Of Meisner and Men

So for almost the last two years, I have been taking a Meisner Technique class down in the West Village on Saturday afternoons with a great, no BS teacher named Alan Gordon.  For those unfamiliar with the Meisner Technique, it is so named for Sanford Meisner, one of the preeminent American acting teachers.  Meisner came out of the Group Theatre alongside people like Stella Adler, Lee Strasberg, and Elia Kazan and eventually created his own approach to acting, which became known as the Meisner Technique.  The main points of the Meisner Technique are about not doing anything until something happens to you, doing something because of how you feel, and doing whatever you do fully.  Get that?  It’s all about DOING.  No thinking.  No trying.  It involves a LOT of repetition, which most people would assume is boring, but it disciplines you to listen, focus on your partner, and get out of your own head.  Once you get the hang of it, it’s basically a magic sedative for your neurotic tendencies. 

Well, at least it is for me.  I can’t speak for the OTHER 8,999,999 people in New York City.

Anyway, in Things That Never Happen To Twentysomething Female Actresses in New York (which will probably be the title of a chapter in my memoirs), my acting class happens to have quite a few straight men. 

This is a vision board I made this past summer while drinking a glass of white wine, and yes, features a Beyonce quote. #hypocrite

Yes, you read that 100% correctly.  I am just as baffled as you.  I spent four
years at an artsy university where our unofficial slogan was “gay by May or your money back.” (That is a real thing. #goStars)  I haven’t been around so many straight men in a creative scenario for so long, it feels like being in a foreign country.  The best part is I didn’t even have to make a vision board (which, if I understand correctly, is where women drink white wine and cut pictures of yachts and six-pack abs and Beyonce quotes out of magazines?) or use the Secret to manifest this, it simply happened!

I am at an unusual stage in my development as an adult woman, I think.  My last relationship ended over three years ago, and I really haven’t dated anyone seriously since.  Yet, 75-85% of my closest friends are all in serious relationships now.  I’m 28, and I’ve basically had all of about two actual boyfriends in my life.  I realize I shouldn’t really compare myself to other people, but sometimes I look around and think, am I doing something wrong?  Even my ex is dating someone else (and honestly, I don’t even want to get into THAT right now).

And did I mention that I pretty much work with all men, the majority of whom are straight?  I am surrounded day in and day out by single, eligible men, and I didn’t even have to subject myself to being on the Bachelorette to do it.  No roses to give out.  No weird hot tub conversations.  No fantasy suites.  I wouldn’t mind chatting with Chris Harrison, because we went to the same university, but I don’t want to do it while I’m also trying to court twenty-five dudes with appallingly preppy names like Chad or Geoff (apologies to all non-douchey Chads and Geoffs).

Chris Harrison, fellow OCU Star, and red rose/love advocate

ANYWAY…College Emmy would excitedly down half a Four Loko (the original version with caffeine, because those still existed in my day, sorry body) and proceed to try to get one of these dudes at work or in her class to be interested in her.  She’d try way too hard and get very drunk and force her best friend to drive her to get cheeseburgers from Whataburger at 3:30am and help her take her pants off before going to bed (which may or may not have happened…several times.  Sorry/Thank you, Caitlin.).

But Current Day Emmy can’t be bothered.  It’s not that I’m not interested, exactly; it’s that I’m less interested in TRYING.  Why should I TRY to make any of these men like me?  Why should I TRY to force my way into a relationship I’m maybe not enthusiastic about for the sake of saying I’m in a relationship?  I tried very hard to make my last relationship work, but truthfully, his heart wasn’t fully invested in it or in me.  Trying just isn’t good enough; it isn’t active enough.  Trying isn’t enough.  It is because of my Meisner class that I have become less interested in trying and more interested in DOING.  In FEELING.  In BEING.   I believe it was Yoda who said, “Do or do not.  There is no try.”  I subscribe to that more than ever these days.  It’s like carrying my OWN little Yoda on back through my personal Dagobah training ground (i.e. New York City…which CAN actually get quite swampy in the summer heat).  And that is why I just DO my work and don’t try to make men like me anymore, and you know what?  I have noticed interesting things have started to happen to me.

I carry my Meisner Technique training on my back like it’s Yoda…except my sweaty hair never looks as good as Luke’s.

The more I have focused on my work and doing the things I want to do, the more opportunities have started to come my way.  Better creative jobs.  People wanting to collaborate with me.  Money is flowing in.  I’m happier (other than the deep worry over the spectre of fascism associated with this dumpster fire of a presidential election).  It feels as if the universe is conspiring on my behalf (I know, Amy Schumer; I’m the worst.) the more I DO my own thing, the more I DO my work.  And that has also led me to feeling a lot more comfortable in my own skin and worrying less about whether or not dudes are into me.  It’s actually really freeing.  And when you’re comfortable in your own skin, I think it also makes you more attractive to others.  It’s amazing how when you let yourself be seen for who you really are without apologizing for it (which is a major struggle for women, because we always think we have to be someone else in order to please everyone in a way men never do), the right people start making their way into your life.  You are far more interesting when you’re really being yourself.  And some of the gentlemen around me these days are noticing that confidence and noticing me…if you know what I mean.

And as great and flattering as it is, I realized I actually like having my skills and work validated more than my relationship status on Facebook.  It’s taken me awhile to get there, and I could very well change my mind tomorrow, but if I’m really being true to myself, I’ve always cared more about what I’m doing and putting out into the world my whole life than whether I’m attached to somebody else.  I KNOW.  That’s a pretty big life realization, but it’s the truth.  I never really remember dreaming about my wedding as a kid; it was always about what I was going to DO with my life.  But you all know that if Benedict Cumberbatch or Oscar Isaac or Tom Hiddleston or Michael Fassbender (or any of my other Dream Internet Boyfriends) came knocking on my door, there’s no way I’d be turning THAT down. Honestly, if I feel a strong attraction to a dude now (and maybe I currently do to one one of the fellows around me…which I will neither confirm nor deny at this moment in time), and I feel it’s worth doing something about, then I will (okay, fine, I’m currently doing something about it; I’ll confirm it).  But gone are the days of TRYING; that only led to me feeling unhappy and like I was less than others.  I may not have all the same things in my life right now as many of my friends, but that doesn’t mean anyone is better or more fulfilled than anyone else.  It’s just different is all.

Oscar Isaac: deserving recipient of my pancakes, $12 maple syrup, and my undying love/devotion

Do I get lonely sometimes?  Sure.  I’m a really supportive, smart, funny person who makes awesome pancakes that I think an intelligent, funny guy would enjoy eating for breakfast, but I’d rather the RIGHT intelligent, funny guy get those pancakes than waste my precious time and energy and maple syrup on a string of wrong guys (Hey, real maple syrup from Vermont or our Canadian neighbors is like, $12 a bottle. Not giving that liquid gold to just ANY Chad or Geoff.  Chris Harrison, you may have some.  Also Oscar Isaac.).

And it’s only natural that so much of what I’ve learned in nearly two years of studying the Meisner Technique has begun infiltrating my personal life.  If art truly imitates life and vice versa, then how could I possibly avoid speaking my mind/feelings honestly with others both onstage and off?  I’ve always been a confident person, but having grown up in the Midwest where politeness is prized above plainspoken candor, I haven’t always felt comfortable communicating my wants/needs out of fear of insulting others or being a burden.  But you reach a point where that repression is unbearable and you have a choice: wallow in it or DO something about it.  So now I DO something about it.  And that has made all the difference, because when you are clear about what you want and/or how you feel, it makes it easier to deal with others and for others to deal with you.  You can’t control how others will respond, but you eliminate the guesswork.  Honesty is still, most of the time, the best policy.  DO something because of how you feel.  DO it fully.  Meisner’s mantras are now MY mantras.   They should be all of our mantras.

