Communal news

The first official trailer is up on our amazing editor Todd Miro's website...check it out! Will be on Youtube today or tomorrow, so wait to link to it/pass it on/add it to Myspace til then.

UPDATE: here's youtube: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8LOlI0-ZkDk

Come by our shindig tonight...we have two hundred people coming! It's going to be like a wedding...with Cirque de Soleil performers! Only my dress costs more and is racktacular. :) Actually, come to think of it, this really is my wedding reception! Whoo-hoo! Thank god I'm an artist instead of a regular girl.

An even better reason to come tomorrow than staring at my boobs is we're premiering three scenes from the film...and they're spectacular! Man, I could pinch myself, The Commune is turning out so well. You don't even know the half of it.

Worrying about gifts for your Hims?

Okay, it's time for another round of Evolutionary Psychology wisdom, brought to you by our monkey ancestors.

If you are a woman who is casually dating (and it better be several men and not one!) or has just made a commitment to one man, put the credit cards and the pen down.

You heard me. I know you, sister. I know the deepest, dankest secrets in your head. I know you're racking your brain thinking about what you can GIVE to him or SAY to him that will fill his life with beauty and ease his worries. Because biologically, that is woman's mission.

The problem is...he ain't your guy. So don't treat him like he is. You're doing a disservice to him. You're emasculating him, taking away HIS mission...to hunt and provide.

You're also devaluing yourself into a cheap, easy to obtain item. I know, not that you care about that, because it's all about pleasing HIM, you empathetic, caring, put-other-people-first lady.

Knock it off.

No gifts. Not this year.

Maybe have something generic on hand that costs under five dollars in case he gives you something SPECTACULAR and specific to you. That's it. And no special cards or emails. And don't sign it "Love", or put more than half a sentence.

Feel like a bitch? Good! How many times have you given too much and poured out your soul, then been shocked when he chose a woman who treats him like dirt over you? Exactly. He WANTS to hunt and earn. He doesn't value anything easy. He doesn't value you giving to him.

If you really truly are giving for the right reasons, then give him what he WANTS, not what YOU think he NEEDS* because giving makes you feel good.

Seriously. This IS your holiday gift to him. Be a cool woman in control of your biology. Let him be a man.**


* I live by this so seriously, I gave Dave my high-end cologne samples last night. Because I don't want them on hand, tempting me to give one of my guys a gift that could only be read as a "fixer". It's a win-win. I didn't emasculate any guys I could care about someday, and my friend smells delicous...I get to smell him all tomorrow night at the auction!

** This isn't game-playing. Learning to have boundaries and be self-actualized to improve the lives of everyone around you is gods' work. Being selfish is living by your primate chemical drives, and making the same mistakes over and over because it "feels right". Nothing is more detrimental to your life's happiness than living by your monkey feelings.

Anyone want to go?

I need a vacation!

CruiseDeals.com has slashed the price of a Mexico cruise from Los Angeles to $199 per person. You must book by Dec. 17.

This special includes:
- 4 nights on the Carnival Paradise
- Roundtrip cruise from L.A. to Catalina Island and Ensenada
- Departures on Jan. 28, Feb. 4 or Feb. 25
- Upgrade to a 4A cabin (side-by-side beds, not bunk beds)

The Carnival Paradise includes a full-service spa, fitness center, and 7 restaurants.

Love is in the air

Have you noticed?

I was standing in line at Marshall's last night clutching the last of my Christmas shopping, watching all the love float around. Dads with their kids, friends bumping into each other, couples looking adoringly at each other. It's beautiful. Look for it. You'll see it. Everyone's so soft and open right now. Well, the healthy everyones. But they're in the majority, because it's all I see. And I live in LA.

There are many stories from the set I've withheld to protect the guilty, or because I haven't gotten around to it. Here's one.

We shot the majority of the film on a mini Commune/spiritual retreat center with an Egyptian theme. Which led to many misunderstandings, freakouts, and giggles from my early 20s male crew. Six of whom had to sleep in the attic of the Nesu house, the main production quarters (it was pretty awesome. Like college.).

So each room had an Egyptian theme or Goddess governing over the room. Against my judgement, I ended up with my own, which truthfully probably saved the production. And around the second night, my producer and script supervisor, the only other women, looked around my room and freaked out when they realized it was the teammate/love/soulmate room. I was surrounded by powerful, awesome couple images. If you know your feng shui like they did, they were convinced I wasn't getting out of fall without a boyfriend. They were concerned I was going to magnetize one onset.

That was the beginning of the beginning...realizing this powerful couple manifestation is just around the corner. Almost in my lap. Yea! Can't wait to be smiling and getting my hair stroked while standing in line at Marshall's.

Ha ha ha ha

Okay, someone found Kidsisland by googling "god damn miss you a bad mother fucker".

Yes. I am number one. Out of 73,500.

Effing rad.

Also of high amusant is the number of people googling Atonement's wonderful "Kiss you sweet wet c*nt" loveletter. Click my link to get it right. It's high brow literature, people. Deserves to be correctly quoted to your woman.

Man

I've been doing some online dating sites, and man it's frustrating...I'm talking with these great guys, but me not wanting to have kids is often a dealbreaker! Urgh! Yet another reason to mourn Captain Awesome.

I just can't honestly say I want to have kids in the the next five years. I want to fall in love and spend time with my guy and make movies. THAT'S my priority. Bringing kids into the mix, if you look at the statistics, kills the satisfaction in the marriage until they leave for college. And my interest is in the relationship being happy, fun, fulfilling, uplifting for both of us, making us both better people...and maybe after years of us loving each other and having a freaking blast, we can talk about the possibility of totally screwing it up by bringing another being into the mix.

See, the problem with all the marriage proposals I've gotten is the guys wanted to immediately inseminate me and stick me behind a white picket fence in the suburbs. But I'm a wild thing! I want to create and run free with my guy! I still want monogamy and love and passion, but I'm an artist. I would die in the suburbs and the PTA.

Blarg! There has to be another guy out there I have great chemistry with who wants to travel the world and save it, and make movies with me along the way. Someone who wants a loving loyal feisty sensual firecracker. Yeah. He's there. I can feel it. Pitt/Jolie without the munchkins.

Okay, keep an eye out for him. Here's what I'm manifesting:

To share my life with a partner. I want to meet that person I'll love for a lifetime. I'm looking to travel, work, play, and stay in bed for years with my guy.

What I'm looking for?

Top three? Social, happy, sweet.

Monogamous. Has chemistry with me. He's actively pursuing some avocation he loves - even if not making money at it yet. Supportive. We spur each other on in our respective creative ventures. Kind. Proximity, at least part of the year. Fun and quick to laugh. Genuine. Not hung up on materialism, popularity, surface. Strong and secure. Turned on by a dame with brains. Feminist. A foodie. Practices the golden rule. Romantic and gentle in bed. Always kissing me, and likes to hold hands. Wants to leave the world a better place. Not sure he wants kids. Loves to travel. Wants to be inspired to be a better man. Cherishes me. Is open and authentic with me. Believes in himself and gets pleasure from being a good man.

Dealbreakers? Smoker. Drugs. Alcoholism. In debt and not working on it. Doesn't want me as much as I want him. Discourtesy. Doesn't get along with my friends. Bad sex, or not enough good sex. Predictability.

If you're in LA...Come meet me!

Or, you know, hang out if we already know each other. :) I'm wearing THAT dress. The "racktacular" one, as Ryan blurbed.

Lots of exciting items have been added to our silent auction list including a Dreamworks package, extensions by a hairstylist to the stars, energy healing sessions, framed movie posters, and more! Hope to see you there!

You’re invited to a very unique holiday event!



A Commune Festivus
Our independent film is in the can!

Come help us raise a toast and raise our finishing funds!

Wednesday
December 12th
7-10 pm

At absolution: 8535 Santa Monica Blvd at La Cienega

RSVPs appreciated: info@thecommunemovie.com or 303-859-0106
Entertainment Includes:

Aerial Performance by:

TROUPE - Theatrical Circus EntertainmentFeaturing members of Cirque Du Soleil and absolution Aerial Instructors TROUPE will inspire awe as they fly gracefully through the air. The more you see the less you’ll believe. http://www.absolutionla.com/html/aerialarts.html
www.troupesite.com

Acoustic Performances by:

Velvet Ratio
Andrew Scott’s playing is both agile and heartfelt. Inspired by David Bowie, Jeff Beck, Jeff Tweedy…and Kraftwerk. His music is an interesting mix of genres and styles that delights.
www.myspace.com/velvetratio

Jenn Oberle
Jenn Oberle is breaking into the L.A. music scene with over 15 years of experience performing, writing and recording from the east coast. The Brooklyn-born bassist and vocalist is known for her music’s honesty and spirit and her impressive blend of musical styles.
www.jenniferoberle.com
www.myspace.com/jennoberle

Vlad
This multiple Grammy-nominated artist’s music can be heard all over the world and in the upcoming Antoine Fuqua Southern period film. Vlad started as a rock star at 18 in his native Ukraine touring with Iron Maiden. He later became an internationally acclaimed new age and jazz guitarist working with greats like Tony Bennett. His next album of classic slide guitar blues is due out in 2008.
www.vladosphere.com
www.myspace.com/vladosphere


Silent auction items include:

We are honored to feature paintings by
Annie Wharton
$5,000 values
In important private collections all over the world, Annie’s work has been featured in the New York Times, Art in America, Glamour among others. In addition to a wide array of international art fairs, gallery and alternative spaces throughout the US, Israel, Japan and Europe, she's shown her work in group shows at museums such as the Museum of Contemporary Art in Washington, DC, the Ringling Museum of Sarasota, and in Miami at the Lowe Museum the Bass Museum, and the Museum of Contemporary Art and in solo museum exhibits at the Kirishima Open Air Museum in Kirishima, Japan and The Wolfsonian-FIU Museum.
www.anniewharton.com

Jam Session with Guitar Legend Danny B. Harvey
Priceless
Playing since before he could walk, Danny is a legend among musicians. He’s toured with everyone from Brian Setzer to Motorhead and currently plays in diverse bands such as The Head Cat (with Motorhead’s Lemmy) The Lonesome Spurs with Lynda Kay, known as the White Stripes of country, and with French chanteuse Penelope Fortier currently viewable in her MasterCard “My Favorite Things” commercial. Danny will hang out for a one-hour jam session. Sure to be a fun time and a unique experience for any guitar enthusiast.
www.myspace.com/dannybharvey

Interior Design Consultation by Inspired Living
$333 value
Inspired Living’s office space of Sunset Orange (Silverlake) combines bold fabrics and clean lines of retro inspired Americana. Their celebrity client list belies their design-for-normal-people affordability. Founder John Patterson will come to your home for a full make-over consultation.
www.inspiredlivinginteriors.com

Jewelry from Adriana Designs
$150-$250 values
After an extensive career in industrial and interior design, artist Adrian Lee looked to her inspiration from her travels to many world cultures. All her pieces are created of genuine hand-picked semi-precious stones in bold colors, sterling silver and Swarovski crystals. Each piece is bold, unique and sure to catch eyes.
www.adrianlee.com/designs

Pilates training package by Heather Lake
$210 value
Trained and certified through absolution workout complex’s Pilates Method Alliance teacher training program (rated the best in LA) Heather brings her sunshine personality to a workout that’s precise yet fun. She will align and reshape your body in a relaxed and positive environment. Three intro sessions at Absolution or at Heather’s private studio.
www.absolutionla.com

And more!

So...tense much?

Just realized I haven't had a vacation since running around a music festival in the desert with Heidi last April. Didn't have a birthday party, either. What a strange year.

I know, a lot of people feel that the life of a writer is a full-time vacation. This coming from the people who take prescriptions to NOT feel their feelings and be in their heads all day long and think about how effed up life is and why we do what we do.

Trust me, being a writer may not be full-time work in the coal-mining sense, but it is full-time anxiety. The hair-greying kind.

Last night I actually had a dream that I visited a sex shop and asked how much to have an expert go down on me. And I was stoked it was only a dollar a minute and that the lady said he was clean, so I said sure! Twenty minutes! And had the nice S & M counter lady lead me back to this creepy weird dentist type room in black leather. It did look sterile. Then I realized I had five dollars in the bank account.* So I had to sneak out, and accidentally stole some sex toy that I guess I'd slipped in my pocket. So I returned home to my house, which was also...above a sex shop.

...

?

Perhaps I need to find some free way to show a little love and appreciation to myself. Maybe a spa night. Or let that gorgeous 20-year-old at Blockbuster who worships me take me to a movie. I don't know. Something's gotta give.


*True. That's why I'm selling my pearls and baby grand piano and PD150 and Super 8 Bolex, and probably my Avengers John Byrne comic art (!). The one I cried about three years in a row at Comic-con, then finally broke down and bought last June. Contact me if you want it. It should go to a good smokefree home.

Meh

"Friday, Deal's all new. We're bringing you "summer" in December...and you know what that means! Yeah! Deal or No Deal models...in bikinis! And there's a game that goes all the way down to the final case! Plus, bikinis! Next all new Deal or No Deal, Friday 8/7 central on NBC!"

Study follow up

More results from the Great Dress Experiment:

1. Last Saturday from a woman, another "beautiful" and a "you look like Annette Bening. I can't believe you've never heard that before." She was so adament, I'm tempted to add Miss B to the Cylon #11 list. Though usually I wait to hear a comparison at least 4 times...In truth, I know I don't look anything like the queen of Hollywood. But it was totally the dress and perfume that earned the compliment, and I'll take it since AB should have been Catwoman, but dropped out of Returns because she freaking married Warren Beatty and was pregnant with the player's child. Any woman that powerful and insouciant, go right ahead and tell me everyday I'm like her...Love it. A true Catwoman.

2. Yesterday, shit you not, nanny in an elevator: "Bonita, so beautiful, when is the baby due?"

...!

Okay, I'm going to chalk that up to my blisfully happy glow, since I'm down yet another half size.

Sadly, the remark caused Knocked Up to flash before my eyes...


Yeaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh....sooooooo.....yeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah.

The collective scream heard round the blogiverse.

Wow. Ladies, suicide or gouging your eyes out is always an option. Can't vote that away. Also, tossing yourself out a five story window could do the trick.

(Yes, I'm one of the MILLIONS of women* who think Apatow's "comedy" was more frightening and misogynistic than the Saw and Hostel franchises combined... I'd eff Screech's dildo on Pay Per View before I'll sit through another Apatow film starring Seth Rogen or any other ugly obnoxious unfunny mean unaccomplished dumb dude I'm supposed to be convinced can give shiksa goddess Katherine Heigl multiple orgasms (in the missionary position with chunky sweaty Seth?) and make her feel bad about her supermodel body while he eats pizza and is an unappreciative ahole. He's the Woody Allen 2000 model; instead of making Annie Hall laugh/happy, he makes jokes about her to his loser stoner friends and she grimaces and bears it cuz it's better than being alone. Efff you, Hollywood.)

3. Lady worker stepping off the elevator today all smiley, "Hi! Oh my, look at you! Excuse me, ma'am."

In general, the men are still aproaching with small talk more, holding doors, radiating respect, generously offering unsolicited help with much vigor and apologizing if their showing off/providing doesn't create results. Actually, they're adorable. Is there anyone more lovable than a man who drops everything to provide happiness for a woman?

Shawna, you gotta get in on this experiment. Let's go shopping!

EDITOR'S NOTE: What a poorly written / spelled post. Sigh. Sometimes I don't have the strength to open a new window for websters.com AGAIN.

* And Eric.

Somehow I missed it

For Evel Knievel, the dreamers of the 70s who watched him fly, the lung illness sufferers, the Hollywood sellouts Thom wrote this about (himself included), and the projectors who think it's about an unappreciative boy who's lost a good woman forever (really, aren't ALL songs about that? Show appreciation, guys, before she's gone forever...Women respond to being ignored/neglected by finding someone else):


The best thing you ever had has gone away

Jim Carrey it

Having money issues? Hollywood is filled with this low energy, blah, recession depression. Lots of people struggling to make ends meet, worrying, anxious...a real creativity killer.

So here's a free manifester tool to focus on the positive again!

Prosperity Check

You can make it for any amount, and even put what it's for.

Hail to the Queen, baby

Ahhhh! Well, here's one of the coolest, sweetest things anyone could say about me. And coming from the Scibosphere's amazing Shawna Benson, one ending to a writer's strike away from being a Bone Fide Big Hollywood Deal! Seriously, I can't talk about the deal, but she's hot people! Keep reading her so you can say you knew her when, in just a few short months...

Attention lurkers

"There is more hunger for love and appreciation in this world than for bread." -Mother Teresa

So stop being stingy! Yeesh.

Creative Screenwriting Expo - awards and afterparty

The Awards Ceremony

Ryan Harris and Brian Lubocki

Me and Heidi Hornbacher

Ryan and Shawna Benson

It's time

It's been too long my friend, been too long.







To my female readers, and 10% of the males:

You're welcome.

Bad medicine

My favorite part of rehashing the past in that Throw Up post is that now I get to go through all the fun rejection emotions AGAIN.

Seriously, god? I mean, WTF? How is this doing anyone on the planet any good, making me a non-functioning mess? I'm supposed to be the super hero, and I'm crying because no one loves me? Wonder Woman doesn't cry about that. Or Catwoman.

Scarlet Witch does, but she's a pussy. And the most powerful being in the Marvel Universe, so she just waves her arm and kills the men who reject her love.

*Grin* Feeling better.

Replaced rejection with good-old-fashioned guilt for momentarily wishing revenge and regret and loneliness on a loved one. I'm comfortable in guilt. Jewish genetics and Catholic gradeschool trained me well.

Maybe I can get dressed now.

For the love of Benji

Cover your mouth when you cough in public, people.

The baby Jesus cries everytime you don't.

Throw up

Pretty much none of you should read this. Especially anyone related to me. Nothing about this post is good or right or should be public.


I've had this memory weighing on my mind for weeks now, and I just feel like I have to GET IT OUT. No clue why. Quite sure it's too personal to talk about and makes me way too vulnerable and may hurt other people in my life. But I'm ruminating on it, and I've got to stop the cycle before I go mad.

I had this Before Sunrise experience months ago, and it was the impetus for this huge growth journey I've been on; studying men and dating, stepping out of my comfort range, admitting that keeping my dating experience low until I meet my man is a failing strategy.

In many ways, it caused The Commune to happen. If I hadn't been so out of my mind with pain and failure at effing up a good thing because I didn't have the right dating technology, I wouldn't have pushed myself into making the movie NOW, and I wouldn't have had the incredibly loving relationship between the two leads right, or a break-up scene I lifted word for word that had all the women and some of the men on the set crying.

Ha. Funny enough, I wouldn't have had The Elevator Scene, which my crew found so far-fetched.

So...before I get to the memory, let me just say publicly, anonymously, as if I was burning a letter in the fire:

Thank you. Thank you for seeing me. I needed someone brave and strong to see me, and to claim me, and to wrap me in his arms with enough stength that I believed everything would be okay. I appreciate all you did for me, the way you treated me like your queen; from pulling out my chair, to dressing up for me in your sharp shoes and natty clothes, to thinking about what would please me, to looking into my eyes all night with your beautiful wise sparkly soul, to listening to me on the edge of your seat for four hours at that French restaurant with singular focus (and two hours at the rooftop bar before!), to sharing your dreams and purpose with me and envisioning a better world because of your impact.

You were my hero from the moment I stepped into that elevator. I don't think my eyes could have left your calmness and confidence and respect if they'd tried. You wouldn't have allowed me to run away from us.

I needed to believe in love again and to be rescued from my numbness and pain; you were strong enough to save me from myself. I respect your depth of character, who you are in this world, your authenticity, opinions, choices. The possibility of love you showed me...I will strive for and have some day every day with my husband. I honor the sacred, the sublime, the delightful space that the two of us created in synergy, and that you were generous enough to name outloud with your beautiful words. And I will trust that men can be overflowing with tenderness and love and emotion and kindness and lips that never leave my body all night if I can just be brave enough to receive them and let them be men.

I apologize for my uncommunicated expectations and hopes and dreams, and accept you for who you are and the time we had together.

Thank you for making me a better woman. Goodbye my love. You've changed my life and made me happy. You mattered.


BACKSTORY

Leaving the French restaurant, giddy from your intellect and the smell of you and the way you look at me and your towering heighth that makes me feel so feminine and protected. The uncanny resemblence to Mr. Tumnus and the unshakeable knowledge that mom has sent you to me. I wonder how much younger you are. Probably thirty? We never got to the usual chit chat; our conversation so much deeper. Raw.

Walking down the street to your car, feeling you beside me wanting to hold my hand, uncharacteristically unsure. At last you reach out and brush my fingers, then confidently hold my hand in yours. I feel your energy shoot up my arm, and I feel safe with you. I'd let you lead me anywhere. But you steer me to the passenger door of your adorable twenty-five-year-old environmentally friendly Honda, take my face gently in yours and give me the longest, lightest, best kiss of my life like we have all the time in the world. Wrap me in your arms and whisper-moan against my lips with such sincerity and hope and need the concrete drops out from under me..."Come home with me."

Yes.

And you took me home, and welcomed me into your artistic kingdom. Don't know how we got there or how you drove, your lips and eyes on mine like a magnet, open-mouthed and hungry with just a teasing hint of tongue, my legs pretzled around yours, already writhing for you. The gear shift a constant annoyance. My hand on your Stag King belt buckle (another Fishie from Mom). It's alright. It's safe to let you love me.

Exhausted, tangled in your manly plaid sheets, the full moon beating down on us through the open window. Dawn encroaching on our time together. I've dozed off somehow at some point, don't know when you stopped kissing my body. Never had a man never stop pleasing me, but you came ferociously then encirlced me again with your hands and your lips within seconds, my pleasure seamless until you join me again, collapsing into me, resting momentarily until your amazing fingers find me again, my screams and sobs against your chest muffled, uncontrollable. Your supreme pleasure in pleasuring me the biggest gift to my wounded psyche, infusing me with confidence long dormant.

The Memory

Somehow I've slept soundly, fearlessly with you, this stranger/soulmate. I'm laying on my default left side, my arms curved slighlty above my head as they do when I'm happy.

But there you are, movie-star-handsome head resting on my arm like a pillow, soul patch grazing the delicate inside skin. Peaceful. Trusting. Vulnerable. Present. You've stirred, embarrassed you relaxed enough to drool on me. Unseen, I watch you, my heart fluttering with the wings of thousand birds, a tear trapped in the corner of my eye. You're trying to clean my arm without waking me, touching me tenderly with the same respect and awe and worshipful long strokes used to clean your cum from my stomach and breasts an hour earlier.

Your kind, endless eyes meet mine and I smile into them: It's okay my love. Lay in my arms a while longer and let go. You are safe.

R eturn to the Planet of the Confused

Well, f*cknuts. So my whole hypothesis in the post below is wrong. Wrong wrong.

I looked like ass today. Sweat pants, ratty ponytail, ugg boots. Haven't looked this lousy since the shoot. And two men in the supermarket were still as attentive and smiley, all full of manly providing as when I was in a dress. Maybe it's the perfume?

Rats. How am I supposed to effect change and make the people around me happy if I can't figure out what the hell is producing the result?

And it's not that I'm happier...I mean, I am. But I wasn't today. Today I'm tired and overwhelmed. I feel this emotional tightness in my chest that's just ugh.

What would make me really happy would be to lay my head in a man's lap and have him pet my hair while we watched something with big vistas. Lean, or Minghella. Or...I'm in the mood for Star Wars. Sigh. That would feel like bliss.

I enjoy being a girl

Remember my "Just to Make Them Happy" post? Well, my Great Dress Experiment of November 2007 has been a rousing success.

Didn't wear a pair of pants all month and never went anywhere without perfume. I'm going to stick with it. Though, still 3/4 of the time my hair was in a messy bun and I had cute flat shoes and no makeup on...give me a break, gotta ease into this "lady" thing slowly...don't want my system to go into shock. Frankly, it already feels like a cellular shift.

The results were shocking.

Though I've been called "cute" all my life, "gorgeous" was reserved for the formal wear nights or shoot days with professional makeup and hair.

I've never been a "beautiful" woman. And I say that with authority because rarely had I been called that. I think the best it got was when Moriarty at Aint it Cool.com called me "Spectacularly Cute". That was the highlight of my physical compliments (I'm ignoring references to body parts themselves, clearly, because overhearing "Yowza look at that ass" isn't something that makes my chest warm with pleasure).



But all that changed in November, the month of dresses. I was referred to as beautiful, often by total strangers, an average of five times a week.

Come on. That's shocking.

Even more shocking? The preferential treatment I received. Men stumbling to open doors for me. Excusing themselves when they bumped into me. Double-taking in a non-salacious way. Unsolicited offers of help. A higher caliber of men asking me out. Salesladies giving me things for free. Strangers smiling at me and catching my eye even more than normal. Shocking. Absolutely shocking.

I can't believe I could have this positive of an effect on the world around me just by throwing on a silly dress. I mean, it's technically easier to wear than jeans, there's less to wash, and there's no bothersome thinking about matching. It's the simplest thing in the world, and it's so much more beautiful and chic.

So there you have it. A butterfly flaps its wings and causes a tsunami.

Oh, and I've become obsessed with perfume. Julie, the lovely Nordstrom specialist, sent me a two-page handwritten note at home because she said she's never had so much fun with a client, never had someone ask to be taught to be a connoisseur, and that she'd NEVER had someone walk into the LA store and say "I don't need what's popular, I need what's beautiful."

No more worrying about materialism or narcissism. I don't have to prove I'm a good woman by ignoring my outsides and hoping people will see my hard-earned, glowy soul. Eff that. I'm going to pamper myself and be a queen full time.

Can't wait to see what happens when I master heels, makeup and hair every day. I might just stumble on George Clooney. I'll keep you posted.

Premeditated

All I want to do is go into my room, light a candle, put on some music and lotion, curl up with Jay to relax a little and fall asleep. Sublime.

But can I? No. Because my asshole neighbor is chainsmoking again, , filling my bedroom and hallway, relegating me to the tiny part of my living room where I don't smell the noxious cancer particles.

AAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
GGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCC
CCCCCCCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


Sooooooo angry. It's so unfair. I don't want to die of cancer, I don't want to have this headache, I don't want to be paying $2500 a month to live in a place where I'm trapped all day long with your SECOND HAND SMOKE, YOU SELFISH FUCKING DESERVE TO DIE ENTITLED ASSHOLEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Where is my hammer, I am coming down there!!!!




I really think with the right lawyer, I'll get manslaughter and 8 to 10. Large Marge the Warden may even let me keep blogging if I get good at giving head.

