Guilty Pleasures IV

1.Dawson's Creek

Unless you've been living under a rock for the past 14, you must've at least heard of this show. It was one of the most popular teenager tv shows ever. Instead of having an incestuous group of rich teens, you had an incestuous group of teenage small-towners – with a vocabulary range to put to shame a Nobel winner.

Place: Capeside. Your (so-called) protagonist: 15-year-old Dawson, an only child and movie buff; his best friends are Joey, a sulky girl whose dad is in jail, and Pacey, the local ne'er-do-well. And to disrupt this already disfunctional little group comes Jen, a large-breastedblonde from the big city – she's seen and done it all!

The story: Joey likes Dawson, Dawson likes Jen; Pacey likes the teacher; now Jen likes Dawson, but Dawson's dating Joey; they break up; Joey and Dawson are back together, and break up; the new character Jack finds out he's gay; Dawson finds out Joey and Pacey are together now and flips; their friendship's over; Dawson makes his infamous “crying face”; Pacey and Joey break up; they all go to college, except Pacey – he becomes a cook. (?)

Dawson's dad dies, and because of that he can't be with Joey (??); she dates a bunch of guys, including the one from One Tree Hill; somehow, Joey's become the protagonist of the series; Dawson sleeps with Jen; Pacey becomes a stock broker. (???); Pacey and Joey get back together, and break up again. Dawson and Joey finally sleep together, but it doesn't work.

Big finale: Dawson's the director of his own teenage series; Pacey goes back to being a cook, and gets back with Joey forever; Jen dies of a heart condition she's always had, but that no one had ever mentioned before. But that's fine, cause Jack's the guardian of her child (????).

That's the story of the entire 6 seasons.

One of the things that has always amazed me is this: Dawson was the hero, and it all boiled down to the big question: who will he choose? Jen or Joey? And then somehow, either because Dawson was annoying and vanilla or because the actor James Van Der Beek did a terrible job (and was too old to be playing a teenager), at some point along the way Joey became the protagonist, and the big question turned into: who will she choose? Pacey or Dawson?

But the something that bothers me above all else is the dialogs. Vocabulary worthy of an English Ph.D. in Formula 1 speed. Who the fuck talks like that?!

Ok, let me reiterate that: what teenager talks like that? Or: Who talks like that and is not a pretentious douchebag?

If you don't know what I'm talking about, let me illustrate it:

"DAWSON: In the best, most desirable way -- you scare me. But I love the way you scare me but it makes me nervous and then I say or do something really stupid so I spend all this energy coming up with ideas to be smart so that you don't think I'm stupid and those ideas inherently backfire therefore making me look more stupid. It's a vicious circle, Jen and I'm at the end of my rope because all I really want to do is kiss you and feel if I don't kiss you soon I'm gonna explode."

"JOEY: What you’re telling me is that you’re the innocent victim of some behavioral psychology experiment gone horribly awry?
PACEY: Yes.
JOEY: And you’re desperately in need of some able-bodied female to help you provoke some preconditioned, Pavlovian homework response?

PACEY: Yes."

"JOEY: Your girlfriend offers her lips to you in the spirit of teenage lust and you'd rather watch the "E! True Hollywood Story" on Danny Bonaduce for the fourth time?"

Yeah, 15-year-olds use words like “inherently”, “behavioral psychology”, “able-bodied female”, “preconditioned Pavlovian response”, “the spirit of teenage lust” all the time. C'mon, teenagers don't even know the meaning of those words, most of the time. Granted, I used to talk like that when I was 14, 15. But I was an extremely pedantic teen, so there you have it.

And still, whenever I catch it on TV, I watch it – wholeheartedly. Can't tell you exactly why. But I guess it's Pacey, I just find him so charming! No wonder Joey picked him in the end – who would wanna stay with whiny, annoying Dawson?! 