So DO your work.  DO things that make you happy.  Don’t worry about the other stuff.

Nothing says “I’m a confident, independent Millennial woman” like a hipster filter-y Instagram selfie on a mountaintop (that probably has a caption like #wanderlust)

“We know what we got, and we don’t care whether you know it or not.”

John Steinbeck, Of Mice and Men

Things I Do While Waiting On My Seamless Delivery to Arrive

• Practice pirouettes in the living room in my socks, especially on the left, because my left pirouettes are atrocious.
• Pour myself a glass of wine, which I drink in between pirouettes.
•  Take a shower, frantically sticking my head out from behind the curtain every two minutes to listen for the buzzer.
• Eat a handful of Reese’s Pieces.
• Become wayyyyyy too involved in 5-10 minutes of a Say Yes to the Dress marathon.
•  Immediately pin 5 different wedding dresses to my secret wedding board on Pinterest (which I will forever deny having if you ever ask me because how dare you suggest I am THAT Girl™).
• Obsessively look out the window for the delivery man during a commercial break.
• Swiffer living room and kitchen floors.
• Track my order on Seamless. – “Still cooking.” Damn.
• Pour another glass of wine.
• Eat a handful of kettle cooked potato chips.
• Flip to one of the fifty bajillion showings of Shawshank Redemption and ask why Morgan Freeman doesn’t also have fifty bajillion Oscars instead of just one.
• Obsessively look out the window again like a nervous heroine in a late 70s/early 80s horror movie.
  

  Looking out windows for Seamless and Michael Myers since 1978

• Attempt another left en dehor pirouette.  Not on fleek.
• Hate myself for five seconds for using the term “on fleek.”
•  Eat a spoonful of 1% cottage cheese.
• Switch over to Harry Potter & the Goblet of Fire just as Movie Dumbledore slams Harry against a wall like a WWE wrestler and yells in his face, “HARRYDIDYAPUTYOURNAMEINTOTHEGOBLETOFFIRRRRE?!?!?!”
• “He asked CALMLY,” I say pointedly to the TV, rolling my eyes.
  

  Did no one read the book before shooting that scene?  Accio done with your nonsense, Steve Kloves.

• Track my order on Seamless. – “Out for delivery.” YAAAAS QUEEN!
• Favorite and retweet @lin_manuel about 6 times
• Donate $16 to Hillary’s campaign
• Obsessively look out the window again.  Is that a clown?
• Do a Duolingo French lesson on food.  J’ai faim.  Je voudrais un sandwich.
• “Like” two different girlfriends’ engagement announcements on Facebook. Ugh. Je voudrais un boyfriend.
  

  Literally the only French you need. Stop being greedy, Francois! Crossing YOU off le boyfriend list, merci beaucoup.

• Laugh at Snapchat video sent by my friend Kevin
• Attempt a Snapchat recorded pirouette video to send back to Kevin.  #fail
• Eat another handful of Reese’s Pieces.
• Make mental note to rewatch E.T. the Extraterrestrial soon.
• Make another mental note to phone home.
• Instagram my third glass of wine with the Valencia filter and a caption pretentiously quoting a Transcendentalist author. #basic
• Get nervous/excited when the buzzer rings like I’m going on a first date…except if I were, I wouldn’t have ordered Seamless
• Mentally play the Super Mario End of Level Theme Music in my head as I receive my bag of food from the delivery guy.

5 Lessons From 5 Years in New York

I’ve been trying to find the words all day to articulate how I feel about living in New York City for five years.  You’d think as a writer they’d come easily, but that’s just the thing: writing is intellectual.  It puts you in your head, and as someone who is already admittedly an “over-thinker,” finding words—or more precisely, the EXACT words—to describe an experience or sensation or anything else can sometimes keep me from writing anything at all.  Over-thinking can keep you from doing a lot of things, actually; not just writing or something else creative.

When I moved here five years ago, I was as green as the wannabe Elphabas I sat next to in audition holding rooms.  I would never have admitted it at the time, but the truth is everyone is green when they move here, because no matter how many times you’ve visited, nothing can prepare you for the real ins and outs of daily life in New York.  Everyone thinks they “know how it works,” but I definitely didn’t and none of those wannabe Elphabas did either.  And that leads me to what I really want to talk about: who I am and what I’ve learned.

I can see you starting to roll your eyes thinking this is yet ANOTHER blogosphere tome of Millennial angst and self-actualization in the Big Apple (HOW original! #not), and it might turn out that way (after all I’m just making this up as I go, folks), but you should know that these lessons can apply to literally anyone of any age who feels stalled in life or work or love or whatever.  And you don’t have to live in New York City to learn them or understand them.  And what I’m offering isn’t—as so many in my generation would usually opine online—special, but it never hurts to hear it again.  And maybe the way I say it will hit someone who needed to hear it THAT way instead of the five bajillion other ways they’ve heard it.

ANYWAY.  This is in no way an authoritative guide on how to live your life, but it’s helpful, okay?  Here’s five things I’ve learned in five years in this magical if occasionally frustrating city:

1. Own who you are unapologetically. Though I do not claim to speak for all my fellow Millennials by any means, I have noticed we do this thing where we try to downplay our passions so we don’t come off as uncool or crazy or whatever to other people.  We live in a culture right now where overt shows of emotion, especially passion, are treated as uncool or some kind of weakness, and to quote our very cool Vice President Joe Biden, “that’s malarkey!”  IF SOMETHING LIGHTS A FIRE UNDER YOUR ASS AND GETS YOU EXCITED, YOU DON’T HAVE TO APOLOGIZE FOR IT.    A lot of people, especially creative people, are sheepish about admitting they’re actors, singers, dancers, painters, writers, comedians, musicians, etc.  I won’t get into how society still questions the validity of jobs in artistic fields because that is another discussion, but suffice it to say that I hear too many people, including myself, essentially apologize to people around us for being creative rather than “being something else.”  If the people around you think you’re uncool for being passionate, that’s THEIR problem.  For the first 4 ½-ish years I lived here, when people asked me what I did, I’d respond like, “Oh I temp to make money but I’m really an actor-y, writer-y person like everyone else. [insert various sarcastic jokes here]”  I wouldn’t really fully own up to being the things I most wanted to be.  And I hear people say all the time, “Oh I want to be a” whatever instead of “I am” this or that or the other.  Somewhere over the last year, I stopped doing that and started fully owning my identity as a writer, actor, and producer.  And it became a self-fulfilling prophecy because as soon as I stopped essentially apologizing for it, I started picking up writing jobs and making films and being asked to produce things.  When I started talking the talk, not only did I feel better and happier but I also opened up doors for myself to do all the things I like doing.  But just talking isn’t enough, you also have to…
2. Do the work. I’m a workaholic, you guys.  I have an insatiable drive to accomplish stuff, so I struggle with even taking a day off, which is important for mental health (seriously).  Talent is great, BUT there is no substitute for actually DOING THE WORK.  The only way you’re going to learn how to do anything or be anything is by doing it over and over and over again.  I’m a paid writer these days, but I’m a writer whether or not I get moolah for sending my editor 1000 words on Tom Hanks.  I write all the time in various styles because it’s the only way to get better at it.  I go to acting class twice a week and do endless Meisner repetitions because it makes me more spontaneous and vulnerable.  I read.  I research stuff.  If I don’t know how to do something, I try to figure it out by trial and error and Google searches and occasional phone calls to my Dad if it’s something related to carpentry/home improvement.  If you do the work and know HOW to work, you’ll be ready for when those bigger and better opportunities come along.  Not only that, but having a good work ethic shows people you’re serious about what you do.  Set goals/deadlines.  Hustle to meet them.  Have consistent hours for practicing/doing whatever it is you do.  And the hard part is you have to do it because you love it and are serious about it and not because you have expectations that it will somehow always lead to “fortune and glory.”  BUT you can also create your own fortune and glory too, which brings me to…
3. Give yourself permission and run with it. When I first moved, I had this idea that I had to essentially ask people for permission to do my art.  I’d go into auditions, like so many of my colleagues, and through my audition material inadvertently ask, “Will you please let me be in your show so I can perform?”  YOU DON’T NEED ANYONE’S PERMISSION TO BE AN ARTIST, BECAUSE THERE IS NO ONE RIGHT WAY TO BE SUCCESSFUL.  Feel free to read that several times until it sinks in.  It took me some time to learn that one myself.  Write the script.  Film it.  Put it online or show it to friends.  Go to that open mic night and do your standup.  Choreograph a dance and perform it wherever you can.  The more I have read about how various people got into the business, the more I have learned there isn’t some secret formula or special handshake to admit entry; it’s about work, ingenuity, and a lot of times, luck.  I finally took the plunge and started writing a television pilot, and I have no idea what will happen once I finish it, but I’m doing it because I want to have my writing and ideas seen and heard…that won’t happen if I wait for someone else to give me permission to write it.  You know what I REALLY think?  I think waiting for permission is a way of letting yourself off the hook because it’s scary to do something that hasn’t been done before.  You could fail.  You probably WILL fail at some point or another, but you will absolutely feel better just doing what you want to do than waiting for someone to “let you” do it.  Give yourself permission and don’t think twice about it and then do the work and share it with people.  Van Gogh made basically nothing while he was alive, but he kept painting anyway.  He also cut off his own ear, but I would advise you to think twice before doing THAT.
4. Surround yourself with people who root for you no matter what. Life is too short to spend your time with people who:
   • Condescend to you
   • Talk about you behind your back
   • Don’t care about anything or anyone else
   • Only are available to you when it benefits them
   • Belittle your ideas/dreams
   • Don’t listen with the intent of understanding (as opposed to listening so they can just respond)
   • Are racist, xenophobic, homophobic, misogynistic, etc
   • Don’t tip waiters/maids/service industry folks
   • Don’t read/educate themselves
   • Take themselves too seriously

