Homer: Like Hamburger Earmuffs?"
-The Simpsons
"I think there’s something sinister going on in here. If you find anyone or parts…of anyone, scream.....
And scream again."
-Chandler, Friends
"Winston Egbert wants to start an annual poor people’s ball where no one “with incomes of more than $500 a year allowed,” which sounds a hell of a lot more fun that the Bridgewater Bore."
-1Bruce1 Sweet Valley snarks.
I'll go screaming and wearing my own hamburger earmuffs (extra cheese please!).
"I'm fairly sure this means that we're going to see a lot of models dressed like orphan boys holding copies of Howl, and if there's one thing a modern woman wants, I think, it's to appear as though she has just escaped from the clutches of Evil Headmaster Wackford Squeers, who beat her more than the rest of the foundlings simply because she kept trying to organize group readings of Naked Lunch. "
-Go Fug Yourself .Com
I'll go to that too. In crushed velvet shorts and white lace tights, with worn work boots.
'cause I'm that cool.
Imagine it you will, a typical day at The Daily Planet. Suddenly, Clark Kent's glasses fall off:
Random Guy: Oh My God it's Superman!
Clark: (puts his glasses back on) What?
Random Guy: He's gone!
Random Guy 2: Where'd he go?
Clark: (takes off his glasses to clean them on his shirt) Strange......
Random Guy: Wait! There he is again!
Random Guy 2: Its a bird, no a plane. No its Superman!
Clark: (puts glasses back on) Where?
Random Guy: He's gone again! What the hell?
Clark: How do I keep missing him? (winks)
Random Guy 2: Oh Clark, you just away seem to be gone when ever something exciting happens!
I used to think this whole idea was so silly. I mean Superman doesn't wear a mask or go under cowl, and yet a simple pair of glasses make his alter ego unrecognizeable. I mean really! If you wear glasses, you're going to take them off everyonce and a while, at least to clean them, or to sleep,
so really how did he keep it up? (the same goes for those girls on Sailor Moon, who didn't even use the 'fool proof' glasses disguise).
But maybe, it's not so silly. Maybe its smartest man ever intelligence?
Maybe it's hiding in plain sight, the place you'd never expect, so you don't need to trouble with a serious disguise.
After all, who would expect the original, "mild mannered reporter" (as a reporter, I'll be anything but mild mannered. I can assure of that) of donning a cape and flying through the Metropolis night, beating up bad guys? It'd be like being invisible and unnoticed, so you don't really have to hide. You hide in normalacy. Just naturally blend in.
.....Or maybe, Miss Art Nouveau, needs to calm down and get herself some sort of meds.
And real life experiences and adventures to go all Gonzo on.
Checkmate.
check your emotional baggage and judgments at the door, and ride the fall.
Are we coming to the end? i'll never be your cookie cutter.
Don't even try to fit me in!
At work today we got to talking about superpowers. Of course, because we started finishing each other's sentances, and I shout out, wouldn't it be awesome to be able to read minds?
(just in case any sort of genie or wish granting entity, is listening I'd wish for the power of flight).
But today, I was dreaming of mind reading, so I could know people's secrets. So I could know if the guy I like likes me back, and we're just wasting time staring blankly at each other as if we don't care.
But on the other hand, that'd be a crushing blow. Because, then you might find out more then you would ever want to know. What if everyone you know, everyone you love, secretly hates you?
What if they laugh at you whenever you leave the room, their private joke?
What if its you they're covertly whispering about. (just because you're paranoid, doesn't mean they aren't really out to get you....)
You just can't recover from that.
And once opened, Pandora's box can't ever be closed.
Also, somebody suggested that if the guy you liked, did actually like you, you would hear his possibly perverse thoughts, that might make you stop liking him.
But of course, in my screwed up case, hearing what a guy i like would want to do to me, would be something I'd like.
....unless what he'd like to do was cut me up in little pieces and stuff my in an old gym bag in his garage.....maybe not then.
Hopefully, it would be something possibly constructive like:
"I'm going to follow you around today, and catch you whenever you trip over something". (or don't know how to open a milk carton, and say you broke the milk- and then you choked on a cookie? {only to make you love me, of course}). But then, of course he'd see just how many times I trip over things, and be all 'What The Hell Is Wrong With You???!!! Did you just get your legs yesturday, or something?'
And i'd be like, sure. Don't you like them?
Sale at LegsRUs!
They look killer in fishnets.
But seriously, today I got to rhapsodizing about the same guy I always fall for. You're heard of him, he's infamous. That kind of wasted, killing himself, sickly, addled and throughly addicted Writer-Rocker. The kind of concave, raw, gruff guy troubled with all these beautiful demons, who devours you on some sort of hallucogenic kiss. Poisonous, acidic, maybe a bit rough. You can imagine him spitting and seething. He doesn't apologize, he's just himself, he throws out the punches wherever he goes, inciting controversy with him every step. Gives up normal life for stupidly brilliant plans. He's a genius and makes you feel like a runaway! And you're happy to be, to need him, to support each other in rundown cellars and depraivity, wait backstage. And no matter how old you're getting you play the little girl. You just nourish each other. Help grow and fall apart. The kind of guy who needs a support system, to deal with him, help him survive every day, build him back up so he can at least function again. Just like you're got yours to rebuild you when things get rough or bloody.