Not to mention that the actor who played Dawson, James Van Der Beek, did nothing worthy of notice after this show - while the others went on to do other stuff: 

- Joshua Jackson (Pacey) starred in those Duck movies about hockey (ok, perhaps that's not what success is about...), and now is one of the main characters in "Fringe"; 

- Michelle Williams (Jen) married Heath Ledger (it doesn't get better than that), and was nominated three times for an Oscar - man, she played Marilyn Monroe on the big screen! And she actually won a Golden Globe; 

- Katie Holmes (Joey)... well, we all know about her, right? She's Mrs. Cruise now, she appears in movies every now and then, and she's got the most annoying Hollywood child ever. She may not be the best actress nowadays, but she's definitely a celebrity;

- James Van Der Beek... meh.

Anyway, there you have them: my 7 guilty pleasures. They're so guilty they almost feel like the 7 deadly sins, really. And we know what the forbidden fruit tastes like!

But you know. God forbid I ever tell any of those things to one of my friends, face to face!

You gotta love the Internet.

Guilty Pleasures III

2. Twilight

Don't even know what to say here. I'm terribly ashamed of myself. The story sucks, the characters suck (BAD), and the writing is appalling. I refuse to acknowledge that Meyer's got the same college degree I do: English. I say bullshit.

Ok: Edward Cullen is extremely charming, once you get past the whole “I wanna drink your blood, and I watch you sleep every night” thing. His family can also be quite interesting: Carlisle is very easy to like, as are Alice and Emmet. Esme is completely null, of course. And Rosalie is made to be hated. Jasper is also meant to secretly be the bad-ass of the family, which is why he's my favorite.

Jacob is a cutie too. (And talk about abs, huh?) 

All of that, however, occurred to me only at first. I finished the 4^th book with a whole “wow, that was a great story, if you overlook the vampire-absurdities and bad sentence constructions!” Two days later I stopped to think about it; suddenly, I was all “Wtf did I just read? Did I actually pay money for that shit?! Oh dear God, Heaven forbid people know I read THAT.” Hindsight is a bitch.

Edward treats Bella like a retarded child all the way; besides, he's ridiculously over-dramatic. And yes, I know, he's supposed to be 17. Teenagers are dramatic. But actually, he's a 100-year-old 17-year-old. He's been around for more than a century. I think, think, that's time enough for one to grow up, right? Like, he should be an old soul, in the body of a 17-year-old guy. Instead, he acts and talks like a 15-year-old girl. What's up with that? And the other Cullens, even the cool ones like Jasper, don't have any other layer to them. They're shallow, all made up of one or two characteristics only: Carlisle is prudent, Esme is gentle; Emmet is strong, and Rosalie a bitch; Alice is the fashion-crazy chick who can see the future and Jasper, the silent one; Edward, of course, is all kinds of royalty: prince charming and a drama queen; Jacob, the loyal guy, with an acute case of unrequited love. That's it, and that's all. They don't have anything else, there's nothing more than meets the eyes. There's no character development, not even for Bella, who's supposed to be the heroine! If there's no character development, your story's devoid of any kind of meaning, just so you know, Meyer.

You know what else bugs me? The amount of make-up on the Cullen family, dear God! And their hair, what's wrong with their hair?! If they needed blond people, why didn't they cast blond people, instead of Peter Facinelli (as Carlisle), Jackson Rathbone (as Jasper) and Nikki Reed (as Rosalie)??? Just take a look at the pictures linked and see for yourselves. It's like Jessica Alba being cast as the Invisible Woman all over again. Yes, she's gorgeous, but is she blond? *sighs*

And do NOT get me started on Bella. I know many girls relate to her and all, but when you're older than 20, you can see that girl's utterly retarded. And Kristen Stewart's horrible job as Bella has done nothing whatsoever to improve the character. She's, like, Hayden Christensen's female counterpart.

