BRAINWORKS

Ok.

So it is not advisable to go see Spike Jonze’s Where the Wild Things Are alone. Or maybe you should go alone - just don’t go on a busy night and then have no option but to sit between 2 couples, among a sea of other couples, with no kleenex and nowhere to rest your elbows.
Suffice it to say, things got….weird.
For the record I don’t consider myself much of a crier, with one exception I have never felt comfortable showing emotions in front of others and find it very, very difficult to find the tears when appropriate. But that doesn’t mean I’m not a baby, I am in fact a huge baby- just one with deep seeded feelings of shame and adversity towards showing weakness (see: feelings) to others. Fucked up, right? That said, I cried basically the entire way through Where the Wild Things Are, and after it was over I went to the bathroom and cried some more. I mean definitely not my finest moment, but color me fucking affected- it takes A LOT (see: puppet tears) for me to lose my shit like this. It was just so- beautiful, and quiet, and moving, and I don’t know. It isn’t even much of a story; Where the Wild Things Are is a moving portrait of a child’s loneliness and the darkness that can surround a family; done with the perfect amount of humor and silence. While the book itself is a mere 48 pages (and indeed this movie is done with great respect to Maurice Sendak’s classic) that tells the story of a small boy learning to control his anger, the feature is stretched into a full hour and 41 minute journey following a small boy while he learns to control his reality and the hard truths that come with it. Where the Wild Things Are is packed with human emotion, but without the drama of adult perspective it is subtle and much more poignant. With its sparse dialogue, lush landscapes, and wonderful camera movement every piece of this movie felt perfect, and not only does it abandon the real world it penetrates it - showing Max as he learns that you can never truly leave behind the loneliness and solitude that encapsulate sadness, or the wild things that live there.
A+

Andrea’s Pet Peeves:

Talking on the subway. Ok I’m not crazy, you can talk - but only in the afternoon or evening. And only when you are not squeezed  up against another person with your mouth very close to their ear. Oh and only if you brushed your teeth. I don’t care if your german or whatever and I can’t understand a word you’re saying, take your cues from the other americans hating their commute around you and keep it the fuck shut. Also, if you do speak english and it is past 9am, please consider the content- we may be strangers; but not for long if we keep standing pregnancy close and you are spilling your secrets to your sweaty friend next to me. SHUDDER

When they fuck up my coffee. It’s not rocket science, and as an ex-barrista I expect you to get something as simple as coffee with cream and splenda (I know, whatever) right. You work at a very busy Dunkin Donuts at a very busy subway station and I know you’ve been working there for over a year because I recognize you, how do you not have this down by now?

When people tell me to smile. Maybe my mom just died or like I had dental surgery yesterday, neither of these things have happened but you don’t know that (things would be a lot easier if I could cry on cue and teach some lessons like they do on tv all the time). I mean sure, odds are I’m just tired and don’t want to be wherever I am (work, walking home from a bar, etc…) but as a man (and it is always a fucking penis who tells me this) maybe you should accept the fact that you are not at the center of my universe and therefor I will not smile for you if I don’t feel like it, and especially not upon request.

When people don’t squeeze the sponge dry after they do the dishes. Repeat offenders of this are my Dad and Caroline, I really don’t get why they don’t understand the importance of wringing it out after use. Seriously, I am not made of money and this can prolong said sponges life by WEEKS and ensures the next time I use it I won’t drop it immediately and squeal at how disgusting it is to touch an old, wet sponge. I actually do not mind doing the dishes, my hands like warm water and its usually only a few because I ALWAYS do mine right after use, but it is illogical to use a germy cess pool of rot to get things clean.

Toilet seat up. I may have kind of  fallen in once (or like sat on it and been like “what the fuck happened to the seat?!”). I was drunk and didn’t think to look down and I haven’t got over it, ok? Also I don’t like touching the lid -it has pee on it.

The sound of nail clippers. I can barely bring myself to clip my own nails because the noise is such hell to my ears. Once someone started clipping their nails on the subway and I almost lost it. HELLO THIS IS NOT YOUR PRIVATE BATHROOM THIS IS MY PUBLIC TRANSPORTATION. If I ever kill someone it will be for doing dumb shit like this, I’d write more but I can’t even think about that sound without my skin crawling.

