Two weeks ago Miden Wood, Logan Herries, and I teamed up to make a movie in 24 hours.
Logan Miden Amelia
It was difficult to set aside our differences because we all hate each other so very much but we managed. We received our official challenge at 6 p.m. on a Friday.
Genre: Working Girl/Shop Girl
Line of Dialogue: “Why are you singing?”
Prop: Fritz Lang’s Metropolis Postcard
We sat down to brainstorm over dinner at Friends Cafe. Friends Cafe was an odd place to brainstorm since the three of us aren’t really friends at all. We are nemeses. We talked about the conventions of Working Girl movies for about an hour before landing on Mary Tyler Moore.
If you’re not familiar with Mary Tyler Moore…
Our film was inspired by the following conversation.
Logan: I want to see a film where Mary Tyler Moore gets stabbed.
Amelia: (slams hands down on table) We can make that movie!
(Miden sits in silence, shoving her mouth full of Korean food.)
So, with the help of some friends, we made that movie!
Here is our final product!
During my weekend of walking around aimlessly, running errands, cringing at the worst broadcast of the Grammy’s in decades, and sitting through a glut of advertisements beating Valentine’s Day to a bloody pulp, I had a random assortment of musings that have absolutely no connection whatsoever. Typical
Are You There Grammy’s? It’s Me, Apathy
- The Grammy’s were terrible
- Apparently, the go-to hairstlye of 2012 is Bad Combover. Thank you, Justin Vernon of Bon Iver and Mr. Molesley from Downton Abbey for making balding the chic ‘do of the year.
- Adele’s music has been scientifically proven to induce sobbing, according to the Wall Street Journal. So really, she’s not some poor girl trying to get over a bad breakup; she’s a ruthless villain trying to destroy the world one heartbroken, slobbering mess at a time.
- I’ve watched more videos of Whitney Houston in the past few days than any white, upper-middle class male living at home has any right to. However, I’ve come to the conclusion my favorite Whitney is a toss up between “I Wanna Dance with Somebody” Whitney (a song my friends and I requested at our senior prom), and reality TV star Whitney. Yes, she was “The Voice of a Generation”, but clips like this show you she was really “The Comedic Voice of a Generation”.
- Words I have the misfortune of seeing in the future: Chris Brown, Grammy winner.
- Words I have the joy of writing without fear of libel: Chris Brown, convicted felon
And What Did You Do This Weekend?
- I recently got a library card, and while hanging out at the library on the weekends, have begun to wonder if this might be the catalyst my dating life needs to sputter out of reverse and into park. This weekend I saw the large print section overflowing with elderlies, the computers crowded with people muttering to themselves, and the DVD section being devoured by people fighting over the newest copy of Breaking Dawn. Of course, I stayed and scoped out the crowd. Nothing this week, but there’s nothing more productive to do on a three day weekend than troll the library.
- It was 75 degrees in Los Angeles this weekend.
- Our refrigerator hasn’t been working, which means that I’ve had the enviable task of eating all of the perishable food before it goes bad, and drinking all of the beer before it gets too warm. It’s been a rough week.
- I went on another date with my sister, this time to the mall. Horrifyingly, I had a great time.
Why Valentine’s Day Can Suck My Nuts
- I hate everyone who has someone special to spend Valentine’s Day with, during which they express their love and affection for each other. It’s disgusting. And yes, that includes you, Mom and Dad.
- I considered sending myself a box of chocolates at work to make it seem like someone loved me. Then I realized that would seem desperate, so I settled on an Edible Arrangements.
- If I see anyone, and I mean ANYONE, holding hands on, I will yell at them to get a room.
Things That Help, Thanks For Asking
- I will probably go see This Means War by myself today.
- If I don’t go see This Means War, I will rent Human Centipede, as I feel they both offer up the same sentiment, expressed slightly differently. Either way, Reese Witherspoon is in the middle.
- For lunch, I’m going to go to Applebee’s and order the 2 for $20 deal for myself. And I will finish both entrees.
- I received a card on Valentine’s Day from my grandparents with $10 inside. It totally made my day
I’ve lived in Los Angeles for going on 8 months, and it’s expected that I’ve come into contact with celebrities during my time here, because naturally most celebrities live in small cul-de-sac communities out in the suburbs, 90 minutes away from Hollywood. While I, like most everyone who lives here, have had some celebrity contact, it’s not exactly what you think…
You see, whenever I see a celebrity, I only see them from the back. I’ve never really seen a celebrity straight on, only from behind, and usually from far away. I don’t know if this is a common thing here, or if it’s just me, but I’m getting scarily good at identifying people from behind. And it’s not like the celebrities I see are really famous, they’re just kinda famous.
