Laugh-splosions

This is almost the Platonic ideal of SNL sketches:



1. Kristen Wiig
2. Jon Hamm
3. Bill Hader
4. Political humor
5. Sexy humor
6. Shirtlessness

The one thing that's missing is, like, a rap. Not that my very tender brain's Laugh Center could possibly have handled that kind of stimulation.

That Pretty Much Sums it Up (UPDATED!)

The Awl is quickly becoming my favourite news and pop culture site these days, in part because it's hilarious, but mostly because it's intelligent. I used to like Jezebel for those same reasons, but the fact that they are so righteous at Jezebel - rightly so, of course - can be exhausting after a while (not to mention the fact that the editors can be wildly contradictory in terms of what they will or will not support: for example, they are rabidly supportive of the Fat Acceptance movement [which is great] but somehow simultaneously encourage "skinny-bashing", which makes no sense). Sometimes I want to be assured that men can be the kind of emotionally intelligent critical thinkers the writers at Jezebel mostly agree they aren't.

So here's Balk, from The Awl (not a male-oriented site, by the way), in an article entitled BTW, While You Were Being Selfish And Goal-Oriented Your Eggs Were Dying.

Ladies, I bring you some unfortunate news. I know all you want to do is birth that baby you think is going to complete you and make your life full of purpose, but the thing you need to know is that your ovaries are decaying even more rapidly than previously suspected. Are you 30 or over? Uh oh. A new study shows that most of your eggs are already gone, and the ones that are left aren't really that good. You will probably NEVER HAVE THAT BABY. There, there. No, shhh, I know. Chin up, sweetie, it's okay. I'm sure that career you've been busy building will more than compensate for the overwhelming feeling of emptiness and lack of meaning that failing to achieve the most important goal of womanhood usually results in. Maybe you should just shift your focus to trying to get married. I mean, sometimes that does still happen to a woman over 30, right? But you should probably buy lots of cosmetics for that extra edge, just in case.

You can click over to The Awl and check it out - it's one of my Favourite Links, over there in the left margin.

Never before have the words "Destination: Horror" had so much personal significance

Marion's college friend, Tom, sent her this in the mail yesterday:



I spent all day thinking about it, and then at 1AM, we had the following text conversation.

Me: Just looked at Tom's gift again (nightmares) (gunshot) (nightmares for which not even death is a barrier)...I think Tom might be my hero?

Marion: Hahahahaha! Oh god, that WOULD be a quality you admire

Me: Oh also I thought that Tom should put together some kind of public viewing of his creations entitled Things That Shouldn't Exist, or, like, N'est Ce Pas Une Doll Head (Yes It Is)

Marion: Hahahahaha, and everything he ever gave me would be there

Me: Those swirly x-ray/eyeball glasses definitely. Maybe [redacted] wearing the glasses. Maybe the exhibit could be entitled N'est Ce Pas Une Haunted House (Yes It Is)

Marion: HA! LOLOLOLOL

Marion: Another gift received from Tom: giant clown PEZ dispenser

Me: Hahaha oh my god. It's like he's not content with the neuroses you already have and is doing his best to foster more

Marion: Tom's nightmare menagerie

Me: I would buy like 10 tickets to see that.

Marion: I know you would

I Seriously Can't Resist These

I'll just let that speak for itself.

Heresy, I'm Sure (UPDATED!)

Have you guys seem the sort-of season 1 finale of Glee? Lea Michelle sings "Don't Rain On My Parade", from Funny Girl (a song originally done by Barbra Streisand [OBVIOUSLY this is what she's been working on since she was 4]), and her performance gave me goosebumps. I hadn't, however, heard the original version until just now, when I remembered that I've been meaning to YouTube it since last semester (whoops). I have mixed emotions about this.



I loved the song immediately, of course, and there are some hilarious shots in this clip - like the one of her orange dress zooming comically through the mostly-empty train station - but it didn't seem as epic as it did on Glee (I mean, it was just so FITTING for Lea Michelle to be singing that, then, there!), or as it could have been in the original plot, I think. Though I'm not saying the imagery of Super Jew Barbra Streisand on a turquoise tugboat speeding past Ellis Island isn't...like...POIGNANT or whatever. But I haven't seen the whole movie. Maybe it IS epic. Maybe I just wish I could have seen Barbra's gorgeous hair instead of that thoroughly LOLworthy fur-turban (furban?).

