Dear Unfunny People

Dear Unfunny People,

Ahhhh! Some people are already angry about this blog (What are you gonna do, unfunny people? What are you gonna do? Eviscerate me with your razor sharp wit? Go ahead. I won't even require you to form an original thought or use material not previously covered by more talented people. I'll wait.)

Unfunny people, do you realize that nobody who is funny is making fat jokes anymore? That it is as mentally lazy as you accuse fat people of physically being? That being "in your face" and "not afraid to go there" isn't actually all that daring?

I know, I know there are some young comedians out there who are just starting out or just finding their voice or getting overly excited about the intoxicating freedom that is standing behind a microphone in front of people who are expected to listen to them, I'm not talking to you. I'm talking to people in their mid-thirties who have been at this for years who still think that it's clever to call fat people "Jabba" (oops). I'm talking to people who are like the Phe Phe character on the "Hotwives" series. Yes, that is correct. There is a show featuring women who actually are funny where they essentially make fun of the kind of person that you might be pretending to be (just being you, just keeping it real, I thought you would want to know).

Here's a story for you: I was on youtube recently and this video popped up featuring this very attractive, fit woman who was obviously ignorant and overprivileged. Not just "I go to the blowout bar every week" privileged, but like "probably going to end up writing really bad jokes for Bravo before ending up on a reality show on that same channel" embarrassing. You could practically smell her gluten allergies. She doesn't actually have gluten allergies, she just read about them in Goop or something and bought a fragrance called "Gluten Sensitivity". This dip actually thought that the airport WASN'T supposed to be unpleasant and that fat-shaming didn't exist. It was kind of amazing to think about comedians that are both mean and funny that don't reach this level of fame despite having better material. It just made me really mad that she got to cut in line (so to speak) by virtue of being pretty and saying cruel things rather than working on improving herself or her material.

Eventually something funny came of it when she seemed to think that her comedy was being "censored" by people who are too PC. That was hilarious.

Here's the thing: funny comedians generally don't get censored even when their comedy is mean. Because they are wise enough to make their comedy clever, insightful, personal or observational. Your rant video is not comedy. Basically, if comedy were music, your message to fat people would not be Buddy Holly. It would be the plane that he, J.P. Richardson and Richie Valens boarded on February 3, 1959. Lazy, unoriginal, boring comedy is killing comedy, not people who rally for a little basic compassion."Fat people are fat" is not groundbreaking news nor anything that makes you reexamine society or the world. I hope that "I hate fat people" isn't the thing that reveals something personal about you, because if that's the case then you should probably just be quiet. But then again, I'm just really selfish and I don't want bad comedy around.

I could go on about lazy comedians, but since this is mainly for the Nicole Arbours of the world, I will say this: You are very pretty, svelte and empirically attractive. That's awesome. You probably work to maintain it and deserve to feel good about yourself. But don't pretend that you worked hard and hit a home run when the truth is that you probably started out on second or third base. Acknowledging that privilege exists and even having it is nothing to be ashamed of, but recognize that you have an advantage. People are already on board to hear what you have to say because of what you look like. You have been given a stronger voice by society, so consider how you actually want to use it. You could work on disproving myths that attractive people can't be funny, you could work on actually finding solutions to the things that bother you, you could even send messages of encouragement into the universe. Right now, the world is watching you even more closely, so try to consider what you do next.

Far be it from me to be presumptuous, but might I suggest not using jokes so lame and overplayed that Family Guy wouldn't have used them five years ago?

-Casey

Tween Lit Tues- THURSDAY Sweet Valley High 3: Playing With Fire

Look at those smug assholes

What I remember about this from long ago: Jessica gets with Bruce Patman but learns the importance of being careful what you wish for.

What I know now: Eh... just keep reading.

Gentle readers, I have to start with a confession. I don’t get Channing Tatum. I never got Brad Pitt. I can look at them and be like, “Yeah, that’s probably an attractive dude.” I just fail to actually be attracted. But friends… I got Bruce Patman. Bruce Patman, who aside from being a confirmed dicksmack, doesn’t even have a consistent image (although, when I was first exposed to secretly good comedian and parody of male handsomeness James Marsden in the late 90s, I remember thinking “This is Bruce Patman”). Except in this one book. In a way I should thank “Playing With Fire” for giving me perspective when I was beating myself up for having a crush on a fictional schmuck it would cure me right up.

I feel much better. This is Sweet Valley High #3 “Playing With Fire”

We start the story at a dance, by my count, the third of the school year. The Droids are playing, Elizabeth and Todd are in love and Roger Collins is chaperoning because wherever there’s a roomful of hormonal teenagers is a place that Roger Collins wants to be. Bob Russo isn’t at the got dang school dance because Bob Russo has better stuff to do. Jessica and Winston, who she was paired with as fall king and queen or some garbage as revenge for her being a manipulative bitch in the previous book. She begs Elizabeth to throw the dance competition to help her win the affections of Bruce Patman.

"I only like winners. Unless they're competing against me."

At first it looks pretty hopeless for her because Winston is of course clowning and being klutzy rather than dancing well, but then (can it be??) Bruce cuts in and they win the dance contest hands down, sharing a spotlight dance. Emily, drummer for the Droids, tells Elizabeth that they might have just played their last high school gig because a major talent scout now wants to represent them. Bruce chooses Jessica as his date to Ken’s after-dance party (it should be noted that Ken’s date is Lila, so I guess he forgave her for starting rumors that he was statutory raped in the last book).

Swimming in Ken’s lake, Bruce and Jessica exchange some deeply disgusting endearments that make me extra glad that high school is over and then while they are kissing Bruce unties her bikini top. When Jessica scolds him and reties it Bruce accuses her of being “all tease and no tickle” (we'll call that crush-buster #1) so to make it up to him she sneaks off with him to make out. Liz tries to do some standard-issue Elizabeth Wakefield cockblocking and is sent on her way by Jessica.

