I feel just about this enthused today. Mondays are a challenge under the best of circumstances. I don’t know what it is about today, but today is just not thrilling me.
Today, I feel like drinking all the absinthe out of Toulouse-Lautrec’s private reserve and then staring into space until the barman asks me to leave because I’m making the other patrons uncomfortable.
I don’t like Mondays.
To cheer myself, I decided to revisit with some old friends.
I get to study film, kids! Oh my gosh oh my gosh.
Since finally kick-assing my way to my BA two years ago, I’ve had some more book learning in mind. But with my immense student loans staring me in the face and the lean couple of years we’ve had, taking on more educational debt has not seemed like the best idea.
And then I got a job at DePaul, which cracked the door on those ambitions a little.
And I got a full-time job at DePaul which kicked the door wide open.
I kind of want one if it would take me back to the time when these fabulous commercials would interrupt As The World Turns which I watched in a decongestant haze on the couch while my mom made me buttery alphabet noodles out in the kitchen.
*Thanks to a touch of tuesday weld for the link. Laura, I love your stuff.
There was a time in American history, a dark and unsettling time, when varied and inappropriate persons decided to join in the newest pop culture trend: in other words, white people tried to rap. And too often, they did it in order to sell stuff.
Let’s explore this uncomfortable phenomenon.
First, let’s take a moment to remember what the real rappers were doing in the late 80s. Enjoy Eazy-E, and note that by no means is the song after the fold safe for work:
I hate to see this Month of Madness go, I really do. It’s been hard at time, to sit down for yet another movie, to put D through yet another movie, and to watch yet another movie I didn’t mean to watch at all because the planning of all this got the best of me and I forgot to have something I really, really wanted to watch on hand.
Thanks for dropping by. I'm Meg, and I write offbeat stories about media and the culture that shapes us.
I have one foot firmly planted in today and one in a pink kitchen in a suburb in 1957. It's not that I want to live in the past; I just love the aprons. I also have a thing for horror movies.
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