Bad service. I don’t like being waited on in the first place, it’s something I could do myself and really - who am I to have someone bring me my own food? So I like it fast and discreet, I don’t need to know where you are from or your name or have to answer similar asinine questions. But when you take forever, forget my silverware or drink, and above all else have the audacity to get embarrassed about it - my eyes turn red with rage. I mean its not a big deal but food is expensive and I’m hungry so please just give me all the tools to enjoy my meal in peace. Caroline gets really mad at me when I’m like steaming about this because she has solidarity or something because she used to be a waitress, but whatever - if your bad at your job and it affects my stomach I officially hate you.

Slow walkers. The E isn’t running uptown on the weekends, so after work I have to walk all the way to Bryant Park to catch the 7 and it is a NIGHTMARE. Seriously, try and walk down 5th ave on a Saturday evening and not get pissed. Just try it.  IT IS IMPOSSIBLE. STOP TAKING PICTURES  OF THE BUILDINGS, OF EACH OTHER- I HATE YOUR STUPID FANNY PACK OH MY GOD JUST HURRY IT THE FUCK UP I WANT TO GO HOME NOT LOOK AT ST PATRICKS CATHEDRAL OR THE SPARKLY EXPENSIVE WINDOW DISPLAYS. To be fair I don’t think this would drive me as crazy if my job wasn’t answering tourists (dumb) questions all day and having to be super excited they’re on vacation in the best city in the world!!!!! Just let me get to where you are not, please.

When a bar doesn’t have bud light or pbr or a really cheap awesome beer like coors. What the fuck is this nonsense? Cheap beer should be ubiquitous and I fucking loath Amstel Light, it is not good and I am not a middle aged dad ok? I am a young woman trying not to gain 50 lbs with her drinking habit, and I want to be refreshed without having to switch to vodka sodas or some other diet girl drink that is like 2 sips and costs a fortune. Also in that vein; if said cheap beer cost over 3 dollars you belong in jail for robbery.

This could go on and on, but I think I should quit while I’m ahead. But at least now you all have written proof that I am a huge bitch.

To be real: I have a lot of latent anger swimming around. anger at my parents anger at myself anger at god. More than I would like things haven’t seemed to turn out the way I planned or expected- and this has been a disappointing thing. However, I believe that a big part of growing up means learning to live with that disappointment and not letting it spoil the things in life that do provide fulfillment and satisfaction (that sounds like sex, but I’m trying to be serious here guys) but sometimes? Sometimes I am just angry; like today, like now. And even though there are things that are happening at present, or at least very recently and in the near future, that I don’t just feel good about I feel fucking great about- I can’t help but be frustrated because I wish I could be the kind of person that could rage and throw things and just let it loose, you know? Get these festery negative feelings out of me so I can move on to the next thing, like I perceive normal people as doing. Unfortunately the most I could ever muster was punching my ex boyfriend while he was half asleep and to be honest my heart wasn’t that into it, it was really more funny than anything-something I consider to be a failed experiment. I guess what I’m trying to say is that in a perfect world I will express my feelings appropriately and in an adequate time frame, pack my lunch every day to save money, and have the confidence of someone with far larger breasts than god gave me. Dare to fucking dream, right?

Oh and I’m sorry for the call back to live journal circa 2002 (recently perused my old one, I am still cringing) teenage angst. I’ll probably get embarrassed about this later and delete it - but for now I will revel in my immaturity, listen to the Subhumans whilst drinking a few beers, and let this one go. I promise to be funny tomorrow.

(the image above is a John Baldesarri- one of my favorite artists).