These occurrences all started when I came home for Thanksgiving from school because I had mono (long story…). I got off the plane and I was walking to baggage claim, I noticed I was walking behind Jennifer Garner. She was very short, and had brown hair, and was nondescript but for the back of her head. It looked distinctly like the back of Sydney Bristow’s head, (Secret Agent (and Overt Badass) from Alias), that I decided it MUST be The Back of Jennifer Garner. The back of her head also looked like the back of Elektra’s head, so that’s what really gave it away. As she was whisked away in a tinted limousine by her big burly security team into the welcoming arms of The Back of Ben Affleck, I basked in the glory of my first celebrity encounter. And you can never tell me otherwise.
Another such encounter I had was at a club in Hollywood when my friend Ross was visiting. We were hanging out in this super fancy club with loud music and really beautiful people (I guess that’s a thing down here), when the crowd parted and I saw something I knew I had seen many times before, but couldn’t place my finger on it. Then it hit me. That big, black head I noticed was attached to a tall, black man, that I was SURE was Cedric Yarborough. If you don’t know him, he’s the black cop from Reno 911!. Anyways, to make a long story short, I was in fan heaven, so I made Ross’ girlfriend take a picture of me with The Back of Cedric Yarborough. It was a great night.
Of course, my celebrity encounters were not just limited to these two. I’ve had plenty of other encounters with the backs of celebrities as well:
- Paul Walker (The Fast and the Furious) – walking across the crosswalk at the Burbank Airport. He was wearing sneakers and a backpack. He was really cool!
- Brad Garret (Everybody Loves Raymond)- shopping at Barnes & Noble with his children. The back of him is as tall as it looks on screen!
- Kim Richards (Escape To Witch Mountain)- making out with her boyfriend outside of a movie theater. She had a really nice ponytail, so she must be really nice as well!
- Leann Rimes (Adultery)- sitting at a booth behind me with her adulterer, Eddie Cibrian. She was wearing a fedora. I like Leann Rimes in fedoras, she should wear them more often!
Now, there was one time that I have seen a celebrity full on, in all their glory. One of my most favorite actors of all time works out at the same gym as I do. Yes, that’s right! I have seen Cole Hauser!!!!!!!
For those of you poor souls who don’t know Cole Hauser is (like that’s even possible!), you might know him better from his formidable resume:
Good Will Hunting – Billy McBride
The Hit List – Allan Campbell
The Cave – Jack McAllister
Pitch Black – William Johns
2 Fast 2 Furious – Carter Verone
Paparazzi – Bo Laramie
So, while I have only had the fortune of seeing the face of one “celebrity” so far, I look forward to seeing what the future holds for me. Maybe one day I can graduate from seeing the fat doppleganger of Steven Spielberg to seeing his hand, or his shoes, or even the back of his hat. I don’t ask for much, because I don’t need much to get excited.
Those who love me will readily admit that I am a big ham. They will happily spend at least an hour telling you how charming and adorable my insatiable cravings for attention and affirmation are. They’ll also tell you how worth it putting up with me is because everything that comes out of my mouth is so clever and amazing that they would never want me to deny the world the joy of hearing it. Those who love me will tell you this because they know if they don’t, that I will light myself on fire and that they’ll be next.
I exaggerate (or do I?), but it is true that I love to perform. I have been known to start acting a little weird when I haven’t been on stage for a while. If I have ever done a dramatic monologue loosely based on Mufasa’s death scene from The Lion King for you, all I can say is that you really should have known what you were getting yourself into with me.
I guess I hadn’t given much thought to the roots of my hammy ways until recently, though, when my childhood best friend Kelly sent me some old home movies that her mom had transferred to DVD and put online. I spent an hour and a half watching old birthday parties, choreographed dances, and random play dates that we had insisted on filming. It was adorable, and I came away with several observations.
First, I guess have always been a camera hog. At one of Kelly’s birthday parties, everyone took turns during cake time playing camera man, giggling and filming the rest of the girls at the table. Can you guess who dodged camera duty? That’s right, this bitch. Instead, I followed the camera around, repeating, “This is Genevieve reporting for NBC live from Kelly’s dining room” for about five minutes before I began scream-singing “Everybody Wants to be a Cat” from the movie Aristocats. Yeah, you’re welcome, everyone.
