Old Whats-Her-Name

September 30, 2006 at 11:14 pm (Familia, Friends, Storytime)

Sisters 

My sister Sarah and I are only 22 months apart in age, which meant we had a year between us in school. When we were in high school together (me Frosh, she Junior – me Soph, she Senior)  we were vastly different in personality, and yet strikingly similar in looks (apparently).

I didn’t really see it that way. I had a wild mane of curly hair, and Sarah’s was straight and glossy. I was a busty Bardot, and Sarah was svelt. So, when people would see me in the halls and say, “Hi Sarah,” I’d snub them. Idiots. Can’t remember my name. Go peddle your cheer somewhere else.

One day Sarah and I were shooting the breeze and she said that people were always calling her Julie in the halls. I said, “Oh, yeah, I hate that. When people call me Sarah I just ignore them.” Sarah, a very sweet person, gasped. “I say hi to people when they call me by your name.”

Oh. It hadn’t occurred to me that I was sullying my sister’s name while she was boosting mine. Oops. Well, actually, it probably gave her a little mystique. She was way too nice.

I had a long a history (as long as anyone of 16 could have) of being salty with people who messed up or forgot my name. Hey, I was a teenager. I thought I was important. To my credit, I gave it up then and there. I no longer cared. Call me whatever you like. I don’t give a rip. It doesn’t change who I am. A rose is a rose, my friends. And I have my sister to thank for showing me the error of my ego.

However, I think Sarah has recently flipped to the other side. She told this story the other day:

She was home with her kids. She had her back turned and she heard her 3-year-old daughter (T.T.) ask her brother (Sheamus), “what’s her name again?”

When Sarah turned around, she saw that T.T. was pointing at her.

Sheamus said, “Mommy?”

TT said, “oh yeah.”

Sarah was sort-of appalled. But the brain scan came back normal. Hey, at least she didn’t call her Aunt Julie.

3 Comments

Pancakes Aren’t from Venus

September 30, 2006 at 11:11 am (Food)

 Pancakes in space

I just saw a commercial for a new product. Bisquick Shake and Pour. The well-dressed, attractive mother is shaking a big yellow-orange bottle and the kid says “yay, pancakes.” Mom says, “I knew you’d be excited.” The voice over explains that this shaking sound can be associated with pancakes in your house too. All you have to do is add water to this bottle of bisquick mix, shaka-shaka-shaka, and pour onto your griddle. Easy.

If you’re considering buying this product, let me tell you something, pancakes are not so difficult to make that you need a short cut. You don’t even need Bisquick. As my cousin Nicholas said to me once when I was contemplating a bad consumer move, “that’s like hiring someone to type your emails for you.”

I’m not sure what it is that annoys me so much about this. But I think it has something to do with our disconnection from the food we eat – a detachment so severe that we can be sold a product that shaves off a few seconds in prep and makes one of the most economical meals comparatively expensive.

Just to give you an idea of how simple pancakes are, here’s a recipe I found online on Allrecipes contributed by Sharon Holt.

1 c. flour

2 T. white sugar

2 T. baking powder

1 t. salt

1 egg

1 c. milk

I’d venture a guess that you have these ingredients in your house. Throw in cornmeal, whole wheat flour, nuts, fruit, use brown sugar instead. Use more milk for flatter pancakes. Pancakes are flexible. You could put this together for a few cent.

I’m begging you not to buy this weird product you add water to and shake. This is not progress. Not all change is good. Do not let your kids grow up thinking pancakes come from a bottle. We all know it’s syrup that comes from a bottle.

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Bite the Harelipped Dog*

September 29, 2006 at 9:04 pm (Friends)

Come here, Hanky. I have to bite you. 

Come here, Hanky. Aunt Julie needs her medicine.

I went out with Discouragement Kitten last night and drank a little vodka. Now, DK and I are both clever, charming, and exceedingly beautiful. So, imagine my horror when we could not catch the bartender’s attention after several hours of social drinking. Yes, folk, we were being snub-cut off. “Well, schrew you. We were leaving anyway.”

Since we are so clever and hilarious, it would be impossible to relay all of our wit and cheek. Or maybe it’s impossible to remember. Either way, here are some highlights of our tales from and about the little room:

  • Will told us how he stunk up a public bathroom so badly that a guy using the urinal puked.
  • I told a woman in the bathroom line that I liked her wedding ring rigging. She thanked me, then looked at her finger with disgust and said, “marriage isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”
  • DK came back from the bathroom and said that she wished the girl in there talking about her scrunchie had been finger raped in the soft spot when she was a baby. The end part of this proclamation was overheard by a woman who was returning from the bathroom. She had a hearty laugh over DKs creative imagery. DK then relayed the whole story to said woman, who then realized DK had been fantasizing about her infanticide. She probably thought it was less funny after that. 

