So, yeah. Casablanca is right out of the running for Most Romantic Movie Ever. (Using of course, the highly idiosyncratic, but obviously correct, Andrea criteria.) In fact, watching it now, middle-aged and wiser-to-the-ways-of-the-heart Andrea (as opposed to even crazier and more dysfunctional teenaged Andrea) has been quite won over to Mr Barma's position. Namely that Ilse is just a cheating, needy whore who fucks over two guys (one of whom is both a righteous hero and a man who would obviously do anything for her) right good. But we aren't supposed to notice that, 'cause she looks like Ingrid Bergman. Also, that when Rick sends her off with her husband at the end of the movie, it's less a grand romantic sacrifice--which is how I remembered it--than a sign of Rick's having been somehow ennobled by Victor's good example to finally do a good, decent, right thing. Plus, he's probably figured out that if he goes off with Ilse, she's gonna cheat on him too, later if not sooner.
Also? Oh my goodness, the hoyay in this film. Most of the male characters have, at the least, a crush on Rick. I mean, think about it. Why for example, does *Sam* run off to North Africa with Rick? He wasn't working for him in Paris. He was just an employee in the bar Rick hung out in. Okay, so the Nazis were occupying Paris and, I dunno, I have no idea how they felt towards black American piano players, so maybe getting out of Dodge was advisable, but unless there's something the movie ain't tellin' us, Sam could just go back home to Chicago or New Orleans or wherever. (I, of course, like to think there is something the movie ain't telling us and that Sam shot a man just to see him die, so therefore he can't go back to America either, and it's this plus the man-love that makes him pack up his suitcase and go with Rick. But, then, I make up fictional life stories for my fellow bus passengers, so you know how I am.)
Now, none of this is intended as a dis at Casablanca which is a very entertaining movie, full of classic dialogue. It's not, however, the big touching romance it is reputed to be. I cannot even endorse Mr Barma's opinion that the true romance in this movie is Sascha's love for Yvonne. Mr Barma maintains that the fact that Sascha remains devoted to Yvonne despite the fact that she's screwing Rick and throwing herself at random Germans is proof of true love. I maintain that it's more likely proof he has deep psychological issues and only goes for chicks who repeatedly reject him.
So then, in other classic movie news, Mr Barma and I watched Dark Passage. Because obviously it was Bogart night in Shangri-Lowell. OMG. What a fucked up film. I must say, I was disappointed in the ending/climax because I was expecting some major out-of-left-field plot twist and...no. The identity of the real killer was pretty anticlimactic. But Lauren Bacall (Irene) as prisoner-groupie (who knew they had those way back in the 40s?), the totally emasculated Bob who's engaged to a woman he hates but who still keeps courting Irene and dropping by to *not* have sex (since she can easily hide Vincent/Humphrey Bogart in her bedroom because "Bob won't look in there!"), the weird lonely cab driver who reads people's faces and, apparently, hooks them up with discredited and unlicensed plastic surgeons...it goes on. Totally weirdness.
The whole plastic surgery thing put me in mind of Minority Report and Tom Cruise's blackmarket eyeball replacement by the shady doc. I was wondering if that was in fact a homage to Dark Passage, but Mr Indemnity tells me that the practicing-medicine-without-a-license surgeon cosmetically operating on a fugitive in skeezy conditions is a whole trope and is in a lot of movies, so perhaps not.
But my favorite, favorite part of Dark Passage? That as Vincent wakes up from his surgery and notices his jacket (!) is now off, the doc tells him that oh, yeah, he had to remove it so he could borrow some skin from Vincent's armpit. Okay, if you don't know enough to plan ahead and put your patient in a johnny *before* the operation starts, the board of registration probably should have pulled your license, y'know? Love it!
xoxo
Friday, January 30, 2009
maximum WTF
Yeah, yeah, I know, I know. I have movie reviews to write and great classics of American film to dissect, but before I have the time and the energy to do that, I must first register a big ol' WTF? with you all.