And on and on with this bullshit. Jessica starts dressing differently “rich and classical”, skipping classes and cheerleading practice and letting Bruce beat her at tennis (his hissy fit about losing is crush-buster #5) all to keep him. Reading this, I was disappointed in Jessica, but more disappointed in Bruce. It’s not that I think he’d make a good boyfriend, it’s just that I thought he’d be a different kind of shitty boyfriend. More neglectful, less clingy and insecure.

There is also this ongoing thing with overweight new girl Robin Wilson who is obsessed with Jessica and Pi Beta Alpha. Jessica is disgusted with Robin and her fat (rightfully so, Francine Pascal clearly believes), but finds opportunities to make her work. Since Jessica is failing Bob Russo’s chemistry class (Russo not having time for her bullshit about love), she gets Robin to steal some test answers rather than go to class and learn something because Bruce says “What about our chemistry?” Let’s put that down as crush-buster #9.

Also suffering in my boy Russo’s class is Emily. Why? Because Guy Chesney, the Droids’ keyboard player has turned into a slave driver because music is really important to him and he’s also getting more and more pissed that the agent is mainly communicating with Dana, the hot singer and keeps booking them at crappy dives that Guy then promotes as the coolest shows ever (I have never related more to a SVH character. For reals.). Jessica involves Emily in her cheating scheme, giving Emily the answer key so that SHE can in turn copy off of Emily. What did Emily do to deserve this? Well, she is brunette, so…

Elizabeth is increasingly concerned about Jessica’s personality transplant and can’t stand Bruce Patman. Even more alarming is the fact that he keeps breaking dates with Jessica and sending her spiraling into a deep depression. Bruce needs to start a cult. Usually that kind of brainwashing and conditioning takes at least a few months if not years. But Jess is sure that a super romantic, intimate birthday dinner will smooth things over between them. But Bruce is planning a massive blowout of a party for himself, oops, I mean for Jessica. Only halfway through the party he gets bad news about his grandmother whose health issues have been causing him to blow Jessica off. Elizabeth, smelling a rat, offers to take Jessica home so that Bruce can go straight to the hospital. Then she pretends to have forgotten something at the restaurant and has Todd turn around and go back. Sure enough. Ol’ 1Bruce1 (Patman’s black Porsche’s license plate, which, doesn’t that just tell you everything you’d need to know before dating this jag?) is still in the parking lot. And Bruce is inside at his party with a gorgeous redhead. Initially when I read this as an adult I mentioned to my sister that “Jessica did Anastasia Steele better than Anastasia Steele does” because she got out of her abusive relationship by throwing a drink and some pizza in his face, but upon re-reading, I realized that the manipulation and controlling behavior wasn’t what made her want out, it was just that he was controlling other girls, too. Oh well. She lets the air out of his tires on the way out and asks Winston Egbert to drive her home. The Wakefields pretty much only ever trot Winston out if they’re getting back at Bruce Patman.

What else? The Droids manager was actually just a skeevy dude trying to get into Dana’s “eye-catching red jumpsuit”. Emily comes clean to Russo and begs for forgiveness to which he’s like “Who the fuck do you think I am? Roger Collins?” and flunks that test, but does offer the option of extra credit work because he is stern, but just. Emily does not, however, rat out Jessica because heaven forbid that she ever be held accountable for her actions.

Subplots: This is the first time we touch on the idea that Guy is a little more passionate about music than his bandmates, but since I think it pretty much goes away after this book, it's not worth mentioning. Much like his "unrequited feelings for Dana". Robin and her obsession with getting into the most exclusive HIGH SCHOOL SORORITY is obviously the buildup leading to our next book.

Notes: I feel gross for even writing this because everyone should be their own person and shouldn't be controlled by who they are dating, but who the hell would want the old Jessica back? She is awful at being a person. So is Bruce, but maybe they should just go be on their own awful planet together. At least Lila got out of her relationship with Bruce because "She likes her independence too much."

Outfits: I thought about trying to figure out how to jury-rig Dana and Emily's red jumpsuits for their first non-high school gig, though the other Droids' "alluring tough guy" outfits were also tempting, but ultimately I settled on Jessica's "bright blue minidress with matching tights". Jeez. Jeeeeez, you guys. I hope you appreciate that I love y'all and love blogging and I hope this makes up for the long gap between entries.

I look like an off-duty porn star. The 80s were a dark time for fashion, guys.

Tween Lit Tuesday Baby-Sitters Club #12: "Claudia and the New Girl" vs Pen Pals #1: "Boys Wanted"

Guys… I chose poorly.

Get better ghost writers

I picked Babysitters Club because I loved their pro-girlfriends attitude and how much they love each other as opposed to the constant backstabbing in SVH. I picked a Claudia book because I figured that it would include some delightful outfit descriptions and (let’s all agree) THE BEST perspective on the meetings.

The problem is that this whole book is about how Claudia meets this super-serious, highly trained artist gal and starts spending time with her instead of the BSC. And rather than be hurt, but understanding of her pursuit of this other interest and excited about the extra jobs, they VISCIOUSLY turn on her. AND the only outfits we get described in detail are lame artist Ashley when she’s picking out fire hydrants to sculpt because it’s so “squat and noble” (this after rejecting a squashed soda can and a spit out piece of gum). Claudia went to an ART GALLERY and didn’t even describe what she was wearing. Weak. Sauce.

The BSC fight and that’s OK, but they generally don’t make up rhymes about how much they hate each other and leave mean notes all over each other’s rooms. I got the worst ghost writer to ever write about the sitters and for that I am sorry.

Notes: The one good part is when Claud has to explain to her friends that while their love and support mean the world to her, sometimes you do have to hear praise and/or critique from someone IN the field you’re interested in.

