What November 4th-7th Means To Me: 10 Random Thoughts

Don't really have a ton to talk about since there isn't a whole lot going on...but some random thoughts from the weekend:

1) A Hat Really Makes A Difference. 

It was cold in LA this weekend.  Yep, at night it was like 50.  That's not cold?  To me, it's cold, so bite me.  Anyway, I channeled my inner George Costanza and wore a fairly sizable and insulated beanie.  And what a world of difference this made.  I actually stood outside at a birthday party on Saturday night and felt quite comfortable.  Well, eventually my feet started to go a tad numb, but baby steps.  Beanies > complaining.

2) Is That Jonah Hill or Just Someone Who Looks Like Jonah Hill? 

There's a commercial for Call Of Duty that features, what appears to be, a thin Jonah Hill.  Is this him or just someone who looks an awful lot like him?  I was sitting there on Sunday trying to decipher if I recongized his voice or not.  Then I just decided not to care, but apparently, suddenly I care again.  He's one of those actors that, to me, is much funnier fat.  In fact, it's disorienting watching him thin.  I need to see his 5th chin wobble while he delivers his lines for me to laugh. 

3) I actually got a snail mail letter this weekend...and it was a jigsaw puzzle. 

Literally.  I've never received one of these before, so I don't know if it's common or popular, but since I'm dense, it took me way too long to put together the puzzle which was the size of a postcard.  Now, the person who sent it loves to give me a hard time and I can imagine her laughing as she put the pieces into the envelope, but I must say I loved it.  It felt like a challenge, like I had to work for the correspondence.  If I ever send a snail mail personal letter again, I think I'll make it a jigsaw puzzle as well.  Perhaps a 5000 piece one though.  A nice bright spot to an otherwise dull Saturday.  ThanksK!

4) A Broncos Victory

It's amazing how elevated my mood gets when the Broncos win.  Thank you Tim, Willis, Eddie, Von, Champ and the others.  We can smile for another Sunday.  Joshie, if you're reading this, the thought of you being pissed off made it even more enjoyable for me.  It's been too long since we beat the Raiders.

5) How To Make It In America

HBO's "new Entourage" is now in it's second season and has officially reached "shows I could watch for 52 straight weeks, never get too emotionally invested in, but I enjoy it anyway, I suppose" status.  For those who don't know, it's about two 20-somethings who are on the verge of success in the fashion industry.  It does for New York what Entourage did for LA:  in case you forgot it has a sexy side, the show reintroduces you to it.  There's nothing all that special about it, but it makes me miss New York.  I suppose, in this respect, its a male Sex And The City. 

6) How Much Popcorn Can Brett Eat In A Weekend?

Alot.

7) I've now graduated to the Venti.

For years, I only ordered the tall.  Then, for a couple of years, I started ordering the grande.  Now, 8 times out of ten, I'm drinking the Venti.  I'm not sure where it goes from here.  Perhaps I'll just start bringing a bucket and ask them to charge me based on the weight.  I don't love the taste of coffee, but I find it to be one of the more comforting things in life.  It's my Linus blanket.  I wish I could drink it all day long. 

8)  I Must Always Look Like A Slob

I'm not sure why people always look surprised if I wear a sport coat, but it usually garners a "wow, Brett, you look dressed up!" comment even though I'm still wearing jeans.  I often wear t-shirts, but do wear a number of button downs, but they are probably wrinkled more often than not.  Either way, I take the compliments as backhanded.  But I can deal with dressing messy, I hope I just don't smell. 

9) I Think My Apartment Is Finally Clean After A Nordic Tornado Passed Through.

But whoever told me hardwood was difficult to keep clean was completely right.  Staying on top of the dust has been a chore and, everytime I think the floor is clean, I realize it's not.  But I suppose it's good enough for now and, I'm too tired to really care or stay on it 100 percent of the time.

10)  You guys buy my book yet? 

You should!  Reviews have been good, the public seems to be enjoying it, it's selling in bookstores now, and I'm just hoping it keeps growing.  Here's an amazon link though you can buy it at any online retailer.  Please support!  woo!

