The Bill Murray Test

I rewatched Groundhog Day a little while ago, and man, what an awesome movie. I especially loved when his character said, "Each day is like the last. And I never know when it ends." Who knew that movie was so philosophic? Who knew that Bill Murray is like God?

On a recent Anthony Bourdain's No Reservations, he had dinner with the great man. Bourdain is one of the biggest talkers I've ever seen on TV. The man has something to say about everything and never shuts up. For the first time ever, Bourdain sat there silent. He was like a fanboy, blushing, grinning, and nodding to every single thing Bill Murray said. And who the hell knew what Bill Murray was talking about? He had some long monologue about the love and art of food and how it looks into people's souls or something. Does it matter if it didn't make sense? Does Bill Murray ever make sense? Nope. But it doesn't matter. Because the man is Bill Fucking Murray. If he wanted to read the bible back to back on film, I'd be the first in line to that movie.

I've decided that everyone in my life must like Bill Murray. How can you not love Ghostbusters? Groundhog Day? Lost in Translation? I didn't love Broken Blossoms, but I stilled love Bill in the film. And if you don't like Bill, don't tell me about it. If you want to maintain a relationship with me, don't ever tell me you don't love one of my favorite actors of all time.

So this is the new test for new people in my life. If you like Bill Murray, I'll get to know you. If you don't, then there must be fundamentally wrong with your sense of humor, taste, and all around concept of what's good in the world. So therefore, sorry, but you're just not worth knowing.

How Short Am I?

This is a largely disputed issue amongst my friends. Just how short am I?

I am quite short. Maybe even shorter than the shortest Asians. My only concern is if I qualify as a technical Little Person (using the correct PC term) or if I want to be un-PC -- a midget. For years, my husband told me, "Sorry, C, I think you qualify as a midget."

Being a bit sensitive about my height -- and laugh as much as you want -- it does suck sometimes to be of the shorter persuasion -- concerts, movies are a freaking nightmare. One tall person destroys a happy and perfect evening of entertainment.

And don't even get me started on seats. Effing seats. They do NOT make seats, any type of seats -- theatre seats, airplane seats, restaurant seats -- none of these are for short people. Wanna know how I know? My feet never touch the damn ground! Do you know how much it hurts to sit for long periods of time and have my feet never touch the ground.

Not to mention the clothes that are never made for us. Have you ever been to the petite section at Macy's? It's like shopping for Grandma's funeral. Only not as chic.

Go ahead, Tall People, rejoice in the thing that is your height.

So, being that I was looking for a random distraction today, I looked up what the Little People of America constituted as a Little Person. It's 4'10". I would like to say that I'm OVER 4'10". Not by much, but I'm almost 4'11". Go ahead, laugh as you will. I threatened to kill my husband if he told anyone. And knowing he would tell everyone the next chance he got -- I'm going to beat him to the punch.

So be it. I'm an almost Little Person. Fuck it. I'm short and proud. I'll say it now. I'll say it loud.

Life Unexpected

For some inane reason I like this show. My heart finds comfort that former stars from Roswell and Dawson's Creek have found more work. Sure, I think Shiri Appleby is a bit annoying. And Kerr Smith wasn't my favorite on Dawson's (Yay Pacey!). But there's something so hopeful about washed up WB and UPN stars that reappear in our lives again (at least from the shows I like). You think that they had they're one hit wonder and will never be seen again, but bam, there they are, still working, still alive. You forgot they existed, but once they reappear, you realize damn, I missed you. And I felt that when I saw Shiri and Kerr on TV. Like long lost buddies I had lost touch with.

But okay -- retarded premise (pretty 16 year old foster child finds her birth parents so she can apply for emancipation) -- but I can relate to the theme of grown ups that still have a lot of growing up to do. Er, not that I would put myself in that category. I am very grown up. (But then again, I thank god every day I don't have a 16 year old child out there that will randomly show up at my door). But once their forgotten kid Lux reappears in their lives, both the bio mom, Cate, and the bio dad, Baze realize, "Fuck. I should drink less. Figure out how to cook. And get my shit together." What New Yorker in their 20s doesn't relate to that?

When I turn the show on, it's like a cup of hot chocolate on a winter night. Something that gives you warm fuzzies when the outside world is going through a bit of a shit storm. Who doesn't need that type of distraction in this day and age?

Midriffs? Why did they ever exist?

It's a sad consequence when I spend half my time watching shows from the 90s that I would encounter the bad fashion sense that plagued me in junior high and high school. I then relive every bad outfit that I ever wore. Why do I put myself through this torture?

Everyone says that every decade of fashion comes roaring back. The 70s, the 80s. I've been dreading the return of the 90s, but already in bars, clubs, and local H&M stores the signs are appearing. Suspenders, bodysuits (why did anyone come up with the idea of a shirt that buttons at the hoo-ha?), I may even have spotted an overall or two. But bleh, midriffs, please don't bring those back.

I understand it must be hard to find ways to dress the female body, but a shirt that looks bad on about 90% of the world doesn't ever seem a good idea. Yes, I know most high fashion looks bad on 90% of the world. But I doubt midriffs will come back into the realms of New York's fashion, but who knows?