There are a bunch of other things I could add, but those are big things.  You want people on your team who want the best for you and others…especially on days when YOU don’t always want the best for yourself.  TRUE #squadgoals are people who support your dreams, motivate you to keep working, listen to/assuage your fears and sadness, and always treat you and others equally.  Accept nothing less than the best from those around you.  The dead weight will eliminate itself from your life once you make it clear you only want positive people around.  See?  You CAN lose weight and feel better without drinking any weird green juices!

5. Stay in your own time zone. What I mean by this is there are always going to be people who are ahead of you and behind you in work and life and any number of things.  Don’t focus on what’s happening to them because they’re operating in a different time than you.  You aren’t in Jennifer Lawrence’s time zone (or probably even her friend zone, honestly), so don’t try to be.  You can only do what you can do and you’re “Jennifer Lawrence” to someone behind you.  I’m not saying I never am envious of people having successes that seem bigger than any of mine, but by focusing more on my own work and less on other people, it makes it easier.  Our teachers didn’t say “keep your eyes on your own paper” for no good reason!

I have also learned that bagels really DO taste 1000% better in New York than they do anywhere else, and no, I don’t know why, but that’s just how it is.  I’ve yet to need a therapist or have a totally crazy meet-cute with a charming Tom Hanks-type on top of the Empire State Building a la a Nora Ephron movie, but I’ve done pretty okay in my first five years here, I think.  So onward for the next year of carbs and writing and acting and self-indulgent ennui and running all over these crazy, occasionally mean streets.  Happy New York-iversary.

Naughty AND Nice

We’ve reached that time of year when everyone starts doing their “year in review,” and I know that because Facebook is pushing it hard every time I log into my profile.  And magazines are all doing End-of-Year editions, wrapping things up, making lists, and, you know, checking them twice.  Everyone gets very reflective during the last few weeks of the year as though they’re debating what to write in the yearbook of their high school classmate they didn’t really know all THAT well but want to pretend like they did for the sake of future nostalgia.  There will be extra-long Facebook statuses (and not just from your really crazy conservative uncles) talking about how #blessed people were in 2015 or how shitty the year was but how much better 2016 is going to be because this is FINALLY the year they get their lives together.  We’ve heard it all before…just like Leo hearing he’s the front-runner for the Oscar only to have it snatched away come February.

Will 2016 finally be Leo’s year?

But I’m going to tell you something no one else will around this time of year and certainly not Santa: it’s okay to be naughty, you guys.  Seriously.  Sometimes, it’s better to be naughty than nice.  Naughty people get shit done.

I should probably clarify.  When I say “naughty,” I don’t mean murder or adultery or not tipping your waiters (IF YOU DON’T TIP, YOU’RE THE WORST…or possibly European?  In which case, if you’re European, don’t worry, because your waiters are fortunate enough to get salary, so good job Europe).  I don’t mean voting for Donald Trump or being racist or misogynistic or destroying the planet with pollution.  I don’t mean charging a gazillion dollars for an HIV/AIDS medication like Martin Shkreli. 

When I say it’s okay to be a little “naughty” I mean:

It’s okay to be a little selfish

I know, right?  In the season of “sharing and caring,” I’m telling you it’s okay to to do neither of those things on occasion.  And it is.  I happen to be one of those people who has often been far too accommodating of other people’s feelings and needs to the detriment of my own.  We all have that one friend or family member who just sucks us dry but never replenishes the well, and frankly, it’s not fair or okay.  Sometimes, you have to take care of yourself before you can take care of others, and that is a lesson I have learned the hard way.  It’s not selfish to focus on how YOU feel or to spend time on projects that are important to YOU.  It is perfectly okay to put yourself first sometimes, to say no to things and people, and to focus on what is best for you.  I wish I could tell you that everyone has YOUR best interests at heart, but the truth is there are a lot of assholes out there who don’t and will do anything to get ahead of you in life.  Be kind to others and to those people especially (because they probably need it to make their Grinch hearts grow three sizes).  Always be kind.  But don’t be afraid to do things for yourself. 

Wonder Woman doesn’t put up with your crap, and neither do I.

It’s hard to say no to people who always expect you to say yes, but a well-chosen “no” can change your life just as much as a “yes.”  I started saying “no” a lot more this year, and so now when I say “yes,” it’s to things I really want to do and to people I really want to help or collaborate with.  I’m a lot happier because I know what makes me happy, and now I have the emotional space to actually help others without feeling guilty about how I feel or what I’m not doing to take care of myself.

Embrace your inner-Slytherin aka be ambitious

Slytherins get a bad rap.  Yes, they were the house of Voldemort and a bunch of terrible Death Eaters, but they weren’t all bad.  I say this as a Gryffindor who should be predisposed to disliking them, but I also know that if I’m being honest, I embody some of the qualities of the House that Salazar Slytherin built: cunning and ambition.  It’s the latter that I want to talk about, and especially as a woman.  Men are allowed to be openly ambitious and no one thinks anything of it, but if a woman is openly ambitious, she is often viewed as selfish or aggressive. 

Go for what you most desire…even if it’s just a bottle of peroxide to touch up your roots.

