Wednesday, November 23, 2005

Why are they so divided?

Movie critics.

Love them? Hate them? Believe them? Doubt them?

Even a discussion on movie critics would leave the opinionated completely divided.

Why does the movie critic's opinion even matter? If we think we want to see something, we should go see it, right?

Enter, RENT

As you all know, I've been pining to see this movie ever since I had learned of it's production and had seen the Broadway show in July. So, regardless of what the critics say, I'm going to see this film.

Chances are, I'm even going to like it.

However, the movie critics have either trashed RENT for various reasons (that I'll try to capture below), or hailed it as one of the best, most energetic movie musicals to be made in ages.

Why are they so divided?

Well, I think there are many factors:
  • Some of them simply don't understand the fact that this is a musical. It's a stage show on film. They whine that the characters unnaturally break out into song at ridiculous moments. Citing that people don't do this in "real life". Well, duh! Why is it people accept it on a Broadway stage, but not on film? It's a freakin' movie of a stage show. These critics are dumb asses.
  • Some of them have seen the show on Broadway and hated it, therefore they are predisposed to hate them film, as well.
  • Some of them have seen the show and realize that the movie has captured it "true to it's original version". So, they like it. They get it.
  • Others think this movie and subject matter is dated because it takes place in 1989. Um, hello? It's a period piece. Just as 'Finding Neverland' takes place in the early 1900's, this film takes place in 1989. Why is this an issue? Put your 1989 hat on and enjoy it for all of it's late 1980's glory!

I really could go on and on. But, I won't. What I will say is that the love/hate relationship with Jonathan Larson's brilliant work occurred even amongst the theater community. I'm talking Broadway, not Hollywood.

So in the truest RENT tradition, critics will either love it or hate it.

One thing is certain to me...while the work isn't polished perfection, it's remarkably passionate and filled with beautiful melodies and lyrics. The performers are so close to the source material that their performance WILL suck you in and you will all be touched, just as I was when I saw the show at the Nederlander in NYC.

I will be there. I'm so glad that there is 'No Day But Today'. I'm so glad that I'll be fired up with excitemnt at 7:45pm tonight, when that first chord of 'Seasons of Love' kicks off the film.

Why, those little RENTheads in the theater better not ruin the movie for me by mooing or cheering over key moments. I might be asking myself...

...why didn't I just wait for this on DVD?

Monday, November 21, 2005

Why is it hurting?

Ever get so drunk that you injure yourself and don't remember why or how?

I have.

Saturday started out innocent enough. Hanging out with friends, drinking. Good time so far. Then we decided to head over to the Parliament House. During the walk from where we parked the car, William and I got into a fist-fight. Not because we were anrgy with one another, but just for the hell of it. As we punched each other's arms and chests, I was laughing like a fool.

The night became an ever-increasing blur filled with me puking in the ladies' restroom and me asking some gorgeous, shirtless latino boy to become our houseboy. The fun finally came to an end with me and Donna drunkenly giggling around my condo complex at about 6:30am.

Then came Sunday.

I woke up feeling battered and bruised. Quite literally. I have four horrendous bruises on my arms from where William had punched me and pinched me. Every color of the bruise rainbow is now etched on my arms and chest.

But, my leg. Ouch! It's a sharp pain just below my right knee on the outside of the leg. Going up and down stairs is almost impossible.

I don't know if I simply twisted it, hurt a tendon, or did I fracture something?

Should I see a doctor? I don't know. I'm going to try to go another day or two and hope that the pain subsides.

Why did I finish my Oxycodones on Friday instead saving them for the pain of today?

Thursday, November 17, 2005

Why tapas?

It all started when Beny and I met that manipulative, sad, and lonely Franky Franky. You know, the homewrecker that likes to destroy people's relationships because he wants them to be as miserable as he is. (Sidebar: He's at it again with another friend of ours...)

Anyway, it all started when we met him. He took us to two fabulous tapas restaurants in Tampa. One called Sangrias and the other Ceviche.

Both had excellent food, beautiful servers, fun and interesting atmospheres, and tipsy-inducing Sangria.

