Dirt Roads to City Streets

A blog in search of an identity and a focus.

Name:
Location: Canada

Wednesday, November 23, 2005

I'm a bastard, it's true (sucks to be you...)

I caught the new Madonna video the other night. Sigh... When did Madonna get so creepy looking? Remember when everyone was copying her by wearing the zillion chains and lace gloves and doing the whole Boy-Toy thing? Or, even a few years later, when she was offending people by kissing the black Jesus and we thought that was cool? Or her sophisticated Evita phase, or her raunchy Dick Tracy hanky-panky (nothing like a good spany) era? Or even a few years ago when she was all "edgy", going to see female strippers and hanging with Ali G? Yeah, what happened to that? Now, she's dancing in a leotard and I felt icky when I caught a flash of ass-cheek hanging out. As I watched her work her mojo and the camera follow her sashaying ass, I kept thinking: Dude, that's someone's mom. And it was all kinds of wrong for all kinds of reasons. And I realized that somewhere along the way, people stopped wanting to be Madonna. Now, they don't even want to watch Madonna.

Personally, I blame Guy Ritchie.

Even though I kinda like the song, I don't think I'll be able to listen to it very often without the leotard image ruining it for me. Madonna, it's time to face the same sad facts as Elton John and Rod Stewart before you: at some point, hire young, pretty people to act out the love story and stop scaring your fans!

What else is going on? Oh, watched an "adult" film the other night. And part of me knows that these films aren't intended to be of the highest quality, but as I was watching, I realized that they were re-running footage--while the scene was still in progress! So, it was like: head-bob, head-bob, glance over shoulder, close eyes... identical head-bob, head-bob, glance over shoulder, close eyes. Come on! When did this become acceptable filmmaking?

That was not, however, the weirdest revelation about the film. I'm watching as the camera pans to an extreme close-up of an ass in motion. Because of the camera angle (not to mention the proximity to the action), I'm suddenly reminded of a change purse I had as a child: sort of a dark pinkish-red pebbly-textured leatherette deal. And I realized again that these films are not being made for women, because how many men are critiquing film technique and reminiscing about accessories while watching?

Perhaps I'll just chalk it up to reason #572 why I'm going to hell. Oh, and Kelly? Still in Paris. Still hate Kelly (that's reason #573 right there...)

Monday, November 21, 2005

Relax, said the night man...

Today, I moved a web site into production, assisted a few clients in answering questions, and worked on policies. Today, Kelly woke up in Paris, had a chocolate-filled croissant, spent a few hours at the convention centre, scheduled her visit to the Eiffel Tower, and started making plans for spending time in London at the end of the week.

Still hate Kelly.

In other news, I'm starting to think about maybe having a post-Christmas party. There's no time no before Christmas, and I'm overdue (since we didn't have a Christmas party last year). Maybe I'll call it a Festivus party...

Sunday, November 20, 2005

The sun'll come out...tomorrow...

Just returned from the farm. En route, I saw the most amazing sunset. The entire western sky was filled with clouds, catching the light and turning shades of brilliant orange and red. As the minutes ticked by, the colours became more muted, finally ending as shades of mauve, faded red-black, and an almost, barely-there olive. All this happened, fortuitously, in the 20 minutes or so that I headed due west of Lethbridge, so I had the whole show conveniently playing out across my windshield. Luckily, everyone else on the road was behaving themselves, so I didn't have to keep more than a single eye on the highway.

Speaking of eyes... spent much of the weekend with my eyeballs glued to a computer screen. Not much of a switch for me, but rather than reading for pleasure, I was doing bookwork for the company. Could have been worse, I guess. I'm not 100% sure how, but it could have been. T, the cat who owns mom, didn't decide to lay in the middle of the paperwork, which was a small boon. He is growing fuglier every day, swear to God. He used to be sort of runt-like, with long, whispy ear hair (cuter than it sounds). Now, the ear hair is gone, the long, gorgeous black hair is turning chocolate brown, and he's no longer little and cute. He fugly. Damn, he fugly (reminds me of our nickname for one of Leon's girlfriends!).

