Tag Archives: mcdonald’s

My Neighborhood on a Grey Day

I was in a funk earlier, so I decided to walk and take photographs of the most depressing/poignant/thought-provoking things that struck me. Here are some of the results: 

Tireless

Tireless

 

Lit

Men

Men

BarbedWireCross

The Chrysler Building

The Chrysler Building

The Empire State Building

The Empire State Building

Toilet

The Toilet

 

ReservedParking

AndJusticeForAll

 

In case you couldn’t tell from the angsty tone…taking these ended up being incredibly therapeutic.  And I think I’ll undertake frequent photographic walks in the coming weeks.  It’ll be really good because…I don’t know if I’ll be in this neighborhood for much longer, so it’s sort of like spending quality time with an elderly aunt in the nursing home who’s on her last leg.  Only better.

Valentine’s Day 2009: Confessions of a chocolate-eating, hulu-watching recluse

Suddenly I find myself overwhelmed, filled with things to discuss about tomorrow’s “holiday.”  When I was in elementary school I decided to make my own valentines for my classmates, only it ended up being really time-consuming and hard, so I didn’t make enough and then I got in trouble.  Alas, I’ve always been mediocre.

Anyway, that’s not what I wanted to talk about.  Actually, I wanted to talk about Marlene Dietrich, the Golden Age screen vixen.  Remember the beyond mediocre Witty Women daily calendar?  Well, today’s quote comes from her.  The first film I saw her in was 1932’s Blonde Venus.  I wasn’t planning on tracking down the clip, but it’s just so offensive and ridiculous that you kind of have to see it for yourself (especially the 2:30 mark).

But you can’t blame Marlene.  (Don’t you love that name?  The woman who trained me at McDonald’s had that name and she was mean and sexy with a Polish accent and she made me cry.)  Over the summer when I was interning at the Library of Congress I worked with a collection related to the Golden Age and part of the collection was a silver cigarette case that Marlene gave as a gift–it was inscribed with her signature.  It was pretty cool and that’s what Marlene means to me.  So here’s the quote:

It’s the friends that you can call up at 4 a.m. that matter.

This quote doesn’t really apply to me…I’m usually still puttering around, wide awake at 4 a.m., but that’s good because it means that anyone can call me at that hour.  Therefore, I matter.  (It’s important for everyone to realize this with tomorrow being Valentine’s and everything.)  

While puttering around last night, I found myself on hulu.  Does anyone else do this?  You rent stuff from the library or the video store, but then you just queue up last night’s Conan or Moonstruck even though a Cher/Nicholas Cage romance doesn’t really do it for you.  So that was me.  I started watching Go.  I had just about come to terms with reuniting with Dawson’s Creek era Katie Holmes when an AXE commercial ruined everything.  I don’t know why I let myself get so distracted by bizarre advertisements.  AXE has been putting out sexist ads for years.  Shouldn’t be a surprise anymore.

It’s been on YouTube since September, but last night was the first time I saw it:

Mainly, I guess I’m just confused.  Yeah, women like chocolate.  But…I feel like I’d just get nauseated if my date reeked of it.  I’d rather receive some actual chocolate.  And enjoy the natural odor of my date.   But then again, I’m listening to my Celine Dion/Bryan Adams/Chicago station on Pandora and reclining on a camping cot in my living room, so what kind of authority am I?

Lastly, while I was watching Ellen yesterday (you’d think I have stay-at-home mom ambitions or something), Steve Harvey presented a theory from his new book, Act Like a Lady, Think Like a Man.  He said that employees at Ford Motors don’t receive benefits until they’ve put in 90 days, so women should likewise refrain from sleeping with men for at least 90 days into the relationship.  Wait before giving away “the greatest benefit of all.”  Don’t you find it funny?  You’ve got Steve Harvey putting that out there, and then you’ve got AXE commercials with girls raping a man made of chocolate.  These mixed messages!  No wonder I just hide out in my apartment watching romantic dramedies from the 80s.