Because living with danger is living and dying at once.
Beautiful.
And loved to death.
Everyday's a frightening adventure. You could live or die each minute, get off on a loaded, cocked machine gun, shoved in your willing mouth. And you're better off writing your own eulogy in a running scroll. Updating it like the blog your in love with writing. Imagine living with a dangerous guy like this! I guess they'd be a certain amount of
danger living with him. Just never let him try out a William Tell routinue with a highball glass on your head.
He's the guy that laughs at your klutziness, but not in a mocking way, but in bemusement, as if you're a piece of physical comedy set up for his own enjoyment.
But if i had my own comedy film, it would be so hilarious!
Would you just watch hours of me tripping over myself,and twisting my rubber band face into crazy expressions. So oscar worthy.
I read somewhere that crows are a bad omen, that show you that something bad is going to happen. So, I'm scared.
Yesturday as I'm walking back to school after lunch, there's the biggest crow, I've ever seen, ink black, sitting atop the chain link fence. And seriously, it looks like he's watching me, his all knowing gaze seems to follow me wherever I go. And as I try to escape into the school, he keeps cawing, and its really like he's laughing at me. He keeps doing it, right after I turn to look at him, he starts again as I try to walk away. And this morning, as I'm walking to school there's another crow flying far in the distance, and somehow I know its the same crow.
Lastly, today in Writer's Craft, I'm sitting there trying to listen, and my giant crow goes flying so quickly by the window across the room that if I blinked, I would have missed it.
But no one else seemed to notice. (did I dream it?)
So what's going to happen? Who's going to fall?
Please don't let it be me. I'm already on my way down without the crow's help.
Seriously, the crows are laughing at me! No Joke!
No matter how bad things get though, I am resolved in my idea that things can always get better, and just don't know what could happen if you wait it out another day. I mean did you hear about the girl, an aspiring actress who could get any jobs and killed herself by jumping off the Hollywoodland sign (before it was just Hollywood) as an ironic comment about the industry?
The next day, some studio went to offer her a starring role in a major movie, that would have launched her career.
That's irony!
So you never know what could happen tommorrow. It's a fresh new start. A brand new day to paraphrase Dr. Horrible.
Lately, I've been discovering that i'm not half bad at drawing, something I never was too good at. Sunday, I'm bored and I start drawing a picture of my Dad as Batman, casting me and my sister as Batgirl and Robin, respectively. And It came out amazingly! Like the cape was actually moving, and he was actually stalwart and muscular.
Why am I so good at artsy things, but so lacking in practical life skills?
So later, we're watching a movie, and eating pizza, and I'm sitting beside my Dad on the couch.
And I realized something, when he leaned over and whispered in my ear, "I love you Barbara Gordon" . And it made me think, The Killing Joke really is my dad’s worst nightmare. It WOULD drive him crazy for real. So if he really was Jim Gordon, or Bruce Wayne, we’d be in serious trouble.
Also, I would not be too happy to be paralyzed, and end up with a kind of boring desk job instead of adventure. So the understatment of the year!
The New Nouveau wishlist:
- Sweet Valley High Board Game (Oooh Bruce Patman)
- TNA Sweaters White and Raspberry
- Acid Wash Skinny Jeans
- Ripped Ragged Bell bottom- ish jeans
- Liquid eyeliner
- Chocolate coloured suede boots
- One of those sweet silver bullet necklaces
- Plum suede coloured heeled boots
- Normal Watches- Pink I Want Candy watch (the only watch I think I would ever wear)
- Baby doll dresses
- Shakespeare Without The Boring Bits Book
- Alice in Wonderland Dress
- Class Ring- Garnet
- Baby Blue Tall Suede Uggs
- Jawbreaker DVD (to sit happily beside Heathers and Mean Girls on my shelf)
- Pink converse to abuse
- Neon pink nail polish
- The Joker graphic novel (the one with the creepy , awesome picture of his smile on the cover)
- Lots of Fred Flare goodies, such as: an ice cream cone lamp, pirate ship necklace, gold retainer necklace, cassette tape earrings and cake shaped make-up bag
- Pencil skirts, or flared ones
- Gladiator sandals
And on an end note of ponderment,
I just got my new copy of Nylon magazine, the epitome of cool (my writer's craft teacher asks us to bring in copies of the bible to demonstrate how different translations differ. This IS my bible. Got a problem with my new religion? Coolism?). Seriously wondering if there is something wrong with Kristen Stewart (or Miss Bella Swan of Twilight fame), the cover girl for March in case you were wondering. Can she do more than one expression, or pose? 'Cause her entire photoshoot is like 7 pictures of her that look exactely the samre except for her outfits.
Weird. I do not idolize, or want to be this girl.
I'm Me. and that's just perfection,
-Catcher
No comments:
Post a Comment