Tuesday, June 07, 2005

Who needs bat-shaped throwing stars?

Pity, party of One
I'm sick, and totally feeling sorry for myself. What's worse, is I'm not just feeling sad because I'm sick and really don't want to be, but I'm feeling completely frustrated by the fact that it's been a really busy week at work. In other words, no sick day. Not only did I not get a sick day, I had to work really hard on Wednesday, when I was all snot-filled, oozy, woozy and high on DayQuil. Imagine my tears of frustration when I got home from work, LATE, exhausted and hungry, wishing desperately that I'd been able stay home, nurse my head cold and watch my Season Three Girlmore Girls DVDs all day.

I enjoy watching the Gilmore Girls, but I'm starting to suspect that it's really bad for my self esteem. The reason is that while I like to think I identify most with Lane, with our shared rock & roll history obsessions, the truth is I find myself unwillingly identifying with Rory. And often when I watch the show, I don't like Rory because I find her passive, unoriginal, and a weaker character than her friends and family think she is. A fraud, even. So when the over-identification occurs, the self-esteem plummets. Yes, it's irrational. Shut up.

Of course then I quickly get over it because, like Lane, I can find unending solace in the right musical selection. Today it's Nouvelle Vague, and a big thank you to Amanda for hooking me up. Moving on.)

Okay, so then yesterday, still sick, I had to dope the hell up on 3 different kinds of shit so I could fly to Vegas, do a client presentation, and fly back. Which was The SUCK, as both flights helped to build up so much pressure in my already congested head that I seriously thought I was going to have an aneurysm. I didn't, however, so today I'm back at work and blogging defiantly, because I still feel entitled to the Sick Day That Never Was.

I'm a Dork
I've actually been trying to figure out how to blog this little "I'm a dork" story, but it involves me going out of my way to sit near a cute guy on the plane, which I happen to think is perfectly innocent but, well. Tell me if you agree.

It's a Southwest, choose-your-own-seat kind of flight and there are two window seats left at the front of the plane. One is next to old fat guy, the other is next to cute college athlete (who looks like an old high school crush). What's a girl to do? Be a dork, take the window seat near the cute boy who may or may not be Samoan or Brazilian, be totally disappointed when the 50 year old mom-type woman takes the middle seat between you (stupid full flight), and spend the rest of the hour between Las Vegas and Burbank trying to find a way to insert yourself into their conversation, even though it's totally boring and about him going to college in Utah and playing sports or whatever. And then, after landing, realize that you are a dork for wanting to sit next to Cute College Guy in the first place, as he says his super sweet goodbye to the woman and tries to recruit her by giving her a freaking Book of Mormon as a gift.

Which, by the way, is totally uncanny because not only did he look like that cute Shane Magalei from high school (Samoan, total Renaissance dude, sweetheart), but they both went to BYU. Are the Mormons, like, actively recruiting super-cute, super-tall, exotic-looking athletes? Because, if so, it's not a bad strategy. These guys could convert a bunch of cute little wives that way. Each.

I'm Also a Geek
That's right, I love comic books. I do! When I was little I used to read all of my brother's Star Wars and Indiana Jones comics and as an adult, I still read all my husband's DC and Marvel comics. Granted, I'm not so obsessed that I can name all 6 Green Lanterns or whatever and for the love of GOD do not correct me because I don't care. But I do enjoy the stories behind comic book heroes. In fact the more backstory the better. Unlike my friend Alf, I prefer the Marvel universe to the DC, because the heroes use their pain to become better people/crime fighters. (He, on the other hand, doesn't like his super heroes to have "issues." Although, looking at some of the DC outfits, I'd argue they do whether they've been explained or not. Red panties OVER the blue tights? I'm just saying.) That said, there's one DC character I love: Batman.

So dark, so mysterious, and seriously? A bat? Why a bat? Catwoman, I get--cats are slinky, mischievous, playful and viscous. Bats, on the other hand, are flying rodents who get in your attic and have to be chased out with a tennis racket.

I have other questions about Batman. Like (to quote The Joker) where does he get those wonderful toys? Think about it. There's Bruce Wayne with his bazillions of dollars, ordering all of his crime-fighting shit from wherever. How exactly does that conversation go?

Bruce: "I'm going to need 200 grappling hooks, 4 boxes of smoke bombs, a flat of bullet-proof car armor (black), and 6 cases of bat-shaped ninja throwing stars."
Supplier: "Not a problem Mr. Wayne. If you don't mind my asking, though, what's all this for?"
Bruce: "Nothing! Nothing at all! Just a hobby!"

Well, my friends, if you have ever cooked your noodle wondering the same thing, do yourself a favor and go see Batman Begins. If not for the imaginative back-story, killer sets or the understated Gary Oldman performance, then go for Christian Bale. Because seriously, who needs bat-shaped throwing stars when your cheekbones can cut glass?

Jones? JONES?
Finally, I have to tell you about the best celebrity sighting EVER. I have been dining out on this story for weeks ever since I heard it. I just discovered today that I got it ALL WRONG. To get the full scoop, here's what you do:
1. Read the story told by the person who actually had the sighting, Amanda, in her blog entry entitled "Surrender Dorothy."
2. Come back here, and discover that I thought she was actually talking about this guy.


Los Angellistair said...

Dude you need to take Kate under your wing and get her to like comic books and explodey movies. Kate's all like, "Why the hell do you have three seasons of Transformers in your Netflix cue?" I love her but if she can't appreciate the noise an animated robot makes when he turns into a jet plane trouble is on the horizon.

Dinah said...

You got it toots. We'll go for a gradual change, and transform her like a semi-truck/robot fighter. And if you're lucky, she'll make cool sounds too. (If she does, however, I don't want to know about it.)

Alf said...

Um...technically, there ar more green lanterns than six.

You have to remember that the green L:antern Corps (Founded on the Planet OA) are the guardians in the universe, there are officially 36,000 different charcters bearing the gren lantern title. If of course, you meant Green lantern of earth, then Alan Scott, Hal Jordan, John Stewart, Hal Jordan Again, Guy Gardner, Hal Jordan again, then Kyle rayner, and now, Hal Jordan Again. not that i care you see...Just mentioning.

Alf said...

Me write pretty

Dinah said...

Yeah, see, here's the thing--I STILL DON'T CARE. (Alternative response went like this: "Jon Stewart was the Green Lantern??")

Anonymous said...

It's funny, i was sitting her in las vegas and i was googling people i knew and had put in Shane Magalei's name and this site came up. I went to Wheat Ridge High in CO and was friends with Shane. Haven't talked to him a forever. Just thought i would through in my two cents. thats all. thanks.

Anonymous said...

Ahh, Shane Magalei. Yeah, I thought he was a great guy... Until I learned that he screwed me out of $80k and worse yet, he screwed many many out of money with his mortgage business, which was a mortgage sham to screw people. He is a selfish, self-serving, fraudulent, lying, manipulative, evil piece of worthless, gluttonous greedy flesh that is not worth the air he breathes.
Rot in jail you piece of scum. Never do business with a Mormon, unless you are Mormon, in which case you've already been conned.

Nice blog, I have nothing bad to say about you but ran across this when google'ing for Shane's name looking for info on his arrest. He truly does not care about anybody else except himself. What a loser.

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