Ever since then, I have been on the quest in Orlando to find such a great tapas-style dining experience.

Nothing has come close.

Last night, I had the pleasure of taking Beny and William out to the little Disney-designed town of Celebration. We went specifically on my quest to try another tapas restaurant. This one was the Columbia Restaurant.

A little history here. The original Columbia opened in Tampa's Ybor City in 1905 by a family man from Cuba. The operation has remained a family operation ever since. The Columbia has also spawned numerous duplicates in Sarasota, St. Peterburg, Clearwater, St. Augustine, and Celebration.

Based on my previous Tampa tapas experiences, and considering the Columbia had it's first locale in Tampa, I had high hopes.

Would this be the end-all on the search for tempting tapas?

Nope.

What we encountered was a strange seating hostess. A waiter that seemed to have come from the kitchen as an emergency back-up waiter. Food that simply had no wow factor. Finally, Sangria that had no punch in it's fruit juices.

Overall, the experience was okay. But, never again.

This leaves me with a desire to head back over to Winter Park to give Ole Ole a chance. However, I haven't heard too many great things about Ole Ole.

What I HAVE heard good things about, are the kind words being spoken on my behalf to help me secure the new job. While I still haven't received the "offer"...I have high hopes.

Why isn't the phone ringing?
Pins and needles...pins and needles...

Wednesday, November 16, 2005

Why, you'll see boys...

The film version of RENT is one week away from it's premiere (November 23rd). I'm so into this, that I'm having RENT-fever. This, despite the fact that I've been cranking Madonna's Confessions on a Dance Floor for the past day and a half.

I'm torn...I want to absorb myself in Madge's fabulous musical offering (purchased for a low low $9.72 at Wal-Mart), but at the same time I can't seem to tear myself away from my RENT movie soundtrack.

My CD player's eject button is working overtime as my Attention Deficit Disorder is causing me to bounce between these CDs.

I'm also excited at two other "happenings":
  • It appears that a decision is about to be made regarding the job I interviewed for a few weeks ago. The decision must be a difficult one, but I know for a fact that some calls are being made to various salaried-types to determine whether I am the favorable choice, or not. While I'm extremely nervous at the prospect of moving into a new job, I believe that it's exactly the medicine I need to rejuvenate my life.

Crossing my fingers.

  • Beny has received info that his boss has made some headway on creating a new salaried position for him. Hopefully, in the next week or two, Beny will be receiving a big promotion.

If both of these things pan positively out next week, I'm sure I will be on top of the world...

Confessions.

RENT.

WDI.

$$$.

Here's to hoping that I have lots to be thankful for on this coming Thanksgiving Day!

Why, my Mom's stuffing should be extra yummy this year.

Monday, November 14, 2005

Why am I so "Mean"?

This one goes out to The Peach.

I had a pointless weekend full of lounging around the house, watching oodles of television, sleeping WAY too much, and boozing it up at night.

For some odd reason, I feel absolutely horrible this morning. In fact, most of the weekend I have felt like "ass". Is my body telling me that it's time to take a turn for the better? Quit smoking? Quit drinking?

Perhaps. Perhaps. Perhaps.

Anyway, back to the weekend of excess slothitude.

I was able to FINALLY catch the movie "Mean Girls". The Peach loves this film and has pushed for me to see it since day one. Saturday night, I finally caught it on Showtime in HD. Bonus. I DVRed it and I'm glad that I did, because this movie was hilarious. It was one of those "this is why I hated high school" movies that takes the high school experience and exaggerates it to the millionth degree. Despite the exaggeration, it's also amazingly accurate. Go figure. But, funny it is.

Yoda was also on screen this wekend.

I finally watched Star Wars: Episode III.

Liked it, I did not.

Visually stunning...Hayden Christianson is a morsel...but, follow it I could not. My friend William had to explain much of the plot to me, since my Attention Deficit Disorder was on overload due to all of the distracting visual effects.

I mean, there were some things that I liked about it...mmm, Hayden...but, on the whole I felt that it was lacking the heart and emotion of the original Star Wars films.