Favorite Bars of New York City In No Particular Order (I so get what my mom meant when she said that she loves us all equally):

Pizza Bar / Alligator Lounge 2 / LuLu’s -  The name is unclear, the deal however is CRYSTAL. Free pizza with every beer, $1 each for extra toppings (I recommend bacon), and they are usually playing shitty punk music. A dream come true!  113 Franklin St. @ Greenpoint Ave

Matchless -  I once ordered a dozen wings there and they gave me all drumsticks which, at the time, I thought was the coolest thing that has ever happened to me (I may not be wrong). They totes get me, which is rare for a bar. Also they have a karaoke night which I do not participate but enjoy watching, and there’s usually a cute guy or two I can try and make eyes at but really just make an ass out of myself and feel super weird about. So, in short, everything I want out of a bar and more. 557 Manhattan Ave @ Driggs

Mark Bar - Its definitely divey - and I love dives! They have free popcorn, food I have never tried (but I like the idea that its waiting for me when I’m ready), a decent jukebox, 2 flavors of frozen margaritas in one of those spinning machines (pink and yellow), and its 5 bucks for a shot of bourbon (American whiskey yeck) and a pbr. Also, no one there is remotely attractive which can potentially save me a lot of embarrassment (I may be drunk but I am not BLIND) and once as I was entering my friend pushed me into a bike (ok-maybe not sober) and not only do I still have the scars to prove it, I didn’t even realize I was injured until my other friend reached down to touch my knee (sexy!) and his hand came away covered in blood. If that’s not fucking tough I don’t know what is, and now I have a charming story to tell at parties and family functions! 1025 Manhattan Ave @ Green St

Habitat -  2 words: laaaaaaaaaaaaadies night!!!!!! free waffle fries for ladies, 3 dollar select drafts for ladies, 3 dollar well drinks for ladies, and 3 dollar wine and sangria FOR LADIES. Whenever I go it seems like everyone is there completely by accident; so the night is decidedly sans glitter and tiaras and like boobs out trying to attract dicks; which I’m decidedly cool with. But we still talk about boys and stuff (we just don’t think we need a fucking cosmo to do it ok?), and sometimes they play classic 80’s movies like The Goonies and Police Academy (hilarious!). Also Tuesday is 25 cent wing night and not to brag, I am VERY good at eating wings and this gives me an opportunity to really show my stuff. 988 Manhattan Ave @ Huron St.

Welcome to the Johnsons - The only bar on this list located in Manhattan (fuck you Annex), and prob my fav bar of all time eternity forever. Best, best, BEST juke box known to man. Descendents, Black Flag, Iron Maiden, the Buzzcocks, Johnny Cash, and oh yeah the Descendents. It is my punk fantasy juke box; an orgasm for the ears. See also; cheap pbr / well drinks, awkwardly placed pool table and furniture, gross “unisex” bathroom with a door that doesn’t lock - translation?  heaven on earth. Only downside is a bunch of douche bags that are all like “the lower east side is so edgy lets stop by a few bars this weekend and try and impress girls by telling them we’re actors that live in park slope” go there on the weekends - but honestly I am usually too happy to care and the bartenders are smoking hot and probably in really good bands. 123 Rivington St @ Essex St

The Levee - I dont know; whenever I go there its crazy busy, they have awesome drink specials with beers from Texas paired with cheap tequila, and free cheeseballs. Need I say more? 212 Berry St @ Metropolitan Ave

The Pencil Factory - Perhaps saving the best for last (I know I promised not to play favorites but…) its a neighborhood solid. Great beer selection, even better bartender selection, and an all around good crowd. That thing I said about the bartenders sounds sleazy- but I mean it in a nice way. They are really cool,  sometimes let me pick the music, and Charles will text me and ask me if its ok to cock block Caroline because he thinks some guy is creepin on her- and yes Charles it is ALWAYS ok to cock block Caroline, and for the record I appreciate the big brother rapport. Also the interior is dark and moody and comfy cozy for a cold night, and outdoor seating available for a warm one. Love it. 142 Franklin St @ Greenpoint Ave

I tried to even this out because I like a list with a nice round 10, but my liver isn’t in that bad of shape and to be honest I’m too much a creature of habit to really venture outside of these 7. However my other favorite places to drink include any couch in front of any tv, any place with my friends, and any place I probably shouldn’t (danger buzz!).