It’s not a bad thing to know what you want and to go after it wholeheartedly.  Ambition, for whatever reason, is viewed with negative connotations, and I honestly think it’s because people are afraid to see others working hard to achieve their goals when maybe they aren’t doing the same.  Where many Slytherins went wrong is in the methods they used to achieve those lofty goals (i.e. like making Horcruxes), but they never apologized for being ambitious, and neither should you.  I am not shy about what my goals are, and I’ve come to realize that I don’t care if people don’t like that I’m ambitious…because it’s my life and goals and not theirs.  Which leads me to my next point…

Don’t try to make everyone like you

This is a battle you will never win…unless you are Paul Rudd, because, to my knowledge, everyone loves Paul Rudd.  ANYWAY, it’s pretty much impossible to get everyone to like you.  It’s stressful and takes up a lot of time you could be spending on achieving your ambitious goals instead.  And definitely don’t TRY to make people like you by attempting to ingratiate yourself on others.  Do or do not; there is no try. 

Yes, Paul Rudd. I care about you deeply. Like, I maybe care too much. Marry me?

People either will like you or they won’t, and there is nothing you can do to change that (other than not be a total asshat).  I have spent way too much time trying to appease other people, which has led to me being walked over once or twice or even thrice (okay, I really just wanted to use the word “thrice”).  In the end, I wound up being really hurt by those people when it was obvious to everyone else BUT me that no matter what I did, they were never going to really like me anyway.  Some people just won’t like you, even if you’re awesome and nice and work hard and make people laugh.  We can’t all be Paul Rudd.  So just do your own thing, feel good about it, and stop worrying so much about what other people think of you.  The right people will think you’re a Paul Rudd.  The rest probably prefer Pauly Shore, and who wants to prefer someone whose career peaked in 1995?  (Paul Rudd’s essentially STARTED in Clueless in ’95, so…)

Work hard, but let yourself live a little

So sayeth the Lord(s)…

Know when to quit.  I fully admit to being a bit of a workaholic, but sometimes I forget to enjoy myself and the fruits of my labor.  It’s okay to have a lazy day once in awhile where you watch Netflix in your pajamas all day.  It’s okay to meet up with a friend for a drink after a stressful day at work.  It’s fine if you want to take a day-trip away from where you live to recharge and explore.  And it’s also fine to do this if you’re poor (you know, within reason).  It can be really easy to let yourself fall victim to the grind of work-sleep-repeat especially when you’re poor and stressed about money (which doesn’t always end when you’re not-so-poor), but you’re entitled to give yourself a break without feeling guilty about it.  I used to feel guilty about going to the movies when I was poorer, but it was the one place that consistently brought me a sliver of joy, so I treated myself; usually, I went to a morning movie where it cost me a lot less, but I still treated myself.  It all goes back to taking care of yourself.  You need balance, which means that as great as it is to work hard and make money, you gotta know when to play a bit and spend even a teensy bit of what you’ve earned on yourself.  So if you need a day to marathon Doctor Who and eat Haagen-Dazs*, go for it.  You’ve earned it.

*I’m definitely NOT** speaking from experience.

**I’m TOTALLY speaking from experience.

Stop apologizing for being happy around others who aren’t, for your opinions if someone disagrees with them, for your successes, for liking things that other people don’t, for not doing things the same way everyone else does

Women especially have a really bad habit of apologizing all the time for everything; almost to the point of apologizing for just existing.  But all of us could use a reminder to stop apologizing for ourselves except in situations that actually warrant a legitimate apology.  First, it is not your job to make sure everyone else is happy 100% of the time, and you do not need to feel guilty if you are happy when someone else around you isn’t.  You can try to cheer them up, but never apologize if you’re a ray of sunshine, and they’d rather be a cloud.  Be happy if you feel happy.

She probably learned this nugget of advice from a made-for-TV movie. #marykatherinegallagher

Second, you are entitled to your own opinion.  Someone may challenge you on it, but you are entitled to having your own, differing opinion.  We live in an age where it is easier than ever to have and share opinions, but most people do not understand that it is in disagreement where solutions often arise, because constructive conflict usually breeds new ideas and compromise.  Life is about balance, and it is good for us to hear different opinions from our own, so that we can be exposed to lots of ideas and learn new things.  As I’ve gotten older, I’ve felt more confident in standing my ground on things where other people disagree, and while I don’t always change other people’s minds, I have stopped feeling guilty about my opinions.

Third, it’s okay to be successful and happy about it; just be careful that you are grateful as opposed to grandiose in your celebrating.  No matter what you do, some people will always look at your successes as their failures, but that is a problem with THEIR perspective not YOUR hard work.  You don’t have to apologize for the things you have achieved on your journey through life just because someone else is a little jealous.  Now, don’t be THAT person who is always #blessed, but it’s fine to give yourself a little pat on the back every now and then when you are crushing it at being an adult.

Be as happy as Lucille Bluth when she’s surprised as Gene Parmesan if you want to

Last, you really don’t have to apologize for liking what you like or doing something different from the way everyone else does.  So you like pumpkin spice lattes and Beyonce?  Great!  You believe in conspiracy theories and watch Long Island Medium?  Cool.  Maybe you tie your shoelaces with one hand or cook breakfast food only at night.  Whatever you like, don’t let other people make you feel bad because you occasionally go against the grain.  Embrace the bizarre parts of you, because that’s what makes you interesting.  Stop apologizing for the things that make you YOU.

But be nice.

It IS important to be empathetic, compassionate, and kind to others.  There is a lot of hatred in our world right now, and we all need to pull together to be a light in the darkness.  Do things for others.  Care about the environment.  Throw someone a smile on the subway.  These little acts of kindness are just as important as the big things you’re doing or hope to do for yourself and the world.  But don’t be afraid of letting that “naughty” side out when you need to.  We all need a little kick in the tush sometimes even if it comes from ourself.

I just realized that I’ve been singing the lyrics to “Santa Claus is Comin’ To Town” wrong for years.  The lyric is supposed to go:

He’s makin’ a list

Checkin’ it twice

Gonna find out who’s naughty OR nice

I’ve always assumed it was “naughty AND nice.”  But maybe that’s because I’ve always been a little bit of both.  We’re all a little bit of both.  So tonight when you put out your cookies and milk for Old Saint Nick, don’t worry too much about naughty OR nice.  Just embrace it all.

Merry Christmas you filthy animals,

Emmy

An open letter to Seth MacFarlane

Dear Seth MacFarlane,

I’m sure you get lots of mail: some from dudes who love Family Guy, some from people who hated Ted 2, some from ladies who thought your boob song at the Oscars was in poor taste (for the record: I’m neutral…even as a feminist), some from ladies who are only interested in your immense wealth.  Maybe some from dudes hoping you’ll put them in touch both literally (gross) and telephonically with Mila Kunis, Amanda Seyfried, and/or Charlize Theron.

I’m writing to you about exactly none of the above things (although I wouldn’t mind talking to Charlize about being a 5’11” kickass woman who manages to look good with any hairstyle), because what I care about is your voice.  No, not the Stewie or Peter one from which you have made millions.  I mean that velvety, unabashedly old-fashioned crooner voice of yours singing along with Joel McNeely’s amazing orchestrations.  The one that conjures up images of velvet suit jackets, smoky lounges, and stiff drinks.  The one that has graced the BBC Proms at Royal Albert Hall.  The one that recorded three albums.  I realize you probably get mail about this too, but because I’ve watched Sleepless in Seattle too many times, I have developed this idea that like Meg Ryan’s character, my letter to you will somehow be more important than all the other letters you and your adorable-if-precocious son have received from women all over the country.

Wait.  Sorry.  You don’t have a son.  At least, that is what my current Google Search results tell me.  They also tell me that prolonged cell phone use may cause an increase in back and neck pain and brought up the Wikipedia page for Star Trek: The Wrath of Khan.  So I have a very exciting life as you can probably tell.

