Girl crushes and rose ceremonies

I won't be discussing Robin Williams' recent death, in case you're wondering. I'm much too self-absorbed for that. I got my own shit to deal with. Although, now that I think about it, it's f*cking sad. I've grappled with depression in the past, and it's no laughing matter, however diligently one may try to mask it with humour.

We can all sit here at our computers, scratching our heads, blogging about it, trying to come up with theories to explain why such a talented man would end his life but we will never fully know why, and frankly, it's none of our business. Our business is to grieve his loss, remember his incredible life and legacy, and allow him the dignity of privacy, even posthumously.

The boyfriend and I recently saw the movie The Other Woman. Based on the preview, it looked like your typical romcom, some good 'ol brain candy. In other words, we had low expectations. However, I gained a whole new respect for actress Leslie Mann. Girlfriend carried this film and delivered a jaw-droppingly funny performance. I already liked her as an actress but now she may be added to my girl crush list along with Tina Fey.

On my professional crush list, I've recently added screenwriter and TV producer Tom Kapinos (probably best known as the creator of Californication). The writing on that series was so sublimely dirty and delicious, I decided that collaborating on a project with Mr. Kapinos would be the epitome of awesomeness.  

To counterbalance my high expectations of working with writing greatness, the boyfriend and I have been watching Bachelor in Paradise, another new creation of the Bachelor franchise. Basically, a group of hot singles are placed in a Mexican resort to cavort and get laid find true love. There's a rose ceremony every week where contestants who aren't paired up usually get kicked off (one week the girls do the booting, the next week it's the boys), and to keep things spicy, new contestants arrive every week to rock the boat and break up fragile new couples.

What's so entertaining about this show is the difference between men and women and their expectations. Within 48 hours of meeting someone, some female contestants are convinced they've met their future husbands. The men, on the other hand, are all like "Hey, we can hang out but let's play the field, you know, to make sure our connection is real".
 
The best part of this show, as always, are host Chris Harrison's brief appearances. He's all business but you know, on some level, he's in on it. He's ok with being a parody of himself, and I love him for it.

I've been trying to stave off my intense cravings to buy things, most notably clothes. I can barely close my closet as it is but I have this insatiable need to acquire more. I'm aware that it's simply an attempt to fill an abyss of emptiness within and that's what I should really address, but whatevs. I'll get to that eventually. Until then, what's on sale?

The death of TomKat. Who saw that one coming?

I'd love to say "I told you so"... and I will. I saw this coming from the start; from that weird, couch-jumping, fist-pumping spectacle on Oprah. Tom and Katie. It's been a "WTF?" since the very beginning. 

Numerous rumours swirled around these two and how, exactly, they got together. She auditioned and signed a contract to be Tom's 3rd wife. He's secretly gay and she's his front. I mean, who really knows?

But I can tell you what I do know, here and here.

Oh yes, I've followed TomKat throughout their courtship, breeding and subsequent marriage. I wonder if Katie realizes that this divorce will mean the end of her acting career? Because, let's face it, anything she's gotten since hooking up with Tom was, well, because of Tom. 

Remember Katie in Christopher Nolan's first Batman movie? Of course not. No one does. Zero charisma. No talent, for acting anyway. Although, she did play the part of Tom's wife quite convincingly. I'll give her that. And she probably doesn't want her daughter brought up as a Scientologist and I support her in this. One less Scientologist in the world just makes the planet a slightly more sane place.

It's too bad Tom's kinda nuts. He's been around forever, in Hollywood years, and has had some memorable roles, ones I actually liked, for instance in Jerry Maguire and Tropic Thunder. But he's got the religious zeal thing going on, and that's a real turnoff.

Maybe their courtship started out as a publicity stunt since the unveiling of their peculiar relationship took place amidst openings for one of Tom's Mission Impossible movies and for Katie's Batman film. Not that she had any impact in that movie whatsoever but Tom certainly brought some attention to it by dating Katie at a most opportune time. 

It pains me to this day that Katie was cast alongside Christian Bale for Batman. Who does that? Doesn't Christian deserve better? Anyhoo...

I was a bit shocked, but not surprised, at the headline that TomKat were divorcing, and more so that Katie filed for divorce, and not Tom. I didn't think she had it in her since she's been acting like a lobotomized robot for the past five or six years. However, in the last few photos I've seen of them, Katie looked distraught, unhappy.

I guess being married to Tom Cruise ain't all it's cracked up to be.

An ode to Charlie Sheen

Since EVERYBODY is talking about Charlie Sheen and his very public implosion, I thought I'd put my two cents in, 'cause I'm down with the homies, if ya know what I mean. Actually, I don't even know what I mean. It just sounded cool. Anyway... here's a poem, for Charlie. 