God, if I'm getting 8 to 10, I might as well make it 15 and kill that fucking newborn next door, too. All women love babies my ass.

30 Rock

You should all be watching it. Seriously funny stuff.

And lucky you, here's this week's full-length episode for free! Enjoy the glorious genius that is Cougars.

Jump the Shark transcribed some of the best lines, though really by that standard you should just watch the whole show. Here's a few, and more in my Comments section.

Jenna: (seeing the young, hot Jamie) Ooh, who ordered the veal?

Liz: Give it up Jenna; you're talking to an ultrasound. Jamie: Now I'm getting attitude from the sexy librarian over there. Liz: Sexy? You're sexy. Shut up!

Jenna to Liz: We're cougars: Hot older ladies that pounce on their younger prey. There was a whole article on it in Vanity Fair— the one with the crisis in Africa on the cover. God, it makes me so sad that more people don't know about cougars.

Liz: Wow, we just went from a senior dating a freshman to Mary Kay Laturno and Billy Palau. Jamie: Are those friends of yours? Liz: (as Jack shows up) Oh when will death come.

Beauty secrets

Here's what I'm glowing from, so the ladies know what to ask for and the blokes know what to buy. Seriously, I feeeeeeel soooooo gooooooooooooooooood...

Seacret
The Manicure set is spectacular. But even more startling? I've used the facial mud bar, eye cream, and face serum for a week...and my hand to Thor, my skin wasn't this amazing when I was twenty. And I'm allergic to everything, so consider it safe for sensitive skin. Don't buy it at the mall; you'll get ripped off. Order online.

Perfume by Thierry Mugler

Holy moly. Sorry kids, you haven't lived until you've made love with this perfume on you or the woman you're in. Nothing on earth smells like it. This is the reknowned French parfumer chosen to do the movie tie-in for Tykwar's brilliant Perfume: The Story of a Murderer, which if you've seen it...you'll be in the car right now on your way to the finest department store to buy Mugler. Ecstasy in a bottle. Unfortunately, the movie tie-in is 550 Euros and available only at Herrod's. Mugler's the number one parfumer of French women, and of Kid Sis.


I'm wearing:
Alien

Angel Violet




Eau de Star


Also wearing his beautiful shiny lip gloss. Tasting it right now. Yum. I feel expensive and...cherished.

Hitachi Magic Wand
It will change your lives and bring about world peace. My dream is to start a non-profit to buy one for every woman in the world! The attachments can be boiled/sterilized, and are made out of medical grade material so they won't cause allergic reactions or cancer (!) like the Rabbit.

Just buy it already. I named mine Jay, and I blush just thinking about him. In fact, I've woken up smiling several times with my arm wrapped around him next to my cheek. No joke.



Betsey Johnson's Lanica heels
Hot and comfortable. Love the happy guy in the Overstock comment section bragging about his woman showing her appreciation for the gift...so cute!



Linea Paolo's Adella sandal

The arch this heel gives my foot is in-sane. Soooo chic. Feels like a million bucks.

Yeah. Mmmmmnnnnnnnnn. I have to personally recommend wearing them and nothing else but Mugler perfume. Wow... Goddess, if only men in this town had higher sex drives (see Magic Wand above...what do they put in the LA water that makes men's appetites shrivel?). I could do that once or twice a day. Seeeeeeriously.

Yeah, for that special glow EVERYONE asks about, I also recommend getting a scrumptious Luvaaaah a decade younger...but they're on back-order. I took the last one.

Manometer

How do I know if a guy is worthy of my womanly thoughts?


a) If he reads my blog
b) If he reads Pistoleras in less than a week of receiving it

Easiest gauge in the world. If a guy isn't interested in my online diary or my freaking award-winning calling card, he ain't interested in

a) Talking with me
b) Working with me

Which happen to be my two favorite things in the world. Next to his favorite thing, which I ain't interested in without forging a connection through the first two first.

He gets a walk to first base if he reads Pistoleras on a plane while saving the world a la Pitt/Jolie. Oh, and a foul ball if he reads it and calls it "kooky" or "exploitation". Really.

So there. Couldn't be simpler to choose who to spend my limited time with.

Prowling Sunset

Went to the Kit Cat Club to hear Penelope play her lovely songs (Go to her Myspace page and listen to "Winter's Day"). Ubiquitous Penelope of the Mastercard commercial "Favorite Things", which I'd memorized even before I met her because A) Its theme is startlingly feminist B)She has a lovely presence C)I'd go gay for her. Under the right circumstances. Hey, it has to happen one of these days.

Danny B. Harvey (composer for Pistoleras and The Commune) was brilliant as always, backing her up on roomie James Trussart's famous crazy-ass custom steel guitar. I don't think I ever posted the photos of James's oubliette-esque guitar-making garage or of us all lounging around the living room during a jam, but I think the pix are on my last Myspace album page if you're interested. Heidi's doing a mean air guitar, and Vlad's there, too.

Lovely Lynda Kay of another Danny band Lonesome Spurs was there with the Coffin Purse she designed, talking all about her hubby's new tri-whatever motorcycle with three wheels that's being customized by the old dude who built the Batmobile.

Felt right at home walking into the club, as there were four large photos of Catwoman as played be the real actresses, and well, not by Halle Berry. Club Owner/Stray CatSlim Jim was very cool to me and amused by my Catwoman graduate thesis. He's going to play the drums on Danny's Pistoleras theme for us. Slim Jim wants to host the wrap party, so that's just perfect! Slim Jim's the second member of Danny's band Head Cat, with Lemmy of Motor Head completing the trio.

Afterwards we all hung at Swingers diner where I was pretty much the only person not to order the Jamaican Jerk Chicken other than Brenda. Oh well, next time. And there I got to dish with another Penelope, but one who has known Danny for twenty years. This one does continuity for Family Guy and American Dad, and is going to take me to a table read! Seth McFarlane better look out. My feelings may have waned a little in light of his alleged drinking and tomcat ways, but the heart wants what the heart wants. And me still want to lick the pretty funny man's face. Hot piece of smart-ass.

Elf Yourself

Happy It's Still November For Chrissakes!

Bad Mother Fucker

Yet another reader has joined Kid Sis Land by googling "How to buy Bad Mother Fucker wallet".

People. It's not that hard. Go to badmotherfuckerwallet.com

The end.

I've been a proud owner for years, and really should get a commission.

It's quite the conversation starter for a woman who doesn't need icebreakers. Especially with unsuspecting nuns and kids waiting in line next to me.

Fav recent story:


FADE IN:

After hours after Michael Hayes's movie premier. Empty Beverly Hills street.

LIS FIES, slighly toasted, belly full of garlic naan and goat meat. Kidding around with impossibly handsome smart wealthy witty RYAN, BRIAN, and ENTOURAGE.

