where is my beige iridescent lipstick?

while perusing the internet for celebrity gossip, i found out patrick swayze has been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer (not the most respectable way to find out when all you're looking for is another link to javier bardem's nudie stills...yes. i said 'another'). anyway, i remember when dirty dancing came out and everyone went crazy for it...my best friend at the time was even reenacting the crawling across the floor scene for her talent show (we went to different schools if you were wondering why i said "her" talent show instead of "our" talent show. how she managed to do something this sexual for a public school in the 7th grade is beyond me).

i never got to see dirty dancing at the theaters, so i didn't know the glory i was missing. i just knew that summer suddenly perms, cut-off denim shorts and keds were in style. years after it was released, after the perms were grown out and the cut-off denims and keds were donated to the DAV, i finally got to watch it on VHS. i adored it. i am supposed to adore that movie...being of the female persuasion...right (contrary to popular belief, i AM a woman. i am not elton john or gary oldman or fucking phillip seymour hoffman, who are, unfortunately, my wonderful myheritage.com look-a-likes. i like these guys and all, but i don't really want to be told i look like them)?!?! i'm not trying to be sexist or whatever, but i honestly don't think i know a female that hasn't enjoyed this movie.

i even went to college a few miles from where the actual resort is located. i don't know what it is about dirty dancing, but it brings out the squishy girly hearts and puppies side of me. it's not like i actually really like any of the actors and i don't even know who directed it, which is what usually attracts me to a movie (thus my juliette binoche, alfonso cuaron, quentin tarantino, pedro "i always spell his last name wrong" almodovar, diego luna/gael garcia bernal, LOTR, kate winslet collections). and nothing really annoys me--not even the sister singing "hula hana of kamana whala hula bay"--about it.

it. is. just. perfect.

so i am writing this to support patrick swayze. i am by no means the biggest fan of his, but one of his movies has made me smile on my darkest days.

as for those of you who have never given its sister movie, havana nights, a chance, i suggest you do so immediately.

i've got a brand new pair of roller skates...

i found a brand new columbia 3-in-1 coat at the thrift store last weekend (i say "the" thrift store as if it's the only one in this damn city). i was so excited. it was $6 and red, red, red! almost the exact one that i wanted from bass pro shops (ugh, thank god i don't have to venture into that store again. never have i felt so out of place. well...except for that time i went to a "goth" party. and all the frat parties i stumbled upon at RU. and the WoW parties i attended--hell, i felt out of place with gamers. you can tell how confident i am--i guess i always feel out of place so i suppose i should have felt right at home with the manly men in the sporting goods store) only it's lacking a hood.

i'm just living to be lying by your side

i took gambit to get his rabies shot the other day. only $18 for a three year vaccination! however, the vet said he has gingivitis and he'll have to have dental surgery before 2009. now, i haven't been to the dentist in years (i am deathly afraid of having teefs pulled. i know that's a little back-asswards since not going to the dentist would most likely result in the teef pulling festivities, but that's my excuse so mmleah), but i have already made the appointment for bit-bit. funny how i will spend exorbitant amounts of money on my cat for health issues but balk at a $20 copay for a personal prescription.

anyway.

i was thinking of re-reading the dark tower books. gotta love some roland and oy. but i need to catch up on my non-DK stephen king novels. i've read quite a few (like IT, a book i will NEVER, ever read again because it scared me so fucking bad. if you can get past that first 100 page hurdle of IT, you will be hooked. people are always telling me how they watched the tv movie, and i'm like, uhhhm, read the book, 'cause the scariest thing about the movie was the fact that dr. frankenfurter played pennywise the clown) but looking at my dad's bookshelf, i noticed i am woefully far behind.

i need to pick up a copy of the stand (which is a dark tower book i haven't read...shut up. i know) because my copy is missing the first 5 chapters. i started to read the shining the other day (someone asked me, "haven't you seen the movie?" and i was all like "have you?" i mean what does this have to do with me reading the book? besides, i'm sorry, but that shit was lame. and yes, i am talking about the stanley kubrick-jack nicholson version. maybe i need to rewatch the shining as well. let me put that on my netflix list). anyway, i had to put the book down, otherwise i'd have the lights on every night. salem's lot did that to me. random taps at my windows will never sound the same again.

off the top of my head list of SK books i've read:

salem's lot
the shining
different seasons
thinner
the dark tower series (of course)
skeleton crew
it
cujo
bag of bones
the eyes of the dragon
misery
(parts of) four past midnight
nightmares and dreamscapes
the green mile
hearts in atlantis
night shift
insomnia
dreamcatcher
everything's eventual

see? i need to catch up. 'cause he has a hell of a lot more books out there.

