Thursday, October 27, 2005
Ramblings
Were I in an analytical mood, I could make complex theories about the ways in which our dependence on technology is rendering us unable to communicate with one another by presenting barriers in the forms of earbuds, but as I started with my reasoning, I realized that I am not, in fact, an analytical person and, perhaps more importantly, I don't really like people very much, so an excuse to ignore them makes my life that much easier.
Anyway, I realized today that the best thing about having an iPod is the ability you have to soundtrack your life over the course of the day. Does anybody else do that? It can't just be me...right? Because that seems like one of the perks of being a movie character (that and the wardrobe and the huge houses that they can afford on a secretary's salary), to be able to walk proudly through a crowd to the tune of "Freedom 90" or have, like, "Two of Us" playing as you and your best friend drive around. All of this was easy to do with the Discman and the Walkman, of course, but the handy dandy playlist feature on the iPod is so nifty, because you can sort it by mood and then your soundtrack can be for a zany romantic comedy, a tragedy or perhaps the true story of a flamboyant drag queen (Madonna and George Michael are my top two artists, is all I'm saying).
Invariably, soundtracking my life will always lead me to plot out the movie of my life. Sure, the idea of watching a movie about me requires the teensiest suspension of disbelief ("The amazing story of a girl who answers phones, sleeps and drinks Diet Coke, coming soon to a theater near you!"), but that's neither here nor there. Who would play me? Sophomore year of high school, the comparison was Katie Holmes (I had a slouching habit), but due to the impending birth of El Ronita Cruise, I think she's too big of a star to slum it in Mother, Why Must I Get Decaf?: A Lifetime Moment of Truth Movie, so...I'd probably wind up with Haylie Duff. Not even the good Duff (well, as it were). So if I am stuck with a budget cast, Rodrigo Santoro probably wouldn't want to play the object of my affection and Felicity Huffman wouldn't sign on to play my mother. Rhea Perlman would likely still agree to the role of my office manager, though...
What if, I then wonder, E! did a True Hollywood Story about me? It's not entirely out of the realm of possibility, even if I wasn't the subject of a movie, because they're totally slumming with some of their choices lately (i.e., the Jessica and Ashlee Puff Piece, and Jenny McCarthy and Laci Peterson, who has what to do with Hollywood besides inspiring TV Movies that brought Dean Cain back into the nation's consciousness). I hope that the guy would be the narrator. It may make me a traitor to my gender or whatever, but the woman who does the E!THS blows. She tries to be too cutesy and simultaneously hard-hitting, while the man has the perfect blend of investigative fervor and melodrama.
Random "Friend", possibly the woman who used to do my nails, in heinous 1980s garb: Mallory sometimes found it very hard to keep her balance.
Melodramatic Narrator: This was a recurring problem in Mallory's life. There were times when she would fall.
Cue reenactment of some aspiring actress with a shoddy Mallory wig falling over an extension cord.
Melodramatic Narrator: Fall far, and fall hard.
It's at this point in my odd mental brainstorm that I inevitably realize that I need to focus on productive things. If I put as much effort into real problems as I did into choreographing elaborate scenes where an entire movie cast bursts out into "Spice Up Your Life", I would surely have a lucrative career. But, yet, here I am, writing about my neuroses for all the world to see. By the by, I prefer "charmingly quirky" to "straight up psychotic", in case it ever comes up.
I'm not sure what any of this had to do with anything (Besides my as of yet undiagnosed nervous disorder), but I've been dealing with a rampant bout of writer's block, so I felt it necessary to write something--anything!--and the world of celebrity wasn't giving me anything to work with. I mean, if I keep writing so obsessively about Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes, I fear that I am flirting with the very real threat of a lawsuit, not to mention catching the crazy. Everybody else has been eerily quiet, unless you count Paris Hilton, who I will not write about because I feel that we all talk about her too much and are therefore responsible for prolonging her fifteen minutes of fame. I could maybe rant some more about the fact that Jessica Biel was chosen Esquire's Sexiest Woman Alive despite being markedly less sexy than, say, Gisele Bundchen, Jessica Alba, the woman who works at Dunkin' Donuts and more. Jessica Freaking Biel, people. The word sexy has officially lost all meaning.
I leave you with a Britney Spears Federline Moment of Zen. It's like she's trying to earn my love back!
Kevin Federline recently brought home some music he’d recorded and he played it for Spears, according to the new issue of In Touch Weekly.
His efforts were “greeted with hurtful laughter from his superstar wife, who was unimpressed,” reports the mag. “She said his debut CD might sell ‘a hundred, maybe a thousand’ copies if he was lucky,’” an “insider” told the mag, who added, “Kevin looked really hurt.
Hee!
Mallory at 10/27/2005 05:21:00 PM
1 Comments
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at 6:31 PM
CLC said... They would have to play our THS' back to back, because mine would also prominently feature falling ("Here's CLC falling in heels." "Here's CLC falling in flip-flops." "Here's CLC tripping over her own shadow.") and, of course, would have make frequent mention of my tireless companion, Ferris Q. iPod. He is my rock. He helps put that extra spring in my step. When I set him on Shuffle, he always seems to know that I am in the mood to hear from Metallica's Black album to some iteration of Britney. He doesn't tell people about my super-secret affinity for Kelly Clarkson or the Backstreet Boys "I want it that way." Oops.
I have long taken to saying that an indication you are living life to its fullest is when you have enough material for a THS, or, if you display some semblance of musical talent, a Behind the Music, or if you have a flair for the dramatic (and abusive family members, substance abuse, triumph over adversity) a Lifetime docudrama. As boring as I think my life has gotten lately, I have decided I would even settle on enough material for a Dateline newsstory - somehow a Stone Phillips silky-smooth baritone narration of my life would lend it some kind of faux-glamour ("And now back to our story, where we re-join CLC sitting, once again, at her desk.")
Oh so rambly today.
Saw a quote in US Magazine this weekend from Jamie Foxx about T.Cruise that I wish I had written down - as it was a recognition the concept you have so aptly coined "the overlaugh." To paraphrase - Jamie said he loved to tell jokes on the set of Collateral, and he loved to tell them to Tom b/c he would always laugh, but that a lot of times Tom would start to laugh too hard and "it just left me sitting there thinking, 'What the f*&%?'"
Nice.