Leaving for Boston shortly to do Mortified. But before I dry my hair, I have to share my new favorite video. Yeah yeah I know. This blog is less chatting and more You Tube. Sometimes, I go on for too long and don't make my point. Especially when I have to leave in ten minutes.
So watch, learn, and love.
This song breaks my tiny fucking heart.
I had the pleasure of seeing Dreamgirls last night with my roommate, right after we stuffed our faces with delicious pasta and cheese. So basically a typical Sunday night for SJ. Here's my mini review of "Dreamgirls". Hope no one enjoys!
Dreamgirls
Every time Jennifer Hudson opens her mouth I am about to cry. Her sound is fierce, but she needs to work on character development a bit more. Golden Globe worthy? Sure, sure. Oscar? Um...yes. But only if we're judging that incredible voice. After she does her biggest number "(And I am telling you) I'm Not Going", I sat and sobbed while pretending I had something in BOTH contacts. Someone gets worked up over musicals.
Eddie Murphy was good. But, well.....okay listen, I'm mighty proud of him as a performer in this film, but the minute he steps out, my roommate grabs me and whispers "sexual chocolate". I laughed because it was true. So much so, that I was expecting him to break out into "The Greatest Love Of All". But he just stuck to the score.
Beyonce/Jamie Foxx/Everyone Else Not Nominated for Oscars:
Decent performance from Miss B. She did get really skinny for the role, but I thought she was fine enough. Still a bit robotic in her movements, and I don't think I'll ever believe she's anything but some daddy's girl who kicks Kelly Rowland to the side so that she can be the star. She was more or less playing herself. And so Jamie Foxx was playing Jigga (aka: Sean Carter/Jay Z). Good to see Danny Glover in a role that didn't involve Mel Gibson and Joe Pesci running after them going "OHHHHH!!!!".
And thus includes my sad but true account of the performances in "Showgirls". Ooops, I mean "Dreamgirls".
Ran into someone I used to work with on the L train this morning. He seemed happy at his new job and I know I'm happy with mine. Sure the day is going to come when I'm working full time again and have to hit off my alarm at 6am instead of 10am. But on a show or something. Hopefully me and corporate America are like an old couple. Nice to say hi and think of fondly, but never gonna date down that road again.
The thing about it, is it's always there. Like cocaine. So sure, when the time comes and I'm desperate enough, I might have to do it full time again. But let's hope I can coast on fumes and temp jobs and small roles on Law and Order playing a 16 year-old who got raped until Scorsese decides to use me as Leo's love interest in their new collaboration. You know, until then.
It was brought to my attention, about twenty minutes ago that one of my all-time favorite films of the 80's was on. Not only is Bill Murray scene-stealing, but Jessica Lang has yet to discover botox, Dabney Colman is as good a scamp as any, and Dustin Hoffman looks like a woman my mom could play Maj Jong with. Yet all of this pales in comparison to the Steven Bishop song, "It Might Be You". Usually a standard of mine at karaoke, I'll have to remember to add it to my list for next time.
Are you kidding me Beyonce? It was just a movie B, settle down. You're not Diana Fucking Ross. Though thirty years from now, I hope you're as drugged out and high strung as she drunkenly appear.
J Love, are you hiding Scott Wolfe's career under there? Suddenly the holiday weight I've gained seems so inconsequential. 
Oh good, I was wondering what ever happened to Waylon Flower's life size creation of his puppet Madame. And there she goes with another gay dancer.by Rascal flatts is a sappy, country bumpkin jingle that this dipshit can't seem to get enough of.
Tonight I'd like to let you in on six of the many songs I just downloaded (and stole right off of Timelife Music's Soft Rock Collection) and by stole I of course mean paid for.....in kisses:
1) Baby Come Back - Player
Wow. What a great song. Once you listen, you'll never be able to get it out of your head. I said EVER.
2) Everything I Own - Bread
My mom was a regular Joanie Mitchell in the 70's and this ditty was played on repeat. On her fucking guitar asswipes.
3) Black Water - Doobie Brothers
And my dad smoked a lot of pot in the 70's, so I was forced to listen to the Doobie Brothers when we'd drive around in his Eldorado with the tape deck. Jealous?
4) Dream Weaver - Gary Wright
One must picture me in a Monique L'lhuiere wedding dress dancing with my handsome husband. Not Wayne's World.
5) Long, Long Time - Linda Ronstandt
See #2 about my mom.
6) You're My Best Friend - Queen
I liked this song before I saw "The Break-Up" but I'm lady enough to note that seeing "The Break-Up" reminded me that I liked it. And that Ralphie from "A Christmas Story" hasn't really aged all that well.
with YOU TUBE! My own writing skills (or lack thereof) have taken a back seat to my fascination with this particular website.
And it's because I can't write shit as good as this
SIRE. PLEASE. Like I even need to write anything when the incomparable little sprite that is Dudley Moore is onscreen. Sigh. My hero.
Yesterday we went bowling, then for burgers at Fudruckers, then to see The Departed. More on the burger and the movie later.
I don't think I've made it a secret that I dislike most children. I've never been one to go ape shit over someone's child, infant, or newly impreggnated stomach (unless of course they are a dear friend whom I love very much, then their child is an extention of them and I therefore love that child). I speak to most children like they are adults, and expect them to know the difference.
Maybe it's because I myself am sort of a child in some ways. I said some, assholes. For example, my hands are the size of a four year-olds. So when I bowl, I usually use the smaller balls. But so do children. Especially the six little hangerjobs that were at the lane right next to us, thus sharing our ball holder. (NOTE TO EVERYONE - I have no f-ing clue what this is called bc I am not an overweight teen who 's only joy in life is getting to second base before prom, and the bowling team)
So these six little miscreants, kept taking my god damn ball and using it. Lord knows what sorts of crap they wedged in the holes, but I had had just about enough. So when the eldest of the crew of crap kids, who was maybe ten at the most, lunged for my ball - I snatched it from her hands and like any good adult would do - told her to beat it.
This did not fare well with her. The next time it was my turn, she grabbed MY ball then held onto it like a baby and shouted "MINE!!". I calmly looked her in the eye and smiled to let her know all was forgiven. And then I flipped her off and went to get another ball.
I don't give a shit if you're ten, twenty, or ninety - take my ball and you're looking at the bird.
Now didn't I tell you to beat it kid?