UPDATE: I couldn't find a halfway-serviceable clip of Lea Michelle's version online when I first published this post, but here it is!



Either way, this song rules, and I don't care if my gay friend Grant says there's no competition with Babs - I think both ladies did it quite well, with their own approaches.

Headdesk

Disclaimer: This scene took place a couple of weeks ago, when my parents and I were re-watching the first half of Glee's first season on DVD.

Emma: "Are you throwing up, Rachel?"

Rachel: "No. I tried, but it seems that I just don't have a gag reflex."

Emma: "When you're older, you'll discover that that's a good thing."

Mom: ... (Here, I imagine her thinking, "I wonder what that's a reference to!")

Me: ... (Oh my god, please, PLEASE let's not talk about this.)

Dad: ... (Golf?)

Brother: "HUH? GAG REFLEX? WHY WOULD THAT BE A GOOD THING?"

Me: ... (I hate you so much.)

Oh, WEBKINZ

me: i have everyone's christmas presents
i was sort of toying with mailing them
and then i was like WHO AM I KIDDING
they're going to be Spring Equinox gifts, i guess

Lauren: haha cool

me: i wish i could just upload presents
and email them to people

Lauren: haha
you could start buying virtual gifts

me: like webkinz?!?!?!?!!

Lauren: YEAH

me: hahah well i haven't bought john's gift yet
so maybe he's just going to get webkinz credits or however the fuck you deal with those

Lauren: what are webkinz?

So, I'm just going to, like, listen to this for the rest of my life.

Is that okay with you?



Because it's very okay with me, baby.

(Even if it's not the most original stance I've ever taken)

OH MY GOD THAT IS EXACTLY WHAT I WAS SAYING

There has been a link to a website of James Joyce's letters to his girlfriend, Nora, under Favourite Links for more than a year, but I doubt ANY of you clicked on it. So here is a comic I found on the matter; hopefully it will pique your interest enough that you FINALLY TAKE HEED.



LOLOLOLOL

MY BRAIN

God dammit, ladies! This is basically how I feel about being a woman. Like, "BE SERIOUS, GALS! THERE ARE IMPORTANT THINGS TO BE ACCOMPLISHED HERE" and simultaneously I am every woman featured...SHOES. Sigh.

This is a comic by a lady named Kate Beaton, and every installment that I've read so far has been very pleasurable. So I'm going to put a link up under Favourites. It's "Hark, a vagrant" and you should click and enjoy immediately.

Well, THAT went well.

This weekend was a rager, folks. In so many ways. I am, however, glad it was so, more than glad - it's a nice momentum to have when I'm perched on the edge of YET ANOTHER semester of "no, I'm not doing anything new, just...class" (significant eye roll meant to convey: "SCHOOL IS BORING").

Okay, off to shower, primp, and mingle with family. Wish me luck.

Almost, Almost, Almost...

American society is all fucked up. Can we agree on that? Good. And part of the reason it's all fucked up is that everyone (or at least the great majority of people) thinks that they should be a celebrity, or that they are owed celebrity status, right? Right. The etymology of that word - celebrity - is pretty obvious, I think. Celebrities are people who should be celebrated, and the culture of raising children with adequate self-esteem in this country has led us all to believe that we are all special snowflakes, worthy of everyone's consideration, and - eventually - their celebration.

I don't think everyone should be widely celebrated. Do I think everyone should be loved? Sure, sort of. But mostly I think most people should earn a living doing something they chose so they can appropriately support their families. Maybe that sounds cynical, but it's really not. We (and I speak pretty much for the middle class here) should take pleasure in the little things to which we all have access: friends, food, music, books. I think we should be happy with the lives which we carve out for ourselves with our own work and wit, and take pride in earning what is ours. Besides equal opportunity, I don't think most people are owed anything. Thus, I find most people fucking irritating.

