It has come to my attention that I am now an “adult”, and as such it seems one of my responsibilities is to feed myself. This has proven to be a considerable challenge over the past few years, and so as of late I have taken it upon myself to improve my efforts and visit the “grocery store” (if you will).
I’ve performed a number of experiments in this vein, and being an intelligent young woman I have concluded that it is no longer a conducive choice to purchase bags of kale. As it turns out, I don’t really eat the kale.
However, because I theoretically value my health, it is important to me to make decisions that cater to my long term well being*. This is indeed why I got this stupid shitty bag of Cheetos®.
These particular Cheetos® suck. This bag was full of false promises. First, I was under the impression that the “puffs” aspect would provide a lighter snacking experience to again, ensure my health*. In retrospect, and after having consumed the Cheetos® first hand, I’m not so sure that this is actually the case. I was also drawn in by the word “simply”, inferring that the Cheetos® would be a fairly organic snack. Again, in hindsight, I guess they aren’t because they’re still Cheetos®. The “white cheddar” label, to me, also implied that I would be taking care of my health* by sticking to all-natural cheese flavorings. Upon opening the bag, I think they would have been more appropriately labeled “white chalk”.
Basically, they tasted like shit. The puffs part of it made it gross, the white cheddar part was also gross, and, to top it all off, after some careful analysis, I realized the health* aspect of this snack was all in the marketing and not a reflection of the actual product.
Will I be purchasing these Cheetos® again? No. Do I recommend these Cheetos® to anyone else? No. If you’re going to eat Cheetos® should you just go for the real deal, only slightly worse for you, toxic bright orange colored ones that are still shit but at least taste pretty decent when accompanied with a poisonous beverage like Diet Coke®? Yeah, probably.
*low calorie count to stay kind of skinny
I don’t think I can do a blog post a day. I’ve been feeling especially drained and melancholy this week – for obvious reasons – and I decided maybe there’s something to be said about living in the moment and taking life as it comes, instead of forcing yourself to do something because you feel like you “should” in order to accomplish… I don’t even know what, exactly.
I would like to write more regularly though, and to make it more of a habit.
I suppose I am trying to learn the value of patience… and quality over quantity. When there’s too much pressure to perform or produce I think sometimes it’s easy to just put out a bunch of crap because you’re pushing yourself too hard and writing (or whatever it is) for the wrong reasons.
I’m still looking for the balance… or maybe searching for inspiration. I hope I come across either of those things soon.
Robin Williams’ passing has been difficult and heavy for me in a way I wasn’t expecting. Several people have already written tributes to him that articulate emotions I couldn’t find the words to, and so I’m grateful for the eloquence of others, especially Russell Brand.
A lot of incoherent thoughts have been circulating in my mind about Robin, depression, comedy, insanity…
I am definitely not alone in feeling a personal connection to Robin Williams, perhaps a testament to just how truly magnetic and influential he was.
I suppose what I want to try to say is this…
When I was growing up I was strange. I’d do my best to fit in, but never totally did. Even amongst my fellow freaks I felt sort of out of place, like, just because we all share “loser” status doesn’t mean we’re the same kind of losers. My loserdom seemed to mostly stem from being extremely introverted, sensitive, and also completely shut down in an attempt to fade into the background and float past my circumstances until the day I’d be free to be me.
“Becoming” myself has been quite the journey, and perhaps another reason why the news of Robin Williams’ passing feels so life-shattering.
I mean this because of the impact people like Robin had on my life growing up. I felt very trapped in a lot of ways. I felt uncomfortable with myself. And I’d see people like him, specifically him, and I felt like they understood something the rest of the world didn’t. His genius felt like a light guiding the way. I’d obsessively delve into movies and TV to the point that people like Robin Williams felt like they were really my friends. I’m sure, perhaps ironically, I’m not alone at all in those feelings.
I always wanted to be a comedian ever since I was old enough to have delusional pipe dreams, and a huge motivation for me was always just the sense that once I accomplished my goals I’d finally be able to connect with other human beings. Comedians like Robin Williams were an inspiring daydream, a far off hope that one day I’d be hanging out with “my people”.
I’ve been fortunate enough to work at some pretty cool places in the entertainment industry where I’ve met some very wonderful, talented, genuine, inspiring, hilarious, creative, and insane people. I’ve also had the pleasure of collaborating on a few creative projects with my friends, and for perhaps the first time in my entire life I feel alive.
I feel a sadness knowing how fragile we all are. I feel a resonance with Robin Williams, an understanding of depression that causes me a great amount of empathy and remorse for the pain he suffered. Being sensitive, creative, and insane is a difficult path. I feel a lot of love for Robin Williams and the gifts he gave us, and I feel grateful for the time he spent here with us on Earth. I feel a renewed sense of appreciation for my own life. I feel grateful that, even though there was a time I felt alone and hopeless, that there were beacons of light like Robin Williams promising that there were other fucking weirdos in the world who would understand me and appreciate me for my own madness. I honestly feel blessed that I have met so many inspiring people pursuing their dreams – today, not to be overly saccharine, but who gives a shit… I’m already living my dreams. I’ve found my people. I am just devastated that the stupid cliche is somewhat true, you don’t totally appreciate what you have until it’s gone.
