Sunday, December 14, 2003

Remotely Controlled

I just finished taping The Bells of St. Mary's, a smooshy old classic movie, and thinking that everything ever said about Ingrid Bergman's beauty is so true. Especially when she's filmed in black and white, she simply glows. I'm going to have to dig Casablanca out and watch it yet again. I'm going to have to see more of her films. I so much prefer the standards of beauty that came before.

Having Miss S stay for the weekend is a real pleasure because she does dishes and cooks breakfast (French Toast! Who hoo!). The only real downside is that she likes to stay up REALLY late and thus sleep through the day. I prefer this schedule myself, but having a job that requires morning hours (and a husband as well) means that if I stay up late all weekend, on Monday I'm ... not at my best.

Then there's watching TV with Miss S. I admit, I spent a large part of Saturday lounging and flipping through old cartoons like Shazzan and The Herculoids and *gasp* Birdman and the Galaxy Trio. But Miss S tuned in the Anna Nicole Show because, as she said "No one does Bimbo like Anna".

Oh powers that be, in 45 minutes I discovered wells of hatred for this woman within myself. Hatred, disgust, and bewilderment.

Let me rephrase that. I hated watching her. I begrudged those 45 minutes even as I sat with Miss S and shared time making assorted acidic comments. Anna Nicole complains more about less than anyone I've ever been forced to experience. I know so few people who would gripe about staying in a FREE hotel room that was not only clean and quiet, but had unmelted chocolates on the pillow. In my socio-economic circle, this is known as a GOOD thing. And please, getting onions on your enchiladas is NOT the end of the world. Order something else, sheesh, but stop whining. Oh, and maybe the enchiladas isn't the best nutritional choice. I'm thinking about that horizontal cleavage displayed under her arms, honey. As one large woman to another -- dress your weight. Horizontal cleavage, like back cleavage, is unattractive. The shiny silver strapless sheath she wore to her "art opening" -- where groups of synchophants praised her paintings and slobbered on her celebrity with wine and cheese -- should be given to someone else. There are drag queens who would love that dress.

It's just me and my little middle class opinion, but cleavage should be vertical and should occur more or less naturally. Tits and ass, babe, keep it on the tits and ass. You've plenty of both, so you don't need to add any more.

It's going to take me some time and some heavy meditation to purge the memories, folks. I think Anna Nicole's whole purpose in life is to be dissed, stared at and commented upon by those of us who lost our battle to ignore her. I'd managed up to last night. Bless her and let her go, but please don't make me watch again.

However, I do see how she can be a role model for a budding drag queen.

No comments: