So, I always get teased about eating a plate of corn for a meal. I have this habit of eating for corn for lunch. It seems like a win-win! It’s counts as a vegetable in my Noom app (although, I think it’s technically a starch. It’s a starchy vegetable, right?), I can heat it in this microwaveable bag for like 3 minutes and dump it on the plate. Nothing fancy, maybe a little bit of butter and salt. And it’s healthier than some other available lunches — most notably Shake Shack burgers and fried chicken. I love fried chicken ( I have yet to find the fried chicken to rule them all. I had to take a break because I need pants to fit).
When I first got teased for it, I was living in DC I think. Sharon’s plate of corn, as they called it. But when I had different people comment on it at different jobs, I knew it was something that was probably an atypical meal.
I also have had spaghettios for breakfast and chopped roasted potatoes for dinner. I wonder if it’s a socioeconomic thing? When I was younger, I was given $5.00 a week to eat lunch. Well, when flaming hot cheetos is $1.07 (99 cents but 1.07 after tax), so I could afford 4 flaming hot cheetos for the week. Anyway, I figured out that you can have 3 top ramens for 99 cents, a can of corn for like 50 cents, spaghettios for like 65 cents. Something like that. I pretty much ate alone most of my elementary school year, 7th and 8th grade. 9th grade, I somehow made friends and gravitated from one eating group to another (that’s a different story). So, when I think cheap, easy meal…hello plate of corn!
What do you think? Am I the only person who does this?
When I heard this was about ballroom, I was like, there’s a thing with the waltz and the cha-cha-cha? The ballroom scene was jaw dropping to me. Before I insult it, here is the wiki definition:
Ball culture, drag ball culture, the house-ballroom community, and similar terms describe a young African-American and Latin American underground LGBTQ+ subculture that originated in New York City, in which people “walk” (i.e., compete) for trophies, prizes, and glory at events known as balls.
So Legendary is a ball competition for a subculture I didn’t even know existed. The closest thing I’ve seen is probably the musical ‘Rent’ — something I saw in London, loved immediately and didn’t know if Angel was a man, woman….something in between? Didn’t matter, Angel’s voice was amazing and when his bf sings about his death, I always cry (…. sweet kisses, I’ve got to spare, I’ll be there and I’ll cover you….wooooaahhhhh). I think I looked it up later and found out he was gender-fluid.
Anyway, the first 5-10 minutes of ‘Legendary’, I spent really trying to wrap my head around if that person was a man or woman, what were their biological parts, how do they know, etc etc. It wasn’t until I got over my biological gender hang-up that I started to really enjoy the show.
What I was afraid of is what I fear for any minority culture — praising mediocre work just to get the minority into the mainstream. If we are going to shine, it really has to be our best work. Probably why it’s so threatening to whomever hold the white superiority complex, but I think great art comes from great pain, whether we like it or not. I guarantee you if you gave third world countries a million dollar budget, we would see the most amazing art the world has ever seen. But the idea that you are born lucky means that you are superior is bullshit.
Anyway, that’s a whole different post. Back to Legendary. The judges really do make the show at this point. They’re very opinionated and shared a lot of the same views when I watched a mediocre performance versus a standing ovation performance (or it seems, clapping with your fingers and/or snapping seems to be the ultimate compliment). That’s why I was never really into The Voice. It just seemed like a bunch of back up singers with great pipes but missing that sumthin’-sumthin’. For me, it just sounds like mimicry and not like you are living that song in that moment. I think that’s a key to a great performance.
Law Roach is very specific and was responsible for that amazing Zendaya with dreads number (when I started paying attention to her, quite frankly) and realized he was an envelope pusher for a lot of great styles I’ve seen on those entertainment channels. The thing I like most about him is that his fashion choices always make you think….about gender, beauty, dynamics and class. Meghan Thee Stallion and Jamila Jamel I think represents the audience at large and the best of them all — Leiomy Maldanaldo — is the ultimate overall critic. She is one of the most beautiful people I have seen and she doesn’t perform until the LAST EPISODE and you’re like….holy shit, the expert is showing us how it’s done. I love that shit. Also, her outfits are like the most amazing! I wish I could wear that to work everyday. I wonder if I could pull that off. Hmmmm….
First of all — the judges are critical but encouraging. They’ll say why whatever sucked and how to fix it for their next performance. Second of all — it feels like the first competition where there really is no extreme advantage with your gender nor race. Third of all — being surrounded by people who are accepting of every shape, size, gender ID…etc…is so inspiring. It’s how I feel the arts should really be like instead of the same vanilla straight guy narrative we’ve been choking down the past 100 years or so.
Anyway — if you want to see some groundbreaking, amazing (reality!) television, check out Legendary.
Rating: Doritos type binge watching. (I think Doritos is the most addicting chip, which is why I never eat it).
Event Horizon — I couldn’t even sleep with the lights on.
Thriller by Michael Jackson — I haven’t been able to watch werewolves movies since. I ALWAYS watch it behind my fingers.
The Babadook. It’s so good that I want to watch it again but too scared to do it.
Pumpkinhead — Lance Reddick doing Pet Sematary shit with his son. NO THANK YOU SIR!