Did you see the news item that the woman who had the (fertility treatment-caused) octuplets in Cali has six older children? Excuse me? Let's leave aside the biomedical ethics of the type of fertility treatments that cause/allow women to basically have litters, which of course mean the babies cannot go anywhere near term, and thus have a huge risk of all the many horrible and the many, many less-horrible problems that severe prematurity can bring, plus the costs thereof even if the babies turn out healthy. Let's just discuss a world, or rather, a country in which it's apparently okay to waste our healthcare dollars on expensive treatments to allow people who already have six kids to have more. If you're having trouble getting knocked up with baby #7, maybe that's god's, or the universe's, way of telling you it's time to stop fucking breeding, 'k?
Every single MD involved in that woman's conception needs to have their license revoked. That's all I am saying.
Oh, it makes me so mad. Gah.
xoxo
Did you see the news item that the woman who had the (fertility treatment-caused) octuplets in Cali has six older children? Excuse me? Let's leave aside the biomedical ethics of the type of fertility treatments that cause/allow women to basically have litters, which of course mean the babies cannot go anywhere near term, and thus have a huge risk of all the many horrible and the many, many less-horrible problems that severe prematurity can bring, plus the costs thereof even if the babies turn out healthy. Let's just discuss a world, or rather, a country in which it's apparently okay to waste our healthcare dollars on expensive treatments to allow people who already have six kids to have more. If you're having trouble getting knocked up with baby #7, maybe that's god's, or the universe's, way of telling you it's time to stop fucking breeding, 'k?
Every single MD involved in that woman's conception needs to have their license revoked. That's all I am saying.
Oh, it makes me so mad. Gah.
xoxo
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
"bulging brides"
This is, apparently, some kind of reality TV show that I personally had never heard of until I came across shocked and disgusted mention of in someone else's blog. Here's the premise: the bride buys an expensive dress that is too small for her and a team of nutritionists, trainers, coaches, whatev, spend six weeks putting her through hell so she can go from like a size six to a size two and fit into it. Because, obviously, being as tiny as possible on Your Big Day is the most important thing in the universe.
Can I take a time out here to observe I don't understand the whole Your Big Day phenomenon anyway? Spending tens of thousands of dollars that could actually be an awesome down payment on a nice house or condo on some fugly white dress, some soon-to-be dead flowers, and a party for a bunch of people, only some of whom you actually like but all of whom you hope will write you checks big enough to make inviting them worthwhile, is an exercise in stupidity. But then again, I got married five months pregnant wearing...wait for it...wait for it...sweatpants (ha!) by a justice of the peace within spitting distance of the Seabrook nuclear reactor, so WTF do I know? (It's okay, you can take the time here to hum the banjo music from Deliverance and think, hmm, I just cannot imagine why *that* marriage didn't last.) But, anyway, the idea of a wedding being the most important day in a woman's life and therefore she needs to look and be treated like a princess may--may--just have made a tiny bit of sense back in the day when that was the crowning achievement of a girl's life and marriage was forever, but nowadays when women have careers and the chances of your marriage lasting hover around 50-50, it's (and I'll use again the only word applicable) stupid. But it only seems to be increasing.
Tangent over. Anyway, the blog entry I read about this show was particularly horrified that one of the trainers was yelling at the woman during her workout that the workout was an "infidelity inhibitor." Um, yeah. Okay. Perhaps for her, because after you spend 45 minutes on the elliptical machine you probably ain't gonna go right out and pick up random guys to bang. A person's gotta conserve *some* energy for wedding planning. But I don't think they meant it that way, y'know?
Do these people learn nothing from the tabloids? If there's one thing the whole Jennifer/Brad/Angelina debacle taught us all, it's that no matter how conventionally hot looking you are, it won't necessarily keep your husband's dick in his pants. C'mon now.
xoxo
Can I take a time out here to observe I don't understand the whole Your Big Day phenomenon anyway? Spending tens of thousands of dollars that could actually be an awesome down payment on a nice house or condo on some fugly white dress, some soon-to-be dead flowers, and a party for a bunch of people, only some of whom you actually like but all of whom you hope will write you checks big enough to make inviting them worthwhile, is an exercise in stupidity. But then again, I got married five months pregnant wearing...wait for it...wait for it...sweatpants (ha!) by a justice of the peace within spitting distance of the Seabrook nuclear reactor, so WTF do I know? (It's okay, you can take the time here to hum the banjo music from Deliverance and think, hmm, I just cannot imagine why *that* marriage didn't last.) But, anyway, the idea of a wedding being the most important day in a woman's life and therefore she needs to look and be treated like a princess may--may--just have made a tiny bit of sense back in the day when that was the crowning achievement of a girl's life and marriage was forever, but nowadays when women have careers and the chances of your marriage lasting hover around 50-50, it's (and I'll use again the only word applicable) stupid. But it only seems to be increasing.
