising Beginnings

I met Shayla in third grade by the jungle gym. She had just moved to town, and I had been at my elementary school for what already felt like forever.

We both were really good in class and we both needed braces. Shayla was very timid and I was very obnoxious. Hence, we were both reeeeeeeeeeeeally unpopular.

Shayla was still kind of shellshocked.

Both of us would have loved a more popular friend, but we were really each other's last and only option.

We tried to connect.

We weren't exactly made for each other.

Nevertheless, we became BFFs out of self-defense. And thus a beautiful friendship was formed.

LITTLE WOMEN

2011-03-20T11:33:00.000-07:00

I read "Little Women" a lot when I was a kid. I can kind of chart my development by which character I wanted to be.

First, I wanted to be Meg.

Then Amy...

And finally Jo.

I never did want to be Beth. All she got to do was play the piano and die.

She did get to have kittens, I suppose.

I might have wanted to be Beth if she died in a more exciting way.

Oh well.

"BUT YOU DON'T LOOK JEWISH!"

2011-03-13T11:41:00.000-07:00

Apparently I don't look Jewish.

This has been told to me in different ways.

Some people seem kind of congratulatory.

Others seem suspicious, like I am not telling the truth.

Some get angry, like I have sneakily formulated my unJewish looks just to annoy them.

And some get freaked out, like oh my god, they're everywhere.

Of course, these aren't the only responses I get from people when they find out I'm Jewish. There are much, much weirder ones.

I guess it was a nice sentiment.

This happened when I was working a quit-smoking line. Apparently I don't sound Jewish either.

My cousin had an even weirder encounter...

Twenty minutes later....

Of course, I have it easy, since I only seem to have bizarre encounters. My older relatives and friends had things much harder.

My cousin, who's now in his 70s, had trouble finding an engineering program that was accepting Jews.

He did become very wealthy and the house in Connecticut is gorgeous. He actually did sleep in Marilyn Monroe's bed once, but she wasn't there. It's a long story.

And then this kept happening to my friend's mom...

... but what can you expect from Texas?

Anyway, I've come up with a guide for Jewish women who want to look more Jewish... because really, sometimes when people tell me I don't "look Jewish", I think they're expecting something like this:

THE PLAN, PART 4: THE PRESENT DAY

2011-03-04T21:38:00.000-08:00

So things didn't really turn out like I intended...

Sorry Mom.

Whew, okay, that went on forever. On to topics other than my failure to procreate! Coming up next week: "But You Don't Look Jewish!"

THE PLAN, PART 3: THE MID-TWENTIES

2011-02-26T13:28:00.000-08:00

In my twenties, I realized some of my prior goals had been a bit unrealistic.

I still wanted kids- I just had to make sure that everything in my life was exactly perfectly perfect before I had them. I figured this would happen by age 32.

My perfect career would make me rich enough to hire help for taking care of the baby, because I really hate not getting enough sleep.

My husband would be not only the perfect husband, but the perfect father.

My children would be extra-smart, extra-attractive, and most importantly, never sick.

When they became teenagers, there would be rules, but they would respect them because they respected me.

So what actually ended up happening? Join us next week for the shattering conclusion to this cliffhanger, THE PLAN, PART FOUR: CURRENT DAY

THE PLAN, PART 2: THE TEENAGE YEARS

2011-02-19T11:30:00.000-08:00

As I got later into my teen years, I realized my prior dream had been a tad unrealistic.

I realized I was not going to get married. Not only was it bourgeois, but it seemed I was doomed to be in love with men who never wanted to get married.

That was okay. I would have at least seven lovers.

I would have one perfect daughter.

I would neither know or care who her father was. My lovers would appreciate my independence and willingness not to be bound by tradition or details.

Our relationship would be magical, full of feminine connections and power.

We would live on a ranch in the desert, bought by money I earned writing depressing poetry. Since I was a vegetarian, the cows would be allowed to roam and live in their natural state.

When I visited my lovers, she would come with me.

While my lover and I had exotic, passionate, incredible sex, she would... wait around somewhere.

When she got older, I would NEVER oppress her with rules or lessons. I would respect her and allow her to live her OWN LIFE.

COULD THINGS GET ANY WEIRDER? YES! JOIN US NEXT WEEK FOR "THE PLAN, PART 3: THE MID-TWENTIES".

THE PLAN, PART 1

2011-02-13T18:15:00.000-08:00

When I was a kid, I wanted 8 children.

I would start having these children immediately after college, when I married my handsome, green-eyed high school sweetheart.

While having these children, I would also go to veterinary school and become the best veterinarian ever.

Pregnancy and childbirth would be a joy. I knew this from reading chapters out of my mom's Our Bodies, Ourselves.

Because I was going to be fabulously rich, from my beauty queen/ veterinary career, money would never be a problem.

My children would be artistic, creative, smart, precocious, funny, and delightful 100% of the time.

Each child would have a dog.

Or two.

Each dog would have its own servant.

It was all so easy, and I really couldn't understand people who didn't seem to get it. Every time I saw a kid screaming, or an annoyed parent, I felt sorry for that poor child, but smug in the knowledge that my children were going to be perfect.

SEE THE PLAN GET A LOT MORE GOTH IN "THE PLAN, PART 2: THE TEENAGE YEARS"