Outfit Attempt: “(Ashley) was wearing a long, all-the-way-to-her-ankles dress with three rows of ruffles at the bottom. A strip of black cloth was tied around her head… I admit it, she looked a little bizarre.” Aight…

I am not into dressing like Ashley and her stupid gd ruffles. My face illustrates this.

To make it up to you, I am also including a recap of the Pen Pals book 1. Because A. Though written for a younger set this is already better than Sweet Valley High and B. It is practically pornographic with outfit descriptions.

Pen Pals #1: Boys Wanted!

What I remember about it from when I was young: Nothing. I read a few books in the series, but not The One That Started It All.

What I know now:  I’m glad I’m not a damned teenager anymore.

So, Lisa (artsy, and dramatic), Shannon (shy, writer, sad sack), Amy (musician and athlete) and Palmer (Blanche Devereaux as a young girl) are suitemates in suite 3d of Fox Hall at Alma Stephens School for Girls. Though they don’t agree on much, they all pretty much decide that they’d like some male interaction. So they decide to run an add in the paper for the nearby all-boys school looking for pen pals. They use the codename the Foxes of the Third Dimension (because of their room/hall) and eagerly await.

Soon they find out that they haven’t gotten any letters back because headmistress Miss Pryn is looking to get to the bottom of the mystery and shut them down. They fess up, but it turns out that she was only suspicious and strict because she thought they were trying to start a sorority or secret society and she didn’t want them excluding or hazing anybody. GO MS PRYN! Alma Stephens: 1, Sweet Valley High: 0. She thinks that some letter-writing and co-ed mingling isn’t the worst thing ever.

So the gals pick out four suitemates called the Unknown and each start writing one. Lisa’s seems to be a rugged outdoorsy type named Rob and is thoroughly OK. Shannon’s goes by Mars and describes himself as a God, which Palmer points out is probably just a play on his nickname. Amy gets Simmie Randolph the III whose spelling is pretty bad (which is fine) and clarifies that he’s named after his father. Thanks, bro. Palmer gets John Adams a “jock and a  poet” and immediately wants to trade. Kind of shallow, but as someone who wrote poetry in high school, I can’t say I blame her. Plus, get a load of this one:

“This arch age
Over the mushroom sky
Roars with muzzled discontent
Tricked by rates of percentage
Until we are mortgaged
Ragged souls, sons of
Energy Wasted, spilled in the
Deep Ocean, but not deep enough” (tortured)

Yikes. Have fun Palmer.

They decide to send pictures of themselves to their pen pals. Lisa wears a red turtleneck and a pocket watch around her neck, Palmer a blue lace dress, Amy a black jumpsuit (Amy always wears black) and Shannon a pink dress that she hates and a load of insecurities. Shannon occasionally breaks out AND she has a gorgeous, popular older sister. The other girls are always quick to tell her how pretty she is and that it’s all in her imagination, but she’s just never having it. She’s unhappy with her photos because she has a pimple and at the last minute she panics and sends a picture of her hot older sister instead.

The boys are down to meet up at a dance, though the girls still don’t know who they are meeting. Lisa dresses in a peasant in a “daring” off the shoulder shirt and a long patchwork skirt, Palmer is She-Ra, Princess of Power, Amy is Joan Jet and Shanon dresses as an astronaut to hide her face because she’s afraid her pen pal will hate her! There are a few costume mix-ups, but they eventually find their correct pen pals. Rob is pretty hot, Simmie Randolph III is the hottest piece ever, John is “not disgusting” to Palmer and has red hair and great muscles and Mars has dark hair and “fiery” eyes. He and Shanon are hitting it off to the point that she doesn’t want to hide anymore. He doesn’t realize anything is even amiss until she takes her hair down and he realizes it isn’t blonde (see, she actually DOES look like her sister), then he gets mad, assumes it’s a prank and storms off. But they make up for literally no reason, he just decides he’s not mad anymore and all the girls have pen pals now. Hurray!

Notes: I feel like for fluffy tween girl fodder they got some things pretty right in this book. The girls’ interests and talents aren’t QUITE as one-note as they sometimes are (the punk/metal gal is also into team sports) and they don’t automatically excel at them. Amy is said to be a proficient guitar player, but doesn’t have a good enough voice to stay in chorus, Lisa is naturally athletic, but a bit lazy and doesn‘t work at it. They are very supportive of each other (they bolster Shanon up CONSTANTLY in this one), and I sort of like that none of the girls are particularly close to Palmer, but they make an effort to get along with her due to proximity. And I made fun of the fight for just disappearing, but that kind of happens.

Outfits: Lo, the outfits. They describe them every day. I won’t include all of them, but peep this: “… they took full advantage of the relaxed dress code. The bike pants Lisa had chosen for herself were bright pink her bright orange sweater decorated with hot pink sequins was set off by a long purple muffler wrapped several times around her neck. Amy had traded in her clunky shoes for some black cowboy boots; she was wearing a black bodysuit and a Grateful Dead T-shirt. Palmer was dressed like a naturalist in a tweed pants suit, a wide-brimmed hat and rubber soled shoes”

So much to choose from I could hardly narrow it down. So here is my take on Palmer’s “naturalist”-wear, Lisa’s red top and pocket watch and default Amy-wear.

I'll see your wide-brimmed hat and raise you a ceiling fan sprouting from my head! I wish I had a tweed suit. Pants will have to do.

The weird shorts are because they often make reference to Lisa wearing knickers and colorful tights or socks. It's too hot for tights.

Black on black on black.

Sweet Valley Sunday: Sweet Valley High 2: Secrets

What I remembered about this book from long ago: Sweet, loyal Enid Rollins went through a rough patch when her parents got divorced and did some bad stuff. Scheming Jessica outed her to the whole school because somehow that would help her win Bruce Patman. Elizabeth is caught in the crossfire.