You may have seen my Twitter update from the other day (I can't bring myself to say "tweet" anymore, it just seems so frivolous...fittingly so, I'm sure, but still) about young people who refer to themselves as "local celebrities". I'm pretty sure the concept of "local celebrity" can only apply to places that are really small. When you start to think that people all over Houston can recognize your name, I feel the danger of psychosis is imminent. Nobody recognizes your name aside from the 100 or so people in your immediate family, the circle you hung out with in high school, your college roommate, and your girlfriend (God help her). So, you're either an actual celebrity, or you're just a regular person. And this is where my plan to start rehabilitating American society comes in! Remember at the beginning when we agreed that everyone is fucked for life? There's something you - yes, YOU! - can do to help! Here's what you do. It's as easy as 1-2-3!

1. Embrace your regularness! Are you just a regular person? Yeah. But that's okay! It can be FUN to be regular.
2. Exceed expectations at being normal! What do "normals" do? Probably a lot of the same things that YOU do! Why? Because you are a normal. Can you think of a normal thing that you do?

Yes! You like Starbucks! That's a good start. Now

3. GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY FACE.

Are you gone yet? Yes? Whew.

Boy, it's EASY to fall off the wagon!

So it's been a few days since I last posted. It's hopeless, really, to pretend to slag along like I was before. I've been rather distracted from this by the whole Leno/O'Brien thing - yes, it's possible to be THAT wrapped up in pop culture. I am, of course, on Team Conan...



...but MY BOY CRAIG has got some good things to say about it, too.



Fair point, Craig. Fair point.

For a while there, I thought it was possible for there to be some kind of acceptable reconciliation - there was a brief moment there where NBC could have backed away from the ledge, saying, "Just kidding, guys! Just kidding" And we all could have heaved a sigh of relief - but that possibility is a laughable one now. It's kind of strange to watch the network whose "creative direction" (or whatever it's called) I enjoy the most do something so wretchedly clueless. I mean, they've got The Office, 30 Rock, Community, Parks and Recreation, AND Law & Order!? AND CONAN! Well, they HAD Conan. Now what?

New Year, New Hair, New Me

Lately I've been feeling SUPER BORED with my hair. This comes over me once every three months or so - usually I get a new hairstyle or buy a ton of products or styling tools (you've seen my bathroom; you know I'm a slut for new products or tools), but this time the urge was stronger. I was about two minutes away from chopping it all off and going back to the old style I had when I lived in Seattle...

(My colorist has also gone through the "boy hair" thing and said she enjoyed it. We confirmed that you attract an altogether different kind of guy with short hair...eventually we decided that by "different" we meant "more open-minded")

But I've been growing my hair out for YEARS now, and to cut it all off kind of seems like I'd be negating all that "hard work" (even if I actually did literally nothing). But that short cut and the blonde have long since grown out - that picture was taken in the summer of 2006. So I decided to dye it again. This entry is boring me already so I'll just post the picture and get out of here.

Et voila.

I know, I KNOW OKAY

Yes, that is the music video for Tik ToK. The official spelling of this song's title is enough to give me the howling phantods, but just watch the first 30 seconds of it: the part where she goes downstairs and her parents are like SUPES SHOCKED that she looks so disheveled is pretty much what this month away from school has been like for me. I assume the thought process with my actual parents goes something like, "okay, Priya is going through a period of personal difficulty...we'll just leave her alone for now." Until I start cutting myself. HAHA Kidding I would never do that Or would I? No I wouldn't, I'm really bad at causing myself physical pain BUT EMOTIONAL PAIN IS NO PROBLEM is there a word for cutting your own soul? Not that I need that word I'm just wondering. Because I like words, you know. Because Literature Majors. Because books. Because yeah.

And that was my impression of Kristen Wiig's "Just Kidding!" character from SNL. Had you worried there for a sec, didn't I? Well, don't freak, guys, my MULTIPLE PERSONALITIES are just a myth. Anyway, here's the video.

A+++++++

Okay so, maybe it's just that I don't have a very active or interesting personal life, but this seems like a legitimately fun thing to do at home if nothing particularly compelling is happening, on, like, a Thursday night. Or maybe Friday. Don't judge me.

This is My Brain Right Now

And by "this", I mean "Sauron singing in the shower", obviously.