BEHIND THEM

In the closed Indian Restauarant, a panicked INDIAN WAITRESS raps from the behind the window. Gestures frantically to the men, holding a cell phone and Bad Mother Fucker wallet carelessly left behind in the restaurant. The men look around at each other. Lis Fies steps forward like Spartacus didn't.

LIS FIES
Oops! Um, they're mine.

Slinks in her sweet 1950s dress and cardigan to claim the tawdry items.

The waitress unlocks the restuarant door and hands them to Lis with a perfect mix of condemnation and confusion as the industry men chortle in that "I'm in love with her" fashion.

LIS FIES
What? You think Dorothy Parker didn't own one of these babies?

END.

Fantastic week

What a great holiday. Spent a Lynchian Thanksgiving with Nurse Sis at our fav restaurant Lawrys, where the prime rib is to die for. Got there at 1 pm and left at 6 pm, hitting some kind of wormhole/tear in the space/time continuum. Still managed to eat an amazing amount of food considering how drunk we were by the time morsels were served and that we were able to chow shamelessly seated just one table away from diet guru Richard Simmons...This is how much food was leftover!

Went with Michael to Little Tokyo to try to get into the Moca's Muarakami (Japanese cartoonist), but didn't like the line. So we saw the Japanese Internment, Landscaping, and Giant Robot shows at the Japanese American National Museum (yea Cate Park! Go GR!)
Had waaaay too much sushi at Frying Fish, then headed to Chung King Road in Chinatown for dirty gay manga shopping, small museums, video and installation art.

Got our pictures taken in a Hello Kitty booth and in general behaved like teenage Japanese girls. Fuuuuun!

Had a good blind date with a producer/writer/actor. Caught up with Lauren at the Grove. Worked on the 'Mune. Watched "Battlestar Galactica RAZOR" (Looooving!!!!). Watched "A Lot Like Love" which was surprisingly interesting. Must remember to stop underestimating Ashton Kutcher, and Amanda Peet is always stupendous. Caught up on all the TV shows I'd be spec-ing if there weren't a strike on.

Today Colleen thoughfully took me to a DGA screening of "The Golden Compass", which was enthralling in the moment (I loves me my Christopher Lee and Ian McKellen), but quickly forgotten afterwards. We had a witty tete a tete lunch with impressive producers/actors Sam and Assef (whose name I'm surely not spelling correctly...and quit calling him Shirley!). This pic from inside the theatre in no way does anyone justice, as they are all beautiful, intriguing, driven to change-the-world artists inside and out.


I'd met Assef last year through ex-roomie Tara (whom we also ran into). Sam Feuer smells great, is whip-smart, listens, split two different Baja Fresh burritos with me so we could taste-test flavors, AND told me when I had something in my teeth. Which means he had the Lis Fies thumbs up waaaay before he had to go talking about the amazing political films he's producing and flying around the world doing cool/smart stuff for. You know, like meeting with the presidents of countries...this Thursday. Had Colleen and me at "political movie about a cancer cure squashed in the 50s by pharmaceutical companies" Oh yeah, with Michael Radford attached.

Also doing awesome: Colleen's "Criminal Minds" episode from two weeks ago is still available online, so go check it out and see her in "There Will Be Blood" this December. Oh, and she gave me "The Fountain" graphic novel back, so remind me if you were the one who wanted to borrow it next.

Up next: quick nap and then more sushi with more friends. Wow, what a lovely, memorable Thanksgiving.

A tip for the dating sistahs

Remember your Evolutionary Psychology when you're interacting with your menfolk. Men and women's brains are not wired the same, for very specific, wonderful reasons. Women connect and emote, men break through to freedom and purpose...alone.

What does this mean in your life? Well, the more intense a connection you make to a man, the harder he's going to boomerang back to focusing singularly on his life purpose, and may even be irritated by the time he's wasted bonding with you.

Women can connect all day and feel wonderful because it's their biological destiny. We were wired that way to keep tribes together, and give our warriors a soft space to land when they came home from protecting and providing. Men need and value what emotion and solace women provide, but if they are men and not boys, they can't have it all the time. Even most of the time. The more of a man you're with, the more intimate he'll be able to be sometimes, and the harder he's going to shove you out of bed the next morning.

So if you have an awesome night with a guy, don't wake up thinking everything's going to be changed and the best it's ever been between you two and that you're going to lay in bed together all day.

Unless you're going for round 2 or 3 or 4, which then...lucky girl! Smile! And THEN expect everything to turn into him being gruff, singularly focused on his life mission, and resentful you're not gone already.

The challenge as a woman with a sleep deficit is to step out of emotion and look at the situation logically as what it is: awesome. You did your job spectacularly. In fact, the more of an ahole he is, the better a job you did. You guided him to connection, to himself and to you and to scary male emotions. Now get the hell out of the way and let him be emotionless so he can go bag a lion. He'll be able to be strong physically and mentally for you now and do HIS awesome job, because you were strong and mature enough for him to trust you with his emotions last night.

In fact, the more he gripes about the lack of sleep and dirty sheets and getting back to his job, the more of a bid he's making for your appreciation and respect for his manliness...he has an important job to do!! Love it about him. Give him a few strokes for being a strong man, fart in his bed (okay, that was an accident), then get out of his way and go live your life with a smile on your face, because you're dating men instead of boys. Lucky girl!

It's a challenge...you have to be a cool woman. A woman who's in control of her emotions and is emotionally intelligent. And you'll eff up and take it personally sometimes, and misinterpret, and snap back because you haven't had your coffee yet. It's okay to be a fallible human female. But you'll be a lot happier and bring more meaning to the world if you can figure out your truest purpose and gift as a woman, and practice it every day. That's unconditional love for yourself, which you have to have first if you're going to bring any light and joy and happiness and beautiful magical womanliness to the world.

Our natures are biological. Don't be the feminist who fights our true selves by trying to be a man, or trying to make a man into a woman. We need each other's differences, and to get each other's differences and make safe spaces for them to thrive. That's being actualized. That's building a world where men and women empower each other to be their best selves. (which by the way, women can have life purposes too...and demonstrating the above through films is mine.)

You Have Your PhD in Men

You understand men almost better than anyone. You accept that guys are very different, and you read signals well. Work what you know about men, and your relationships will be blissful.

How Well Do You Understand Men?

The Commune...

is sooooooo good. Editing is coming along great. Wow.

The game is afoot

Received my first Christmas card today.

Oh, it's on.

The Life of Riley

Man, so proud of Big Bro. He's back from his east coast trip seeing Mom's Cancer adorn the Norman Rockwell Museum walls (til Februaryish), and met an AMAZING slew of brilliant cartoonists. So worth reading his post to be jealous

Show thanks today

"There is more hunger for
love and appreciation in
this world than for bread."