What I know having re-read it: Jessica is still a jerk, but WOW SVH is the most easily scandalized group of teenagers ever. Even by book two Francine was losing continuity and SVH has too many damn dances.

Guys, when I read this as a youngster, Enid was my favorite character because she was quiet and had brown hair and giant green eyes, so I assumed I could relate to her. Upon the re-reads I realize that Enid is... quite boring. She serves no function other than to encourage Liz and be supportive of her and be different from Jessica's friends. Disappointing, but that's what you get for not being blonde in Sweet Valley.

We start with Jessica in a state of rage and despair once more. This time she is still angry with Elizabeth for tricking the student body into throwing her into a pool (a fair payback for claiming that someone tried to rape her, I think), so this book pretty much picks up immediately after the last one left off.

OR DOES IT? Because she suddenly starts fretting about whether or not Bruce Patman saw it and how humiliated she would be if he saw because she's been in love with him since freshman year. Sorry, what about Todd Wilkins? The guy she was so into that she was willing to screw over her sister and ruin his reputation if he didn't like her? Which is it, Wakefield?

Gossip-monger and BFULBMI (best friend until Lila becomes more interesting) Cara Walker acts as Jessica's enabler here and assures her that she looked sort of sexy (cue description of her perfect looks) and that she'll have Bruce Patman for sure when she is crowned queen of the fall dance and he is king. Jessica is worried that Enid might win because her boyfriend Ronnie is on the dance committee and could swing a lot of votes her way (yes, because the people PLANNING the dances always had so much influence. Her worries are really unclear here).

Back at the Wakefield's Stylish, Split-level Spanish-style home Elizabeth is trying to cheer Enid up by making homemade chocolate chip cookies (no hate. That would work for me.), but Enid is still in a state and is being mysterious and saying how Ronnie will never forgive her if he finds out. After some coaxing it finally turns out that after her parents divorce two years ago Enid fell in with a bad crowd and got into drinking and drugs (btw, I will not remember until I find a book that specifically tells me so, but I seem to remember Enid having skipped a grade, which makes her fifteen here and thirteen when all this went down).

Enid and George pictured here.

One night she and her buddy George were joyriding stoned and hit a kid that was playing in the road. He wasn't seriously injured, but Enid went to therapy and George went to juvie. That is pretty heavy stuff, but mostly she is worried that he's about to be out and since they've been writing letters the whole time he wants to come visit her and Ronnie will lose his mind because he's really possessive on account of his mom running off on his dad*.

*Ladies, if you are with a guy who you can't say "I've stayed in touch with a friend I went through some hard times with and he'd like to come visit" for fear that he's gonna flip out on you, don't be with him anymore. Please.

Liz calms her down and then they have a stupid pillow fight and a letter falls to the floor.

The next day in school, Jessica gossips with Cara (who the book points out is "pretty and popular in her own right" with her "sleek, dark good looks" but "no match for the stunning Jessica". Thanks for reminding us that beauty totally isn't subjective) and Lila about how their pretty French teacher Ms. Dalton is totally the apple of Ken Matthews (blonde football hunk and Lila's date to the dance)'s eye. They speculate that maybe they're having an affair and the rumor mills start a-turning. Jessica tries to flirt with Bruce, dropping her books, pretending to lose her necklace and he just isn't super interested. Upset, she goes home to cry to her mom, who is marginally sympathetic, but mostly just trying to make the fucking dinner without her daughter's histrionics. So now she heads to Elizabeth's room because it's nicer than hers and spots Enid's letter and decides to tell Ronnie (and the rest of the school) her awful secret.

So on their double date with Todd and Elizabeth everyone is noticing odd vibes from Ronnie. Todd and Liz talk about how if you love someone you should trust them "like us". Once again, they got together, like, yesterday. But now they're a couple and have all these things.

Ronnie takes Enid parking and gets really aggressive and then unceremoniously dumps her because he's convinced that she seals a handjob into ever letter she sends to George. She is angry and betrayed because she only showed those letters to Liz and also horrified that her reputation is going to be garbage not because she struck a kid with a car, but because she wrote a man letters.

"That whore!"

And that's most of the book. Sweet Valley High flips their everloving shit because Enid wrote a guy letters. Jessica makes Ronnie her date to the dance to get him on her team for queen and exacerbates things between Enid and Elizabeth, Ms. Dalton is so horrified that kids are spreading rumors about her that she is thinking about quitting her job. Guy Chesney, keyboard player for The Droids, SVH's hottest band tries to convince Elizabeth and the staff at the paper that they should do a write-up about it because it would be the only way to get all the guys at school to buy a paper (Guy Chesney is kind of a trip. I think I like him. He's an ass, but I guess he actually has a personality, unlike most of the dudes).

Then Liz figures out that maybe, just maybe Jessica had something to do with ruining someone's life, Enid inspires Ms Dalton to hold her head high and ignore the rumors, George gets out of juvie and is hot now, so he takes Enid to the dance and Elizabeth sets it up so that Winston (who is enamored of Jessica) wins the king of the fall dance instead of Bruce. Jessica is humiliated and heartbroken, Enid has a hot new man and Ken Matthews doesn't take Lila to the dance since she started the Dalton rumors.

Notes: To be such assholes, these kids are easily shocked. The Droids play every school event and most of the parties, it seems. I'm not sure if that's a sign of a supportive school or a really unimaginative cheap on. Also, there's this thing that has been going on in the books where they talk about how different Jessica and Elizabeth's style is (Jessica being flashy and revealing and Elizabeth being still stylish, but more casual and conservative), but they also talk all the time about how Jessica takes Liz's clothes. So maybe Elizabeth is super flashy, she just never gets to wear any of her own shit?

I was a little disappointed in the lack of outfit description in this book. Particularly outfits that I can replicate. It was pretty much restricted to formal wear and long, dangling rhinestone earrings. But never fear. Tween-Lit Tuesday should be a good one.