What November 3rd Means To Me: My Height

Here was an IM conversation between my friend and I from yesterday.  And this is typical:

Friend: 55
Me: What?
Friend: Oh, sorry, wrong IM
Me: Oh, I figured you were saying you were 55 lbs more than me.  Oh wait, that's way too low.
Friend: No, I've just had sex 55 more times than you.  Oh wait, that's way too low.
Me: haha ass
Friend: haha dickhead

Perhaps I'm just looking for an excuse to post our daily conversations, but for whatever reason, the above got me thinking about being taller, even though said friend is actually about three inches shorter than I am, rendering any comparative study between his getting laid and being tall completely moot.  But I've long wondered how my life would be different if I were 6'3.

That's right, me and Skee-lo have the same wish.  To be taller.  But I really don't want to make this post into an all out whine-fest about being short and, instead, want to pose a question regarding personal appearance and how others perceive you. 

A friend and I were having lunch the other day and she was complaining about how none of the men in her life are tall, and that she doesn't feel "protected" around them, as if we lived in a world where we are constantly in danger of attack.  But her sentiments are shared by many, as I often hear women claim they would like to date a taller guy, and if the girl happens to be tall, the thought of dating a shorter guy is often out of the question. And, of course, this thought reaches beyond the dating world, as many executives believe that being taller actually commands respect.  And, let's face it, it does.  I've lived in this world long enough to see that taller people are often treated as if they are more powerful simply because of their physical stature.  In fact, I'm sure I do it on a sub-conscious level too.  Actually, I know I do, and I'm short!

Whether justified or not, I do often believe I'm taken less seriously because of my height (5'8) and general smaller stature (I'm only 140 lbs, even though my body is similar to that of a super lightweight boxer).  I don't have any real evidence that suggests my stature hinders me when being considered by others, but I do get the feeling that I'm dismissed as "unprotective" or "non-sexual" because I don't have that traditional appearance that suggests power and authority.  I feel like I often have to talk my way into commanding respect instead of just getting it, hoping I can find other attributes to win over a person's affections (though this rarely works either, I must say...though this can probably be chalked up to my general indecisivness, lack of self-esteem, and fear of pissing people off.  Oh, pobrecito!  Things to work on!)

Though I cannot help my height and have no first hand experience to see if height would improve my career and dating record, I have noticed that I've been treated differently since I've gotten tattoos that show and buzzed my hair off.  I don't know what image it gives off (though one of my old bosses recently told me, on a day I forgot to shave, that I looked like I just stepped out of prison), but people do not try to verbally push me around as much as they used to. And, also, people who do not know me often engage in a more slang-y type of conversation that could be perceived as "street" or something that would suggest "youthfulness."  It's actually been an interesting sociological experiment, perhaps people assume I'm "tougher" because of the age old stereotypes that come along with tattoos and buzzed hair.  I have them all fooled.

So, honestly, how do others perceive taller people? Is it something you notice? Or perhaps I'm just looking for excuses as to why I never date anymore? :)  And, of course, my life could also be worse if I suddenly was 6'3 (beyond the fact I wouldn't have a wardrobe that fits), I just tend to doubt it.  I actually wish I spent more time thinking about this subject, and perhaps I'll write about it more another day.  But, until then, I'll just continue to wish that I was taller. 

What November 2nd Means To Me: Nothing!

Actually, I could wax poetically about past election days or something, but I'd rather not bore you with my feelings on the political process today.

Instead, I'll link you to a post I wrote for the very awesome travel blog worldwinder.com about a very eccentric tour guide I met in Prague.  A tour guide who reminded me a bit too much of Borat. 

Hope you enjoy!

http://www.worldwinder.com/2011/11/02/what-happens-when-the-tour-guide-is-more-interesting-than-the-actual-tour/

And now I'll go get some more shitty coffee that advertises itself as "the roast of the town" 

What November 1st Means To Me: Kim Kardashian and Divorce

I’ve taken interest in the Kardashian divorce because my friend recently subjected me to numerous episodes and, of course, the two-part wedding special that set new bars for both garishness and gaudiness.  Molly Lambert wrote a piece for Grantland about the Kardashian phenomenon that I mostly agree with.  She states, essentially, that the Kardashian brand is more important than Kim’s actual lifestyle and, due to her mother’s reign of terror over her daughters’ lives, that the actual marriage to Kris was a sham, and that the whole thing might have been predetermined.

