Godammit, I’m Mad!

If you haven’t seen The Big C, it’s a Showtime series about a spunky woman who has cancer.  A subplot features Gabourey Sidibe as a teenager whose boyfriend is a Russian immigrant, played by Boyd Holbrook, a popular male model and houseboy-quality hottie.

Every single time this couple appears in a scene, I can’t help but mutter, “As if” or “Oh please.” I don’t know how my husband can stand it.

I feel like if you’re not blind, you can see that Miss Sibide is too fat. She’s too fat to be healthy and too fat to be attractive. Maybe she’s a wonderful human being but she’s too damn fat.

Does the show want to make a statement about tolerance? Do we have to pretend that we don’t find the relationship absurd? Is it meant to challenge our “comfort zone?” For me, it only challenges my suspension of disbelief.

While it’s not fair that women are pressured to be thin, does that mean no one is too fat?

It doesn’t help that Miss Sibide’s acting is so awful in this role.  I’m sure she was phenomenal in Precious, but when she drones “You just want to get into my pants!” like she’s reading the phone book, I can’t help feeling she was cast primarily to irritate or disturb us. And it worked!

Thoughts or recriminations?

I have always hated Dr. Phil, even without seeing his show. It’s just unconscious knowledge that he is a jerk.

This week, everyone on TV is talking about him because of his interview with Casey Anthony’s parents.  He’s been pimping his show with the Anthonys everywhere. And in one discussion, he agreed that the Anthonys had “a menagerie of excuses” for their daughter’s conduct.

ENGLISH,  MOTHERFUCKER! DO YOU SPEAK IT?

Menagerie is a collection of animals, you fucking idiot Dr. Phil! You can find some online dictionaries that say you can also use it to mean a diverse group of things, BUT YOU CAN”T BECAUSE IT MEANS ANIMALS.

Words matter, remember?

Have you heard anyone misuse a word recently but you couldn’t kill them? Feel free to share your pain.

I’m excited about (i.e. dreading) tonight’s debate among the Republican presidential candidates.  For those of you who plan to watch, what’s the drinking word??

Does anyone remember when I was obsessed with leather shorts?

That was another me who is long gone. But check out Yoko Ono wearing leather shorts at the Canne Film Festival! What an early-adopter she was.

It’s a relief to stop caring about the latest trends. The more fashion-conscious one is, the more anxiety one must contend with, and that is what generates billions of dollars for the fashion industry. The anxiety can only be relieved by shopping, and even then it’s a momentary relief. Every fashion layout or editorial is a trigger, causing new anxiety.

I have no idea of the new trends! Is it wide trousers or narrow or bright colors or patterns or tailored or retro or ladylike or boho or menswear-influenced? Are we still wearing studs? Are shoes still more important than handbags? Do the blogger girls still go on about Celine?

I think that at a certain point, we all know what we like to wear. People who insist that they love to “experiment” with fashion are just excusing themselves for needing to shop. But that’s okay with me.

I’ve traded my fashion-driven anxiety for a more fundamental anxiety about my body.  It’s much cheaper.  And all the time I once spent looking at fashion is now squandered on tumblr, a paralyzing addiction that has turned me into a vegetable.  At least it doesn’t involve my credit card.

I think it’s safe to say that the fashion and beauty industries are based on insecurity. They must constantly appeal to and promote our insecurity in order to satisfy their shareholders.  But my depression has suppressed my insecurity.  I think this is a benefit.

I’m hoping that Michelle Bachman and Mrs. Palin will provide some joy for me in the coming months, joy that for the moment is mostly supplied by the Real Housewives and the Casey Anthony murder trial. It’s a perverse joy that springs from the sheer staggering awfulness of horrible people exhibiting their horribleness.

Max used to love watching Sean Hannity on Fox news, and it drove me nuts. Now I remember the happy smirk on his face and I understand: When the usual things in life fail to bring pleasure, the theater of human stupidity is a valuable diversion.

Even though we’re sick of him, admit it, we’re not through with him.  There’s already an app to block out Sheen and Sheenisms, so you’ll never have to see his name or face again online.

At the same time, there is a craving for more, for some escalation of his madness and for a resolution that one hopes will be somehow shocking but not involve him blowing his head off on TV.

What does Charlie Sheen do for us, do you think? Is it a simple distraction from our own problems or the problems of the world? Is it some primitive need for human sacrifice? Is it the perverse satisfaction of watching a privileged Prince turn his own life into tatters? Is it his need for attention that repels us, even as we give in to him?

I never gave a shit about him before. None of my family has watched his TV show until this week, just to confirm that it’s truly, inexcusably awful.

But now I need something from him and I’m not sure what.  I feel like a Roman waiting for the lions or something. It isn’t going to be anything good, that seems clear.  Maybe he represents human nature at it most base and out of control.  Maybe he needs to act out our secret fantasies of going insane.

If you have any insights, lets hear them!  I’ll say one thing:  I have no interest in a Sheen-blocking app, but make one for Lady Gaga and I’m there!

There aren’t really stages of grief, there’s just a big rupture and then a big mess of denial, anger, shock, guilt, etc. etc etc and none of it is orderly. Right now I’m in a state of disbelief and I’m guessing it’s adaptive, to keep mothers from flipping out.

I am seeking solace anywhere I can find it but I can’t listen to the news or look at fashion.