Anyway, I think you should know that one night I stayed up until the wee small hours of the morning (Haha get it?  Because you idolize Frank Sinatra and he recorded an album with this title and this joke is so funny you should hire me immediately to write for one of your shows hahaha) watching you sing “Joey Joey Joey” from Most Happy Fella at the BBC Proms on YouTube.  I’m kind of a sucker for that song anyway, because I happen to think Loesser is one of our most underappreciated musical theatre composers (did I mention I have a degree in musical theatre and an old-fashioned belt like Judy Garland?), but something about the way you sang it in your beautifully spun vibrato just knocked me out.  And despite years of watching Family Guy in living rooms around the Midwest (Where I grew up; I’m dropping these details just in case you want to keep falling in love with me.), this is when I fell in love with you: at 2 am in a tiny NYC bedroom with just the glow of my Macbook screen slicing through the dark and your voice ringing from the speakers.

I’m pretty certain I’m not the first woman (or even the second or third) to tell you she’s in love with you, because you are, after all, a good-looking, successful adult male who is well-rounded and charming and has had his fair share of romantic relationships (and probable imagined relationships in the brains of too-enthusiastic, moony-eyed fans of both sexes).  And I’m pretty certain I’m not the first woman to tell you she likes your singing voice, because you have a mother, and mothers will always tell you they like your singing voice even if it is terrible (unless your mother is Rose from Gypsy, because she will definitely ruthlessly tell you you’re not cut out to be in the biz if you’re terrible).  But I might be the only natural blonde woman (Are you in love with me yet?  I’m 27, so I’m definitely within your suitable dating age range) to tell you both of these things and also say that I think it’s time for you to change careers.

I know, right?!  Who the hell am I to give you career advice?  I’m not Oprah or one of those super attractive “career consultant” type ladies in Manolos The Today Show brings on for a segment that Matt Lauer has to pretend to care about when he’d rather be talking about ISIS, but because I’m a fellow Scorpio like you (See? We are perfect for each other), who has killer intuition and x-ray vision for bullshit, I have always sort of felt like Family Guy was a way of giving you the so-called freedom to do what you REALLY wanted to do: make pseudo-Sinatra albums and give into your more Capra-esque cinematic leanings.  Basically, all that long-windedness above summed up: please just go make Technicolor movie musicals or a Frank Capra-style screwball comedy or earnest drama.  Ted 2 was basically a Capra courtroom drama masquerading as a frat boy comedy.  A Million Ways to Die in the West wanted to be a musical.  Your albums are oozing with charisma and sentimentality.  This is not to say that Family Guy doesn’t have its merits as a consistently funny show and that your voice and animation work are not also important facets of your multifaceted talents; I merely am saying that I feel you are sometimes afraid of being earnest, sentimental, and—dare I say—sweet outside of your recordings and concert appearances, and frankly, those qualities are more attractive to me as an artist and woman than someone who always goes straight for the joke every time (and I would know as someone who regularly is afraid of being honest and sentimental and covers everything up with a well-timed witticism or joke).

As a nerd, I can instantly recognize other nerds, and you are a big one.  I’ve heard you give interviews, talking, in detail, about Nelson Riddle or Gordon Jenkins (who is totally underappreciated) or film scores with an enthusiasm normal people reserve for like, Beyoncé or the latest episode of Game of Thrones.  I once wrote a 25-page paper in college comparing John Williams’ scores for Star Wars, Jaws, and Close Encounters of the Third Kind to Wagner’s use of leitmotif in his operas.  This is not what normal people do, Seth, and you and I are not normal no matter how hard we both try.  I have made peace with this as I have aged and realized the right people will think I am cool, and I think you’re still working on that, which is totally fine.  Being comfortable with your nerdiness actually makes you cooler, I think (I’m still waiting for the popular girls from my high school to confirm this on Facebook, so I’ll get back to you).  I’m not saying you aren’t comfortable with your nerdiness, but because most people know you for being the cool guy of Family Guy or making dirty jokes at the Oscars, it’s almost like your nerdy jazz career is a super-secret alter-ego you only reveal to those you can trust, which is apparently mostly musical theatre/jazz aficionados, the BBC, and old people who miss the Big Band era, which are three very trustworthy, awesome, reliable groups, honestly.  Kudos.  But no great thing ever came from not taking risks, and I think you’re on the precipice (I am always looking for an opportunity to use that word, which I learned from Old Rose in Titanic back in 1997) of something great if you have the courage to just go for it.

I’m sorry for sounding like one of those motivational posters teachers hang in their classrooms that have trippy photos of nature, but I really think it’s time for you to boldly go where you’ve never gone before (Star Trek is still on the brain, clearly).  It’s your earnestness that I responded to when I watched “Joey Joey Joey” at 2am on Youtube, because you didn’t do anything for a laugh or to coast by on charm: you just sang the damn song from your heart.  I think there’s a big ole warm, gooey heart inside of you, MacFarlane, and I want to see it, because it’s way more interesting than everything else.  It’s real…you know what I mean?  And unlike Blanche DuBois from Streetcar Named Desire, I want real, not magic.

Okay, I sometimes want magic too (and especially during the holidays), but real is the substance of life, and I want that.  I think you want that too.  I need to take my own advice, as per usual, but this isn’t really about me.  Actually, I guess it IS sort of also about me too since I’m the one being all righteous and trying to tell you what to do with your life while ignoring my own.  So for the record, I get scared too.  Being funny always feels better because people don’t have time to judge the real parts of you when they’re laughing at something you say instead.  But being funny isn’t all that I am, and I could do a better job of letting myself be honest too.  I guess we both have homework to do, Seth, and if you’re anything like me, you probably enjoyed doing most of your homework (except math because you don’t need that to sing Sinatra or Garland songs).

I’m gonna wrap this shit up here, because I’m worried you’ve already stopped reading and/or are considering getting a restraining order against me, and I really only wanted to write to tell you I’m your fan and really rooting for you in whatever the next phase of your multiple careers is.  I think you’re probably the coolest nerdy dude in Hollywood, and I’m hoping NBC casts you as Harold Hill whenever they decide to do Music Man Live.  You’d crush it during “You’ve Got Trouble.”  I know that because I also watched you do it at the BBC Proms on Youtube in my bedroom (I should probably get a social life).

And if you feel like meeting me at the top of the Empire State Building on Valentine’s Day, I will be the blithely-cool, semi-neurotic, blonde Meg Ryan type (but taller) waiting for you.

Think about what I said.  And think about my Valentine’s Day offer.

Live long and prosper,

Emmy

Nerd Stuff: 3 Behind-the-Scenes Documentaries To Check Out

Most of my friends know I am a sucker for a good behind-the-scenes or making-of story.  I have been known to spend hours going down the Youtube rabbit hole that IS Inside the Actors Studio interviews (James Lipton is both delightful and strange, and I wish someone would interview him about his apparently “colorful past.”).  I love hearing actors talk about their “process” or filmmakers talking about how certain films got made.  So many people only care about the finished, magical result, but I love seeing the mechanics of it.  For me, that doesn’t take away from the finished project, it enhances it.

So, without further ado, here are 3 behind-the-scenes docs I’m currently obsessed with:

1. Ballet 422 (Netflix, DVD/Blu-ray, Amazon) gives viewers a peek into the world of the New York City Ballet as then-25 year old corps dancer, Justin Peck, has two months to choreograph and stage the company’s 422nd new ballet.

   Fans of ballet will appreciate the access NYCB granted filmmaker Jody Lee Lipes into their rehearsals, costume fittings, and performances.  I think I especially loved seeing the collaborations between Peck, the costumers, and the lighting designers as they worked to visualize all the concepts of Peck’s ballet. 

   

   Finale from Peck’s “Paz de la Jolla” image: Paul Kolnik

   Peck is one of the most exciting new choreographers working today (check out his collaboration with indie musician/singer Sufjan Stevens on Year of the Rabbit) and is only the second ever Resident Choreographer for the New York City Ballet in its long, storied history.