And yet, I know all of that. Cause I read the books. And at the time, enjoyed them *facepalm*

AND, and: the birth scene in Breaking Dawn Part 1 is the most disgusting thing I've ever seen. 

Admitting Guilty Pleasures II

 4. Boy bands

Their time is long long gone, along with my teenage years. Those bands started falling apart, and each of the singers went after their solo careers (or NASA careers – yes, I'm looking at you, Lance Bass. What the hell were you thinking? NASA, seriously?! Yeah, right, you can sing Bye bye bye to that).

They all sang pretty well and the music in itself was always either rather groovy or quite pretty. But C'MON, have you listened to the lyrics?

The Backstreet Boys' I want It That Way: “You are my fire, the one desire, believe when I say, I want it that way”.

We've Got It Goin' On? “Jam on cause Backstreet's got it, come on now everybody we've got it goin' on”.

Incomplete: “Empty spaces fill me up with holes, distant faces with no place left to go”. How clever!

'N Sync's I Need Love: “I need love, you need love, we all really need love. All I want, all I need, we all really need love”.

Tearing Up My Heart: “It's tearing up my heart when I'm with you, but when we are apart, I feel it too, and no matter what I do I feel the pain, with or without you.” #U2feelings?

5ive's Everybody Get Up: “Everybody get up, singing 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 will make you get down now!” Yeah sure, whatever British dudes.

And don't even get me started on Westlife.

No matter how well they sing those songs, the lyrics always remind me of a wine tasting session: whiny and cheesy. Those songs only talk about three things: a) a girl the singer loves but can't have – she's either friend-zoned him, or she's dating some jackass; b) a girl who left him cause of some stupid mistake he made, and now the singer's begging her to come back; c) a girl he used to love and now hates cause she left him (usually for some other guy with more money).

However, there's a reason why I know their lyrics well enough to write them down without having to google them. I still have all of them in my iPod, and yes, I still listen to them. Just yesterday I was cleaning up while singing It's Gonna Be Me. I like to listen to those horribly tacky songs, and I like to sing along, and make faces while at it.

In my iPod, all of those boy band songs are in a folder called “Things I'm not proud of”. But they're all there. And when the Backstreet Boys came to Brazil last year, I went to their show. Proudly. Or almost.

Also: I still have a HUGE crush on Justin Timberlake. Britney seriously lost the best catch in Hollywood. 

3. High School Musical

VanessaHudgens HAS to be one of the most annoying actresses I've ever seen. Her pretty face is too small, her voice is too pitchy, and everything she says sounds annoyingly self-righteous. Besides, her character in the movie, Gabriella, is ridiculously exasperating: she's pretty, she's part of the scholastic decathlon team, she can sing well, she's incapable of harming anyone, or saying anything mean, she's C'MON! If there's one thing Hollywood producers, executives and screen writers have yet to learn is this: perfect protagonists are impossible to empathize with. We like to see flawed characters, characters that mirror ourselves. Which is why most people end up rooting for the villain or the underdog rather than the hero/heroine of the story. A thoroughly nice beautiful girl that can do everything perfectly is definitely not the mirror of the average Jane.

Same thing goes for Zac Efron's character, Troy: he's abusively handsome, a nice son, a nice friend, a nice student, a nice boyfriend, the complete jock, captain of the basketball team, he can sing well, AND he's got loads of charisma (something Vanessa Hudgens definitely lacks). Again, not your average Joe.

The premise of the movie is also kind of stupid: Troy and Gabriella's friends have a hard time understanding that they have other interests? They can't accept the fact that those kids might be interested in something else other than playing basketball/studying Math? What kind of world is that where people can only like and be good at one thing??

And yet, I've seen the three movies, I've got the complete soundtrack in my iPod, and I can sing almost every song. And I have a blast every time I watch the movies/listen to the songs. A few things that occur to me in my defense: 1. Zac Efron is really handsome and charismatic; 2. the songs are nice to sing along; 3. the “villains” are funny as hell; 4. it's better for a child or a teenager to be watching this than some movie full of violence and sex. Am I right?

