"I have a dog."
Sometimes I find a scene in a movie that seems like a film clip of my own life.
As I’ve been trying to assemble the list of All My Simply Ripping Qualities, I’ve been remembering one of those scenes.
It’s from Slaves Of New York, which I found a charming film and which made me realize that Bernadette Peters really does deserve her fame. Besides, it’s a film decidedly plunked in the eighties…and many have accused your own Cupcake of having dug her heels firmly into that very decade. (Cupcake wears a lot of black clothes and rhinestones, listens to Stevie Nicks, and despite decades of evidence that it's probably not a good idea, has never lost her faith in casual sex.)
In the film, Bernadette’s character is sitting home alone listening to motivational tapes. She lives with her boyfriend in his artist’s loft apartment. (It’s the fact that he is the leaseholder of this desirable space that makes her be the “slave” in the relationship.)
He’s a dickhead, but she loves him. (There’s a filmclip of my life, right there, in six simple words.)
She’s sitting on a swing in the loft, as I recall sitting in the dark, while the film shows us snippets of the boyfriend off having wild sweaty sex with Bernadette’s frenemy.
The voice on the motivational tape booms optimistically: “Say something nice about yourself!”
Bernadette pauses, then offers to the world the following hopeful statement. (Though she offers it hesitantly, almost as a question.)
”I have a dog. (?)”
I’ve think about that scene a lot. Which I shouldn’t admit to you as I am resolved to show up as Someone To Be Admired.
But perhaps I can Be Admired for this: that I am not too proud to admit my flaws, my hesitancy, lack of self-confidence.
I’m still working on this. I am determined that I will start raving about myself on these pages, at least for a while. I want to experiment with it, see what it feels like to look in the mirror and at least pretend to think “Superstah!”
In the meantime…I have a dog. Actually, I have three of them. And they do indeed make me happy. So I am going to go outside and throw a certain stuffed dinosaur around the yard so that Boss and Felix chase it, and little Momo will hover uncertainly at my feet, wanting to play but not really knowing how, and afraid he’ll get damaged in the fray of joyous chaos.
Oh, Momo. How I understand.
As I’ve been trying to assemble the list of All My Simply Ripping Qualities, I’ve been remembering one of those scenes.
It’s from Slaves Of New York, which I found a charming film and which made me realize that Bernadette Peters really does deserve her fame. Besides, it’s a film decidedly plunked in the eighties…and many have accused your own Cupcake of having dug her heels firmly into that very decade. (Cupcake wears a lot of black clothes and rhinestones, listens to Stevie Nicks, and despite decades of evidence that it's probably not a good idea, has never lost her faith in casual sex.)
In the film, Bernadette’s character is sitting home alone listening to motivational tapes. She lives with her boyfriend in his artist’s loft apartment. (It’s the fact that he is the leaseholder of this desirable space that makes her be the “slave” in the relationship.)
He’s a dickhead, but she loves him. (There’s a filmclip of my life, right there, in six simple words.)
She’s sitting on a swing in the loft, as I recall sitting in the dark, while the film shows us snippets of the boyfriend off having wild sweaty sex with Bernadette’s frenemy.
The voice on the motivational tape booms optimistically: “Say something nice about yourself!”
Bernadette pauses, then offers to the world the following hopeful statement. (Though she offers it hesitantly, almost as a question.)
”I have a dog. (?)”
I’ve think about that scene a lot. Which I shouldn’t admit to you as I am resolved to show up as Someone To Be Admired.
But perhaps I can Be Admired for this: that I am not too proud to admit my flaws, my hesitancy, lack of self-confidence.
I’m still working on this. I am determined that I will start raving about myself on these pages, at least for a while. I want to experiment with it, see what it feels like to look in the mirror and at least pretend to think “Superstah!”
In the meantime…I have a dog. Actually, I have three of them. And they do indeed make me happy. So I am going to go outside and throw a certain stuffed dinosaur around the yard so that Boss and Felix chase it, and little Momo will hover uncertainly at my feet, wanting to play but not really knowing how, and afraid he’ll get damaged in the fray of joyous chaos.
Oh, Momo. How I understand.
9 Comments:
What rips about you is your subtle dry humour in the face of pity.
The movie sounds great from your description of it. Another 80's movie I watched in the last year, that's so very very 80's, is After Hours.
Writing is hard work and writers are generally better at pulling out the extremes -- both good and bad -- but I think the bad things tend to surface more, especially in good people. What am I saying? Man I need a nap.
i don't even have a dog (or a boyfriend, for that matter), so you should definitely feel superstah-like :)
Maybe it's my upbringing, but I would feel it rude to "say something nice about myself" before I first complimented the voice on the motivational tape.
(saw you the list for Tequilacon)
Would it help if we all thought you were fabulous?
"Oh, Momo. How I understand." I might have to repeat this at some point during TequilaCon.
I have a dog! AND I totally feel you, or Bernadette, or you feeling Bernadette. Or something.
Anyhoo... after reading that post, I'm totally looking forward to meeting you at TequilaCon. :)
Dogs rule.
Hey - great meeting you on Saturday. Hope to see you at TC '07!
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