*The title is an excellent malaprop that came out when my pal was trying to say “hair of the dog that bit you.” I would prefer biting a harelipped dog to touching vodka today. 

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Keith Richards – Hollow-Ween-Man

September 29, 2006 at 11:35 am (Uncategorized)
Tags:

Corpse

I’ve been saving this picture of Keith Richards for October 1. But, as it’s been called to my attention that flipping Christmas is coming, I thought I’d do my kick-off to Halloween earlier than planned.

It’s the only holiday celebration I really dig. I think I’d get into Cinco de Mayo to if I ever lived somewhere that did that up. But frankly, I don’t know how any other holiday could ever measure up.

Kid version: Tell scary stories, dress up in a spooky costume, go threaten people into giving you candy at night, watch a scary movie, and eat candy.

Adult version: Dress up in a spooky costume, tell kids who are scared of spooky costume that I am indeed a bad witch, give candy to brave kids, eat candy, watch scary movies, and go to parties.

There is no downside to any of that.

Yes, this is really Keith Richards For real though, can you believe this picture? Damn, Keith, looking fi-ine!

5 Comments

Joke of the Day Coming Your Way

September 29, 2006 at 10:53 am (Uncategorized)
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My 3-year-old niece told me a joke the other day. She’s pretty hilarious, so naturally, it’s comic genius.

Go across the road to do that! 

 Why did the goat cross the road?

To get to the other side to poop.

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Betty and Veronica = A+ in BS

September 28, 2006 at 12:03 am (Comics, Lindsay Lohan)

Do you know what time it is!?

Archie: Are you blind? This barometer does not compensate for altitude. You idiot.

Jughead: You will die a horrible death for yelling at me, Archie.*

I’ve loved Archie comics for my whole reading life – particularly Betty and Veronica. My sister Sarah still buys the digests for me (and that’s why she’s Sarah the Great).

I am fully aware of how sexist they are. Veronica is always trivialized for being girly. Betty isn’t sexy because she’s a tomboy. Veronica is a shrew. Betty is a downtrodden good girl. They’re friends, but they constantly stab each other in the back for Archie. This is just a sampling of the many bad stereotypes they support. 

The rivalry:

Girls being girls.

But they’ll be friends again:

Threesome anyone? 

Don’t worry Betty, you’ll get your turn…although it’s usually under cover of dark:

Arch is always hiding her away in a dark theater

Veronica is escorted in the daylight on dates that cost lots of money (they’re going into Pop Tate’s Chocklit Shop):

No backdoor for Ronnie 

When I was in college, I took a media course that was about ethics or feminism or feminist ethics. I don’t remember. I wrote a research paper on the negative portrayal of women in Betty and Veronica comics. (Which was really a betrayal of my beloved Riverdale High kids.)

One of the stories I analyzed was a fantasy piece about Veronica becoming the president. She was doing all of these silly things such as solving peace problems with shopping sprees and by giving redecorating advice to world leaders. They all loved her at the UN because of her vavavoom. Certainly no one was taking her advice seriously (because it was terrible advice and her boobs looked nice).

I made a very strong case for the damage this comic was causing today’s youth. Especially those impressionable Canadians. I filled the paper with statistics and studies. And I got an A+.

I still have those comics from that project (1990s) and the ones from my youth (1970-1980s) and recent ones (from Sarah the Great). And I still read and enjoy whenever I get one in my grubby little sexist hands.

It’s not about the laughs. I don’t guffaw when I read them. But I like the goofy little scenarios. The mini story arc. The predictable trajectory of the tales. The characters. The drawings. I like how the characters change. How the stories reflect the times, even if they’re not usually progressive.

To cover my shame, when I was teaching college classes I used to tell my students to like whatever it was they liked without any excuses. It was not necessary to go to college and suddenly like Poe instead of Stephen King or Tolkein instead of Neil Gaiman. It was fun to try new things, sure. But Pachelbel is never going to be Stevie Wonder. And Stevie Wonder has perfect pitch! He’s nothing to look down at. And neither are Betty and Veronica!

Look, Lindsay Lohan agrees.

Oh, La Lohan, you might be a Betty.

Poor Lindsay. All the Bettys wish they were Veronicas.