To be continued...

Admitting Guilty Pleasures

The other day I was watching TV – and feeling terribly ashamed of myself.

We all like stuff that friends and significant others think silly: I've already dated a guy who thought Agatha Christie was everything that is wrong in Literature; a friend of mine hates Nirvana; my boyfriend won't even go near a Disney movie.

Nevertheless, I love Agatha Christie, Nirvana is my favorite band, and I watch Disney movies all the time. Because while those people might not like that stuff, I do. I think Agatha Christie created great stories and wrote them well; Nirvana composed awesome songs, and the band played them all really well (well, perhaps not live); and Disney movies are amazingly well-made. I'm not ashamed to say I like those things. It's simply a case of “different strokes for different folks”, and that's fine.

But then, we all have our guilty pleasures. Something we know it's bad – badly written, or composed, or filmed or thought of, or whatever – but still enjoy. Stuff we rarely admit we like, that we might even trash in front of our friends!, but that we also secretly enjoy, no matter how ridiculous it is.

Thus, I've gathered here a list with my guilty pleasures. I thought of listing 10 of them, like most lists do – but then, I don't play by the rules. I'm a maverick. Hence, I'll be treating you to a list of my 7 guiltiest pleasures.

It might also be due to the fact that I simply couldn't think of 10 things. Anyway:

7. Gossip Girl (the novel)

When the TV series was announced, all those years ago, I thought to myself: “I see. Another series about ridiculously rich teens, who have no sense of reality whatsoever, and make big dramas out of nothing. Just like Beverly Hills 90210 and The O.C.

...I MUST SEE IT!”

I was not disappointed. It was everything I expected – nay, hoped it would be: beautiful 25-year-olds playing high-school teens, money all around, houses I'll never have, overpriced clothes and DRAMA. I was instantly addicted to it.

However, there's a HUGE difference between allowing yourself to watch a TV show on cable (you pay for the cable tv, and the show comes with the package, what can you do?) and going to a bookstore, finding the book, willingly taking it to the cashier, and paying money for it. I took that book with me wherever I went, and did not put it down till I was finished.

But, truth be told, I was extremely ashamed of opening it near people I knew! From the heights of my literary knowledge, I look down on stuff like that. It's instinctive: I know I'm supposed to despise such things. But... all that drama! It's so enticing! How could I not be attracted to it?!

Notwithstanding the siren's spell, I've managed to read it only once, and not look for the sequels. Phew! Crisis averted!

6. Reality Shows

I know, I know: they ARE everything that is wrong with television nowadays. Still, there's a reason why they're successful: people love watching other human beings stuck in awful situations, and making drama where there's none. Which is why most people enjoy a god old soap opera. And a reality show is even better than a soap opera, because it's got real people in it! O.o

I actually refuse to watch shows like Big Brother and Survivor. I think there's no good reason to put yourself through all those indignities. Oh, money? Is that what you're after? Then go get yourself a job, like the rest of us. 

As for dating shows, like The Bachelor... well, here's where things get shady for me. I entirely disapprove of both the premise and the execution of it – but still catch myself watching it from time to time.

But THEN, we have things like American Idol, The X Factor, So You Think You Can Dance, Top Chef, Runway Project, The Glee Project, etc. etc. etc. Shows on which people gotta have real talent in order to win. I can totally get behind that. It's entertaining for us, and good for them (I guess). And I do love a good singing competition! (Though now that Simon and Paula have left American Idol, there's no reason to keep watching it. The thing now is The X Factor, am I right?). Top Chef is also really interesting – but I don't keep track of it: it makes me hungry. And even though I don't watch Glee either, I LOVED The Glee Project! And those girls on America's Next Top Model are too good to miss: they CRY when they get a haircut! They actually think they've lost their identities! They're like “I don't know who I am anymore...”! Still, the photo shoot sessions are great to watch, and the pictures are beautiful.

