zhu-zhu and you you

These posts generally revolve around movies and us in the glorious-stunned aftermath. And dragons. The linkage between dragons and movies--um, well, it's obvious.

Alas, I don't have much material. I saw an An Education. I'm working my way through Mad Men. None of this provides me with any new material. The Red Box has also been devoid of any new material.
*Except that I just remembered that I found this gem called "An American Virgin" or maybe it's "The American Virgin" [except I thought that was Donna from 90210?] or maybe it's "American Virgins" [but I thought those were nuns?]) In any case, the plot: a girl (some actress destined for fame), winner of some sort of scholarship for celibacy, goes off to college, where she encounters her slutty 24 year old roommate (who looks like she is 45). Her roommate engages in things, things like orgies, and feeding our heroine jello laced with booze. One jello shot later and insert ROB SCHNEIDER (his daughter is also in the movie. so. good.), as essentially the guy behind what is the fictional equivalent of Girls Gone Wild. Our girl gets drunk, he gets some footage. The girl, along with her roommate, her love interest (who is secretly ALSO a virgin. TWIST!) and some other dude set off to find the tape. She loses her virginity and we all learn some lessons in the end. Whatever.


The reason why I haven't seen any movies might be because I've been working so much at Target. (And you know, my thesis.) As our loyal reader(s?) know, I am a proud employee of The Targ. As you also might know, yesterday was Black Friday, when hordes of shoppers trample hordes of smaller, weaker, older shoppers, in order to get items entitled "doorbusters." I don't know. Stores say, each year, that they are doing all they can to ensure safety, by doing things like calling these coveted items "doorbusters."

Every year there's a hot item. The one that all the kids want so that they can have real friends instead of imaginary ones. There was Tickle Me Elmo, Furbies, and that's all I can really think of. This year it's a 7.99 fake hamster called a Zhu-Zhu pet. And to this I say: What. The. Fuck.

Allow me to start from the beginning. My relationship with the zhu-zhu wasn't always so complicated. In fact, I was even contemplating letting it take me to the Sock Hop, but only after it let me wear its Varsity letter jacket. I mean, the toy is affordable. It doesn't have guns attached. And while it doesn't have the potential to swear (minus) it also cannot speak in jibberish like a Furby (plus). I even like the way clueless parents refer to them as Ju-Jubes, after that candy that fucks with your teeth. They say it's not the gun, but the person owning the gun that's the problem. What they should have said: it's not the zhu-zhu but the crazy soccer moms/shadesters who want to resell the things on Craigslist that's the problem.

Usually I roam the aisles of Target, lovingly placing gray dots on out of stock items. But now. Suddenly, circa 8:01 a.m., I'm stranded in toys, being berated by really fit moms with blonde highlights in athletic gear (the worst kind of people, asides from the elderly. I'm just sayin.) wondering WHY we didn't get any zhu-zhus, why we limit them when we have them, how it's not fair, how they had to get up and drive for like FIFTEEN! (FIFTEEN!) minutes to come in and check, because the person on the phone said that we might have them. And so on. Basically: why I personally took all of the zhu-zhu pets from these nice consumers who are just trying to please their children and horded them all for my very own personal zhu zhu hamster army.

Sometimes I wish to tell these people to buy their child a real hamster. A real hamster might not last as long, but I'm pretty sure a kid might find a zhu-zhu pet interesting for fifteen minutes max anyway. Or, I wish to say to these zhu zhu seekers, go make your child play outside, because your child is fat. Or, I wish to say, maybe you should give him some wrapping paper to play with. (I will not say plastic bag. I will not say plastic bag.)
I get it: the kid wants a zhu-zhu pet and parents want to make sure their children are happy/get what they want. Fine. Maybe even commendable. Maybe I don't understand it because it's love and I wasn't hugged enough as a child. Or perhaps I don't understand it because it's idiocy. I emblazoned Puppy at the top of my Christmas wish list every year, and I never got one. And as you can totally see, I didn't turn out bitter. (Though I just was asking for a PUPPY. Not a Dragon) Not getting what you want may or may not be healthy, but it's totally screwy to want something because it's something that is wanted.
I've had my fair share of magic moments at The Targ. A woman who enlisted my help for half an hour(!) so she could find the right shade of lipstick for her octomom halloween costume. People who wink at you and say You bet I will when you say have a good night and they are buying condoms, which you know they are really going to be using to make balloon animals. Men who say save one for me when you are on your knees checking a price/counting stock. People who can't remember the name of something and only have words like "big" in their detail toolbox and hand gestures that strike you as unintentionally dirty. When these people get mad at you for not being Miss Cleo for knowing they are talking about some sort of power tool. Do I look like Bob Villa? ( don't answer that.)