Though I tried my 9-year-old damnedest to dominate birthday footage, my love of being on camera truly reached a fever pitch one afternoon when Kelly and I filmed a movie that I had written starring my four stuffed cats, Mizzy, Pickles, Soft Classsics*, and Fluffy. The basic plot of The Mizzy Movie is that all four cats are sisters, but Fluffy, the oldest, is a total bitch-diva. Fluffy leaves the others alone one night, and they order pizza, get a little rowdy, accidentally burst a gas line in the house, then accidentally light a match and the whole house explodes. Fluffy arrives home to discover the destruction, and as punishment, locks Mizzy in a shed, ties Pickles to a tree, and traps Soft Classics with a net. When the three heroes naturally escape, they retaliate by tying Fluffy up. Cuz that’ll show her. And, scene.
It wound up being a very rough, Blair-witchy type film. I acted as master puppeteer, narrator, and voice talent for all the characters. If there are any producers out there who think the The Mizzy Movie could be a success, I’d be happy to develop it further. My only stipulations are that it is still filmed with a hand held camera and I still get to play all the parts. Also, the gas leak is non-negotiable.
Kelly, I love you for sending this to me. Not only was it extremely cute, but it gave me some great insight into my present day personality, and allowed me to reach an important conclusion. Those who love me have no choice but to embrace the ham. It’s never going away.
*Soft Classics, or S.C. for short, is named so because the toy company had attatched a tag that looked like a collar with the brand title printed on it, and I assumed that was the cat’s name. Hammy, I was. Creative with names, not so much.
I started my new job yesterday. Before you lose your lunch with excitement, it’s just a reception gig. It is none too exciting, but steady work nonetheless. For me, this comes at a great time for a number of reasons. First, yesterday was Chinese New Year, launching the year of the dragon, which is my year, so it seemed a good day to start new things. Second, my bank account is dwindling, and I’m pretty sure I would go into some kind of withdrawal if I could not afford my tofu red curry on the regular. Finally, I discovered over the weekend that Keeping up with the Kardashians is on Netflix instant, and if I were not otherwise occupied I would spend the whole day watching it. 10 points to anyone who can guess how many episodes I watched on Sunday. Hint: it was more than the number of points you would get.
I’m pretty impressed with my brain today, because despite my best efforts to melt it, it is still functioning as of press time. Amazing, because I spent a solid 40 minutes of my Sunday entranced by the drama as Kim and her old nose bought a Bentley, punched Khloe for shutting a door in her face, pouted her way through a family ski trip, and then literally ran away from home because the rest of the krew had decided to stop watching her pout and instead go dogsledding. Her blatant cry for attention worked because Kardashians and Jenners alike apologized for making her feel bad, even though it was totally clear that she was being the asshole. Yeah, sorry Ben, but she’s still a major douche. Also, Bruce had a midlife crisis. Hilarious.
It is troubling that successful adult women can act this way on television and have everybody feel ok about it, and then give her a People’s Choice Award. It encourages a hideous amount of unjustified self-importance. I found myself embarrassed watching it, because I think I behaved a lot like that when I was in middle school, minus the Bentley, and, of course, the sex tape. There is a study that says that people who watch reality television accept and expect more drama in their lives. Given how many people watch reality tv, I guess I should probably hedge my bets and start throwing tantrums all the time. Kris Jenner types really respond to that, and they are clearly the most powerful kind of people.
But what I really like about the Kardashians is that not only are they constantly watching old home movies and crying together, they are also constantly learning lessons that a thinking human wouldn’t need to be taught. Khloe will wrap up an episode saying something like, “This was a good lesson for me. I learned that I shouldn’t set my brother up on a blind date and then go to the restaurant to spy on him.” Who knew? While she learned that, I learned that blind dates with Rob Kardashian are about as fun as a pap smear. Honestly, Khloe, we both should have known.
This week, I will apply all Kardashian thinking, contradictory though it may be, to my daily (namely my brand new workplace) life. Because I learned that the key to success is to scream a lot in desperate bids for attention, whine about how hard work is, and also be nice to my family. Who knew?