And the dearest show in my heart: So You Think You Can Dance. God, how I love that show. Can't wait for next year.

But yeah, it's hard to tell that to most of my friends... I usually get laughed at. [sighs]

5. 27 Dresses

I used to love Grey's Anatomy (I'm very partial to hospital dramas as well), and Katherine Heigl's character was my favorite. Then, she started appearing on romantic comedies, and I thought “hey, great! Lemme watch that one, what's the tagline?... Always the bridesmaid, never the bride. Huh. Ok, let's see”. The fact that standing by her side was James Marsden, aka Cyclops, aka the prince from Enchanted, aka one of my biggest crushes ever, was another reason to watch said film. "From the screenwriter of The Devil Wears Prada" didn't hurt either.

Is it original? No. Does it convey any special message? Nah. Is the acting particularly mind-blowing? Nope. And nowadays, I don't even like Katherin Heigl that much, she's turned out to be somewhat of an insensitive bitch who chooses to play the same role in different films – most of them, soul-crushing bad films.

But I can't stop watching “27 Dresses”! Damn it!

Maybe it's James Marsden, I don't know. He sure makes everything better just by existing and looking the way he does. And when he moves, my heart totally skips a beat.

But the thing is: whenever I'm switching channels, and I stumble on 27 Dresses, I stop to watch it. Until the freaking end. Because it's 27 Dresses. I've got the DVD, but I'm gonna watch it on tv anyway.

But if you're a friend of mine and ask me what I think about the movie, I'll tell you right away: “God, does that movie suck or what?!”.

To be continued...

Sharing Your Life (or: On The Small Things)

M.H.: "And how's the married life?"

Me: "Going great, thanks!"

M.H.: "Have you quarreled yet?"

Me: "Yes, of course."

M.H.: "Good. Had you said you hadn't, I wouldn't believe it."

I lived with my parents, with my grandma, with my dad and stepmother, my grandma again, by myself, with Roomie, and now with my boyfriend. The last one is definitely a different experience.

I've learned I'm a hard one to please. Examples:

I'm very disorganized, and usually leave half of my wardrobe either on the bed or on a chair before going to work in the morning. I was worried he might complain - but he couldn't care in the slightest. This is both a relief and infuriating. "Good, I'm glad he doesn't mind... phew! (...) How on Earth can he not care? This is outrageous, it should bother him!"

He's at the computer doing something, and I get annoyed that he doesn't suggest we do something together. And whenever I'm at the computer and he talks to me or suggests we do something, I get annoyed too: "Can't he see I'm busy? If I wanted to do something else I'd say so!"

When he doesn't do the dishes, I complain. And when he does see to the dishes, I sigh, irritated: "Well, he's done the dishes, so now I have to sweep, can't guilt trip him into doing it. Great, thanks a lot."

I'm nothing if not unfair. 

He doesn't do everything I want him to, when I want him to - I'm an only child, it's really hard to cope with that! However, even though I have several shortcomings, he puts up with all of them, and I'm never afraid he might like me less if I do something wrong. I'm VERY cranky, but still he likes me. It's nothing short of a miracle. 

True, many small things annoy me. I always stumble upon his shoes, in the middle of the bedroom; the soda is always out of the refrigerator, and he never remembers to fill the water jug; the pizza cardboard box will remain on the stove for days, unless I do something about it. 

But my clothes are all over the bedroom, I spend too much money buying books, and I leave my laundry completely up to him. And I PMS. Every goddamn month. 

Still, do you hear him complaining? Neither do I. 

Quarreling is normal - but it's important not to quarrel over that which is insignifcant. Raising hell because one of you forgot to take the trash out is insane.