My point: if you added all of these magic moments up, they still pale in comparison to my rage over zhu zhu pets (or conversely, to my love of dragons).

And what in the world is a "zhu-zhu"? What?!

There are still JOES in harm's way!

So AmandaB and I have been on many dragon adventures, resulting in many dragon Ta(i)l(e)s for us to share with you. Mostly, though, we've watched bad movies at our local dollar theater, or acquired from our local (and exceptionally convenient) REDBOX (teehee...).

Upon telling our friends that we are going to see, say, Hannah Montana or maybe Leatherheads or Twilight, we've received raised eyebrows and skepticism. Amazingly, though, it was when mentioning our intent to see GI JOES that I received the most scorn and mocking. Really? Of all the movies? Even Hannah Montana?

That said, it does have the all-star cast meant to induce scorn: Channing Tatum (Or is it Tatum Channing??? What the hell is his name?), Sienna Miller (somehow managing to be in several good movies, and still be awful in all of them-- I should marry and divorce a celebrity so I can be famous too!), and one of the Wayans (I think Marlon? Best known for his screaming like a woman, probably, in all of the mock movies (see Scary Movie or Dance Flick or whatever other stupid-I-have-no-original-ideas-of-my-own mock films they made), and of course Dennis Quaid (who I have since come to the realization is like Nick Cage in that if I see his name on the Marquee I can pretty much assume disaster is in the distance). But is that all? Oh no. Then we have strange cameos from the usually delightful Joseph Gordon-Levitt, and the always awful (well, post Encino Man) Brendan Fraser (who has about 5 minutes in the movie-- his best line? They're Joes guys...).

There were, of course, other folks too-- a cute but evil asian guy. That one white guy with the big nose and the accent. Some redheaded chic.

I was really looking forward to the laugh riot meant to occur during this movie. It did not, however, happen. This movie was bad, no doubt. And the dialogue, just terrible. (Sienna Miller "Nice shoes" and CT/TC "I'm getting YOU out of here" and Wayans "Suddenly not one memorable moment of dialogue because my character is so stock/cliche that I couldn't even have one moment of memorable dialogue cliche.") The thing is, that even as I sit to write this, there is very little I can remember about the movie. It was non-memorable. What I remember most is that every time someone said "Joes" (because they weren't referred to as GI Joes in the movie) I thought of those joes potatoes you can get in the deli of your local grocery. Every time. So when they say "Lets get those Joes out of there" I see someone scooping fried potatoes. When they say "There are still Joes in Harm's way!" I know that ketchup is near and death by digestion nigh.

And what is the deal with all of the black leather outfits on ladies in movies. I mean, why couldn't we leave it at catwoman. She was always supposed to be in black leather. Everyone else is thieving. Bad copies.

All of this to say I'm sad that I can't relate more of the joys of this little flick. That I didn't leave in riotous laughter which I can now relate to you. I did, however, participate in 2 hours of complete and total braindeaded-ness which, considering that last several weeks, seemed about right.

In other DRAGON news...

PBR is definitely the nectar of dragons. It's gone to the committee for review and been approved.

Also Swedish Fish.

I Guess Things Are Gettin Pretty Serious

After a series of cancellations, I find myself with a mostly free Saturday. I sit in my dragon office, pretentiously sipping my shortbread latte, and pondering how in the earth I am going to pry my contacts--which have not been removed for going on 30 hours now--from my eyes.

Amber Nelson and I decided to have a Time last night. After cruisin (aka getting horribly lost in the clusterfuck layout) the mallz of Boise, looking for 18 year old fly honeys, purple peacoats, elusive jeans, and the Right Thing from our favorite store, The Icing, we trolled the shady back alleys of David's Bridal. One thing led to another and then all of a sudden there was Casey "I Will Sing I'm A Little Teapot Sexier Than You, Bitch," Jenga with absurd commands on it, neighbors from Eastern European countries, hordes of cats, and puddle stomping. And weird hats. Lots of those.