Tangent over. Anyway, the blog entry I read about this show was particularly horrified that one of the trainers was yelling at the woman during her workout that the workout was an "infidelity inhibitor." Um, yeah. Okay. Perhaps for her, because after you spend 45 minutes on the elliptical machine you probably ain't gonna go right out and pick up random guys to bang. A person's gotta conserve *some* energy for wedding planning. But I don't think they meant it that way, y'know?
Do these people learn nothing from the tabloids? If there's one thing the whole Jennifer/Brad/Angelina debacle taught us all, it's that no matter how conventionally hot looking you are, it won't necessarily keep your husband's dick in his pants. C'mon now.
xoxo
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
sexist joke about aging
In lieu of actual content today, let me pass along a joke one of my co-workers emailed me this morning. I thought it was relatively clever for an email joke.
THE GEOGRAPHY OF A WOMAN
Between 18 and 22, a woman is like Africa , half discovered, half wild, fertile and naturally beautiful!
Between 23 and 30, a woman is like Europe , well developed and open to trade, especially for someone with cash.
Between 31 and 35, a woman is like Spain , very hot, relaxed and convinced of her own beauty.
Between 36 and 40, a woman is like Greece , gently aging but still a warm and desirable place to visit.
Between 41 and 50, a woman is like Great Britain, with a glorious and all conquering past.
Between 51 and 60, a woman is like Israel, has been through war and doesn't make the same mistakes twice,takes care of business.
Between 61 and 70, a woman is like Canada, self-preserving but open to meeting new people.
After 70, she becomes like Tibet, wildly beautiful, with a mysterious past and the wisdom of the ages...only those with an adventurous spirit and a thirst for spiritual knowledge visit there.
THE GEOGRAPHY OF A MAN
Between 1 and 80, a man is like Illinois, ruled by nuts....
xoxo
THE GEOGRAPHY OF A WOMAN
Between 18 and 22, a woman is like Africa , half discovered, half wild, fertile and naturally beautiful!
Between 23 and 30, a woman is like Europe , well developed and open to trade, especially for someone with cash.
Between 31 and 35, a woman is like Spain , very hot, relaxed and convinced of her own beauty.
Between 36 and 40, a woman is like Greece , gently aging but still a warm and desirable place to visit.
Between 41 and 50, a woman is like Great Britain, with a glorious and all conquering past.
Between 51 and 60, a woman is like Israel, has been through war and doesn't make the same mistakes twice,takes care of business.
Between 61 and 70, a woman is like Canada, self-preserving but open to meeting new people.
After 70, she becomes like Tibet, wildly beautiful, with a mysterious past and the wisdom of the ages...only those with an adventurous spirit and a thirst for spiritual knowledge visit there.
THE GEOGRAPHY OF A MAN
Between 1 and 80, a man is like Illinois, ruled by nuts....
xoxo
Monday, January 26, 2009
holy crap! marcy!
So, yesterday when Mr Indemnity and I were leaving the bar where I had that very ill-advised pumpkin martini, I picked up the last copy of stuff@night that was lying on the table in the foyer. Now, as careful readers of this blog will already know, I never actually go out and when I do, it's not to the kind of hip, young, and/or swanky places featured in glossy bi-weekly magazines, but of the multitudes of free reading material available for perusing on the T or looking at in my office between patients, stuff@night is one of my faves. I stuck it in my bag yesterday and then didn't think much of it.