2. Listen to Me Marlon (now playing in NY & L.A., nation-wide release TBA) is a fantastic, intimate look at Marlon Brando’s life through his own words. The late actor recorded over 200 hours of himself talking about his life and his work on tapes that were recently discovered. 

   Director Stevan Riley weaves these recordings throughout his film along with TV and radio interviews Brando did throughout his life to great effect. For the first time, viewers get a real sense of Brando’s approach to acting, his influence on the art form, his thoughts on some of his greatest films, and his own troubled life.  It is a thrilling, engaging documentary chock full of wisdom for aspiring artists but also a cautionary tale about fame, alcoholism, etc.  Marlon Brando will always be remembered as one of the greatest actors of all time, but Listen to Me Marlon proves the man is actually just as, if not more, interesting than the myth.

3. You Must Remember This podcast (iTunes, youmustrememberthispodcast.com) is the brainchild of film critic and historian, Karina Longworth who writes, edits, and narrates each episode about lost and/or forgotten history from Hollywood’s first century. She has covered the loves of Howard Hughes, various sex symbols (Isabella Rossellini, Theda Bara, etc), star contributions to the war effort, etc. 

   

   Charles Manson during his trial in an undated photo. (AP Photo)

   However, her current summer season is focused exclusively on Charles Manson’s Hollywood, which is a wholly engrossing, meticulously researched history of Charles Manson, his family, Sharon Tate, Roman Polanski, and all of Manson’s Hollywood connections.  It’s incredibly addictive and full of surprises (like the fact Manson knew both Dennis Wilson and Candice Bergen and ran around for a bit with Angela Lansbury’s daughter, Didi).  The way Longworth is able to make connections between seemingly unrelated persons and events is incredible, and I love how she uses all of it to illustrate both the cultural climate of the late 60s and the murders themselves as well as showing how some of the greatest films of the 1970s (like Polanski’s Chinatown) were deeply influenced by the paranoia and fear of the Manson Murders, the murders at Altamont Speedway, and several other copycat murders that popped up following the events of August 8, 1969.  Parts of the podcast are quite gruesome and unsettling, but the most unsettling part is when you remember that Manson and many of his “family” are still alive and well in prisons around the United States.

Enjoy!

White Nights: An evening at the 2015 Diner en blanc NYC

I realize I have been gone for a while.  Turns out I have something called “friends,” which are people who share common interests and ask you to do things and spend time with them.  Who knew?!  I have had many, many ideas for posts and started writing many times only to abandon ship at the last minute because I let myself convince myself that they were all crap (which totally isn’t true).  It isn’t that I haven’t thought of this blog but rather I’ve been thinking so much I’ve blocked myself from actually writing anything!  I mean, I’m writing all the time, but none of it has ended up here.  Oops.  That changes NOW.

SO my dearest gal pal, Gretchen, has been on the waiting list for the New York City Diner en blanc for two years (!).  For those who don’t know, this exclusive, secret white dinner party started in France back in 1988 with just a few friends meeting for dinner in a park who decided to wear all white so they could identify each other.  Fast forward 27 years, and it has become an event, darlings, that is held worldwide.  New York City has only been holding theirs since 2011 (where just 1,200 people attended), but it has quickly become one of those super-exclusive, trendy NYC events people like my friend Gretchen are on years-long waiting lists for.  This year alone, 35,000 people were on the waiting list!

So last night, Gretchen and I met our team leader at Tribeca Park at 5:30 pm to find out where we were going (did I mention no one knows the location until literally the last possible minute?).

Gretchen & I (aka the #BlondeAmbitionTour) at Tribeca Park meeting location for the Diner en Blanc looking cute with no idea where we’re about to go.  How fab/mod/Wonka chic are Gretchen’s white shades?

Finally, we grabbed our table/chairs and picnic baskets and began the trek with a record-breaking 5,000 other chic-ly dressed DeB participants over to…PIER 26!  Now, I realize this sounds SUPER bougie (and you’d be right) and maybe WASP-y (coming from the very definition of White Anglo-Saxon Protestant-but-who-actually-doesn’t-have-a-country-club-membership), but there were people from literally all walks of life dressed in their finest white accouterments, and it was quite the sight to see this mass exodus of people in white walking towards the Hudson like it was the Promised Land of Milk & Honey.

Following our proverbial “Moses” across the “Red Sea” aka the West Side Hwy to Pier 26 in Tribeca

We arrived at Pier 26, set up our table next to a very lovely mother/daughter pair from the Upper East Side named Linda & Meryl respectively (and no, not THAT Meryl…though she always looks lovely in white as did THIS Meryl).  They really went for the beautiful table setting portion of the evening and were great company to dine alongside.

Our dinner companions, Linda & Meryl’s table setting. How cute! And even though they are fancy Upper East Siders, they bought half of that at DOLLAR STORES. #werq

Obviously, there are lots of Fancy Rules with a capital F about dress, decor, demeanor, etc.  Like how you can’t sit down until the “waving of the napkins,” which feels more like a moment from an Olympic Opening Ceremony or weird cult-y Scientology thing, because 5000 people are doing it all at once all while wearing white and maybe we’re about to sacrifice a bunch of virgins or something.

I would like you to know that despite looking clean and fresh, I am sweating. Like, not cute girl sweating…but like my back could be the setting for Fern Gully because it is rainforest sweaty.

Gretchen and I went for tapas-style dinner…yet we still had WAY too much food because #CARBediem

How cute is Gretchen?! And how tan…

But mainly, this event is about style, flash mob-ery (which is a term I just made up; go with it), and dining outdoors (even when it’s 91 sweltering degrees) so you can be photographed for society blogs/magazines, the NY Times, etc.  It is a See And Be Seen Event, darlings.  It made me feel very akin to going to Truman Capote’s infamous black and white ball in 1966.

No, this isn’t a Debutante Ball, it’s just a LOT of ladies & gents at the Diner En Blanc keepin’ it classy.

This kween was werq-ing the dance floor with her cape. SO many creative costumes!  I felt like I was at a weird garden party/drag queen pageant hybrid…so the best party ever, basically.

The funny/sad thing is Gretchen started out around my coloring earlier in the year, but HELLO SUMMER TAN. I am forever the #porcelainprincess.

Also, Gretchen and I learned very quickly that any cute, stylish man was either there with a girlfriend/wife or boyfriend/husband, so no chance of any meet-cutes. Quel dommage.

All in all, we had a great time and were glad to add the Diner en blanc to our rotation of fun, fabulous #BlondeAmbitionTour events for the year (Up next?  Probably the Grease-themed rollerdisco party in Brooklyn).

Merci, Diner en blanc! Vous étiez merveilleux!

My Favorite Fierce Film Heroines Part II: Rose

Welcome to part II of my series on fierce film heroines.  If you missed part I, which probably happened since I wrote it more than two years ago (oops!), just hop over to HERE.  At some point, I’ll probably add more ladies to this list like Ripley from Alien and Dr. Ellie Sattler from Jurassic Park, but today, we’re talking about the gal who defied her uppity mom and horrible fiancé to run around “the ship of dreams” with a gorgeously hot third-class passenger named Leonardo DiCaprio, erm, Jack Dawson.  It’s Titanic time and Rose’s turn.

Rose DeWitt Bukater

• Our first glimpse of Rose is actually of her amazing violet hat and her getting out of what I assume is probably a Ford circa 1912. 
  

  “They called her the Ship of Dreams…” Because it is everyone’s dream to look THIS good and have Leo as their boyfriend.