Blair Witch Trial — children looking down in corners creep me out.
Movies that tried to be Scary
Children of the Corn 3 — first scene…two teenagers are making out in a corn field and then the girl says…hold on a sec, something is poking my back…..AHHHHHH! It’s a severed hand! CHILDREN OF THE CORN 3 TITLE CARD.
Poltergeist 1 or 3 — whichever movie that has the boyfriend of the older sister…there’s a scene where he falls in a puddle in the garage and when they pull him out, they ask where the baddies are and he says…in the garage…IN THE GARAGE….IN THE GARAGE!!!! *sobs*
Birdemic — Was this supposed to be scary or funny? Like, go all the way in a specific direction.
Everything after the original Scream. The original Scream was awesome for it’s meta-examination of scary movie tropes….then becomes a parody of itself. Should’ve just stuck to the first one Wes Craven (I have a feeling this is some studio exec’s decision though).
How I imagined my first college roommate would be. DUMB.
1999. I had just gotten accepted at NYU Tisch and was in disbelief that my music video with the ejaculating fish had passed the admissions test. Or maybe it was my scene where I had my friend Randy breaking up with Drew Barrymore. Either way, I would finally move out of my parents house in San Diego and move to New York…I can FINALLY have a roommate.
I had this fantasy of becoming BFFs with my new roommate and it’s something like ‘A Different World’ … where everyone is funny and gets along.
WRONG.
I was assigned the 21st floor of a 26th Street Apartment in the Lower East Side. The fact that a) I had an nyu.edu email and b) I could say something like ‘the Lower East Side’ and actually know what I’m talking about made me feel ultra cool. I had started some preliminary emails with my new roommate. I think her name was Crystal. I had imagined this skinny, goofy blonde girl….maybe with freckles, hopefully with glasses or braces. Maybe she’ll be a popular girl type and will give me one of those Rachel in the ‘She’s All That’ movie where I am magically hot with the proper haircut, makeup and outfits. Maybe she would teach me to how to bring the boys to the yard because no boys knew I had any yards in the first place. All the positive stories I had written in my mind. She said she would bring the microwave and I would bring the….radio? I forget.
After flying across country with one suitcase full of as much of my stuff I could bring with me (my parents didn’t approve of me going to film school, so I pretty much had to do everything myself), I dragged my ass to the Super Shuttle, listened to my discman for 3 hours until I was dropped off to my new dorm, waited 4 elevator trips until I got to my room (there was weirdly 2 elevators for 28 floors. Like, WHAT?) and found my tiny apartment. I open the door. It’s a 600 sq foot apartment for 4 females. I was the second to arrive. I open the door with my name taped on it and see that Crystal had already gotten settled. She had claimed the bottom bunk (we had bunk beds…which incidentally, I was excited about because — roommate fantasy of pillow fights and gossip) and therefore, I had the top bunk bed. She had placed the television in the middle of our dormitory desks (provided by the university. Thanks, cause I got NOTHING) and her clothes was hung in half of the closet. I didn’t even have hangers, so it didn’t matter.
Crystal came home and she was NOTHING like I imagined. She was dressed like a gangster — big shirt, baggy corduory jeans, Adidas sneakers, blonde curly hair that went down her back, super pale with dark eyeliner that seemed to be traced around her eyes multiple times. Her voice was low.
“Hi, I’m your new roommate”
“Hi. My parents already came and moved everything. When are your parents coming?”
“Oh. They’re not…here. They’re in California. I just have this suitcase” and point to a battered old grandma looking suitcase that wanted to be put out to pasture to die with the other old suitcases.
Uncomfortable silence. Uh-oh. The smiles and laughter of my fictitious imaginary sleepover party was vanishing away. I didn’t realize that I might have somebody who had the personality of a tree stump. Only to find, that our time together will get worse.
I saw the movie first and read the book second. Here are some questions I THOUGHT the book would answer:
Does Kristen Wiig have a bigger backstory in the book? — Nope.
Does Childish Gambino have a bigger backstory in the book? — Nope. He also pops up and disappears in the movie, just like he does in the book.
Does Matt Damon really talk that much science in the book? — He does and it drones on and on and I’m like, get to the action already! I’m not an astronaut.
How about the ending? He doesn’t end up at a school. I actually don’t quite remember what happens in the book. I think…they all just return home and the captain likes disco….the end.
I expected more ABBA. Disappointed on both fronts in the movie and in the book.
Do we think Matt Damon lost all that weight? Or RDJ – Avengers – Endgame CGI?
Some award should be awarded to Matt Damon pulling out that metal thing and auto-stitching himself. I never quite believed it in Terminator 2.
Overall, the movie has high replay value. I don’t expect to read the book again because Ridley (we’re pals, Ridley and I) did a pretty good job covering the tone and the characters. The secondaries were wasted (except for Gambino’s trip…I was like…was that on purpose?) but the captain, the crew and Matt Damon are all loveable.
Ranking / Rating — (I haven’t figured this out yet, so I’m going to make it up along the way) Three out of Four Beatles.
Minimal Effort 