Clearly I am No Rolling Stone

First of all, I hope this is legible and not full of typos. For some reason Digby Chicken Caesar (my youngest cat, the one without the tail) has decided to love me and is lying on me thusly.

Love shackle, baby.

Casey: Hey, what's a really low-maintenance indoor plant?

Everyone: Cacti and succulents*!

Casey: What's a really low-maintenance indoor plant that doesn't require much sunlight?

Most Everyone: ...

*They aren't wrong, though. Cacti and succulents are pretty hard to kill assuming that you don't have a roommate that pours the remnants of her beer on them. Turns out cacti aren't big drinkers.

So, I've been working lately on treating my house more like a home. Because I am bouncing around a lot, working weird hours, and often only there to sleep, it has been easy to think of it as sort of a crash pad more than a home. When I realized that's probably not the healthiest mindset nor the best way to have a place where I relax and think clearly when I am there, I got to work cleaning up, putting my knick knacks out in an aesthetically pleasing way, trying to put stuff on the walls and decided it was time to lay down roots. In a literal sense.

I like house plants a lot. They do good things for the air and while my house doesn't want for living things in it, something about adding something that requires care is a good motivator for upkeep.

My house is a beautiful bungalow-style house that was built in the 20s. You can tell it was built with a mindset towards Mississippi summer heat before there was air conditioning. It has big windows, a sort of circular layout for air flow and most of the windows are shaded by the porch. It's a lovely house with a ton of character and history. I really can't say enough good stuff about it.

Now here's the issue. Because it was set up to primarily not bake it's residents alive, it doesn't get a ton of natural, direct sunlight, which is where the cacti and succulents (along with lots of other plants) are kind of at a disadvantage indoors. I had all but given up on the idea of having a little bookshelf plant when a friend of mine brought moss terrariums to my attention.

Again, I am not super good with plants, so I didn't feel 100% comfortable going and gathering living, clinging moss, but It's also pretty easy to find moss that has come loose from where it is growing and would otherwise die. Rescue moss, I like to think of it. So I grabbed some on a recent walk with Nosy (the dog).

"Help me!"

I put it in some old jars and discarded vases that I have no use for on a bed of rocks and dirt and poured over some water fully expecting to have some jars of soggy garbage within a few days, but lo and behold.

"That's much better!"

Guys, this is the lowest maintenance house plant ever. All you have to do is add water and NOT make sure it gets sunlight. Now that I'm feeling bolder, I feel like taking an adventure and finding different kinds of moss and seeing how that goes.

Any other tips for things that I should try to spruce up the house?

Tween Literature Tuesday presents: Sweet Valley High "Double Love" (not a porno)

This recap was a long one because there was actually a lot more going on in this book than I remember. So if you need a bathroom break, now is the time. I'll wait.

Welcome back.

What I remembered about this book from long ago: Jessica and Elizabeth are beautiful and they go to a school full of beautiful people (none as beautiful as them, though). Elizabeth is the sweet one and Jessica is mischievous and impetuous. They like the same guy and there’s some kind of identity mix-up so he ends up pursuing the wrong twin. Also maybe their dad was having an affair?

What I know having re-read it: Jessica is an awful person and might have borderline personality disorder. Elizabeth is less annoying than I recall, but mostly she’s a total doormat. Jessica seriously needs her weave snatched. And this book needs more Lila.

So, we start with Jessica being devastated at how ugly she is and despairing that she has nothing to wear. Neither of these is true, it is just an excuse for the book to tell us how gorgeous and trim and perfect the twins actually are (sparkling blue green eyes? check. sun-streaked blonde hair? check. size-six figures? check). Why is today so important? Because she today she is finding out whether or not she and Liz got into Pi Beta Alpha, the most EXCLUSIVE sorority on campus. Is Francine Pascal high or am I? Are high school sororities a thing? Is there hazing? WHERE IS THE SWEET VALLEY HIGH SCHOOL BOARD?

Here’s a fun drinking game: take a shot whenever the words sun-kissed or sun-streaked are mentioned. Congratulations! You have died of alcohol poisoning!

Elizabeth decides rather than walking out on her sister’s tantrum, to lend her an entire new outfit that she was planning to wear. It was a tuxedo shirt, pants and bow tie. While she’s fetching it, Todd Wilkins, handsome brunette basketball player, calls for Liz, but Jessica answers. Because Todd is just irresistible, she makes some shit up about Liz taking an endless shower and always having some boy on her arm. Since they all go to the same high school, you’d think Todd could either confirm this or say “That doesn’t sound quite right”, but he doesn’t. He rings off, dejected and Jessica tells Liz that he was just calling to wish her luck with the HIGH SCHOOL SORORITY. Liz is crushed because She! Is in love! With Todd! “Who could possibly compete with the dazzling Jessica Wakefield?” she thinks. Since it definitely couldn’t be the girl with the exact same DNA, they head to school. There is a whole thing where Jessica wails, bursts into tears, rages at Elizabeth and then gives her a hug to steal the car keys when their mom tells her that she can’t drive the car. Jessica may be a sociopath. Oh, and Elizabeth’s best friend Enid Rollins is excited because some guy named Ronnie asked her to the sorority/fraternity dance. At the high school.

There was indeed hazing for Pi Beta Alpha, but it was pretty tame. The main one mentioned is that Elizabeth had to order a pizza to be delivered to Mr. Russo’s chemistry class “the most brilliant, and demanding teacher at SVH, with a biting sense of humor”. (Is it weird to say that now that I’m an old I kind of have a crush on Mr. Russo? Our celebrity name would be Ca-Russo.) Liz didn’t want to, so Jess called it in and used Elizabeth’s name. They both get into the sorority. As does Enid, who only pledged to keep Elizabeth company.