  We see her raise her head and then BAM!  Kate Winslet’s gorgeous face appears beneath the hat.  Then she acts all unimpressed with the Titanic like it’s not about to be the ship where she has the greatest sex of her life following the greatest nude portrait session of her life with a dreamboat steerage passenger.  “It doesn’t LOOK any bigger than the Moritania.”  Obviously, Rose has already learned the importance of Say Something Hat Day and how a good chapeau can influence your entire outlook on life. 

  

  Miss Vida Boheme: drag queen, life guru, and creator of the all-important Say Something Hat Day

  Either way, her nonchalance and sass is not something I can replicate with any authenticity.

• Rose meets Jack during a suicide attempt.  Like, GREAT STORY to tell your grandkids, Rose.  “I met the love of my life before I was about to throw myself into the ship propellers.” #dramaqueen much?
  

  No, girl, YOU’RE crazy for not immediately climbing back over the rail into Leo’s arms.

  But actually, if she hadn’t had a moment during dinner and then almost jumped off, Jack might never have walked over to her and been all “you jump, I jump” which is basically the best pickup line no man has ever said to me and probably never will (but I can dream, right?).  I’m not condoning Rose’s original death wish of a plan, but I AM saying that what I got from this situation is that if I do something bold and possibly crazy, Leonardo DiCaprio might start up a casual conversation with me. Or the more likely scenario, which is that he files a restraining order.

• This: “Do you know of Dr. Freud, Mr. Ismay?  His ideas about the male preoccupation with size might be of particular interest to you.” 

GREATEST. DINNER PUTDOWN. EVER.  Ladies, THIS is the way you classily attack a man’s unmentionables during an elegant dinner (possibly held on a luxury ocean liner).  Rose could probably go toe-to-toe with Lady Mary in terms of brilliant snide remarks.

• Jack teaches Rose how to “spit like a man.”  This is about the only thing we mere mortals could possibly do reasonably as well as Rose.
  

  Is there anything more romantic than spitting off the deck of a fancy-ass ship at sunset? Can you do THAT on a Viking River Cruise, PBS?

  Sure, it’s a little disgusting and undignified, but in comparison with how you probably spent your Saturday nights (alllllllll the struggles), this is pretty tame stuff.  And according to Jack/Leo, it’s just all about technique anyway (I feel like there’s a reaaaaaally dirty joke in there somewhere, but I’ll let this one be for now).

• Rose gets drunk and then does pointe in just her stocking feet in third class (which is OBVIOUSLY where the REAL party is; I mean, arm wrestling in that time period is like beer pong now).  Rose, all cocky and confident, asks, “You think you’re big, tough men?”
  

  DO NOT ATTEMPT WHILE DRUNK (or sober for that matter)

  Having studied pointe for six years, I can tell you that this would hurt more than any situation in the Final Destination films (none of which I’ve seen, because I’m not interested in ridiculous death wishes or really inane “horror” movies with thin plotlines).  My toes bled even WITH padding, lamb’s wool, and the occasional paper towel stuffed into the toe box.

  

  True story: I have quoted this film and this line whilst drunk.

  At my drunkest, I have attempted many feats to impress boys at parties, but none of them have involved doing pointework without pointe shoes (though I might have once attempted doing “Thriller”).  Bravo, Rose.  You have feet of steel.

• Rose only has to pay 10 cents for a nude portrait drawn by Leonardo DiCaprio, erm Jack, “wearing this…wearing ONLY this.”  Um, seriously impressive seduction technique for a friggin 17 year old not to mention she seems confident and content with her body.
  

  The kind of body confidence that can’t be taught. You go girrrrl.

  When I was 17, I was pretty much the opposite of smooth unless you count me playing saxophone for jazz band (among also being in marching band and playing oboe as my regular instrument).  If you know me at all, you know I have been harboring an intense crush on Mr. DiCaprio since I was seven years old and have thought out many seduction tactics, but I’m 98% sure if I approached him only wearing a bathrobe and a fancy necklace and then dropped trou in front of him, I’d be slapped with a restraining order (I’m sensing a theme).

• Rose wields an axe after nearly being electrocuted from swimming through the flooded, dark third class hallways and successfully frees Jack from his handcuffs.
  

  Heeeeeeere’s Rose!!!

  Her “practice swings” are, I think we can all agree, pretty disheartening, but because she is Rose FREAKING DeWitt Bukater and destined to be with Jack (at least for the next twenty-ish minutes until he dies), she obviously frees him without scarily chopping off his hands on her FIRST TRY. I have never used an axe, but I DO have pretty boss table saw skills from taking stagecraft lab in college, so I guess that’s something.  However, I’ll leave the brawniness to Rose and the handsome guy in flannel on the paper towel logos (and in selected neighborhoods of Brooklyn/Portland) and just stick to the brains part.

The Importance of Choosing the Right Man

Ladies and gays, I think the most important thing we can learn from our dear, fiery Rose, is the importance of choosing the correct life partner.  At the beginning of the film, she’s engaged to handsome Cal Hockley,

My favorite ever GIF of Billy Zane. Not sorry.

who makes his money in steel and has gobs and gobs of it (enough to buy a bunch of really famous pieces of art AND a diamond that is more ostentatious and obnoxious than the Kimye wedding). 

Hey boo, I bought you this huge diamond so you’re supposed to love me now.

As we come to find out, this is going to be a marriage of convenience rather than love since Rose and her mother are basically bankrupt.

Ah the passive aggressive corset-lacing move is fun, isn’t it? The angrier you are, the tighter it gets. Scarlett O’Hara knows a thing or two about this.

  But it’s pretty obvious Rose doesn’t love the guy (even though Billy Zane’s hair has literally NEVER looked better) not to mention he’s got a temper worse than Alec Baldwin and the table-flipping skills of a Real Housewife of New Jersey.  He’s also majorly controlling and has questionable ethics (pretending to have a child to get in a lifeboat…”I HAVE A CHILD!” much?).

Teresa Giudice has NOTHING on Cal Hockley when it comes to table flipping, y’all. What a nightmare.

  If she stayed with him, Rose would likely find herself in a verbally and physically abusive relationship especially since he full out slapped her in the face aka NOT OKAY.

PREACH

So it’s pretty awesome when she spits in Cal’s face and picks Jack Dawson for a lifetime of love rather than money…ESPECIALLY in 1912.

UGH THE WORST

 

Again, PREACH

Jack is willing to risk his life for her, he challenges her in good ways, he doesn’t want to squash her independent spirit, and he loves her for exactly who she is.  Ladies and gays, THIS is the kind of man you should seek out.  Now I’m not saying you should take up with the first guy who teaches you to “spit like a man” and has sweaty car sex with you in the boiler room of a luxurious ship, but be on the lookout for a guy who cherishes you rather than seeks to buy your affections so he can control you. 

Baby, are you an Oscar?  Because I want you so baaaad.

Now, if he happens to cherish you AND have the money to buy you a blue diamond worth a gazillion dollars, then you really have hit the jackpot of life-mates, and I envy you and your accessories collection.

So where were we?

• Rose loses Jack to the icy depths of the ocean, swims in the freezing ass water to blow a dead man’s whistle to get a lifeboat to come back
  

  Try not to think about the fact that whistle was in a dead man’s mouth. Ew.

  and FINALLY makes it back to America where she tells customs her name is actually “Dawson, Rose Dawson”

  

  LIVE YOUR BEST LIFE, ROSE! YOU LIVE YOUR BEST LIFE AS ROSE DAWSON!

  BECAUSE SHE’LL NEVER LET GO (even though, okay, technically she DID let go of Jack’s hand to save herself but whatever) and TRUE LOVE.  And if you aren’t crying by this point, you are probably a robot named Caledon Hockley.  Anyway, Rose is a fighter, and I’d like to think at some point after all her rollercoaster riding and plane flying (Kate Winslet, you better WERK that aviatrix costume), she went to North Carolina and founded a town called Dawson’s Creek, because she was full of feelings and so are all the people in that town (specifically young adults) according to the WB in the late 1990s.