sigh

living is easy with eyes closed...

i want a bean feast

i am continually disappointed in the whole "secret santa" game. every year upon opening my gift and discovering a level of suckatude i didn't think existed, i decree that "i will not be doing it next christmas"...and yet every christmas, i find myself drawing a name from that damnable hat. or cup. or bowl...ok...receptacle. i suppose the negativity takes away from the spirit of giving and of the season, but shit, i am tired of receiving crap gifts.

despite my misgivings, i do actually look forward to secret santa--i have a naive hope that the person who gets my name is as kick-ass a gift giver as i am--see, i can be an optimist. however, my name always tends to end up in the hands of someone who thinks a chia pet is a great present...you know, i've never actually received a chia pet. i did give one to my sister once, but she actually wanted it.

my gifts usually consist of garbage. i got a burned candle one year with the tell-tale black crayon price marking of a thrift store on the bottom of it--not that i am above thrift stores. nay, nay, i practically live in freakin' thrift stores, but when the price limit of a gift is $20, i expect a little more than a 75-cent used candle. hell, they sell new ones for less. fucker. another christmas i got a knockoff esprit sweatshirt with a masking tape price tag upon it (could you at least attempt to hide the fact you're giving me your yard sale rejects?) accompanied by a shower cap. yes. a shower cap. and yet another time (you see what a sucker i am?), i got THE WORST christmas gift of all: a damn ornament. who the hell thinks an ornament is an acceptable christmas present?!?! "gee, thanks for the tacky bauble i won't be able to use for an entire year." inevitably, it is some god-awful mechanical musical hot mess of a thing that will not see the tree the following year. it will see a thrift store and most likely end up in the hands of a serial bad gifter. and the cycle continues.

is it too hard to read what i wrote on "the list" (yes, i agree that a list is a little too veruca salt, but in my experience, people always insist on "the list" under the pretense that if your name is drawn by someone who doesn't know you well, then they have an idea of what to get for you. but it really is just the 'nice' way to attempt to prevent the shite gift syndrome. it's pointless for me though, because i still end up with the singing bass)?!?!

my suggestions for this year were clear (or so i thought):

starbucks
target
aeropostale

what did i get? a giftcard to FYE. i don't shop there. i hate that overpriced waste of space store. in fact, i don't think anybody shops there. it's always empty when i walk by it. there is a fucking starbucks every 10 feet in this city (in most citys, actually), and you couldn't drop in and get me a pound of coffee or a mug?!

sigh. i set myself up every year. i get all excited and convince myself my name won't end up with someone like the frozen dinner giving mom from better off dead or grandma from the ref ("slipper socks. MEDIUM!"). oh well. as far as i'm concerned, secret santa is a MF. maybe next year i'll draw my own name like kevin in the office.

we will meet in the place where there is no darkness

i'm tired of baking cookies. i just want to watch it's a wonderful life...and eat said cookies. my favorite scene of it's a wonderful life has always been the flashback of george in the pharmacy. not the ear-boxing child abuse scene (which is quite disturbing), but the ice cream and coconut scene. "you don't like coconut!?" i don't know why...perhaps it's my love of ice cream. i can't believe i don't own this movie. hint, hint. does anyone remember when every MF channel would play it for the entire month of december? it doesn't happen anymore. i noticed it a few years ago, but its gradual absence is sort of 1984-ish. now ABC or some other network plays it ONE night a year and that's it. i miss those days of 24-hour it's a wonderful life...even if some of the showings were the crap colorized versions. am i imagining this? it did happen, right?

kat von don't

watching la ink is like getting my teefs pulled. i can feel the dumb oozing through the TV. the funny thing is, i really enjoyed watching kat von d on miami ink, and found her endearing. but an hour's worth of kat von d is about an hour too much 'dude', 'rockin', 'stoked' and 'rad' for me. i guess i can only handle her in small doses (that, or she had really great edits on miami ink). she comes across as a self-involved whine-bag...i mean, how many pictures of yourself do you need in your gaudy tattoo shop? does the audience need to visit a plastic surgeon with your egotistical jem and the holograms wannabe ass? and as for the episodes, staged much? i mean, damn, i know most reality shows are staged, but la ink isn't trying to hide it at all. i keep giving it chances, but it's disappointing, dull and i can't handle her lame voice-overs. ugh.