For the most part, I just don't miss them. Yes, I wore them. God knows why. Most of the time, I was breathing in every time I left the house, I almost suffocated myself by pretending my tummy was flatter than it was. And my stomach is not as half flat (nor even maybe a quarter as flat) as the one above. Now, watching the horror of midriffs on 90s shows makes me swear that I will never, never suffocate myself again.

Oh, on Miss J-Lo, you're no Late Night

I only know this because it was 2am and for some reason I was watching TBS (late night Sex and the City rerun). But I made this other universe discovery -- Jennifer Lopez aspires to be like a Jay Leno. And that's just odd...

I mean, I guess she has no other projects going on at the moment. But a late night show? An opening monologue. Yeah, I spent a couple of minutes watching it. It was kinda like watching someone else's nightmare. Only in J-Lo's nightmare, she thinks that she's funny. Because she's constantly giggling at her own bad jokes. I half expected her to start singing and dancing. Now that would be entertaining. But just talking? Joking. Oh, no, Miss J-L0.

That ain't a random distraction that's worth my time.

Misha Barton: What Hell Happened to Her?

I know I'm like years behind in watching the OC. I don't really like it. But it's on Soapnet and it follows my "lunch hour" of watching 90210.

What happened to Mischa Barton? She was like the hot young thing of the TV world. She tried The Beautiful Life, but I guess that didn't last long. I think it may have something to do with the model look thing.

She looks too perfect for me to like. Sorry. It just comes from being short and Asian. I seldom liked tall, perfect blond people. And Sweet Valley High doesn't count (yes, I read most of them). Besides, they weren't that tall. She also doesn't seem like the most top notch actress in the world. Maybe it's just me, but I find it hard to pull for the beautiful blond type. Men always dig 'em, the media always wants to look at them.

But maybe being a blond model type is hard. As Kelly Taylor put it, "I was always afraid people wouldn't like me because I'm pretty." Maybe they know that most people resent them and that makes them insecure. Well. Boo hoo. Live with it. If you're smart enough, you know how to rock the spotlight. If people want to look at you to begin with, then make smart choices to keep 'em interested. Reinvent yourself. Or dye your hair. Whatever works.

Yes, my distraction for today is shoveling out advice to a has been actress who will never read this.

Satisfaction -- no, no, not the Rolling Stones! Justine Bateman!!!

If you lived in the 80s, you know of which the film I speak. It's a small wonder of a bad film, that's pretty enjoyable at 3:00am in the morning. I don't know why I can't sleep until late owl hours now. Perhaps it's just because I can. Perhaps it's because I work better when it's dark out and then I feel the need to let my mind numb on bad eighties films.

But wow. It's funny I came across the film since I just mentioned it to the Husband the other day. We were talking about films that are about fictional musicians (having just seen Crazy Heart) and how those movies are rarely good because it's hard to write good music to go along with a good film. Almost Famous and Crazy Heart are exceptions. There may be more out there. I just haven't seen them yet.

And well, Satisfaction (yes, Justine Bateman along with Julia Roberts and a few other unknown actors do a cover of it) the movie is not one of them. But yet, I found myself drawn to the material. Perhaps it's because I have a soft spot for all former actors from Family Ties. (Or maybe it's because I love Jason Bateman and see his face every time I look at Justine.) Perhaps because I grew up watching the film and had no taste back then. (Hey, I thought Twins was the best film in the world). Perhaps I had no idea what good music sounded like.

But the astounding thing about this 3am watching of this movie? I remembered most of the songs! Yes, I've seen it more than once, but really no more than ten times over the last 20 years. Is that enough to ingrain the songs into my head? Yes, the songs were really really really bad. Yes, watching Liam Neeson romance Justine Bateman makes you wonder if Neeson was doing coke when he agreed to do this film. But I went to sleep with Justine Bateman's bad singing voice in my head.

Then I went on IMDB and saw who the writer was -- The good man Charlie Purpura. Charlie was a teacher of mine at NYU and died a few years ago. I had always loved Charlie as a teacher. Maybe that's why I still love this movie deep down.

Okay, now off contemplate more random things. Then work!

90210

My random distractions these past few days have pretty much centered around Beverly Hills 90210 -- the original, mind you, not the new one.

I used to watch the show constantly as a kid. But now, I'm re-watching it, I'm noticing all these things I didn't notice before.

1. Dylan McKay is a douchebag. I was all swoony for him my entire preteen life, but now I see he was a flake, commitment phobe, he kept recycling the same chicks, and he was a smart dude that read Byron but didn't nothing with his life.

2. Why did they feel the need to make up fake drug names? Do you remember the ep where Brandon is slipped a drug at a rave by Emily Valentine? They called it Euphoria, when it was obviously Ecstasy. I don't think there were copyright laws on drug names. Maybe they thought kids would wanna go out and look for "Euphoria" if they saw Brandon stop being a tightward and have a good time.

3. Kelly Taylor had the worst wardrobe once she hit college. It's like they decided to show she was all mature and then put her in hideous high waist pants and neck scarves. Yes, it might have been the style back then, but still. What did Brandon and Dylan fight over again?

4. Why is the dark haired chicks in the 90s always bitchy? If you notice pop culture now, dark haired chicks are totally the sweethearts -- i.e. Bella from Twilight and Elena (the Bella clone) on Vampire Diaries.

Well, those are my random thoughts for today. I'm going to try and work now.