Time accomplished. What I really wanted to talk about is how much of a moron I am. To some degree, shotgunning a PBR is justification for one's penchant for saying and doing moronic things. Alas, I find myself sober most of the time. Especially lately.
Things that have happened over the course of my (recent) life:

1.) I'm playing online Scrabble and I really think I can get a bingo. I like bingos. I have the letters E,G,E,Y,S,U, and W. There's an open A. I spell out S-E-G-U-E-W-A-Y and click play. Invalid word. I ask my officemate if segueway is one word or two and he is confused. In spite of my refusal to believe that it is true, especially since I am fond of using the word in my stuent feedback, I eventually admit that "segueway" is actually just "segue."

2.) One of my favorite things ever is re-watching taped Christmas Specials from late 80's/early 90's with my siblings. Preferably when my eyeliner happy superhero sister makes wassail. The thing that brings me the greatest joy are the commercials--Burger King Fish Sticks, crimped hair, a prancing Grimace telling Ronald McDonald to put the effing fallen star back into the sky, Alf. We see a Kay commercial, which I'm almost certain is the same one they are still using. I tell my sister something along the lines of, Every Kiss Begins with Kay is a terrible slogan, doesn't make any sense, and is factually inaccurate. She then pointed out that they were cleverly referring to the Letter "K." ....Oh.

3.) It was less than two years ago, I believe, that I realized that The Count from Sesame Street was called the Count because he, well, counted.

When you type "bad ass dragon" into Google Images, this is the first dragon that comes up.

Hey now! Even dragons have to nap sometimes.

Ok, ok. I know, I've been slow to post and what I posted last, even, was wimpy. I get it.

BUT, while I have a moment of your (my) time to spare, I thought I'd divulge a few things.

1) I breathe fire (in the form of two public readings-- which is, come on... you can admit it... pretty bad. ass.

2) I have a kitten. She, too, is a dragon. Watch her slay my basil and arugula! The cord to my ancient mac laptop! The cords on my blinds! And be oh-so-adorable while doing it. Also, she roars. Like, really.

3) In pop culture, I have had fewer dragons of late. I miss (oh how I miss!) cheap movie tuesday. However, I did go see The Hangover and let me tell you-- surprisingly funny. I actually laughed! It was amazing. That Bradley Cooper guy-- he is NOT a dragon, rather a bronzed duesch bag. HOWEVER, This Guy: Zach Galifianakis : is. Major dragon. He also breathes fire.

Also, the following bands definitely play music from the perspective of a dragon: them, these, and those. Dominating my pandora, my itunes, my ipod.

When Students are Dragons and Dragons Play Football

So for the second week in a row I have followed Boise State Football-- I have watched them fight like dragons. And it's weird to watch ESPN and remember when the Safety, who just about ripped some other guys head off, sat in your class and wrote poems about their grandma. And now they are dragons on blue turf. Bedroom eyes and in the post-game interview. Burning enemy villages and taking no prisoners.

The best part though? 5 friends in my living room drinking wine and eating my food.

Now, today, the full-grown dragons. Lofa Tatupu. Patrick Kearney. Woo.

Drag Queen Dragon Queens

I've been "teaching" dialogue for my fiction workshop (oops... fiction nonworkshop) this week. I don't really teach anything so much as poorly construct diagrams on the whiteboard and hope that I get little high off the dry erase marker while doing so. But I wanted to make the point that realistic dialogue in writing is good, but that's a lot different than real-life dialogue (which is often mundane and cyclical), because writing dialogue has to do other things. You know, like tell a story or advance the narrative or characterize a dragon. And a lot of times, "realistic" dialogue in 206 shows up with a lot of "Ums," and "What's ups?" in phone conversation, and just things that probably aren't necessary for telling a dragon story. So I was thinking about recording conversations and talking about how they would be useless in stories for the most part. And suddenly I started to become hyper conscious of whether anything that I said would be useful in a story, which is tricky because I'm already hyper conscious of how 10% of things I say are actively dirty and probably another 50% could be construed as dirty. It was overwhelming, so naturally I passed this concern onto Amber N. on our excursion to Target, aka TheTarg, and to see Funny People on the first ever Cheap Movie Friday.

Alas, my teaching strategy backfired. Here are some lines of dialogue that would be useful for any writers of fiction, from James Joyce to John Grisham.

"You know what I did today? ....Watch My Fair Lady."

Amanda: "Here are those Junior Mints I mentioned."
Amber, in response: "Our lives are better than most other people's."

"There's a man smoking in the dumpster at the Big Bun."

And imagine if there was exposition! and crafty detail! Ah jeez! Such narrative excitement!