I agree that the health of the Kardashian brand has trumped Kim’s own happiness, but I’m not sure Kim actually knows the difference.   Her rise to fame has definitely been fabricated.  Though I’m not sure what her life was like as a child, her mother was exposed to scant amounts of celebrity through her ex-husband who was a famous trial lawyer, and she clearly liked the taste.  While it’s hard to comment on the friendship between Kim and Paris Hilton (which is how Kim burst on the scene), one would have to think that someone with fame whoring tendencies spent time with someone like Paris for publicity purposes (even if the Kardashian brand wasn’t even a thought in her mind at the time.)  Point being, Kim likes attention.  Kim needs attention.  Kim ties her self-worth due to the amount of attention she gets. 

But what Kim doesn’t realize is that the caricature, sex symbol Kim Kardashian has just become…Kim Kardashian.  If this were a set-up, some ploy for E! ratings (and it would have worked simply as that), then there’s no doubt in my mind Kim and Kris would ride this out longer than 72 days.  After all, going through all the pains of dating, engagements, and wedding planning seems like more of a chore than pretending to stay together for the sake of publicity and milking your new Kardashian E! show about living in New York.   If the divorce was a publicity stunt, it’s a bad one because it plays directly into what most people thought anyway:  that the wedding was a sham and they’d be divorced in a year.  The fact that Kim divorced the “love of her life” in a mere 72 days solidifies her “love” as a joke and, therefore, her brand becomes less trustworthy.  While many laugh and point at Kim, there is a significant portion of her fan base that actually doesn’t, and this latest act has to damage her brand among these supporters who actually saw her as responsible and “human”.  And, believe me, Kris Kardashian, Jenner, whatever, the shrewd shrew she is, I’m sure is aware of this.  What would have shocked the masses and bucked the trend?  A happy marriage with kids.  If Kim was THAT conscious about her brand, she could have transitioned her career to the next stage: married/momma Kim. A Kim that promotes maternity clothing lines and parenting tips.  She could have used this to become a more “responsible” person in the public eye; this is something Madonna would have done had she been in Kim’s position.  It would have opened her up to an entire new audience that once thought she was a joke and simply a sex symbol.  But that didn’t happen. 

Which means only one thing: Kim actually thought it was for real, and that her life has actually become the fantasy that is portrayed on television.  She actually thought her “love” for an uninteresting, decent NBA player was something for the ages, which then opens up questions as to how deep her myopic vision of her own life is, and also what her deep seeded priorities actually are.  It appears someone like Kim (and seeing how she was raised, this is hardly a shock), is much more in love with herself than she is with anything else in this world, and this view has been validated by TV ratings and an audience that only sees her in edited snapshots that have become her reality.  She televised her wedding, not as a symbol of love to her husband (who is a replaceable part) and not as a conscious effort to promote the Kardashian brand for financial purposes.  It was just another snapshot of life to satisfy her own self-worth.  The seed was planted long ago and now it’s a fully functioning tree that bears forbidden fruit whether she knows it or not.  What this 72 day divorce shows is that she’s not the shrewd business woman everyone thought she might be.  She’s a lost soul that has been taught that notoriety, by any means necessary, equals value.  So, she will go on, fully expecting to always fall in the safety net otherwise known as fan support.  Except, one day, when she ages, her looks go, and the public finds another hot celebrity to become obsessed with, she will be left with nothing but these snapshots that she will no doubt try anything to re-acquire.  I hope, for her sake, she doesn’t become Norma Desmond, though if she does, I’m sure she wouldn’t even realize it. 

WHat October 29th-31st Mean To Me: Parking Tickets

No, I did not get one.  I was actually barely out all weekend due to a bad cold (seriously, after wishing for one during my Halloween post, it actually happened!  And this was hardly a "be careful what you wish for" kind of situation, I was not displeased).

But I did, however, witness a couple returning to their car only to find out that they had one.  I always find these situations humorous because their stupified reactions are always photo worthy.  The situation generally plays out as follows:

Couple returns to their car with the following facial reactions:

A parking ticket?  How could this be?  It's as if aliens landing on their front yard would be less surprising. 

Then they look to each other in complete befuddlement because, really, how on Earth could someone have given them a parking ticket?  Then, one of them (or both) studies the parking instructions sign and, of course, reads it aloud as if that should bring some sort of clarity.  And slowly I might add.  As if its a complex math equation.

