Oh, Twenty Oh Six

Meretricious and a Happy New Year.

- Gore Vidal (1925 - ) U.S. novelist and essayist.

New Year's Eve isn't that big a deal in our household. The only one time I really celebrated it was last year when most of my brothers, my sister, and I were finally in the same place at the same time. It was more of an impromptu reunion than anything, really.

But anyway, just for the heck of it, here's a fresh batch of New Year's resolutions to back up the ones I wrote down not two months ago [most of which I haven't even started doing]:

1. Minimize the fronting. One day, all my little untruths will rise into one huge whale that would swallow me whole. The funny thing is, I come up with the most outrageous lies. Those are the ones I feel really good about. LOL.

2. Keep my room organized for a minimum of 12 hours at the very least. [Good luck with this one].

3. Drink 8 glasses of water a day.

4. Be less absent-minded to improve my memory and attention span.

5. Stop being such a wuss. More often than not, when faced with something I'm not capable of overcoming, I whimper and retreat to a pathetic corner. Be more tough. Think G.I. Jane. Think "Suck my d*ck."

Now that I've got them down, they all sound so simple. Easy-peasy. But knowing myself, I'll be lucky if I can achieve at least one of them.

So, like I always say, baby steps. Baby steps.

Johnny, Johnny, Johnny

Is there anyone in my immediate circle of influence quite nearly as sexy as Johnny Depp playing Roux in the film Chocolat?

Stupid question, of course. Let me rephrase that.

Is there ANYONE IN THE WHOLE WORLD so on and so forth?

I can only think of one other person:

Johnny Depp in Once Upon A Time In Mexico.

Or... or... Johnny Depp in What's Eating Gilbert Grape?.

Or else, Johnny Depp as Jack Sparrow in Pirates of the Carribean.

Well, I don't know. He surpasses himself. I'd like to have him for New Year's Eve.

Watching TV

Outrageous

Well, there you have it. My secret mundane obsession with showbusiness packaged in one little trendy reality show that I will follow religiously from here on till its expected television demise.

I've been watching Britney and Kevin Chaotic, and despite the fact that I'd been trashing her about jumping on the Reality TV bandwagon prior to this, I find that I'm immensely enjoying it. I should've known I'd be so into it since I "secretly" admire and look up to the pop princess (as does Jhie, with whom I've spent many a weeknight watching Britney's concerts on video). Besides, her show is a far, far cry from Jessica Simpson and Nick Lachey's now-defunct NEWLYWEDS, an utterly annoying sitcom that warrants a whole other blog entry. Anyway, it has me thinking that even if and when Britney and Kevin's relationship ends up in divorce, it looks like they had fun in the amount of time it took them to videotape their lives. And Kevin's kinda cute. Of course I can't help but feel sorry for him, because he is surely going to feel inferior at one point or another, especially when he realizes that there is nothing he can do that Britney can't do (and pay for) better. Right now, it's all well and good since he's obviously still in that starstruck phase. Oh, well. I've only just started Season 1.

What's even sillier than this obsession is the fact that now, I have this ridiculous notion in my head that Britney and I are a lot alike! Minus the body, minus the dance moves, minus The Face, minus the fame, minus the wealth, the energy, and the voice [what-the-fudge there's nothing left]. I mean, she's goofy just like I am. Aren't we so alike?

Parental Guidance

I love my dad to pieces. But if there's one thing I hate, it's watching movies at home with him. I was watching Unfaithful the other night when he saunters in and settles comfortably on the bed (I sit on the floor). Enter the wild fornication scenes. It's not exactly porno, but I can feel my dad watching my face for some reaction. I mean. Dude. Can't a girl watch the hot scene with the hot Italian guy in peace? So I hold my breath all throughout the obscenities and pray that my face wasn't beet red.

Otherwise, my dad's real cool. Here he is mocking me:

Pity She Doesn't Know

"Answer me this:
When I see the sea once more,
Will the sea have seen or not seen me?"

- Viggo Mortensen as the Master Chief, G.I. Jane

Pity she doesn't know
Songs were written for her,
Pages were filled with words that worshipped her.
Does she know tears were shed for her?
Nights and twilights spent staring at the ceiling
In remembrance of events that would've taken place
Had she known.

Pity she doesn't know
The mind she has plagued, the place where she's lived, not knowing,
and the people she lived with in that colorful vastness.
I wonder if she knows how many times
Her name has been written,
Or if she knows what heart holds her.

She doesn't know the stories told about her,
Who has heard of her.
She's never seen nor felt the pedestal she's been put up on,
Never looked into the eyes of the mind that sees her.
She's never closed her eyes against the dizzying whirlwind
The romance that attempted to break her free-fall.

Pity he never told her.

Pity she never knew.

- November 2005