I am kind shocked about the Richard Prince / Tate Modern drama involving an image of Brooke Shields that was taken when she was ten years old, not because I think it was wrong of the British police to censor it - but because I think it was right. Prince did not take the original picture in question, rather photographer Gary Gross did in 1975 commissioned by Brooke’s mother Teri; a sad attempt to catapult her daughter’s fame. After the shoot Teri Shields immediately signed away the rights to the photograph and it was soon featured in Playboy magazine- which obviously sparked a lot of controversy- and soon became the subject of an obscenity case, where the judge ruled it was not, in fact, an illegal image. This motivated Prince to then “re photograph” the image in 1978 titling it “Spiritual America”, and is in the style of most of his work  (appropriating iconic American and sometimes shocking images to challenge the context of art in the museum and culture).  This piece was set to be displayed in the Tate’s new show; Pop Life: Art in the Material World, but the image was taken down before the show opened. This fiasco (and it is most definitely) has brought up a lot of issues involving what is acceptable as art, and what is acceptable in a society. In America child pornography is defined by media of a minor in a sexual situation - in the photograph Brooke is merely standing in a bathtub and even though her pose, set, and makeup speak of a sexual nature - technically it is legal. In England however the definition is a little more vague- hence the controversy of displaying Prince’s image in a public space.

I believe in freedom of speech. Brooke wasn’t physically hurt in the making of the photograph and while I do believe she was put in a situation she had no control of and that could be deemed incredibly embarrassing -  her mother had the right to make this (bad) choice and it was and is legal.  What I do have a problem with is Richard Prince’s role in this situation. I understand that there have been many images produced of idyllic naked children photographed in bathtubs and in meadows, pictorialsm that was quite popular at the turn of the century, and while this picture is in obvious reference to that movement it is shattered by the vulgarity of modern cinema and the shock of seeing a young actress displayed as a sexual object. The title choice for the work is “Spiritual America” - an obvious dig at the fact that this picture is legal and therefor permissible in American society (the fact that this photograph was immediately sold,  displayed, and exploited by a popular men’s magazine speaks volumes about our culture) - but what is Prince really accomplishing by showing it again; retitled and blown up? I get that Prince is using this to hold a mirror up, forcing us to look at ourselves as individuals and members of a society but seriously? Damn the transformative qualities of the art context a museum can lend to a subversive image -anyone who looks at this photograph knows that a young girl was taken advantage of (Brooke unsuccessfully tried to buy the negatives back in 1981), and the fact that Prince is perpetuating this under the guise of art is tragic. Obviously her mother is responsible for the creation of this image, but in the act of rephotographing and appropriating it Prince shares in that responsibility and is just as guilty of exploiting a ten year old’s sexuality (and I suppose the curators have a piece of this pie as well)- no matter how old or famous she is today.  When it works; controversial imagery in a museum can be a vehicle for dialogue and change in a society, but I think that this is not the case. There is no success in this controversy, it is way too after the fact and sadly, still at the expense of a woman who has never had a say. Being labeled as art and displayed in a famous museum does not validate or provide a cover for inappropriate and offensive work- and putting a child’s body in a sexual context is a big deal, one that transcends the purpose of pushing the boundaries of modern art.  I actually really like Richard Prince’s work and how it can challenge the paradigms of American culture but this? This is too much. I am interested in what the curators have to say about their display choices but honestly, I hope it stays down.

5 Reasons Why I Am Still in High School:

1. Not only can I not talk to boys that I like without being awkward and strange, I nurture weird obsessive crushes on them. You know the ones; and only on dudes that have no idea who I am- a quality I still find irresistible.

2. Secret reading. I used to get in trouble a lot for reading under my desk in math class, and now that I am a “grown up” with a “real job”  I am often hiding in corners and crouching behind weird screen things in the back office just so I can fit in an extra chapter. I am a nerd, some things never change.

3. My diet. pizza, candy, chips -

4. Celibacy. I mean not forever, but seriously? DRY SPELL

5. How do I put this simply. I HAVE NO FUCKING IDEA WHAT TO WEAR EVER. dear god it is still really hard getting dressed in the morning, and due to numbers 1 and 4 on this list- the pressure is ON.

5 Reasons Why I Am Not Still In High School:

1. I have an apartment, a job, and a college degree. like, duh.

2. I don’t smoke weed really, ever.  I know this is uncool, but its illegal (I look bad in stripes) and expensive and ever since college getting high has made me super insecure and curious about my hands- which is not exactly a party, know what I’m saying?