Man:  No... Parking.... from... 6pm... to... 6am

Woman: No... Parking.... from... 6pm... to... 6am

Man:  What time is it?

Woman:  It's 6:30

Man: Well, Cripes.  Is that what it said two hours ago?

Woman: Well I'll be.

Man:  It's only been a half an hour!  They cut could us some slack.

Woman: (as if trying to decipher a secret code): No... Parking.... from... 6pm... to... 6am

Man: I guess we should just get it over with and kill ourselves. 

I suppose I find a person's entitlement humorous when it comes to traffic tickets or parking tickets.  Everyone always thinks they should be the exception, and that the world is out to get them because they were too lazy to read the instructions.  I just wonder what it says about us when our visceral reaction to such things is "I can't be wrong!  You're wrong!  And even if I am wrong, you should give me a pass this time...just because!"

It was a boring weekend, what can I say.  This was the one observation I had.  I could talk about the Broncos sucking, but then I'd just cry, and I really don't feel like it. 

What October 28th Means To Me: Beavis and Butthead and Getting Older

YESSSS YESSSSSSS!  Krokus rocks!

Nostalgia can be a wicked motivator.  That was the prevailing thought I had while watching the Beavis and Butthead reboot aired last night on MTV.  From the ages of 14-17, I fucking loved Beavis and Butthead.  I had seen all the episodes multiple times, in fact, my brother and I had every single one recorded on a few VHS tapes.  Beavis and Butthead was a unique show that captured something incredibly simple:  simplicity.  At the time of it's original release, the world was on the brink of complete complication.  The internet was taking hold of society, propelling it into a deep abyss of possibility and information that no one had the capacity to navigate.  We were suddenly on the precipice of this world that would not look anything like the one we had become accustomed to.  Generally when these sorts of things occur, generations take hold of cultural symbols to preserve identity.   One of ours was a show about two sexually stimulated slackers who loved to laugh and and break things. 

Beavis and Butthead, for me, aired right as my teenage years began and it, for many reasons, was the ultimate rebellion (not just for me, but for my generation and definitely the one directly above us.)  It was counter culture, it was something our parents didn't understand, and it could be inflammatory (literally...if you recall that case in Ohio (I think Ohio) where some mother blamed Beavis's pyromaniac tendencies for inspiring her son to burn down their trailer).  Here was this show that featured two slacker, unintelligent kids saying and doing a bunch of stupid shit.  It was simple.  It was hilarious.  It was awesome.  Older generations constantly look to younger ones to be "better" than they were, and it's not that our generation refused to learn or accept complexity, but our embracement of Beavis and Butthead was an ironic statement that showed that we can also appreciate the incredibly simple as well. 

Now, 15 or so years later, the show is back, Beavis and Butthead haven't aged a day, but the rest of us have.  To Mike Judge's credit, the spirit of the show hasn't really changed much.  And despite the homage of Beavis's "fire! fire! fire!" chants during videos (and the fact that they sometimes comment on MTV shows instead of music videos), the show feels relatively the same as it did in the 1990's.  But, unfortunately for the show, I believe those past 15 years are insurmountable for a few reasons.

Though getting older obviously involves body change and both emotional and mental maturity, it also features the accumulation of memory and the canonization of "good memories."  When we experience events or emotions in the present, we are hyper aware of every detail that comes along with them.  If we engage in something entertaining, we also are aware of the moments of boredom or negativity that fill in the cracks and gaps.  Obviously, our experiences in the present don't exist in a vacuum, so external forces that have zero to do with said experience affect the way we view or enjoy a piece of entertainment at the time of consumption.  But as years pass and much of the memory is lost, we start associating these experiences with the time periods in which they occurred, and view them through a much different prism that doesn't take into account every detail of the experience. Being a teenager is never fun for anyone when you're going through it.  Its the first time we are really confronted with social pressure and all the insecurities born from it.  Some of us deal with it better than others, but for the most part, its a time of transition.  But when I look back on it, it is obviously from a safe place because my teenage years and memories are etched in stone. I can't remember all the worry and insecurity, I just remember the things I enjoyed, even if they weren't so enjoyable at the time.  I have vivid memories of watching Beavis and Butthead at two in the morning on random weekends after a night out.  At the time, I'm sure I wasn't excited to watch them, I was probably bored out of my mind, couldn't sleep, and was more than likely worrying about something else.  But when I conjure the memory, I don't remember the negative, and I think it'd be fun to transport myself back in time so I could experience it again. It all seems so simple and innocent now.  That's nostalgia for you. 