In honor of MLK Day and the most recent roasting of her on the Golden Globes (toally related), I offer this piece up for your mastication. Just call it an ode to all things odious…
Living in Los Angeles, you get celebrity updates from all sorts of news outlets, more so than you would anywhere else in America. And of course, since the blowout wedding and subsequent fairytale divorce, there has been no lack of fodder when it comes to the Kardashian klan, specifically Kim.
While most of the articles written about her have been justifiably negative (and the treatment of her (ex)husband, Mutant Taylor Lautner, even worse), there is one side of her that the tabloids, mainstream media, and Barbra Walters have all missed: gay rights activist.
It’s no secret that Kim Kardashian is gay friendly, as can be seen by her asexual best-friend-who-just-hasn’t-found-the-right-woman-yet, Jonathan . However, no one knew just how gay friendly ol’ Kimmy was until she single-handedly obliterated the ‘sanctity of marriage’ argument through her wedding of a lifetime to Mutant Taylor Lautner.
(As an aside, I would like to explain why I am referring to Kris Humphries as ‘Mutant Taylor Lautner’. Here’s why:)
(As a tangent of this aside, it would also be possible to refer to Taylor Lautner as ‘Mutant Alpaca’. Here’s why:)
For years, millions of Americans have argued the pros and cons of gay marriage, and have reached a stalemate. Opponents have resoundly defended that marriage is a sacred act between a man and a woman. Supporters have forcefully argued that marriage should be about love, regardless of gender. Kim Kardashian just took a giant shit on those who oppose gay marriage (and those who support any sort of long term committment in general. Like dieting) It’s really quite impressive that something billed as the American ‘Wedding of the Century’ could turn out to be the biggest P.R. stunt in support of gay marriage. Only Kim Kardashian could take the earnest belief in true love that red-blooded Americans felt while watching her wedding ceremony in a four-hour-two-night special on E!, and crush it between her extremely taut buttcheeks.
There is no argument against gay marriage anymore. Sanctity of marriage? More like sanctity of fulfilling contractual obligations with a television network. If you ever find yourself in an argument about gay marriage, all you have to do is say ‘Kim Kardashian’, and the argument is won. Maybe someday in the future, there will be a challenge to this ‘Wedding of the Century’ with a ‘Gay Wedding of the Century’, which is exactly the same as Kim’s except that there’s 7 fewer crystals.
So going forward, I ask that your opinions of ol’ Kimmy be tempered in light of this new perspective. History books will be rewritten to put Kim Kardashian in a revered place alongside Martin Luther King, Jr. and Susan B. Anthony as a true pioneer for human rights. I look forward to the day when my kids come home to me and say, “Dad, I have to right a report of gay rights activist Kim Kardashian.” I also look forward to taking my kids to her fabulously leopard-printed and diamond-encrusted grave at Madame Tussaud’s Wax Museum and paying homage to such a brave and fearless trailblazer.
Love ya, babe.
Welcome to the Golden Globes Live Blog Brought to You by Franzia®
This is a running commentary of this spectacular event, during which the commentators will attempt to finish a box of delicious and mature Franzia® wine before the telecast is over.
Please join us: Golden Globes Live Blog
Everybody get excited, because it’s the Golden Globes! Ben and Gen are going to be viewing and commenting on the whole shit show from their respective coasts. Each is responsible for demolishing one bladder of boxed wine over the course of the event. To watch what happens, click Golden Globes Preview
I love Nicki Minaj. I hope the name “The Ironical Chronicle” doesn’t suggest my love for Nicki is in any way ironic. It’s the real thing. Last month, my friend Mary introduced me to the Big Sean & Nicki Minaj – Dance (ASS) (Official Music Video) and I haven’t been the same since. I can’t stop watching it.
The video has two highlights. First, the word “ASS” pops up on the screen in multiple languages throughout the video. Watching the Big Sean & Nicki Minaj – Dance (ASS) (Official Music Video) is like purchasing the entire Rosetta Stone series and only learning the word “ASS”. Unlike Rosetta Stone, IT’S FREE!
The second highlight, as I’m sure you could all guess, is Nicki Minaj’s ass/verse.
The only low point is Big Sean. I don’t know what it is, maybe it’s the fact that his ass is so unimpressive compared to Nicki’s, but I don’t enjoy his ass/verses.
This winter break I’ve had a lot of time to think about ways to improve my life and the lives of others so I’ve taken the liberty of editing/fixing the Big Sean & Nicki Minaj – Dance (ASS) (Official Music Video). Here is my edited version. I hope you enjoy it!