Hungry? Blog tapas.

Feels like forever since we had some tapas. Let's start with a story.


Apparently, after I left the detox center, I was meant to go directly to some sort of appointment - of which I was not informed - possibly because I am not yet psychic. So, two days after leaving the center, I'm just cooling out in my kitchen preparing a sandwich when I hear a sharp knock at the door. Husband answers it, and I hear a female voice asking for me. Since I know exactly zero people in this entire state who would show up at my door looking for me, I responded in the only appropriate way possible: "Holy crap!"

It's this chick, wearing way too much perfume, telling me that although I'm not in "trouble", I missed that "mandatory" appointment and she was coming to check on me. Basically, she was there to make sure I'd filled my prescriptions (thank god I decided to!), I hadn't had any alcohol since leaving the detox center (nope), and that I wasn't in a bathtub with my wrists all slit and stuff (so far, so very good on that one).

Yadda yadda yadda, she hands me a card, and to prove that I'm diligent I immediately turn around and move to put it on the bulletin board behind me. Right on top of a birthday card for husband which reads, "BEER BEER BEER BEER BEER is the answer". Grate.

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Anti-depressants sort of make my properties noticeably ... slowed. I can often be found just staring at shit that doesn't warrant being stared at. Which will explain these next two pictures.

 

Not sure why the idea of Pop Tart "gear" vexed me so much, but it did. Am I going to have to start gearing up for eating toast and bagels too, or is it only fruit-filled items I'll be toasting? I'm exhausted already.

Thank god they're still putting directions on things that should be self-explanatory to any sentient being, because when Husband isn't applying the toothpaste tube itself directly to his teeth, he's smacking himself in the face with the box of Cheez-Its, lamenting his continuing hunger.

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Just over a year ago, I used to spend a lot of late-night time on the Sims 3 Facebook fan page, largely being annoyed (because I wasn't yet drinking all the time), and thus spending a huge amount of time just reporting annoying 11-year-olds and spammers, because sometimes you need to take a break from trying to write your blog. I've had this picture sitting in a folder since then, and I still can't figure out why it tickled me so at the time, especially since I didn't actually report the page.

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Celebrity-themed junk mail!!!

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Facebook ads!

...and finally, one of my last drunken Skype dates with my sister. It is my very mature reaction to her accidental spillage of liquid cheese.

That's my "very, very drunken hair" happening there. It's having a party of its own.
Anyhoo, love you all. Some of you more than others, but if you play your cards right ...

Black Swan (a.k.a. My Big Night Out)

What's not to like about a "psychosexual thriller" starring an emaciated Natalie Portman and a slightly scuzzy Mila Kunis? Let's explore.

The first thing we're beat over the head with - other than the fact that this film is about a production of the ballet Swan Lake - is how very meek Nina Sayers (Natalie Portman) is.  She's a sweet, quiet, hardworking perfectionist, dammit - can't you see?  Yes, we see.  Nina lives with her mother, Erica Sayers (Barbara Hershey) - now, I'm going to need you to hold on to your tuffets here, because I've got news for you: Nina's mother is overprotective and controlling. 

We're also introduced to Lily (Mila Kunis) and she's a spitfire free spirit.  You can't tame her!  She probably doesn't even wash her face before she goes to bed.  Jesus Christ, the very thought.

Beth Macintyre (Winona Ryder) is the elderly former lead Swan Queen. You never see her dance, although you do get an eyeful of her being an expert drunken scowler.  Nowhere near as skilled as my husband in his bachelor days, but I'm sure she tried very hard.

Thomas Leroy (Vincent Cassel), the ballet director is now casting for a new lead to play both the good sister White Swan and the evil sister Black Swan.  Nina wants the role, but Leroy is reluctant to cast her - he thinks she's perfect for the White Swan, but lacks the reckless, dark abandon necessary to portray the Black Swan - probably due to her lack of giving him blowjobs the first time they meet.  In the end, she wins the role.  How?  Ancient Chinese secret.

Nina is so excited, she almost eats an entire bite of cake.

At a benefit gala, Leroy bids adieu to the aged Beth Macintyre, and introduces the fresh, young Nina as his new Swan Queen. Awkward! While using the facilities and having one of a continuing string of hallucinations, Nina hears a banging at the door.  It's Lily, threatening to urinate all over the place.  You can't take that girl anywhere!

Lily tries to get Nina to hang out with her in the bathroom and kibbutz, but Nina declines.  She has to go stand by herself for long enough for pensioner Beth Macintyre to stumble into her so she can be falsely accused of doling out blowjobs to get the role of the Swan Queen.  Ha!  Before Beth gets the chance to really sharpen her claws, Leroy swoops in and whisks Nina off to his apartment greasy lair. 

What transpires next is what I can only describe as the creepiest dialogue written by a 12-year-old I've ever witnessed.  Before Nina escapes, Leroy gives her homework to prepare herself for the role of the Black Swan: play with your vagina.  I hope you were still gripping your tuffets.  If you actually watch the movie, I suggest gluing your ass into one for the actual scene where she does her homework.  Depending on your personality, it's: a) hot as hell. b) no idea, there's a popcorn tub over my head. c) high-larious. d) life-destroying. e) can't talk, turning into swan.

Nina's not able to enjoy winning the role of the Swan for very long, because not only does she have to shoulder the guilt of crazy old Beth Macintyre throwing herself into traffic the night of the goodbye Beth/hello Nina gala, but now she also has to worry about crazy young Lily breathing down her neck as her understudy bent on stealing her role.  Fuck a duck.  Or don't.

I'm not going to give a detailed play-by-play of the rest of the film, but suffice it to say that it's a juxtaposition of painfully trite dialogue against disturbing hallucinatory imagery with a backdrop of pretty girls performing pretty dance.  It's a lot like going to see Swan Lake after drinking Salvia tea - one minute everything's fine, and you're just cooling out watching Natalie Portman be a ballerina, wishing you had her nose - the next, you're in a Swan Lake meta-nightmare.  Winona Ryder looks like roadkill, Mila Kunis is shoving cheeseburgers and Portman tacos in her face, you can't get away from the mirrors, which are definitely fucking not working right - and well ... I guess I should be grateful this is at least one sanctuary from that damned Soul Sister song it seemed impossible to get away from this past year.

Did I like it, you ask?  Put it to you this way: it's been well over two years since my last "date night" with my husband, and we went to a theater which served hot food and cold drink during the movie.  They could have put almost anything up on that screen and I would have tolerated it. 

Putting all of that aside, I wasn't completely satisfied with the film.  I know the retardedly lame dialogue was supposedly on purpose, to make the chilling parts ice cold or whatever.  But for me, it was too jarring.  By the time something interesting was happening, I was still groaning from lines that seemed to be treating the audience as though they couldn't get from A to B without the plot of Swan Lake being carefully explained, at least thrice throughout the movie.  Listen, I know I was shoveling pickle spears down my gullet like it was my last meal, but that doesn't mean I can't get to the end of the movie without a map.