3. I can drink (legally) at bars. And do. Often.

4. I’ve had a few boyfriends, 3 to be exact. Boys that I actually liked and probably wouldn’t be too pissed if they wrote a song about me (this is in reference to my first and only boyfriend in high school, that the new and old me could eat for fucking breakfast).

5. I love my family, am pretty cool with my parents, and relish spending time at home. The drama has finally ended, and they cook for me!

Things I love about Fall:

-I get to wear my leather jacket. I’m not sure if you guys are familiar with it but its fucking tough and one time my roommate bob told me he didn’t like the jacket not because it doesn’t look good on me (it looks AWESOME) but because he didn’t like the idea of the leather jacket and the time in my life it represents. I’m kind of unclear on what that means but if that’s not badass I don’t know what is. Oh and also it adds a punk twist to everything I’m wearing, and rocking it with my work duds when I’m outside yelling at Italians to (for the love of god) step forward etc.. I am perceived as someone they shouldn’t fuck with, or at the very least, someone not to be peppered with stupid European questions.

-A warm drink on a cold day. Usually this beverage is coffee, but hot cider is extra super special, my mom rules at hot cider. Drinking a hot coffee without sweating like a baby pig (ew summer) is priceless and not taken for granted. Also it warms your hands and that is GOOD.

-As previously stated, Halloween is my favorite holiday. CANDYCANDYCANDY PUMPKIN CARVING ACTIVITIES GALORE and now I’m old enough to drink and wear slutty leotard outfits hazaa! Last year I didn’t do anything except watch a shitty indie film and put ear drops in my ex-roommates ears - so this year I have to eat twice as much candy and drink twice as many beers.

-The changing of the leaves is really quite beautiful and living on my own means my slave driver, I mean mother, can’t make me rake the lawn!

-Pumpkin Ale. For the record - I don’t like it when people fuck with my beers. I can barely handle a Belgian wheat - so I really do not like the taste of flowers, fruit, or chocolate polluting my brew. However, pumpkin ale is my one, delicious exception. SO GOOD I WILL DRINK YOU FOREVER

-I can use my blankets again. Cuddle bunnies like warm little beds with nice little books - extra points if it is dark and stormy out.

-My hair deflates. Thanks to caroline I will always be insecure about my curly locks and it is unmanageable and huge during the summer months. But fall through winter grants a nice reprieve and sometimes I can even run my fingers through it!
-And in that grain - fall means I do not feel like a bar of soap in the subway that will squirt to the ceiling when squeezed between 2 other sweaty bodies. nyc is fucking gross sometimes.

-ummmm what else…. THANKSGIVING IS FUN TOO. and then its almost winter then almost christmas and then almost spring (which i hate) and then summer again!!! the cycle of life is oh so wonderful. Miracles!

Halloween means leotards and leotards mean I NEED TO LOSE SOME WEIGHT STAT.
Here’s the plan:

1. I’m switching to light beer, well mostly. I realize that quitting drinking altogether would be more productive but I’m not perfect ok? Liquor would also be a smart choice but I can barely afford my tequila habit as it is and if I went full time its possible I would end up dead or worse - broke. Where’s the fun in that? This really won’t be hard because Bud Light is the refreshing nectarine of the gods.

2. Maybe I should not eat a chicken quesadilla every day slathered with sour cream and guacamole. But I’m not sure if this is possible, Stage Star Deli counts on me. They love me so much they give me a free soda - and I CANNOT and WILL NOT turn my back them, they are awesome.  Maybe the extra thinking about whether or not I should eat it will burn more calories?  I hear that guilt is very slimming

3. Limit to 1 donut a week - 2 TOPS. Donut coffee cart is the best part of my morning! They love me there too! So it will be sad to go there less but its not called a fun out, its called a work out - sigh.

4. Exercise in new and different ways. I already run like 40+ miles a week (which begs the question why is there fat on my body in the first place, the answer? there is no god and I prob eat too much cheese) - but I used to do crunches so maybe I’ll start doing those again. Of course I will do them in the comfort of my own home because curling up in a fetal position and whimpering while my face turns beat red as I struggle to do the 5th sit up is NOT HOT. and I am VERY SINGLE. Ladies, can I get an amen?