Elizabeth is supposed to meet Todd after school, but when she gets to the courtyard she sees him driving off with Jessica instead. Apparently Jessica told him that Elizabeth ditched him for a date. Admittedly a bitch move, but once again, does Todd EVER consider asking Elizabeth in the hallways or something? He doesn’t pay Jessica enough attention, though so she accepts a date from high school drop out/troublemaker/guaranteed to date rape someone at some point in time Rick Andover.

He takes her on a date to a seedy bar where no one I.D.s. Then gets super handsy and starts a brawl. When the police arrive to bust it up the officer mistakes Jessica for Elizabeth and agrees not to take her to jail because he believes in second chances. Neighborhood gossip and bitchy redhead Caroline Pierce overhears him calling her Elizabeth and quickly spreads the word and… is this gossip-worthy? That someone was at a bar and didn’t want to be? Apparently it’s news in Sweet Valley. Todd hears the rumors too and is devastated that noble, kind, sweet Elizabeth would dare to be taken to a bar. Jessica makes a half-assed attempt to tell him that it was her, but when he clearly says that he thinks she’s taking the blame to be noble, she doesn’t correct him. He asks her to the HIGH SCHOOL SORORITY/FRATERNITY DANCE.

Super hot, super rapey Bruce Patman sleazily asks Elizabeth to the dance, but she instead says she’s going with class clown/nerd Winston Eggbert.

Of course at the dance Todd and Elizabeth are making moon eyes at each other, Jessica is working herself into a thick fog of pissed mist and Winston is being an understanding shoulder to lean on for the most part, though he is the voice of Francine Pascal’s fat-phobia in this book:

“Want to know the sort of girl people fix me up with?” he asked. “It goes like this: ‘Win, have I got a girl for you! What a personality!’ That always means two hundred and fifty pounds and two-foot-five!” I have to put her hamburger on the floor so she can reach it.”

“But, Win,” Elizabeth said, laughing, “Looks aren’t everything.”

She said to her pity date while swooning over the handsome athlete.

Anyhoozle, after the dance Jessica is furious that Todd just kissed her goodnight on the forehead. So what does she do to feel better? Journal? Have a good cry? Go out dancing with her girlfriends? Nope. She goes upstairs crying to her sister and makes up a story that he tried to rape her. You know, like balanced, emotionally stable people do.

So now Elizabeth hates Todd and Todd doesn’t know why Liz is being such a dick to him. One day as she and Jessica are driving home from school they are cut off by Rick Andover (remember him?) who jumps into their car and starts driving them back to the seedy bar (Kelly’s) drunk and rambling. The twins are panicking because this time they’ll for sure go to jail. These effing girls. Accuse someone of attempted rape because you’re kind of embarrassed that they didn’t respond to you? Sure. Let some people know that you are legitimately being kidnapped? Nah.

"I'm gonna get grounded!"

But Todd swoops in and saves them, he and Elizabeth make up, they get revenge on Jessica by letting the school throw her in the pool thinking that she is Elizabeth (because she writes the gossip column for the school paper and that’s how the student body gets revenge) and all is well… until Enid Rollins shows up at Elizabeth’s in tears because she has a Terrible Secret and Ronnie will never forgive her if he finds out.

Subplots: The rich Fowlers and the rich Patmans were wanting to buy the school football field for varying reasons and the Wakefields’ dad was building a case against them with his sexy assistant. They thought he was having an affair, but it turns out that attractive people can just work together and be friends. Lame older brother Stephen had a secret girlfriend. He was keeping her a secret because she came from the wrong side of the tracks, but the whole family (except Jessica) welcomed her with open arms, so now they’re cool.

Notes: There was a surprising amount of plots in the air in this one. Not dynamic writing or anything, but a lot going on. I had forgotten what a wretch Jessica was early on. I think Bruce Patman was my first introduction to the fact that you could find someone abhorrent, but still very attractive at least on a physical level. Also, I remember being told what a dreamboat Roger Collins the English teacher was, but as previously discussed, I’m all about that Russo.

And finally: What I hope will become a much-loved Tween-Lit Tuesday tradition, outfit attempts! Many of these books include some delightful outfit descriptions. When that happens, I will try to recreate said outfit with items from my own wardrobe. I decided to bypass Liz's white strapless dress and Jessica's "blue and slinky" number with a "neckline so low Todd will be panting!" in favor of an outfit worn by both twins in this book: "My new tuxedo shirt." "Can I borrow the pants, too? And the little bow tie?" I don't have a tuxedo shirt (more's the pity), but I do have a pretty sweet tie-neck blouse I got in Chicago and some City Thrift pants that are about the right cut. So here you go!

Keep reading and next time I might remember to brush my hair and put on makeup!

And that's our first TLT. So what about next week? You guys want to find out what Enid's big secret is? Or try out a new series? Let me know!

Weekend Wanderings

I used to be an "I hate Mondays" person until I realized that that isn't fair and that all days stand an equal chance of being awful. This Monday I'm in a pretty good mood. Partially because I'm off work and mostly because I actually had a super good weekend.

Saturday was insanely busy. Because I am all about procrastination, one thing on my to-do list was to see if I could find a gift for Mom for Mother's Day. She is notoriously hard to shop for (a trait which I may have inherited), but I figured I would give the flea market and a couple of local antique shops a shot at providing me with something unique that she would like. They didn't, but trips to the antique store/flea market are never a total bust because they are a maze of old treasures and I always feel like Ariel in her cave of human trinkets when I'm in them. Plus, I found a gorgeous old tea set that ended up going to my Mother in law. Some of the less glamorous findings:

The life of a wrestling action figure isn't so different from the life of a wrestler. Once an audience decides you are less relevant you are worth a lot less and discarded. Sad.
 

"Here to haunt your dreams!"