-Mother Teresa

Paul Reubens's Journey to Banana Land

Which in Kid Sis speak means "Happy Thanksgiving."

Favorite perfume?

What's your fav on a woman?

Friday thoughts

Oh! Just got Heidi's vote for The Dress: Fab.

Interesting.

So the votes are:

Girl: Fab
Guy: Hot

Me: Whore



Hmmmmnnn....Minor discrepancy there. Looks like it's back to therapy for me.



God, got this email with George Carlin's jokes in it:

New Rule #8 : Just because your tattoo has Chinese characters in it doesn't make you spiritual. It's right above the crack of your ass and it translates to "beef with broccoli." The last time you did anything spiritual, you were praying to God you weren't pregnant. You're not spiritual. You're just high.

Fine, whatever. I resemble that joke, minus the worried about pregnancy and above my ass. Why do you think I've been trying to figure out what to cover it up with for fifteen years? Which, by the way, fifteen years ago I was CUTTING EDGE.

Christ, fifteen years is almost older than one of the guys I'm dating...My tattoo is more mature than...yup, looks, like it's back to therapy for me.

Make your lungs healthy

Got your attention? Good. Now put down the cancer sticks.

It takes just minutes for your body to start healing after you quit smoking. Learn what you can look forward to when you kick the habit TODAY.

Great American Smokeout. November 15th, 2007.

Click for more quitting tools.

If Mom did it after 50 years, so can you. Pussy. I double dog dare you. Be a quitter.

Inside Elisabeth Fies

How can a woman spend 25 minutes in a Nordstrom dressing room staring at one dress?

Simple:

Hmmmn. I really can't tell if I like it.

Is this what it looked like online? I can't remember...

Maybe if I take my bra off...Oh Jesus Christ no. What the hell?!

This is couture, right? Diane Von Fursterwhatever...Berger.

$350.

Holy hell. I look like I'm presenting at the AVN's...

I don't understand. I must be wrong.

Maybe it looks okay. Maybe it's just the mirror.

I know! Take a picture!



No. That looks terrible.

Try a different angle. Act confident. Posture!

Oh good god.




I can't wear this on my date! He'd be horrified. I can't imagine watching his face as he sat across from me at a fancy dinner...Well. Maybe that French restaurant. Ha ha.

What does it look like sitting down?

Oh, not as bad as I thought. Nothing flopped out.

Good lord, am I sagging like a National Geographic tribeswoman? What is wrong with this goddamn dress? I have awesome breasts!

What did that doctor 90210 say about the woman with the perfect breasts? Measure 23 cm from here...do I have that? Of course, then he gave her implants anyway. Hollywood phony freak.

What if I pinned it...no, there's not enough material. Freaking Diane Whatserbutt and her A cup models.

I miss my perky A cups sometimes. Nah, life is much better curvier...Ha ha, wonder what would happen if I made this photo my Myspace profile? Oh, that's so common Lis. Eff off. You're better than that. Don't be like all the other LA trash.

My head hurts. Why did that bitch squirt perfume on me? Nasty.

What does this dress SAY about me? Besides paw at my boobs? God I don't want him to paw at my boobs. Yuck.

I must be wrong. Even the saleslady said this was her favorite dress, totally classy.

How do I look like a whore in it? I never look like a whore. Even when they dressed me like a whore on that tv show, they were all, "Ah, she's cute as a button..."

I'm so confused. I've got to get out of here. Is it the mirror?

Wait, did I tie the bow the wrong way?



Maybe if went up one more size, the top would close...

I don't want to buy one of those sticky bras. They hurt to peel off. And what if I decide to have sex with him? He has to peel it off? Ew. There's no way I'm wearing this dress and not having sex. But not the right kind of sex. I don't like this one bit.

Am I being a pussy? Maybe it's sensational, and I just don't know fashion. Take a chance!

Buy it. It's the only one left. Buy it before someone else does! You can always take it back...

No, don't buy it! You'll never wear it! Not for Him, or hIm, or that other hiM...

Christ, if you wore it out to the Grove parking lot, you'd be raped before you got to the car. And not only that, there's not a liberal judge in the land who wouldn't say you were asking for it.

I'm so confused.

I wonder what the security guard watching thinks. Do they erase the dressing room tapes? This'll probably end up on Youtube. Don't cry. Don't cry. Defintely don't pick your nose.

Just take it off.

Go home, look it up online again.

It's obviously not meant for you.

*Sigh.*

What a freaking disappointment.

Step out of the pretty thing, Lis. Back away.

Later, At home:

Oh. Yeah, it didn't look like that at all on me. Huh.


Screw it, I'll just wear the dress he liked last time and curl my hair. And...I'm ordering the lobster. For pain and suffering.

When I was a kid...

we had REAL movies and trailers...

Gift of beauty, just to make them happy

"The human soul needs actual beauty more than bread."
- David Herbert Lawrence


I've been making a concerted effort lately to give men the gift of my woman king power...not just to the men I'm dating, but taking a few extra minutes in the morning to put on makeup and perfume, and wear dresses and heels.

Embracing being soft and cuddly.

It's been profound.

Cool, healing results for me. I mean, I hoped it would please some men I love, which is great...but I didn't expect to find a way of being admired by strangers that wouldn't equate to being devoured. Too often as a teen and in my twenties, when I had way too hot of a bod for my own good, I was aggressively hit on by innappropriate men in a threatening way. And had no tools or boundary examples to utilize to defend myself...

Which is why I wrote Pistoleras.

But now that I have self defense tools, and a quick tongue and wit, and am an empowered self-actualized woman...I've often avoided standing out in a crowd anyway.
It seemed materialistic, and too akin to the horribly narcissistic actors LA is populated with...The antithesis of what I stand for, including empowering men and women to relate to each other for a better world. So often a woman's beauty is used for manipulation, as a pawn by either sex. Couldn't I just be seen for my inner beauty, and just by one man of my choosing? God forbid I overdue it and be seen as "asking for it".

Ah, cognitive dissonance.

So lately I've tried to set all that garbage aside and just dress pretty as I go about my day or to my dates.

And last weekend, I was at a juice shack waaaaay too early and dressed in a pretty 1950s dress and cardigan and heels and my trademark sloppy bun...truth be told I needed a shower and to brush my teeth and had no makeup on...

And my worst fear came to pass...

I realized I was being stared at by an older man.


My heart jumped in that flight or fight adrenalized rush felt by every gazelle trapped on a tundra with a lion...

Then the most unexpected thing happened.

I looked in his eyes.

And they weren't gleaming and bugging out Ahoooooga like a cartoon wolf.

Instead he shook his head like he was trying to come out of a daze, and let out this incredible soul-felt sigh.

I'm incredibly shy and embarrassed by male attention (yes, I'm a blusher), so I turned my back to him and sat at a table to wait for my fruit shake.