5. Walk more! Instead of shouting at my sister that she has a choice between paying rent or getting me a glass of water THIS INSTANT I will get it myself. I will log miles and miles on my daily pedometer! yay

6. I need to stop going to bars that give me a free pizza with every beer. It is my kryptonite, I CANNOT say no to free pizza - it is against nature. I always go in there with the best intentions to imbibe liquids only but the scent of melted cheese is intoxicating and I can’t resist! Maybe I’ll get the pizza but seriously NO BACON THIS TIME OK? even if it tastes like a heaven that is so heavenly it is only for angels. NO.

7.  I will smile more. I know this probably wont help me fit into my skintight costume, but I think its a good idea anyways. People think I’m a bitch and if this weight loss plan doesn’t work I’m going to have to fall back on my personality to get people to like me. which is NOT IDEAL

8. Make Caroline fat. I know this won’t help me lose weight either but I will look so  petite and lithe in comparison! She’s probably going to be mad that I even wrote this, but Caroline I SWEAR ice cream will make you feel better and if its half the fat you can eat twice as much!

9. Stop planning /talking about opening a bakery named “Donutdios” (cute right?) and inventing various twists on dessert and pizza. It is counterproductive and pastry experiments require a lot of taste testing. This can wait til’ after Halloween.

10. I will have more sex - it burns calories! I really, reallllllly hope this one works out because my future is starting to like a fat nun and that is  not cool.

Ok, I know this is a major life style change but I feel good about this guys! I bet all the extra typing totes burned at least a couple hundred calories so maybe I should start blogging more too. I can’t wait until October 31st when everyone will ask me what my secret is and whether or not I’m anorexic while I drink 100 beers and eat 1000 fun size candy bars. FUN!

The fact that Final Destination 4 was even made is an interesting move on Hollywood’s part, because the first 3  were kind of the same story with the same result, the fourth being no exception (*spoiler alert*) :

A group of rag tag kids are at an event or on the way to an event when one of them has a premonition of a disaster of epic proportions. This happens within the first ten minutes of the movie and is basically the reason why we all paid 12 dollars - the special effects ARE AWESOME. Once this part is over the protagonist realizes it was not just any daydream and tries to warn his or her friends of their impending doom. The slut of the group scoffs and it takes some hysterical freaking out to get them kicked out or stalled - thus saving them and a few bystanders from DEATH who apparently has a hard time letting things go. The rest of the movie is about them realizing that Death is totes pissed that they got away and through a serious of elaborate  booby traps he plans to take them back IN FUCKING STYLE (Death is apparenly very good at that game Mouse Trap). Somewhere along they way the gang think they find a loop hole, but surprise! You can’t cheat death and everyone pretty much dies. Roll the credits, cue shitty music.

So how do you get people to see the same movie 4 times? Its a pretty obvious formula of explosions, boobs, and comedy. And while the first 3 were sequels of each other, they were smart enough to increase all these elements making some truly hilarious campy action films that we can all laugh and cringe along with . However the fourth installment in this “series” (this term does not really apply because a series features harbingers of death like Jason that keep returning for more, this just has death which kind of provides a final and absolute plot ending) acts in complete defiance of the fact that it is possible that we saw even one of the previous 3 films and thus ALREADY KNOW THE ENDING. Wait.. you can’t cheat death or “break the chain”? Yeah, that was COVERED, so lets try and be funny about it like the third one ok? 3D is not enough of a twist and if movies continue to put all their eggs in the 3D basket we are fucked. Oh and advertising for 3D movies in a 3D moiver makes absolutely no sense. Like I already bought what you are selling otherwise I wouldn’t even be here. But I digress- remakes are acceptable if the first movie came out. say 30 years ago (Rob Zombie is decidedly not fucking up Halloween and that is kind of awesome), but the 3rd Final Destination came out in like - 2006. For those of you not good at math that was 3 FUCKING YEARS AGO. I REMEMBER OK? I understand this is trying to appeal to new teen audiences, but 23 is not that far off so I’m still almost  a teenager - at least I certainly act like one by going to shitty movies because of explosions in the trailer and the promise of cheating death is dangled in front of me like a FUCKING CARROT. Final Destination 4 was stupid and irrelevanat. A little bit more crativity next time, please. C- (the special effects were, in fact, awesome)