Saturday, February 26, 2011

Slightly Nostalgic/Drunken Review of Disney's Cinderella

0:12 – Worst. Opening Song. Ever.

3:13 – I want birds to pull back my drapes to awake me with the dawn’s rays.

3:43 – But if they tried to touch me or my comforters, I would fuck their shit.

4:18 – I know she just woke up and all, but bitch looks seriously high.

4:41 – Do they hold singing auditions for Disney Princesses? It seems like a prerequisite that birds and woodland creatures must enjoy your vocalizations in order to qualify.

5:14 – BAHAHAHA That mouse’s tail got all knotted up while he slept. PWNed.

5:53 – “Even they can’t order me to stop dreaming!” Deeeeeeeep shit.

7:03 – Why is it always the fat mouse scatting a descant?


8:26 – If all the mice (My drunken ass just said ‘mouses’ in my head.. No judgey.) are wearing outfits, isn’t the presence of a naked one kinda pornographic? I mean, he’s fat so you can’t see his junk…but still. Perverts.

8:43 – Jack the mouse: “Hey little guy, we rike-uh you!” Are all mice Asian?

11:54 – The dog just woke up. Is everybody stoned in this movie?! You just know that he and Cinderella totally 420 together.

21:19 – One of the step-sisters is a dead ringer for Olive Oyl

23:55 – Oh goodie, the king looks like the baron in Chitty-Chitty Bang-Bang!

26:46 – “Oh siiiiing, sweet nighdngale, sing sweet nighdngale…” Hey, Ella, this isn’t the Apollo. Reconize.

27:17 – She’s harmonizing with her own reflection in a bubble. High confirmed.

27:37 – Female reflection barbershop quartet. Fuck me.


31:21 – For music geeks only: same chordal structure as ‘Be Our Guest’.

32:31 – “Leaving the sowing to the women; you go get some trimmin’.” This line caused then 16 year-old Gloria Steinam to burn her first training bra. Fact.

36:39 – If I had a mouse, I would totally bead its tail with a 9 year-old girl who just returned from a family vacation in St. Lucia.

41:23 – Frazzled-just-had-her-dress-torn-apart-by-step-sisters Cinderella totally looks like Jem. Way to be 150 years ahead of your time, girl.

42:11 – Aw, poor li’l snowflake is crying by her angel fountain. KIDS IN CHINA HAVE NO ANGEL FOUNTAIN.

43:08 – Why is the Fairy Godmother in KKK robes?

44:06 – “I would say the first thing we need is a pumpkin.” Crazy ol’ bitch.


44:36 – For music geeks only pt 2: “Bibbidy-Boppity-Boo” = “We’re Off to See the Wizard” chordal structure. Mash-ups to follow.

44:41 – Does anyone else think that nonsense songs are just ways for untalented lyricists to fake it? No? Just me? Cool.

46:10 – So she turns the mice into horses and the horse into a coachman? This seems like far too much work.

46:11 – Actually, buckteeth aside, that’s a pretty hot coachman. I’d hit it.

47:09 – Um, nice dress, but a black choker? What is this, 1996? I don’t think so, buddy.

48:38 – I just counted the processional and there are 15 eligible young ladies in all of France. IS THE CENSUS TAKER STONED, TOO?! Christ on crutches…

51:09 – “Pompous windbag” is the “stupid motherfucker” of 1850s France.

54:45 – The clock just stuck midnight! Ok, I’m on my second bowl of popcorn, which I air popped on the stove with Crisco and a pot. Do any other grain-y-type-things pop or just corn. I mean, I guess rice pops, cause we have rice crispies. And there’s puffed wheat, too, I guess. Clearly, I’m not so engaged in this movie right now.

103:49 – Omg, bitch just locked Cinderella in her room! I forgot about this paaaaaart! It’ll be okay, Gus-Gus! It’ll be okaaaaaaay.


113:05 – Stepmother broke the glass slipper but it doesn’t matter cause Cinderella has the other one!!!!!! Ok, I just misted up.

113:43 – Wedding day. Still with the black choker. Really? REALLY?

Monday, February 21, 2011

There was a boy I went to school with. He transferred to my elementary school in the fourth grade, distractingly pretty features and slightly effeminate manners. Naturally, the majority of his friends were girls. We never had a class together, but stayed in the same schools until grade 12 graduation and he was always a source of interest for me. He still dated girls in high school, the longest, ironically, being with the girl I went out grade 8. First and only, baby. He had a lightness to him. Not pertaining to his loafers, specifically, but rather that his whole spirit was light. His face shone, his features so finely set. I saw him once after high school, at a gay club in Winnipeg, and we did the "Oh hey! We're both out at a club!" hug and that was really all there was.

Nearly three years ago, he was driving down a street in Montreal, were he now lives. There had been a huge storm the day before and the ground was still littered with debris. A huge branch sprawled across the road in front of him and so he stopped the car and got out to move it. At that moment, another massive bow broke off from a tree on the boulevard and fell onto him, shattering his spine. He lost all mobility below the waist, was told that his chances of walking again are negligible and began a new, twisted version of his former life in a wheelchair. He moved into an assisted living facility for others who had suffered similar injuries. His boyfriend of 4 months eventually broke up with him, understandably unwilling to cope with this magnanimous change in the new relationship.

Less than six months later, he met someone new. The guy was a bit older, not too much, perhaps ten years, but if Facebook photos are any indication, they are very well matched. They got engaged last spring. Engagement photos were taken, white background, my former classmate in his wheelchair, newly huge arms, beaming smile, and his fiance next to him, mirroring that facial expression. They're getting married this summer.

This Valentine's Day, the guy I had been seeing for a few weeks prior forgot that he'd asked me to go out with him and made plans with his friends. Despite being apologetic, no make up plans were made, the only subsequent contact being a text message saying 'hug' around 11:30 that night. This was a guy who broke all my dating conventions (white, same age), was a psychic medium (seriously. That was his business), said wonderful things to me and made no actions to follow through on them. In the first week we met, I was at his place 4 times, taking care of his influenza-ridden body and alcohol-ridden mind, and I was glad to do it. On his end, he said that I was beautiful and that he'd waited a long time for me.

Continuing the outlier pattern established, I ended it, not him, which is likely understandable given what you read in the previous paragraph. I issued myself a little pat on the back with not sticking around longer than a couple weeks after finding out what this person really was. He was cracked, marked and broken, not unlike myself, but in no way seemed likely to patch himself up anytime soon and so I walked, like my friend's ex-boyfriend after his accident, and even more justifiably so.

This leaves me wondering, jackassily: ok, if a guy can lose all use of his body below the waist (ALL use) and wind up happy and engaged a year later, what does it say that I've been going at this with a mere limp for 10 years and can't find someone worth sticking around an entire month for? The decade-old dialogue of "It'll happen when it happens" and "Just be patient" have worn thin and I think it's time to perform a spiritual castration, turning myself into an emotional asexual, existing as the lone member of the species and completely self-propagating. Not a sad thing and certainly not a call for compliments, which inevitably accompany any self-depressive comment in the digital age, but I think it would be very freeing.

I've started a couple entries in the past couple months, but none seem right to put out there. This probably isn't either, but I wrote it out for myself, so might as well post it. I miss reading my favourite bloggers and having those electronic interactions, but things are just too hectic with school. I almost long for the days of an autonomous soul-sucking job, the consequence of which was that I had all this intellectual/humorous build up that needed to come out via posts. But this is how it is for now. Hopefully I'll find my way back.