Aaaand, full circle.

I find that I'm actually looking forward to getting back to class on the 19th...everyone's going back to work after the holidays, and I find that I spend my time either compulsively Netflixing Seminal Teen Romantic Comedies of the 1990s or listlessly watching Daily Show reruns and debating whether or not I should shower. I looked forward to this break so much, but now I find a definite preference for a sense of direction. Hopefully this bodes well for my performance (at least until Spring Break, when I - according to a well-seasoned tradition of my own devising - shut down for the rest of the year and make only token overtures to any type of accomplishment).

And then...summer. It feels like it will be forever from now, but I know the time will fly by. I'll probably take classes again...I enjoyed having something to do every weekday last year, even if it did involve the horror of Metaphysics and "Sacred Scriptures".

And after summer, another year in undergrad before I walk. Each step towards academic "completion" is impossible to describe in a context outside of my "5 year plan" - everyone who asks about what next year brings gets a very distinct look of I Was Railroaded Into This Conversation about six minutes into it, right around the time when I start talking about law school - some people do it and the MBA thing simultaneously but I just don't see myself being that successful with that, you know? And after that - . The salient point is clearly that I plan to stay in school as long as possible - at least until the current economic downturn is safely in our collective rearview mirror, at least until contemporary Seminal Teen Romantic Comedies stop making reference to parents losing jobs and start including lines like "Yuppie Greed is back, my friend!" again.

Failed

ALL OF YOU SHUT UP. I'm sick.

Yes, this counts as today's post. Suck it. And I will continue to post every day from here on out, even if I didn't post yesterday and am no longer eligible for whatever prize is being offered this month. Too bad, so sad.

While you're waiting for me to collect myself, here's an AMAZING cold open from the Craig Ferguson show. Part of me wants him to get a better spot in the late-night lineup, because a better spot equals more moneys for my man Craig, but at the same time, an older, more mainstream audience would be unlikely to embrace him and his freakshow antics, which would in turn bring down his ratings, which would mean...fewer moneys for my man Craig and almost-immediate rumors of replacement by Jerry "Soul Horf" Seinfeld (see: The Tragedy of Conan O'Brien). He's probably better off right where he is - being the best talk show host this side of midnight.

Sweaty

There are things about which I cannot blog. These are the things which seem to be happening to me lately - these are the things which demand the energy I usually set aside for pointless pop culture musings and hilarious conversations.

YET THE BLOG GODS ARE VORACIOUS.

So I produce (albeit behind schedule):

I went to Las Vegas for Christmas. I know. It's weird. Last time we went as a family it was over Easter weekend a few years ago, which was frowned upon DISTINCTLY by everyone I told. Sorry I'm not like you, guys! Sheesh. This time, however, I was met with only mild concern when I told people. I think the difference in attitude can be accounted for in that I shrugged my shoulders and gave a big embarrassed smile in a Deferential Native kind of way when I was breaking the news.

The first night in Vegas, we ate Japanese food at the MGM grand and saw Ka (which is a Cirque du Soleil show). At first I was really scared that it was going to be that "see the sensual side of cirque du soleil" stuff...actually, I wasn't scared, I was FUCKING TERRIFIED. I think there's a whole sequence of tweets hyperventilating about having to sit through two hours of sexual contortion with my parents. Besides, anyone who's been in the front row at a Cirque show already knows the sensual side of Cirque - yeah...I've seen a lot of things. Things that were barely contained by latex. BALLS IS WHAT I MEAN BY "THINGS". There. It feels better to get it all out! Anyway, it turns out that the sexy cirque is actually called Zumanity (eek) and Ka is about a pair of royal twins whose parents are brutally murdered before their eyes and they have to go on a long journey through the land, finding love and their maturity along the way? That's what the program said, anyway; I personally didn't really get it. Flying shapes.