I am mostly in shock. The reality of this news hasn’t completely hit me yet. My means of grappling with it is to write this blog post. The loss feels personal somehow.
There are certain celebrities who really resonate with me to a point where I feel like I actually know them as old friends them even though clearly I don’t. Robin Williams was such an inspiration in my life. He was the real deal. He had an undeniable gift, and was able to access his creativity on a genius level. I truly love him. I often think about how comedy is so intricately linked to the darker aspects of life. That perhaps the ability to laugh at the absurdity of it all is the best survival mechanism. There was an authenticity in Robin Williams’ performances that can’t be taught. His characters, no matter how goofy, even the genie, felt like they were accessed from the heart. It feels like no combination of words can appropriately articulate his talent, although obviously I don’t need to explain. Robin Williams’ legacy speaks for itself.
I have one, small Robin Williams anecdote.
I was working on Wilfred and had to make a run to set. I opened those heavy set doors and a man exited right as I was entering. The maneuvering was a bit awkward, since the passage was small and he was coming and I was going. For some reason, I was wearing my purse and in the moment did a double take. I was face to face with Robin Williams. As my body turned around awkwardly, so did my purse, and it totally slapped him in the stomach. I apologized quickly and disappeared as we were going separate ways.
It took me a second to collect my thoughts and process the moment that had just happened. I’m sure to him it was immediately forgettable, but I had just hit one of my comedic heros in the stomach with my purse. I suppose in a way it was an appropriate way to cross paths with him.
I’m grateful for the brush of magic I got to have with him. He wasn’t even an actor on set that day, he was just a good person and since he had done a guest appearance a season earlier, he came to visit.
He’s obviously gone too soon, and it still doesn’t feel real. I hope he’s found some peace.
I decided I’m going to take the weekends off from blog posts. I’m worth it.
It’s day seven of my attempt to write a blog post a day. So far, I’ve done it. Was I lacking inspiration this week? Sure. Were some of my posts a bit of a stretch for material? Yeah, maybe. Were others overly sappy and emotional for no reason? Hey, we all have our bad days.
I’d like to thank everyone who helped me get here today. First I’d like to thank my parents, for hopefully not using the computer very often and presumably not reading anything I do on the Internet. Remember, ignorance is bliss! I’d also like to thank many of my friends, for probably also not reading my blog. I genuinely appreciate you looking the other way when I post embarrassing / mediocre shit in an attempt to refine my skills, so your indifference means a lot to me. I couldn’t do it without you. Third, I’d like to thank the random Internet strangers and two close friends who probably did read my posts this week. I guess I couldn’t become a better me without embarrassing myself in front of you all of the time. Your appreciation and praise of my work inspires me to keep going, but is simultaneously difficult for me to internalize and accept, so, well, thanks I guess.
Most of all I’d like to thank the love of my life. The wind beneath my wings, my baby boo, Rita Roo.
Rita, your continual presence and support in my life is something I do not take for granted. You are there by my side all the time, toughing out the rough times of trying to come up with some shitty blog posts and lightening the mood by being adorable. Words can’t express how much you mean to me. We’ve been through a lot together, and I can’t think of anyone I’d rather sleep the entire day away with. You never even bark. You are just too awesome. Even though sometimes I feel lost in your shadow, because you are the best dog in the entire world and it’s hard to beat that, I am still awed by your greatness – you inspire me to try and be a better human.
#6 – A Review of the New TMNT Movie Based On Having Not Seen It But I Mean Come On This Is A Pile of Shit
This is a review of the new TMNT Movie based on my not having seen it personally but, I mean, realistically, I don’t need to see more than this to know that this movie is a big ol’ steaming pile of crapola. In fact, I’m probably insulting your intelligence right now by even bothering to explain the situation. You have eyes. We can all see this abomination for what it is.
I am pretty sure there are dementors rampant in Hollywood, as is evidenced from the fact that the public is literally having their souls SUCKED FROM THEIR BODIES with garbage like this.
“Hey,” a bunch of jackasses wearing business casual and pretentious sunglasses at an overpriced shitty bar like Pink Taco in Century City said to themselves. “We have a great idea. Remember the beloved classic Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles? What a great franchise. How about instead of carrying on and honoring TMNT by following in its footsteps and creating a new, original, inspiring set of animal-like action heros based on a wacky and goofy premise, we’ll just rip off and ruin it by completely eliminating any charm or heart it used to have, giving the script to a fucking monkey to write, throwing lots of money at it for no reason, and slapping the worst possible CGI renditions on top of the package just to give the finished product the feeling that you’re really just subliminally watching us jerk off to how much money we’ll make off this bastardization.”
The worst part is in this one trailer, not sure if it’s the one I linked to (who cares), but anyway, Michelangelo DROPS SOMETHING and says, I shit you not, “Uh, I MEANT TO DO THAT.”
“I MEANT TO DO THAT!?!” A five year old could write better, more compelling, interesting Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle fan fiction than whoever barfed up this mess to waste our time with. I am serious. A small child who has no life experience would be infinitely more inspiring than Michael Bay. He should have to go to jail for this, it definitely qualifies as murder.