I mean, when Yoda was a Muppet, he was adorable, witty, and cool. Now that he's CGI he just looks like a green anus and looks pissed off all of the time.

Redeeming aspect of CGI? When R2-D2 blew oil over some "bad robots" and then ignited the shit on fire. Robot Flambe.

The Peach raved and raved about this film and how amazing it was. I'm not sure what he liked about it, but it wasn't fun for me. In fact, I didn't find it nearly as entertaining as was "Mean Girls".

Of course, I made The Peach watch John Waters' "A Dirty Shame" and he didn't seem to enjoy that. I guess we are even by all accounts.

Tomorrow's the day that Madonna's newest CD sensation hits the shelves at your local Virgin Megastore. Make sure you purchase a copy.

Regret it, you will not.

Why can't I stop talking like Yoda?

Friday, November 11, 2005

Why what?

Ever feel "empty"?

I do.

In over my head...swimming in the shallow end of the cement pond.

Big hopes. Big dreams.

Big failures.

Why?

Tuesday, November 08, 2005

Why this and why that...

Why, if you go to Mtv.com via this link:(http://www.mtv.com/bands/az/madonna/1002963/album.jhtml)
you can listen to Madonna's newest album, "Confessions on a Dance Floor". You can find out why this album...

...KICKS ASS!

Why do I not feel bad about 'accidentally' blowing off a meeting I had with one of my managers to go to lunch?

Why do my boyfriends always have 'trust issues' with me, when I feel that I am quite trustworthy?

Why does my partner feel the need to get a car that is WAY out of our current price sitch-i-ation?

Why did my new misfiring friend disappear?

Why does Madonna's new album kick ass so much? It just does!

Why is Chopstick two months overdue for his Bordatella shot?

Why did my mind almost explode when I watched a show on PBS about something called 'String Theory'? If you know what is is, I'm sure you can relate.

Why do I have to wait 15 more days to see the RENT movie? Arrrgggh!

Why haven't I heard any new dance club remixes of "Seasons of Love" from RENT?

Why has my back been hurting so much lately?

Why do I have to wait so long to find out if they are going to give me the new job that I want so badly?

Why did Yankee Candle Company reject my offer to meet with them to discuss my new proposal for a new product line?

Why won't I tell YOU what my brilliant idea is/was?

Why does everybody knock Jaws 3-D? I always kind of liked it.

Why won't those lotto balls bounce into the pattern that I select every Wednesday and Saturday? Why, I could use a few million dollars.

Why did Terri Hatcher cry on last Sunday's Desperate Housewives? Screw the plot line, girl was going for an Emmy.

Why did I have a strange unmemorable dream that featured Jeff Lindberg in a starring role? Especially, since I haven't spent any time with him in YEARS? Most likely, it was due to his blog entry detailing his Q-tipping Earwax Flushing. Something I've never had done, but considering how often I Q-tip the ears, I'm sure I will have to get done.

Why do I fear Avain Flu? Why the hell do the news idiots call it the Avian Bird Flu, when Avain and Bird are the same thing?

Friday, November 04, 2005

Why give up?

Last night was challenging for me.

I'll get to the story in a moment, but first I've got to say that I've got this big "drama cloud" that follows me around. I don't know why I'm always at the epicenter of drama. One of my friends told me once that I simply love it. The solid fact is that I don't. Those that truly know me, know that I'm all about stress-free "happy times". I avoid arguments and negative situations like the plague.

Somehow the drama manages to find me and thrusts it's cock (and balls) down my throat.

On my way home from work yesterday, I decided to call a few people to see what everyone was planning for the weekend. Nobody answered. Instantly, I began to doubt my friends' loyalty. The reality is that most of them were probably still at work.

I knew that one of my best friends wasn't at work...I'll call him "James" to protect his privacy.

You see, James recently got terminated by Mickey Mouse. Not very "magical" after all, is it? I won't go into why I personally feel that he was wrongfully terminated. What I will go into is that I knew he would answer his phone, since he's currently unemployed AND single.