• AND THEN WE FIND OUT THAT SOMEHOW, MIRACULOUSLY, SHE STILL HAS THE HEART OF THE OCEAN.  And by “miraculously,” I mean “movie-magic” because it’s a necessary and emotional plot point that needs tying up.  And now that Rose has essentially told Bill Paxton and his merry band of sea treasure hunters her entire secret life and sex history,
  

  “It BELONGS in a museum!” – Indiana Jones

  she must die a poetic death after throwing her “heart” back into the ocean (eh?  See what I did there?).  And thus, she goes to “heaven,” which for her is the prettier parts of the Titanic where Leo is waiting to make out with her,

  

  Just add pizza to this and pretend Kate is actually me, and you’ve got my idea of heaven.

  and clearly, Rose has been reading my thoughts, because oddly enough, that is exactly what heaven looks like to me too.  But also with pizza and burritos that don’t make you fat.

So, in conclusion, I think we can all agree that Rose DeWitt Bukater Dawson is a lady worth our admiration and respect.  She blazed those trails one giant iceberg at a time and lived life on her own terms.  Everything’s coming up roses…this time, for her!

The Wintry Mix: Movies to Watch During the Not-so-great Blizzard of 2015 (Part II)

NYC’s Great Blizzard of 2015 was decidedly a Great Big BUST instead, but that doesn’t mean you can’t still indulge in a few more wintry movies while you wait for mass transit to start back up again and roads to get cleared.  I posted the Wintry Mix Part I yesterday, so without further ado:

PART TWO

Die Another Day (2002)

The only frostier reception Pierce Brosnan has received was for his singing in “Mamma Mia”

So it’s probably not the best of the James Bond movies by any stretch, but Pierce Brosnan’s last outing as the eponymous MI-6 agent is pretty fun.  The plot gets a little complicated, but there’s a lot of business with North Korea (timely!) and a mysterious millionaire named Gustav Graves who has (wait for it) an ice hotel in addition to a super cool satellite that will obviously put the world in danger.  Come for Halle Berry as Jinx, stay for Rosamund Pike (in one of her first big roles before Gone Girl fame) as Miranda Frost, who also happens to have been trained in fencing by a character played by…Madonna.  Because why not?

The Shining (1980)

“I’d like red…rum. Get it?” (maniacal laughter)

Redrum redrum redrum.  Director Stanley Kubrick paces this horror classic perfectly, giving viewers and its star, a terrific and terrifying Jack Nicholson, an overwhelming sense of dread throughout.  It’s the rare horror film that also doubles as high, intellectual art.  Though novelist Stephen King hated what they did to it, everyone else seems to agree it’s a masterpiece.  Not recommended viewing for those who are caretakers at humongous hotels built on old Native American burial grounds.

Encounters at the End of the World (2007)

Brrrrrr

This intriguing documentary from Werner Herzog explores what it’s like living and studying at McMurdo Station in Antarctica.  Interviews with scientists, breathtaking views of the coldest continent, and cute penguins all await you in addition to a lot of life-affirming tales.  The documentary may have a chilly subject, but it will surely warm your heart (sorry, I know that one was really cheesy).

Little Women (1994)

My favorite ladies

Full disclosure: this is one of my top three favorite movies of all-time, so I’m a little biased.  In my opinion, this is the best and most loving film adaptation of Louisa May Alcott’s classic novel about four very different sisters’ coming of age.  The score is gorgeous, the cinematography warm, and the acting from the all-star cast is superb.  Winona Ryder scored an Oscar nomination for her layered, heartfelt portrayal of Jo, and after you wipe away your tears, you’ll see why.  And if you don’t swoon over Christian Bale’s Laurie (or at least his hair), there’s something wrong with you.

Fargo (1996)

Badass

Nothing says “happy snow day” quite like a triple homicide and a botched kidnapping in snowy Minnesota.  The Academy Award winning film from the Coen Brothers was turned into a fine TV series this past year, but start with the sometimes funny but increasingly violent film.  Frances McDormand is great as pregnant policewoman Marge Gunderson as are Steve Buscemi and William H. Macy.  Entertaining? Yah, sure, you betcha.

The Wintry Mix: Movies to Watch During the Great Blizzard of 2015 (Part I)

New York City is about to get pummeled by what may be a historic blizzard the likes of which hasn’t been seen since 1947 (or possibly ever).  Everybody is in storm-preparation mode getting all their groceries and batteries and whatnot, but what about entertainment?  Sure, you can binge-watch all those TV shows you’ve been meaning to start OR you can check out the movies on my Wintry Mix Movie List!  Grab a blanket, some munchies, and a mug of hot chocolate and get ready to let it snow with these films (Sorry, y’all, we can do much better than Frozen).

PART ONE

Snowpiercer (2014)

Even dirty with a beard, Chris Evans is ridiculously handsome.

One of the best and most underrated movies of 2014, the film stars a bearded Chris Evans, Tilda Swinton (in an awesomely gonzo performance), and John Hurt and places them on a high-speed train that circumnavigates the globe after a global warming experiment goes wrong and kills most of Earth’s population, plunging the planet into a deep freeze. Naturally, something goes wrong on board the train, and a revolution begins.  It’s a visually-stunning movie with a timely plot and quite a twist towards the end.  I found it fresh and incredibly entertaining.  See the trailer here.

The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, The Witch, & the Wardrobe (2005)  

If this took place in 2015 instead of the 1940s, PETA would be throwing ink all over that fur.

You know the story: four siblings are sent to live with an eccentric professor in the English countryside to escape the London Air Raids during WWII and wind up stumbling into a magical world known as Narnia through a wardrobe.  Christian allegories galore plus Liam Neeson as a majestic lion.  But the real draw is Tilda Swinton (because who doesn’t need MORE Tilda in their lives?) as Queen Jadis, the White Witch, all icy bitchiness and glee.

Edward Scissorhands (1990)  

Ice ice baby…

“You see, before he came down here, it never snowed. And afterwards, it did. If he weren’t up there now… I don’t think it would be snowing.”  This is the film that first introduced me to Tim Burton and Johnny Depp and certainly one of their best collaborations.  Edward, a shy loner who happens to have scissors for hands, is brought to live with the suburban Boggs family and winds up falling in love with their beautiful daughter, Kim, played by Winona Ryder (Winona Forever!).  This being a Burton movie, it’s visually stylish and endearingly odd but remains one of my favorites of his cannon.

The Empire Strikes Back (1980)

“C’mon…kiss me!” Okay, Han.

You can’t make a list of wintry movies without including Hoth! If you don’t know the plot of this movie aka haven’t seen it, I probably am suspect of your movie tastes.  Obviously, ESB is the best Star Wars film because who doesn’t love daddy issues, spaceships being swallowed by asteroid-dwelling creatures, a green alien who speaks like Confucius, a princess and smuggler making out, and BILLY FREAKING DEE WILLIAMS IN A CAPE?!  Yeah, you know you love it or your heart has been put into carbon freeze.

The Ice Storm (1997)

Apparently, everyone had beautiful peacoats in 1973.

Ang Lee’s engrossing drama centers around a suburban Connecticut community in 1973 during a terrible ice storm where several interconnected families find their lives spinning out of control.  It’s an all-star cast, literally: Kevin Kline, Joan Allen, Tobey Maguire, Christina Ricci, Sigourney Weaver, Katie Holmes, Elijah Wood, Allison Janney.  It’s serious and sad, and an excellent portrait of the existential crisis felt by so many in the years after the swinging sixties.

Stay tuned for part II of the Wintry Mix featuring Bond, penguins, “Heeeere’s Johnny,” and more!