Also spent some quality time catching up on movies. Watched
The Chronicles of Riddick. I always forget how hot Vin Diesel is (especially in that role, with his low, gravely voice). Also watched To Live and Die in LA, mostly to make mom and Shan watch William Petersen's dangly bits. What can I say? The man is sex on a stick. And in those tight jeans? Honey, don't get me started.

Only a few weeks left before the Christmas party, and I think I've found the ensemble I'll be wearing. Fingers crossed!


Kelly still in Paris. Still hate Kelly...

Thursday, November 17, 2005

On the bookshelf

Forgot to list off the books I'm reading and what's on deck and what's newly scratched off my to-read list.

Reading:
- Running With Scissors (Augusten Burroughs) - apparently, I'm planning to read this man's life backwards, because I've already read and adored and recommended and forced on people his later memoir Dry. Here's a man who lived a life so far removed from my own experience that it's like being an Anthropologist on Mars (another great book...read it years ago and still recommend).
- Fluke and Practical Demonkeeping (Christopher Moore) - because any author worth reading is worth reading in stereo, I always say. I've just started reading Fluke (but got hooked after finding an amazing chapter online at the Today show book site - go there, trust me. I've picked up so many books after sneaking a peek at them there), but it's kinda got me hooked. Demon-keeping was his first novel, and is too weird for a one-line synopsis. Trust me on that one, too.

Just finished:
- Me Talk Pretty One Day (David Sedaris) - odd and the kind of thing that makes you go "Dude...except for the reams of illicit drugs this man consumed, and the bizarre performance art he perpetrated on society, and, well, the oodles of gay sex, I could be this guy..." Well, maybe not, since I didn't have a lisp as a child. However, it's a great read and truly odd and unusual.
- We Thought You Would Be Prettier (Laurie Notaro) - another book that made me wonder why more of the people who write for fun instead of profit are not, instead, writing for profit. It was funny, but I couldn't help feeling like I'd seen a lot of this stuff elsewhere, except better written and more amusing.

On deck:
In addition to the small forest of books I picked up on my recent sojourn to Minnysoooota (including a couple by one of my favourite MN authors Lorna Landvik and one by Neil Gaiman), I've also got a book called Incendiary sitting on my desk at work, waiting to be brought home. And that book, you know the one, by whatshername... Miriam Toews? Yeah. That's her. Plus, I've still got a stack of loaner books that seem to be slowly turning into coal beneath the weight of more recent loaners (not to mention guilt) that have been heaped upon them. I totally need to win a lottery, just so I can quit my job and catch up on my reading. And my tan. And my cabana-boy watching. Not necessarily in that order.

There were hints and allegations...

Okay, so it's been...forever since the last post. Since then, I've spent far too much time watching TV and then reading fan-fiction based on those shows. I've also decided to continue renting my current apartment which, for those of you playing at home, will make this one of the longer places I've lived in quite a while. Hey--I'm no fool: this place has heated, underground parking. No sense moving and giving that up right before winter. But relax...I'll probably move in the spring, which makes it...move #25? Something like that. I'm too tired tonight to calculate it.

Let's see... found a cute site that lets you compare your height to various and sundry "celebrities". It's worth a chuckle or two. Take a look: Tall or Not.

Watched Survivor tonight...yes, still watching reality TV (although I missed a goodly chunk of it...not that it matters). My two pool picks (Judd and Lydia) are still in the hunt for the million, which means I could win the pool again (remember Chris the construction worker from a few seasons ago? Yeah, I made some money on him). Also watched CSI (big surprise!)--man, that show just keeps getting better. Continues to kick the ass of almost all other shows out there. And the men...oh, how pretty. Could Nick, Greg and Grissom be any sexier? The answer, of course, is yes, but they'd need to be naked. Mmmmmm... I'll take a side of that, please!

Two funny bumper stickers I've seen recently:
"I don't hate God - it's his fan club I can't stand"
"I found Jesus! He was between the couch cushions the whole time!"

Speaking of amusing things you can attach to a vehicle...my sister bought me a cover for the hidden hitch of the Yukon that reads: Faster than a speeding ticket. Smart ass. Did I mention she's going to Paris? I hate my sister...