The second night, we ate somewhere forgettable and then saw CRISS ANGEL!!!!!!!! which was interesting. I mean, my dad got the tickets because he likes the Mindfreak TV show, which, okay, I guess...but I mean, how do we (the audience) not know that it's all camera tricks? I kind of assumed we just assumed that it was camera tricks. Apparently not, though. Anyway, the show was ridiculously bad. I'm telling you guys right now - don't go see the Criss Angel show if you're ever in Las Vegas. It was bad in all the ways that bad magic shows can be bad: every time someone was supposed to disappear, the stage would flood with fire or smoke and when the fire or smoke cleared, the person would be gone. Magic! If by "magic" you mean "they obviously walked offstage while your sightline was obscured by smoke." Though I did learn something interesting about "Criss" as a person: he dresses that way because he legitimately thinks it makes him cool to wear 14 necklaces and tons of Affliction gear. When you see him in person (okay, "in person") you come to realize that he's just a nerdy magician kid who is now 35 or something and never grew out of what a weirdo he was. It's actually pretty endearing - but you all know how I am about uncomfortable nerdy boys. Sigh.

On the last night, we ate at Patio - it's the steakhouse at Bellagio. the overall experience was only meh. Ihe food was great, but we paid A LOT more than I thought it was worth - I mean, my salad was literally just lettuce, tomatoes, and blue cheese dressing, nothing fancy AT ALL: $16: Heart attack. "Bellagio" means "beautiful lake". I think. My brother and I just parsed the word and used our SAT reasoning skills to work that one out.
After dinner, we went to see Love, the Cirque show that has all Beatles music. It was FUCKING INCREDIBLE.

And during every day we went shopping. It was pretty boring, and I basically wore a hole in my foot because DAMN. So much walking.

So that was my vacation in Vegas. I was going to go to California to visit Marion next week (the last week of break before I have go to back to dun-dun-DUN SCHOOL) but my brother just walked in and said he wants me to help him organize his 21st birthday party for the 13th, and then he made puppy dog eyes and asked me to ATTEND said party because if I came and brought some of my friends we would make it "cooler". Damn you little brother. The 13th is on the WEDNESDAY of the week I was planning to spend in CA...I start school on the 18th. It's definitely less time than I originally thought I'd have, but we'll see what we can do, I guess. If not, there's always Spring Break, I guess.

2010!

New Year's Eve was...well, eventful and uneventful at the same time. What I mean is that it played into exactly what I had been saying about New Year's Eve in the weeks leading up to that night: people try to make it more than it is. It's like who you kiss at midnight really is a portent for the entire year to come. You guys, who you kiss at midnight on December 31st has no more effect on what you do for the next 300+ days than who you kiss at midnight on July 7th does. We know this.
And besides all the trying to expand the significance of the night, the amateurs are out to play on New Year's Eve. It's one of those nights of the year when people who usually don't party allow themselves to "go crazy" (a similar event is St. Patrick's Day - it's like people who are generally pretty sane feel obligated to get thrashed then, too). What that means is that we all get exposed to some very unprofessional behavior.

So last night's episode, then. Eight of us had a very nice dinner downtown at the Grove on Discovery Green - the food was great. But we ended up with a CRAZY bill because we kept ordering bottles of wine and champagne that we didn't need (but finished anyway). Yikes. Then we went down to the Galleria area to a little house party (attended by the host's 50 closest friends) and that was about it. I really liked how calm it was.

The party we went to was wrapping up at about 1:30 - people started filtering out and calling cabs or driving away. But a girl we knew in high school was at this party too, and she wanted to drive. Usually I only have to put up a very mild resistance towards drunk people wanting to drive and they go "mehhh FINE" because they don't want to drive anyway, and if they're presented with a halfway decent alternative they'll go with it. But this girl was really, really convinced that she was okay to drive. I mean, fine, we're all adults and you can make your own life choices or whatever but when you can't walk in a straight line and you're crying, you're going to have to do better than "just LEMME GOOOOOO!!!!!!!" So Devon and I wrestled with her for AN HOUR AND A HALF and finally got her into a cab and dropped her off at her maybe-boyfriend's house. A job well done, really, and I would have to say it was an alright way to spend the night.

Notice that I didn't say it was an okay way to begin the year. Because what you do on the first of January isn't a death sentence to possibility and potential. I think the year is what you make it. Then again, if it turns out that I'm wrong and all those superstitions are based in truth...last night was an okay way to start the decade.