Today, however, while I was flatironing my hair before coming to work (see: tragic tragic dry ends), I took it out and started flipping through it. It was the Boston Bodies issue, about working out and so forth. Most of it was taken up with their feature on "the best bodies in Boston." And there, on page 32, was my acupuncturist Marcy. (Sans shirt but with nothing untoward uncovered, of course.) I was like, OMG! I know her! On the one hand, this is very cool, and I guess I'm not totally surprised. She's sort of extroverted. On the other hand, unexpectedly coming across a photo of one of your healthcare providers wearing nothing but yoga bottoms is something that doesn't exactly happen every day.
I'd recommend you all go out and look at this yourselves, so the image of my wicked in-shape acupuncturist will be affixed in your mind every time I talk about her, but the reason, apparently, there was only one copy of this left in that bar, is that it's the Jan 13-26th issue, and probably today they've all been replaced everywhere with the next issue. Day late and a dollar short as usual.
xoxo
Addendum! No, wait, it's online: http://stuffatnight.com/photos/features/category8042/picture227537.aspx
Today, however, while I was flatironing my hair before coming to work (see: tragic tragic dry ends), I took it out and started flipping through it. It was the Boston Bodies issue, about working out and so forth. Most of it was taken up with their feature on "the best bodies in Boston." And there, on page 32, was my acupuncturist Marcy. (Sans shirt but with nothing untoward uncovered, of course.) I was like, OMG! I know her! On the one hand, this is very cool, and I guess I'm not totally surprised. She's sort of extroverted. On the other hand, unexpectedly coming across a photo of one of your healthcare providers wearing nothing but yoga bottoms is something that doesn't exactly happen every day.
I'd recommend you all go out and look at this yourselves, so the image of my wicked in-shape acupuncturist will be affixed in your mind every time I talk about her, but the reason, apparently, there was only one copy of this left in that bar, is that it's the Jan 13-26th issue, and probably today they've all been replaced everywhere with the next issue. Day late and a dollar short as usual.
xoxo
Addendum! No, wait, it's online: http://stuffatnight.com/photos/features/category8042/picture227537.aspx
Sunday, January 25, 2009
hair thoughts
I'm going to lead you through the stream-of-consciousness that led me to this post. C'mon now. It's Sunday and it's 9 degrees. What the hell else you got better to do than read this crap? (Yeah, I know, anything.)
Be that as it may. While soaking in my tub, I was thinking about romantic movies, still and/or again. I was thinking about Almost Famous, which like The Apartment is one of my favorite movies, and which contains a very sweet love story, but which I wouldn't consider a romantic movie per se. So then I started thinking about Kate Hudson and how cute and charming and luminous she is in that film and how in all her recent publicity for the horrific Bride Wars piece of shit, she looks so hard and unattractive. There's a woman who has aged very badly over the past ten years, and that surprises me, since "cute" usually ages pretty well.
So then, I started thinking of examples of that, and of course Drew Barrymore came to mind. I know amongst my friends and blog readers Drew has her detractors, but to me, she was cute 20 years ago, she was cute 10 years ago, she's cute now, and I'm sure she'll still be cute in another 10 years. And thinking of her detractors, I thought of our Mr Indemnity making sport (along with much of the rest of the interwebs) of her Golden Globe hairdo. Which, if you haven't seen it, was an interpretation of 1960's style big hair. A very messy interpretation, which led to lots of joking about Ms Barrymore looking like she had sex in the limo on the way over. If so in reality, good for her! Having sex in even the most spacious of limos whilst wearing a formal gown seems daunting to me (though I guess a couple of generations of prom goers now will have proven me wrong on that) but maybe she just gave her guy a little head, and he was responsible for messing up her hair. If so in reality, again, good for her! But even if that hairdo was intentional, not accidental, I still gotta give her props for ambition, if not execution.