Unemployed AND single obviously do not mix well, because my drive-time conversation quickly turned into a suicide prevention hotline.

James talked about how he doesn't know what he wants to do in life anymore. No job really interests him. He also feels that his limited education will lead him nowhere. He's now in his thirties and he feels that his life up to this point has been simply irrelevant...pointless.

His quest for a man has been challenging due to his high standards and the sub-par quality of the candidates. The Orlando dating pool -- he informs me -- is full of psychotic selfish vapid losers. All people that he has never had or made a real connection with (except for the empty sex he so freely has with many of them).

I talked him down from his metaphorical building ledge for a short time, as I arrived home at my condo. I had to let him go, but promised I would call him later in the evening.

After walking Chopstick and prepping myself with three glasses of my Raspberry Smirnoff and Sierra Mist Free, I had the liquid courge to call him back.

It was a rough call.

I tried my best to inspire him to embrace the small things that make him happy. I asked him to take time and really look at his surroundings...nature. I asked him to think about all of the fun times he has had, like our recent trip to St. Augustine.

On the career front, I told him that he really needs to figure out what inspires him and attempt to marry that passion with a career. He's a huge environmentalist, a believer in the positive integration of technology and diversity displayed in Science Fiction, and loves world cultures. He loves art and hates math.

I made a wide-sweeping variety of job suggestions...trying to ignite the light in him.

During the course of the conversation, he made mentions of suicide at least ten times. From the "I just want to sleep and never wake up...I love sleeping." to the "I'm just going to eat something poisonous and die because I just don't see the point in any of this anymore."

Like I said, it was rough.

At around 11pm, I decided I was going over to his house to go on "suicide watch".

After negotiating with the Mrs., I finally got "permission" to go.

Once I got there, I found him in surprisingly good spirits. Wine, that is. And the "Refreshing White" FRANZIA seemed to have made him happier. I'd also like to think that my appearance at his abode made him happier, too.

He feels lost and has no one "there" for him. I'm glad I was able to be that person last night.

After a few more glasses of wine and a kinder, gentler conversation, I told him that I needed to go to sleep because I had to work the next morning.

There was a humorous drunken fumbling as he attempted to find me some shorts to sleep in. None of which fit me. Since I wasn't wearing underwear with the nylon athetic pants I had on, I knew I'd need shorts for comfort to sleep in. After trying to get four different pairs of shorts over my giant butt, I gave up. I told him, "Screw it, you've seen me naked a million times...I'll be sleeping nude."

Stop right there, bitches...this was not a "move" for me to attempt to get some action. Assholes.

I climbed into bed and he stripped down to his nothingness and joined me.

I turned away from him to begin my slumber and he quickly "spooned" me and put his arm over me and held my chest. I think this is all James really needed -- comfort and security.

5am the alarm clock woke me up for my return to the real world. Where was James? He wasn't in the bed! Holy Shiite Muslims! Did he "off" himself while I was sleeping?

Nah...it turns out that I was snoring like a freight train and he went to sleep on the sofa.

I sat next to him as he lay on the sofa and caressed his chest and hair a little while. He thanked me for "being there" for him and told me that it really meant a lot to him.

Mission accomplished...for now.

I gave him a quick peck on the lips and stumbled down to my car cursing the fact that I was up at 5am and had to go to work. I made it home by 5:25am and quickly climbed into bed with the Indonesian love of my life and nodded off for one extra hour of sleep.

I'm tired. Exhausted, really. It doesn't matter...

...why, I'll do just about anything for my dearest friends.

Wednesday, November 02, 2005

Why no news is hopefully good news...

This morning, I did my regular routine of schlepping into work, powering up my PC and filtering through my emails.

There it was staring me in the face...in red letters none-the-less!

It was an email from the Human Resources Manager from the department that I just interview with...yikes!

Hesitantly opening the email, I was glad to see that she was notifying me that a decision had not been made for the position. In fact, it would be two additional weeks until they can make up their minds.

Why do I hear the music from "A Chorus Line"?

(God, I hope I get it...)