N.B.: This little ditty is a combination of fact and fiction. In other words, some of it is true, and some of it is made up so the lines would rhyme. 'Cause I'm cool like that.

An ode to Charlie Sheen

You were born Carlos Irwin Estevez

Such a shy and quiet boy

Loving toy race cars and Pez

The simple things brought you joy

You were a high school baseball star

Making Super-8 films in your car

Then you got kicked out for bad attendance

And swore you'd become an actor as vengeance

You went on to work on Wall Street

And even City Hall

Replacing Michael J. Fox 

Then CBS gave you a call

Cast as Charlie Harper

A character loosely based on you

Two and a Half Men was born

And to you it would be true

Until the day you slammed its creator

When it was evident you were losing your shit

So they canceled the show and called you a traitor

And you resorted to your quick wit

In the meantime you fathered five children

And married all of three times

Now you're living with porn stars, and that's bitchin'

But they took your kids away for alleged crimes

You've trashed hotel rooms and partied hard

And were arrested on Christmas Day

Now the police say you've got to stay in your yard

Via a restraining order, come what may

What happened to you Charlie Sheen

So handsome and so lean

You sniffed too much white powder, got louder and louder

And on self-destruction you are keen

Diary of a Hollywood starlet

Last night, while watching the latest season of America's Next Top Model, during commercial breaks on Dragon's Den (yes, it was our "B" show, and yes, we have adult onset ADD), I was highly disturbed by the extreme thinness of the contestants. 

Sure, they sent one home for being too skinny a couple weeks ago but the current front runner practically disappears when she turns sideways. She is skinnier than a stick figure, and the judges were praising her latest photograph. Said in faux French accent: "This is high fashion. You own that picture." This got me thinking, and no good can come of that.

It reminded me of what seems to be every new Hollywood starlet's story. In that spirit, I present to you a photo diary of a Tinseltown ingenue:

I can't freakin' believe I got discovered! Although I knew it would happen sometime. I mean, look at me, I'm a talented, intelligent, gorgeous, self-assured, voluptuous woman. I ROCK.

Ok, so, um, lose a few pounds. Sure. I can do that. Actually, it's probably good for me. I was a little on the heavy side, and the camera adds like, ten pounds, so yeah, it makes sense. It's a healthy choice. Really, in the long run, it's what's best for me. It's not like it's gonna take over my life. I'm still focused on my career, and my craft.

I am WORKIN' IT! F*ck, I am hot. I haven't eaten in a couple days but I feel great! That Red Bull is kicking in. And smoking has really suppressed my appetite. I could run another mile but, oh God, I'm feeling faint. Gotta stop... out of... breath.... Maybe just a short break, then I'll hit the gym for the afternoon and burn off the celery stick I ate last Monday. What is that, like, 10 calories? Gotta work it off, gotta burn that shit off my thighs. I am a f*cking STAR!

Chewed some sugar-free gum this morning. Ran 2 miles. Had to stop. Head rush. Ran another mile. Had to stop again. Out of breath, heart pounding, feeling weak, might pass out. Could eat half a baby carrot. Then will have to go to gym. Damn paparazzi! They're everywhere! Did they get my good side? The one where I look really skinny in my sports bra and spandex? Do I look perfect? I'm almost there, I know it. Just a few more pounds, and I'll be perfect.

Perfect...

Another Hollywood Casualty

There's no way around this one - it's posted all over the gossip-scape. 32-year-old actress Brittany Murphy died of cardiac arrest. Another Hollywood casualty. It's really no mystery. Young girl comes to La-La-Land with big dreams of stardom, gets a breakout role in a popular movie, then decides she needs to be skinny and blond in order for her career to continue its ascension. 

What's truly sad is that Brittany's death is a symptom of the commodification of young women in Hollywood. They are not actresses but walking advertisements, displaying some impossible ideal of female beauty, getting us regular folk to buy shit we don't need by making us feel inadequate.

Never underestimate the Hollywood selling machine. Sure, only we can let other people make us feel less than perfect. But when you're a young, impressionable teenager, those messages are incredibly difficult to ignore, and even more challenging to shake off as an adult who's been programmed to believe in those ideals. 

There's no concrete info on exactly why Brittany suffered a cardiac arrest at such a young age but I'd hazard a few guesses: eating disorder, drugs, obsession about her position on the Hollywood food chain. Apparently, friends of hers are claiming Brittany had major body image issues. No shit Sherlock. 

Can you blame her? If I was living in L.A., trying to fight my way as an actress into the film industry, I'd probably be voluntarily tossing my breakfast, downing the Joe like I'd stumbled upon a desert oasis and popping pills that made me forget I had an appetite. 

The tragedy here is that women simply accept these standards, without question; standards that weren't by any means determined by them. The result is a sea of bland, homogeneous, skinny blondes with issues, forfeiting talent for that "perfect" look.