*Because*, I was thinking, hair this decade has been hella boring. We went from big hair in the 60s to flat hair in the 70s to uber-big hair in the 80s to uber-flat hair in the 90s and then...this decade? Just neutral and blah. The only exciting thing that happened was the chunky, multi-colored highlight trend of 2001-2004ish, which while distressing to people who like a more natural look, suited me just fine. I had them on and off and I looked good. But fashion is fickle and since then, nothing much. There was that brief bob trend in 2007 with everyone and their sister copying Mrs Cruise, including me (involuntarily, I might add) but otherwise it's been long to medium hair with long layers, a totally unobjectionable haircut--no one's gonna look back at pictures from 2008 twenty years from now and cringe, unlike say 1988--but enough's enough. Snoozefest. Oh, they try to push the pixie cut, but face it, unless you are very skinny and frail like Mrs Beckham or Mia Farrow before her, or so very very beautiful that hair is actually a distraction from your flawless face, like Halle Berry, it's usually a big mistake, and that leaves out the vast majority of us.
So here's the thing. I need to buck up and go to the cunty hairdresser soon, because my ends are tragic. I'm thinking of, as I've said, springing for professional coloring, and I need at least a trim to fix those tragic dried out ends. But honestly? I'm gonna end up with long layers and a variation of the non-exciting single process color I have now, and what the hell fun is that?
Please invent some wacky hair trend I can follow. Thx.
xoxo
Be that as it may. While soaking in my tub, I was thinking about romantic movies, still and/or again. I was thinking about Almost Famous, which like The Apartment is one of my favorite movies, and which contains a very sweet love story, but which I wouldn't consider a romantic movie per se. So then I started thinking about Kate Hudson and how cute and charming and luminous she is in that film and how in all her recent publicity for the horrific Bride Wars piece of shit, she looks so hard and unattractive. There's a woman who has aged very badly over the past ten years, and that surprises me, since "cute" usually ages pretty well.
So then, I started thinking of examples of that, and of course Drew Barrymore came to mind. I know amongst my friends and blog readers Drew has her detractors, but to me, she was cute 20 years ago, she was cute 10 years ago, she's cute now, and I'm sure she'll still be cute in another 10 years. And thinking of her detractors, I thought of our Mr Indemnity making sport (along with much of the rest of the interwebs) of her Golden Globe hairdo. Which, if you haven't seen it, was an interpretation of 1960's style big hair. A very messy interpretation, which led to lots of joking about Ms Barrymore looking like she had sex in the limo on the way over. If so in reality, good for her! Having sex in even the most spacious of limos whilst wearing a formal gown seems daunting to me (though I guess a couple of generations of prom goers now will have proven me wrong on that) but maybe she just gave her guy a little head, and he was responsible for messing up her hair. If so in reality, again, good for her! But even if that hairdo was intentional, not accidental, I still gotta give her props for ambition, if not execution.
*Because*, I was thinking, hair this decade has been hella boring. We went from big hair in the 60s to flat hair in the 70s to uber-big hair in the 80s to uber-flat hair in the 90s and then...this decade? Just neutral and blah. The only exciting thing that happened was the chunky, multi-colored highlight trend of 2001-2004ish, which while distressing to people who like a more natural look, suited me just fine. I had them on and off and I looked good. But fashion is fickle and since then, nothing much. There was that brief bob trend in 2007 with everyone and their sister copying Mrs Cruise, including me (involuntarily, I might add) but otherwise it's been long to medium hair with long layers, a totally unobjectionable haircut--no one's gonna look back at pictures from 2008 twenty years from now and cringe, unlike say 1988--but enough's enough. Snoozefest. Oh, they try to push the pixie cut, but face it, unless you are very skinny and frail like Mrs Beckham or Mia Farrow before her, or so very very beautiful that hair is actually a distraction from your flawless face, like Halle Berry, it's usually a big mistake, and that leaves out the vast majority of us.
So here's the thing. I need to buck up and go to the cunty hairdresser soon, because my ends are tragic. I'm thinking of, as I've said, springing for professional coloring, and I need at least a trim to fix those tragic dried out ends. But honestly? I'm gonna end up with long layers and a variation of the non-exciting single process color I have now, and what the hell fun is that?
Please invent some wacky hair trend I can follow. Thx.
xoxo
more bad writing
On this morning's news, in a story about a Suffolk University student injured by falling ice, we hear "despite her countless stitches..." Um, no. I'm fairly sure her ER doc not only counted how many stitches s/he put in, s/he documented them too.
Idiots.
xoxo
Idiots.
xoxo
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