If you don't let small things slide, you'll never be able to deal with the big ones. So whenever I go to the bathroom, I simply lower the toilet seat and screw the toothpaste cap back on, without a word or an annoyed frown. When he goes to the bathroom, he sweeps my ubiquitous hair off the floor. When there's a glass on the table, we take it to the sink, and it doesn't matter who left it there. We simply wash it and move on. 

I think I'm on to something here. 

Preambling

*knocks*

*pokes her head through the door*

...Hello? Anybody there?

5 months of no writing; I feel rusty.

A friend of mine once told me that true artists are at their best when miserable; once their misfortunes reach an end and they're happy again, like Jane Austen heroines, Inspiration eludes them. Could it be true?

I realize I'm flattering myself, implying that I'm a “true artist”. Were I more realistic, I'd just admit I'm not this generation's Kundera or Salinger or Wilde – I'm not even the next Helen Fielding. I'm just an average girl (woman?) with Internet access at home.

Still, if I don't flatter myself, who will?

And I like to think my writing better than Stephenie Meyer's.

Moving on: maybe my friend's a cynic, I don't know. But I do know that it does make an awful lot of sense, from my point of view. And perhaps it doesn't have to apply solely to true artists; perhaps the same goes for average people with Internet access.

Well, I'm happy. Life has turned around in the most unexpected ways since March, and I didn't see it coming – not even when it was less than a foot away.

Not that I was unhappy before, far from it, my life was already pretty good. I just wasn't this happy.

And in being this happy, I, sorry to say, forgot all about this blog.

That is: until a chance remark by my great friend M.H. made me think; that remark, along with one of his own posts on his blog, and a comment by my other great friend Rick provided me with writing material.

Maybe I'd hit a writer's block because I was happy; maybe I'd hit a writer's block but didn't care about it cause I was happy. Maybe I was happy because I'd hit a writer's block. How many more combinations of “I'd hit a writer's block” and “I was happy” are there? Can I say “I'd hit a writer's block” and “I was happy” three times fast?

...no, I can't; in my defense, English is not my mother language.

The word we're all looking for now is: anyway.

Anyway, I now know what I want to say here, and I shall soon say it. Not right now, though, cause this preamble is far too long already.

But I've found my will to ramble about life again – whilst being happy, which I had not thought possible.

Alas! I may not be a true artist after all!

*shrugs and closes the door*

Wearing Black (or: I'm Not Bad, I'm Just Danced That Way)

She’s the one they think of. She’s the real one. Her suffering is always remembered, whereas mine is ignored at best.

It doesn’t occur to anyone that I simply did what I was told to by my father.

He came home one day and announced we were going to the ball at the castle. My heart was in my throat: there had been no balls in my life thus far. He took me to the court and paraded me around, proud, while everyone else admired me.

And suddenly, the crowd gave way to the most handsome young man I'd ever seen. And he looked at me with ardor and passion in his eyes. 

We danced all night, and I saw nothing but  his smile. All around us, I could hear the whispered comments: look how well she dances, how bewitching, how gracious. Never had I been that happy. At the end of the ball, he announced to all the guests we were to be married. Married!

But then, just then, he glanced at the window, and what he saw there made him freeze; I looked: a gorgeous white swan was there, visibly in agony. He let go of my hand and hurried outside, leaving all of us at a loss as to what to do. And as the crowd dispersed, I caught a glimpse of my reflexion in the mirror.

But the girl staring back at me was not myself - but her.

I realized he had mistaken me for her - the one he truly loved. The white swan. All along, he'd smiled at her, promised her eternal love.

My father wasn't around anymore either, so I went home all by myself. And from my window, I saw them meeting once again. I also saw them throw themselves in the lake.

And up to this day I remain by the window, looking. Looking, in the hope my eyes have misled me, that perhaps he's not in the botom of that lake. In the hope that he may knock on my door, promising to love me.

They cry for her, and no tears are shed for the girl in black that remained behind.

The girl in black is but an impostor. Who cares whether she, too, loved?