I heard the waitress (who had already admired my "Bad Motherfucker" wallet") try to take his order. He said he couldn't think straight, and walked over to me instead.

Again, my spidey sense tingled and I prepared to bolt to the safety of my car, shake be damned.

But he approached and said, "I just have to tell you. I've come from a music studio full of dirty smelly men, and seeing you is overwhelming...you are BEAUTIFUL."

...!

That was it. A little more respectful chit chat filled with awe and thanks, and a heartfelt offer that if I ever needed to hear more compliments, he would drop what he was doing and devote himself to the task, as many as I wanted to hear.

He left with his drink first, and as I walked to my Star Wars SUV, I saw him standing in the street waiting to get one more glimpse of me. I left him space to stare without acknowleding it, and out of the corner of my eye saw him shake his head in wonder again.



The gift of beauty, just to make them happy. No strings attached, no agenda. Making a little difference in the world by putting a small smile on their faces. Just be a soft, accepting woman. Be yourself, and give them something to love, adore, cherish, aspire to. Inspire them to become actualized men.



"The great living experience for every man is his adventure into the woman. The man embraces in the woman all that is not himself, and from that one resultant, from that embrace, comes every new action."
- David Herbert Lawrence

"Having achieved and accomplished love... man... has become himself, his tale is told."
- David Herbert Lawrence

"How beautiful maleness is, if it finds its right expression."
- David Herbert Lawrence

"I am in love - and, my God, it is the greatest thing that can happen to a man. I tell you, find a woman you can fall in love with. Do it. Let yourself fall in love. If you have not done so already, you are wasting your life."
- David Herbert Lawrence

"My whole working philosophy is that the only stable happiness for mankind is that it shall live married in blessed union to woman-kind - intimacy, physical and psychical between a man and his wife. I wish to add that my state of bliss is by no means perfect."
- David Herbert Lawrence

Lung cancer is the #1 cancer killer

Thanks to all of my friends who came out Sunday to support the Free to Breathe Lung Cancer awareness race. It was amazing! My Sister Brenda did a great job of organizing. It's always hard to start a new fundraiser, and this one was extremely successful. Even made it onto the news! Next year will be even bigger!

It was a very emotional day. Seeing all the caretakers and survivors, hearing the stories, wondering why mom wasn't a survivor there in a green shirt...

And it was very nice to meet those of you who recognized me as Kid Sis. I feel like I know you, too.

The website is accepting donations until November 15th, so forego a Starbucks or two and support medical research for the tragically taboo, #1 cancer killer of men and women...1 in 12 will get it in their lifetimes. :(

http://www.active.com/donate/freetobreathela








Thanks to Team Commune for representing! It meant the world to me.

And a special shout-out to my brave friends who have been caretakers...I'm blessed to have you in my life, as are your loved ones. Valencia, Dave, Dave, Melinda, Melissa, Charlie, Amanda, Joe, Andrew, so many more...

Cinesexplosion

Oh. My. God.

Kathryn effin' Bigelow. Directed. Ralph Fiennes. And. Guy. Pearce.

Why am I not watching this film right now? Right now, right now!!!

GENIUS.

Rebel alliance

"I can't bear art that you can walk round and admire. A book should be either a bandit or a rebel or a man in the crowd."
- D H Lawrence

Hypothetical Atonement

A friend got me into an Academy screening of Atonement on the Universal lot. Very sweet of him, as the invitation was specific to my public obsession for the James McAvoy.

I do always like the DGA screening crowds best because the audience is filled with such bitter, knowledgable blow-hards. Highly entertaining eavesdropping.

Enjoyed the movie too much. It was absolute torture to see the Mac in another ragingly passionate tete a tete, and to have the inciting incident be his love note:

“In my dreams I kiss your c*nt, your sweet wet c*nt. In my thoughts I make love to you all day long.”


...!

Bloody hell. Well that didn't help matters at all, now did it. For gods' sake, don't the filmmakers know I'm already in my sexual prime, and already head over heels for the Mac? That was completely unnecessary. Cruel, really.

What?

What did I think of the movie itself? Well, let me put my Magic Wand down...

The acting and score were impecable. I want that music. The World War I beach footage was one of the craziest cinematic achievements I've ever seen.

Of course it won't get Oscars because the actors showed the appropriate amount of restraint (We prefer to lob statues at over-the-hill scenery chewers). And the subject matter itself is understated yet devastatingly astute about human character, foibles, cruelty, memory...way too complicated for a town that celebrated "Crash".

Where does the movie go wrong? The same freaking overused device I've been deriding for years now...story out of order as a gimmick.

People. I don't care what worked in the novel. It is hard enough to tell an engaging story that impinges. Stop effing everything up with your cloying film school crutches. All it does is distance your audience and make us remember we're in a movie. And frankly, it's taxing on the brain. I want to get lost in the characters, not write a term paper when the lights go down. Knock it off. Tell the story from start to finish. UNLESS you're using a bookend...that's usually not an irritant and engages us to ask "What happens next?" instead of "What the deuce is going on, and why don't I give a fig anymore?" Story, story, story! That's all it is! All it is. All we want. Tell us a story we haven't seen before. Tell it WELL. And shove your fanciful lighting and editing up your arse.

Urgh. I'm sorry. It's just, it's really really played out. Stop. You too, Nolan.

Oh, if you see Atonement (you should), don't miss Anthony Minghella's cameo role. Rather clever, really. And no, English Patient doesn't count because it didn't jump around until I thought I was going to seize...There was a present and a past that intersected in theme and characters, and once both stories started they moved forward in an orderly fashion. Brilliantly.


Okay, so the HYPOTHETICAL...

Apparently my James McAvoy obsession is not unnoticed by heroic gentleman readers. To the point that they are taking actions to relieve me of my affliction.

You can always tell a mature man by the solutions he procures to relieve a lady of conflict and distress. First there was the Atonement screening invitation. Perfectly innocent.

Hypothetically, less innocent would be if I had received a reminder from someone from a long time ago that he is in fact more McAvoy than McAvoy, and amenable to wearing a "Last King of Scotland" t-shirt.

Rather kind and self-sacrificing, really. A stand-up bloke. Not a git at all.

I think for the sake of the blogosphere, nay, verily, for the sake of the free world, if nothing more then to never be predictable and boring to my readers again...

It is my hypothetical duty to accept friendly help laying my Mac fever to bed.

Putting Mac behind me. Good to know a friend has my back. In Imaginationland.

We shall speak no more of the matter, or the man, or the Mac.


My heartfelt, loinfelt, Black Snake Moanin' apologies to you all.

.
.
.


I wonder if Hypothetical read enough here about The Commune to know I possess a pair of Puck's horns that could easily double for Mr. Tumnus. If one were to be squinting. Can't imagine why one would be. Silly, really.