After that it was off to Pontotoc (my old home town) to attend my aunt's wedding. She was lovely and the service was short and to be honest, I can't ask for much more from a wedding. It was good to spend time with my cousins and to see her so happy. However, it must be acknowledged that I am a complete scrub and got no pictures of the ceremony. I wish I could claim that it was because I didn't have my camera, but that excuse doesn't hold water because I DID get a picture of this cicada.

(Hint, I am going to talk about these again on the blog at a later date.)

I guess I was just enjoying the company and the beautiful view and the shade. And watching my Mom's stupid turkey. Just trust me that Aunt Lisa was gorgeous and everyone seemed very happy.

After that it was back to Tupelo to get ready for the West of Shake Rag improv show. What's that? You haven't heard of the award-winning, wide-travelling improv team West of Shake Rag?

www.westofshakerag.com

(I am going to talk about them again on the blog at a later date)

It was a Star Wars themed show which was great because I got to dress like this:

And the drinks were guarded like this                                                                                                    

Emily Weathers: Costume Queen

And after the show I got some heavenly strawberry cake and some good conversation with friends.

Sunday of course was Mother's Day. So it was back to Pontotoc with me. I met up with Mom, stepdad and sister out at the barn for some work with the horses (they worked. I am useless) and Mom let me help gather eggs and I ended up getting the Mother's Day gift of good conversation with my lovely mother.

Mom's new kids

When I got back to Tupelo it was time to walk Nosy, but with a bonus mission in mind. Gathering uprooted moss. I am trying to make some moss terrariums and am not currently confident enough in my skills to keep it alive to uproot any moss myself, so mine is all "rescue moss" at present.

Kind of looks like I skinned a Grouch and am going to sell it's pelt.

I'll let you know how that all goes.

So overall, I feel inspired, creatively fulfilled and relatively productive this weekend. And even better, while at the flea market I found a guy selling old postcards from as far back as 1909. Cool in and of itself. Even cooler when I began to dig through them and found that many had been filled out. Expect more on that later. ;) 

I hope yours were all just as good. Don't forget to stop back by tomorrow for Tween Lit Tuesday and the review/recap of Sweet Valley High's "Double Love"!

Pictured: Double love

Things My Mom Did for Me That Benefit Me as a Person

Moms are the best. Especially mine. Yes, everyone says that, and I'm not going to try and tell you that mine is better than yours. Your mom is probably amazing. If she's still with you tell her that I commend her on raising a good human. Unless you're a murderer or something. In that case, shame on you. You probably really let your mom down. I will say that my mom was the best mother for me. Here are a handful of the things that I think she got super right. If you yourself are a parent, consider adding them to your repertoire.

1. She read to me.

And she read with me. And she carted me or walked with me or let me walk to the library. A lot. And books/literature are still a topic of conversation that we keep up. I think that reading has made me a more empathetic human person and more open-minded. I grew up in a very small town. Literature was a way to expand my horizons and at least get an inkling that other people live differently or just experience life differently than I do. To this day, I tend to have some firm opinions, but I know that they are just that: opinions. Good for me, not for everybody. These are skills that I learned both from her and in living experiences that weren't mine.

2. She didn't talk shit about bodies.

Other people's OR hers. And she didn't tolerate a ton of self-loathing from my sister and me. Light joking was always acceptable, but I don't think I ever completely got mired down in the teenage self-loathing like I might have if I hadn't had a mom who loved her body and spoke positively of mine. And let's be honest, body shaming is gross and we shouldn't do it. Unless you are someone's physician, you are in no position to comment on their weight.

3. She walked with me.

I am a walking fiend. I do some good thinking when I'm walking and I think it comes from animated family discussions that we had while taking a leisurely stroll or (if Dad was with us), struggling to keep up with him because for some reason he sped up when he went uphill. What a maniac. Those were good times with my people and I appreciate that both parents got me started on that.

4. She was always creative.

My mom worked a lot. A job, school work, a teaching job, house work, church work, yard work and raising two kids. But she also made us clothes or sewed toys or did art projects or drew illustrations for us or sang/played an instrument. It is super easy to get overwhelmed and decide that you're too busy for something essential, but if you are stimulated by creativity, you always need to make that time for yourself. Otherwise you'll just end up more overwhelmed and miserable.

5. She made and kept close friends for a long, long time.

Mom is definitely more social than I am, though she was never a social butterfly. But like she does, I boast some of the same flipping excellent friends that I made in grade school. She made checking up on people and staying in touch a priority, so she never lost contact with people. She's always been a considerate friend and quick to offer help with a problem. Today when I was talking about a film project that I'm working on the first question she had was "How else can I help?" Now that I am at an age where I can be friends with Mom, I hope I can be a friend LIKE Mom (hey, friends, I love you guys, too!).

Here's to my Mom and here's to yours.

Bonus Dad picture because good partners make good Mothering easier.

(Note: usually the pictures that I use in a post will be my own, but I can't find my memory card with most of my mom photos so these were stolen from my sister Forrest, my Aunt Lisa, my Uncle Donny and my stepfather Anthony. Just wanted credit where credit is due)

A Letter to My Depression

To you, my constant companion. You, that little voice that assures me that I can't and that my efforts will never be good enough. You that takes both my energy and my sleep. You that poison my brain until even my body is sick. This one is for you.

In a way I kind of admire you. Me? I am spoiled to instant gratification and patience is a virtue that I can't fathom. If I climb a flight of stairs and can't find a milkshake nearby enough I am ready to lie down until the vultures start circling (though I suppose I can attribute a bit of that to you as well). It doesn't take a lot to defeat me at least in the short term. But you? My God, you're like the early settlers. You are able to wait patiently and silently and gather what little morsels and seeds you need to survive for as long as you need. Feeling good about myself? Taking care of my body, surrounding myself with positive people and trying to create opportunities for myself? That's cool. You're good. You can wait. You're just hanging on to that one unkind word from a trusted source, that bad day at work, that ruined project. You don't need them right now. You can plant and tend them and harvest them and feed on them until you are strong enough to attack me again and by then they've grown into something massive and so have you. It really is impressive. It's also the scariest thing about you. I can back you into a corner or drown you out, but you're still always there.

