persepolis, deals w/ satan, TMI, & stylin'

1.) Go see Persepolis. Put aside your prejudices that it's animated and that it's subtitled. It's charming and moving, and the grandmother in it is probably my favorite movie character in years, 2D or not. Lurved it.

2.) So, back in 2004, we had a running joke in my household about Big Papi having sold his soul to the prince of darkness, 'cause how else do you explain the sudden invincibility of someone with hereforeto only modestly promising potential? (Especially, y'know, if you're Catholic?) Having seen the recently-highly-publicized Pats draft photos of circa 2000 Tom Brady, pasty, not-so-hott, and modestly promising, not the infallible, ridiculously good-looking, model-fucking, actress-knocking-up, best-quarterback-evah Tom we know today, one might feel compelled to make the same joke. But, really? How do you become the charmed one? It ain't all hard work and genetic endowment.

3.) And, yeah. A couple posts back in the comments, I was tempted to joke with Mr Barma about what I would have put on Myspace, had it existed when I was 18 or 20. Not fifteen or sixteen, because in high school I was still held hostage by the spector of vicious gossip, and I'd have never made public anything that might have been fuel for my "enemies." But once I got to college? All bets were off. Until very, very recently, I had in my possession, three polaroid pictures of myself, my future ex-husband, and my cousin/quasi-sister doing lines, circa 1983ish. We called them our "blackmail" pictures. How the blackmail was supposed to work in my case, since I kept all three, I dunno, but it probably speaks to who was the brains of that operation. Ahem. Not so effin' smart as to not document illegal activities on film however, or--had it been possible, I'm sure, to share them with the virtual world. I shudder to think.

So, I was thinking about that today, and wondering why I'd kept those pictures for so long. Not to actually blackmail my ex should his political ambitions ever overreach what they are, though, you know...hahahaha. Perhaps just because I liked that particular picture of myself, looking very New Wave with my "bilevel" haircut and way too much blush. Maybe just as a memento of a time in my life when I did things that were ridiculously stoopid and irresponsible, because those times came to an end soon after and I had to grow up and be an adult. I dunno.

4.) A drunk told me today that I was stylin', so it must be true, right? I mean, I'm going with the model of inebriation that causes a person to blurt out true comments to strangers due to a lack of inhibitions, rather than the model of inebriation that causes one to have no reliable judgment at all. Because it's to my advantage. And because obviously I'm always stylin'. That's my story and I'm sticking to it. Now I suppose I oughta go watch some football lest I be un-American.

xoxo