Theme Song 2k8

I thought for a few hours that I had pinkeye. I don't. Turned out to be a reaction to the mascara that ran into my eye after a challenging night at Club 2me. It is a tradition here in Sacramento, especially among Catholic school alums home from Chico/Cal Poly/LMU/Santa Clara for the holidays, to spend Thanksgiving Eve at Club 2me, a notorious East Sacramento dive bar. For reasons best explained by my facebook wall post (see left), I have declined to attend/tried to avoid/boycotted this event for the last 5 years. Feeling new boldness brought on, undoubtedly, by recent practice at this sort of thing, I decided to attend. You see, in the last two months, my social life has evolved (or devolved, depending on perspective) in a direction probably very typical of most people my age finding themselves back in their home town: on Friday and Saturday night I put on eye makeup and something too short or tight (quite a diversion from my usual), go out to bourgie bars to push through a sea of blue buttoned-down and Axe body-sprayed individuals towards a Vodka soda (or a shot of something that could be radioactive), then attempt to drink it quickly yet demurely whilst chatting with about 5 people from high school that were not my friends at the time but who are now staples, all the while wondering how the evening will play out in terms of flirtations, levels of inebriation, sleeping arrangements, and just what, exactly, will show up on the internet the next day to remind me of my fun if the headache and puzzling text messages fail to do so. To recap:

What I've Been Up To Lately:
  • losing my identity in a shallow pool of alcohol
  • attending a sort of weekly high school reunion
Mostly I'm just thrilled to be making intermittent eye contact with humans. It's been fun experimenting with a lifestyle that I never really tried in college. I do, however, find myself hankering after something more, or maybe something else. The casual levels of interaction made available through the bar scene, and the sort of defensiveness necessary to maintain that casualness is dissatisfying. This, and the desire for something (someone?) to add meaning is described perfectly by Roxy Music in "Mother of Pearl." I think of it as my theme for 2008. Skip the first 1:37 mins, unless you're like me and want to drink in Bryan Ferry for longer.

The search for perfection, your own predilection goes on and on and on and on...

What's your personal theme song for 2008?


Origins: My Name

One of my favorite talking points with my childhood best friend was that we were both named from The Thorn Birds, her after the main female character, Megan, and me after the actress who played her in the successful 1983 television miniseries, Rachel Ward. Our television origins (and zealous, competitive collecting of Garfield memorabilia) formed the crux of our inextricable best friend bond.

Best friend has since disappeared and I've since read the book several times, and am currently watching the miniseries as it's airing on Lifetime Movie Network.

I don't want to expose too much just in case you are poised there with your remote trying to OnDemand or TiVo this "event," but allow me to acquaint you briefly with the plot: Inordinately good-looking priest is banished to the Australian outback for breaking vows of obedience, takes forgotten daughter of large farm family under his wing out of pity, watches her blossom into beautiful, desirous woman before his very eyes. So there he is, graying attractively at the temples, wondering "Do I break some more vows or follow my all-too-earthly ambitions towards moving up the Catholic hierarchical ladder and into a handsome red cardinal's robe?" as Meggie/Rachel Ward shakes her sin-scented hair within inches of sniffing distance. If you are enticed at all by the soap-operatic, this book/miniseries is for you. Come on folks--forbidden sex! Getting gored by wild pigs! Barbara Stanwyk as cruel benefactress!

I'm always left with questions after the completion of this story. Namely, "Mom...Dad, what were you thinking, exactly, when naming me after this?" and "At what point did you equate 'taboo temptress' with 'our new baby girl?'"

Also, Megan, where are you? Not on the facebook, apparently. Do you still have your Garfield collection?


New Ways to Forget: Old School and R&B

Pharmaceutical-grade herbal mood stabilizers doing nothing? Up each night trying to silence that gnawing inner monologue with no success? Adopt the lyrics to "Boogie Nights" as your personal credo: "got to keep on dancin', keep on dancin'"--ignore your seasonal depression through incessant DANCE! Swap the word "dancin'" for "drinkin'" if you need to-- just make it your own! Use the following Dream Old School and R&B Playlist as your new guide to happy times!

1. Boogie Nights-Heatwave

2. I Like It- Debarge
3. Get Down on It- Kool & The Gang
4. Mary Jane- Rick James

5. Wishing On A Star- Rose Royce

6. I Wonder If I Take You Home- Lisa Lisa and Cult Jam
7. I Wanna Be Your Lover- Prince
8. Love Come Down- Evelyn Champagne King
9. Tell Me Something Good- Chaka Khan

10. Rock Steady- The Whispers
11. You Dropped A Bomb on Me- The Gap Band
12. No Parking on The Dance Floor- Midnight Star

13. Push It- Salt n Peppa

14. Special Lady- Ray, Goodman & Brown
15. Glamorous Life- Sheila E.
16. Tonight Is The Night- Betty Wright


Subliminal Loneliness, other ad mistakes

There is an ad for a laser skin treatment center that runs daily in my local paper. It has a picture of an attractive, smiling girl and says, in bold, "Reclaim Your Confidence." I consistently misread it as "Reclaim Your Co-Dependence." Yeah...

Also, I word on today's google ad: I'm not sure what about the content of my blog allowed Google to generate a "Yes on 8" ad, but this does not reflect my own sentiments. I am staunchly against Prop 8. Staunch, I tell you!