Kind of admire you, but I mostly just hate you. I hate that I don't remember how to be me when you are driving. I hate that not only am I not happy (that's to be expected sometimes, that's just life), but I can't actually remember what happiness feels like to me. I know it is in the world, but it is like shellfish: just something that my body rejects. I'm like a plant stuck in a closet with the door cracked open. I know the sun is out there, but I can't get to it and the longer I'm away from it, the worse I feel and the worse I get. I hate feeling guilty because I feel bad even though objectively I have a good life. There are people in the world who would kill for my problems. I hate that I'm unable to see that when you're taking an active role. I hate that when you're up and about I have to ask myself if I really think the things I'm saying or if I'm just speaking in your voice. I hate that you, like my coarse hair and my headaches and my bad thyroid, will always be a part of me.

But even if you are always something that I travel with, you aren't me. What's more, I have weapons. I have a handful of friends and family that love me unconditionally and support me despite our disagreements and no matter how unbearable you make me. I have my writing, which even when it's bad, is an outlet. I have comedy. Any time I am able to make someone laugh I am reminded "Right! That's what it feels like. I can feel that, too." What's more I have people who are far smarter, more creative and talented than me who are dealing with these same demons and I can draw inspiration from them. You're on top right now, but you aren't always going to be. I can and will win. And sure, that won't be the end of the match, it's just another round of punches thrown, but remember that every day I'm alive to say "This sucks and I don't want to feel this way anymore", I am getting closer to winning.

Cheers to you. I'll see you when you pass by me on your way back to the corner.

-C

Tune In Next Week for Tween-Lit Tuesday

My Mom always encouraged my sister and me to read and instilled a deep love of fiction in us from an early age. And thanks to a pretty excellent local library (Pontotoc County Library represent!), I had access to an excellent array of books for young people that made the transition from children's stories to the more daunting adult side of the library seamless as well as introducing me to characters that inspire and influence me to this day (and easing some of the trauma of reading adult horror books when Mom wasn't looking. Silly move on my part.).

Those aren't the books that I will be reading and breaking down on Tween-Lit Tuesday.

I'm going to be focusing more on the books that were specifically written for young 'uns who are either just about to or only recently hit the double digits in age to check out/read five and ten at a time. The literary equivalent of Skittles. The stock, cardboard cut out characters that we grew up with and got to know and took fashion cues from. Think Babysitters Club. Think Sunset Island. Pen Pals, Palm Beach Prep. Characters with all the depth of Real World cast members that were made for young people to identify with (I like drawing and have bad grades. I must be a Claudia!).

Part of why I'm doing this is because I think it will be fun. Another reason is that my local used book stores are a treasure trove of these books for super cheap and I can read them in an afternoon.

So swing by next Tuesday. I will be starting with Sweet Valley High #1 "Double Love".

When I was in around the fifth grade or so, I remember starting to read SVH because it was obviously more grown up and gritty than other book series in that section and would better prepare me for high school (much like "Pet Semetary" would better prepare me for pet ownership in my young brain. Just because you're in the gifted class doesn't mean you're smart!). It mainly focuses on two impossibly beautiful sisters and their beautiful friends in their beautiful California town and their stylish, split level Spanish-style house (that phrase really sticks in my head). On the outside they are identical (and have a serious case of 80s-face) and on the inside they are very different

                                                    "Guess which one of us is the Madonna
                                                      and which one is the Whore!"

I guess this one is going to be about them liking the same guy, cost 1.75 and... Wait a second.

                                                                       GD it.

So keep reading the blog in general, but definitely check it out next Tuesday where we'll discuss Jessica, Elizabeth and mark-ups in twice-donated books.

I Was a Young Idiot and Now I'm a Grown One

When I was a kid, I thought adultery referred simply to something an adult does.

Even as I typed that sentence I realize that phrased like that I wasn't wrong, but I'm leaving it there. You guys should all know up front who you're signing up to read.

To better phrase that, I thought it was anything that adults do that kids do not: paying bills? Adultery. Driving? Adultery. Planning and scheduling? Adultery. I realized at a fairly early age that I wasn't interested in involving myself with adultery (and after I found out what the definition actually was, I was still OK with that decision).

Here's the thing, though. That calendar on your wall (or more realistically on your phone) doesn't actually give a creamed damn on rye about what you're interested in so years keep on passing. And maybe you, like me suddenly found yourself with a pile of bills and no adult in sight. Or possibly even some very avoidable expenses that you shouldn't have incurred attached to no purse strings but your own.

                                                  (oops)

And suddenly you have dependents that need you to help keep them alive and such and now you're the person that has to do that.

                                               "We are your responsibility!"

And you realize that adulthood has been thrust upon you (in good news, Captain Crunch is now a legitimate dinner option as decreed by an adult!).

It's odd. In my head I'm not exactly a child, but I often really wish I had someone higher up that was accountable for me. Because another childhood theory that I had was that when you got to be an adult you'd more or less know what you were doing and that has certainly not been the case in my experience. The difference is that now I have to figure it out. But it seems like I know a lot of other people who are figuring it out as well. So my main goal is to make this a place where people can talk about or laugh about navigating these treacherous seas.

So that's it for now. Hopefully you'll visit again to hear about the highs (one of my jobs is literally to play pretend and make people laugh!), the lows (one of my jobs makes me think about murdering people with a hammer!), in in-betweens and the parenthetical overload that is where I have to store all my excess thoughts. I don't know exactly what I'm doing here, but like in life, I think I'll figure out my best course of action.