And that's why watching the new Beavis and Butthead isn't and will never be a transcendent experience.  The episodes could be similar, hell, they could even be better, but no matter what they do, they will always be missing the essence of nostalgia that will push my generation to turn on the new episodes in the first place.  My best guess is that most people my age who watched it smiled a few times, shrugged their shoulders, and spent most of the broadcast remembering what it was like to be younger.  Because that's what aging does, it makes us hyperaware of our past and our future.  And the older we get, the more we compartmentalize thoughts of both.  So when a piece of entertainment comes out that is meant to stimulate a memory, the thought of the memory severely outweighs the value of the present entertainment.  And, unfortunately for the show creators, our interest in the updated product is short lived because we'd rather have it as a memory than as something new.  Who wants to ruin their past, after all?

So, while I suppose I enjoyed the Beavis and Butthead reboot, and was glad to see that they were still enjoying their teenage years at Highland High, I unfortunately am long past those years of my life, and will always enjoy Beavis and Butthead more as a relic of my past than as a new form of entertainment.

And I'm sure current younger generations will also reject Beavis and Butthead because kids are assholes and want their own thing (kidding, sort of :)

What October 26-27th Means To Me: Ugh. Halloween.

When you're ten, nothing is cooler than Halloween.  After all, you get to walk around the neighborhood and people willingly give you free candy.  You get to dress up in something silly, its festive, its one of those "all bets are off" holidays.  I remember my buddy Clinton and I used to spend all day and night out on the streets filling up our pillowcases full of candy, we knew exactly which houses would give out the full size candy bars and which would be more likely to give away peanuts, pennies, raisins or something incredibly lame like that (were these people never kids?). How about the people who just left the "take one" bowl?  Fuck those people. Those people suck. Aren't they aware it's Halloween? Are they too fucking lazy to answer the door for an excited kid?  Do they actually think people would take one?  We'd often just take the empty bowl because, after all, it did say "take one" on it.  My hometown was also a sleepy suburb that was basically as old as America.  There was something that felt right about Halloween taking place there.  Leaves were on the ground, it was strangely quiet, but also somewhat spooky. Most families respected the festive nature and dressed their houses in appropriate oranges and blacks.  It was rare to find a house without a jack-o-lantern on the doorstep.  In a word, it was "good."

I was that couch potato one year when I was seven or eight

The magic of Halloween doesn't really change when you're older.  It's still a time to dress up, but instead of walking around begging for candy, you attend some lavish party where all the girls dress as whores.  Sounds amazing, right?

Then why the fuck do I hate Halloween?

No, seriously, I've come to dread it.  If they made a pill that would put me to sleep for Halloween weekend, I'd take it every year.  Wanna know my favorite recent Halloween?  2009.  Why?  Because I was home in bed with the flu. Excuse not to go out=SOLID.  Listen, I like a party as much as the next guy, I mean, who doesn't love looking at a slutty toaster*? I don't mind going out, but there is something about holidays with social expectations that I cannot stand. (*By the way, every conversation with a girl about their Halloween costume goes something like this.  Brett:  "So, Rhonda, what are you being for Halloween?"  Rhonda: "A roll of tape!  Well, a slutty roll of tape (tee hee)" 

Perhaps I'm vain, maybe I care too much about what others think of me, but the idea of not going to a party on either Halloween or New Years makes me feel like a huge loser.  And I hate feeling that way because I'm fully aware I'd probably have a better time sitting home watching movies than going out all night in a costume I paid too much money for.  Also, like last year, I stupidly chose a costume that involved a sleeveless shirt, leaving me ice cold for both parties I decided to go to.  You know whats not fun?  Trying to find a cab in the Hollywood Hills when its about 50 degrees and I'm not wearing much.  Nipples=arrows. 

So, this year, I purposely did not buy a costume.  That's right, I'm skipping Halloween.  I'm gonna find something else to do.  Unless, well, someone invites me to a "cool" party, in which case I'm sure I'll create a quick makeshift costume, feel like less of a loser, check my phone until its time to go home, and proceed in self-hate for the entire evening. 

Sometimes social expectations just fucking blow.