I’ll tell you what’s good: TV.

TV is a great panacea and pacifier. Reality TV is best. Crazy “Housewives” screaming at each other is like manna from heaven. My husband and I are taking comfort there. Scream and fight, Housewives! Never stop!

True Blood worked for me but not so much for my husband. He’s just not gay enough, I guess. When Sam and Eric eyed each other up, the thrill was electric, wasn’t it?!? Eric’s butt was too small for my taste but on the whole it was a yummy festival of hot gayness.

TV is my church and I will worship there. My bed is a place to hold Max’s stuffed animals from his babyhood. My fridge is stocked with weird leftovers from the meals brought over in sympathy.  My tolerance for idiots is being severely tested. My gratitude for kindness is fine-tuned. I can report that aside from TV, you really, really need friends.

Love is all that matters. Remember how we learned that before? It’s easy to forget. I’ll try to remind you, and you can try to remind me.

Most recently, Sea was thrilled to acquire a garish coat that matched the dowdy skirt she had earlier obtained from a shop in Dallas. Now she can wear them together and look like a kooky bag lady from the 70s.

More important, in my opinion, is the price of her new brogues, pictured above. Barneys is nice enough to send me catalogues even though I never go there, and now in the latest catalog, uh-oh,  Sea’s shoes, priced at $795. No wonder she was so excited when they arrived!

Sea and Mom show no signs of slowing down this frenzy of spending. It’s not Sea’s fault, though. She is the Bristol to Mom’s Sarah. She hasn’t had a chance to learn anything about anything. If only Mom would let her watch TV! I don’t believe for a minute that Sea’s other blog is her own project. The nudity, the KKK, the horrible fish. It seems like the work of a demented pedophile.

Oh well. Sea doesn’t want to hear your comments, but you can leave them here anyway. I’ll go first:

Dear Sea, Why those Comme des Garcons saddle shoes for $795?? Remember you just got those Givenchy flats for $450! It’s good that you’re not worried about money but it’s also good to just “live.” (That’s the stuff people do when they’re not shopping or posing or tweeting.) I don’t think I’m ever going to get through to you but I’ll keep trying.  Maybe you should read Gravity’s Rainbow again. Bye for now, love, SW.

As you probably know, Sea of Shoes is very busy getting ready for Christmas, and she even helpfully explains that “Thursday is Christmas Eve, Friday is Christmas…“  The girl is sharp as a tack, you have to hand it to her.

She also offers an awkward English translation of an article about her in Elle France, called ‘A Day With Jane.’ It’s a  delightful account of Sea’s high-powered life, which revolves around her daily “blog duties,” and of course, her mom. She confides that her school was too conservative for her, too Texas.  The biggest surprise is that the Sea household is without a TV. Mom and the girls have to watch old episodes of ‘Dynasty‘ on a computer!

What is more disturbing: That this family actually does take its fashion cues from Dynasty, it wasn’t just a mean mental judgment you were making? Or, that they don’t own a TV?

Here is your opportunity to leave a comment for Jane.  I will go first.

Hey, Sea! I am worried about that mole above your ankle and I want you to show it to your dermatologist. I don’t want to scare you but it should probably be removed, just to be on the safe side. xo SW

P. S. Tell Mom or Dad to get you a TV. People dress so different now! You’ll love it!

There are too many names out there, and it’s getting way too hard to keep up. Who are these John and Kate people who are now having marital problems?

I saw one of them on TV last night, and she was sporting an old school Posh Spice asymmetrical hairdo. What is her point with that, can somebody fill me in? Is she married to a Hawaiian guy, and if so, why? Also, who do they have so many kids? Is it an Octomom kind of deal or just too much fertility drugs?

Also, who is Lauren Conrad? Pictures of her look just like Lindsay Lohan, right? Who is Audrina? Who is Tinsley Mortimer and for the love of god, who is Talor Momsen? I keep seeing these names as though I’m supposed to know who they are!  Oh wait, I know who Taylor Swift is, I think. Is she the girl who plays guitar but can’t sing?

I know who Heidi Montag is! She married some guy and everyone hates them. (I’m just proving that I know some of this shit.) And I know that Hayden Panti-something has an enormous head and looks  middle aged but is really quite young.

Are all of these people on the same TV series? Why are they all blond? Why do some of them have clothing lines while others don’t?

Oh no, one more just popped into my head…Whitney Port or Something Whitley? Make them Staaaaahp, Bethenny!

I was surprised to find my self addicted to The Tudors, on Showtime, which just had its season finale last week.  It seemed pretty stupid the first time I watched it. That Jonathan Rhys Meyers is such a terrible actor. He seems to think he’s playing Elvis most of the time, or else he’s just glaring insanely. And I’m not really interested in historical drama.

What drew me in was the unforgettable face of Natalie Dormer as Anne Boleyn. She has what I consider a pig nose, in the best sense of the term. It’s so turned up, you could look right into it. And she held that pignose high, even into death. ( At least I think she did, because I had to close my eyes for that.)

Every Sunday night, I curled up on the couch to see that nose. The production values were excellent, the costumes were beautiful, the plot was full of intrigue, but for me it was all about Natalie Dormer. Her trajectory from devious minx to a deeply tragic figure was so gripping, and superbly acted.  And at the center of her performance was her nose.

I miss her already. I couldn’t care less about Season 3. They’re all dead to me now.