*For actual translation of Greek text in the top panel, see the comments.

15 Comments

J to the U to the L I Izzy

September 27, 2006 at 6:45 pm (Friends, Mission)
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ny-bathroom.jpg

In case you didn’t know, “J to the U to the L I izzy” is from a song by Ali G and Shaggy. Sure, Ali G’s movie was not so funny, I’ll admit it. But the segment with Andy Rooney from his show makes up for just about any garbage he puts out. You can’t be perfect all the time, right?

Okay, so my cousin Nicholas doesn’t think the little picture of me in my sunglasses (on the About Julie Luongo page) looks like me.  I was in the car, driving, and pulled out my phone and realized I’d taken a picture. I like it because I had taken a candid of myself – which I think is appropriate for my blog (that’s a vague reference to my Bloggin’ Mission).

However, since my cousin is such an upright guy who is always helping me be a better human being, by example and suggestion, I have uploaded the above picture for his scrutiny.

This was also taken with my phone. I was in the bathroom in my friend’s office taking pictures of the black and white checkered floor. I turned the camera on myself because I was feeling so clever for capturing a floor like only a very shaky Warhol could have.

I really should get myself one of them new fangled digital camera.

julie-warhol.jpg

2 Comments

Unwarranted Reasons I’ve Hated People

September 27, 2006 at 12:55 pm (Uncategorized)
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I'm a princess. Don't you agree? 

I’m a social type. I like parties and gatherings. I enjoy meeting new people and talking to strangers.

Once I spent the day with my friend and her friend, whom I’d never met. Now, this woman, let’s call her Oblivious, was interesting enough. And by interesting I mean she talked all the time about stuff she bought and stuff she wanted to buy. This is interesting because it’s extremely odd. And this is odd because she clearly had no idea that we didn’t care about her Pier-One-Sax-BMW-driven materialistic urges.

I didn’t care so much that her choice of subjects never improved. I’m truly fascinated by people, and I try to find the good in even the most distasteful of our gaggle. And the fascinating thing about Oblivious was how very earnest she was about her passion for everything with a brand name. She was also neurotic, obsessive, and intelligent. A unique simpleton, indeed.

Here’s where the unwarranted hate comes in. I had spent all day and night listening to her inane blathering. I knew about everything she ever bought, every exercise she ever attempted, every boring sex act she and her boyfriend tried, and every ordinary trip she ever took. And all of this was unsolicited. I had ceased even feigning interest almost immediately.

To her credit, she wasn’t really talking to us. She was just talking. But she wasn’t maliciously boring. She just had a bloated sense of her own importance. And, because it came from such an innocent place, it was forgivable.

After a long day of jawing, she was ready to pack it in. She was saying her overly long goodbyes, replete with tangents about her nails and hair, when I saw her notice me. She cocked her head a little, like a dog. And she asked me what I do for a living by telling me what I didn’t do in the manner of, “so, you work at the Best Buy?” Something way off base like that.

I went to correct her. “No, I …”

Oblivious looked in her purse just then, no doubt wondering if Louis Vuitton was chichi enough.

“I work in a corn dog test kitchen,” I finished.

“I wonder if I can get a new Louie?” she said in response.

And that did it. I had listened to her inane crap all day, excusing her behavior as harmless cluelessness. But once she showed that she couldn’t gather even the most rudimentary knowledge about the person she divulged her whole painfully common history to, well, then she was dead to me.

Ding Bat's got a brand new bag

11 Comments

Top 10 Reasons I Hate Making Top 10 Lists

September 27, 2006 at 12:08 am (Uncategorized)
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1., no 10., no 1. Being a Letterman fan, I can never decide if I should start at 1 or 10.

2. My likes and dislikes are too fleeting to proclaim them in writing. Top ten most or least favorite anything is subject to the law of relativity.

3. I don’t feel very clever in this format.

4. There is just no way I’m going to think of something clever now that I’m trying too hard.

5. I’m really losing steam.

6. I think lists like this require some sort-of linear organization I lack.

7. I like reading top 10 lists.

8. I wish I could write them well.

9. I always struggle to think of the last point. The pressure’s on. It’s gotta be good.

10.

Terrible, Julie. NO LN job for you.

Dave says: “There is no off position on the genius switch.”

(He just says this a lot.) 

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Freeze Frame

September 26, 2006 at 7:55 pm (You Tubes)

I haven’t seen poppin and lockin like this since … well, never. I’ve never seen anything like this. I love You Tube. 

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