UPDATE! Cute Overload featured this exact same video on July 2nd, a full FOUR DAYS AFTER I did. You know what this means? WE'RE AHEAD OF THE CURVE, PEOPLE! YA-WOOOOOO! (and Susan Isaacs is even more ahead of the curve than we are.)
Then you watch this. Repeatedly.
It's ridiculous, because it's the worst Beatles impersonation in the world, but I love it.
Hat tip to Susan Isaacs at Gray Matter , she found it first. :)
Monday, June 28, 2010
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Surprised Laughter
A couple of weeks ago I went on an impromptu trip to Disneyland. Sister Agatha and Mr. Agatha had given me passes for my birthday, and they expired in the first week of June, so I had to hustle. And while some of my friends have annual passes, most of them couldn’t go because of this, that, and the other thing (mainly rehearsals for a play.)
You can’t just take anyone to Disneyland, people. Well, maybe you can if you’re in a big group, but if it’s gonna be just you and someone else, as it ultimately came down to be, you’d better get along with that person, because everyone knows a trip to Disneyland involves a lot of line standing. If that person isn’t down with lines, with walking, with dealing with noisy children, or if that person doesn’t appreciate the Disneyland experience in general, with all of its childhood nostalgia, adult perspective, and jacked up prices on food and beverage, that person is not the person you wanna go with.
Luckily, I pleaded and cajoled and got Dewey to come with me. Dewey has an annual pass of his own, and loves Disneyland as much as I do, he loves just walking around the park, appreciating the attention to detail that Disneyland still retains (though the cast members could be friendlier.)
Both my pass and his annual pass allowed us to park hop between Disneyland and California Adventure, so we started in California Adventure because last October, we had spent all of the day in Disneyland. And though Dewey had been to both parks plenty of times, he had somehow never made it onto Soarin’ Over California, which is one of my favorite rides.
I tried to describe it to Dewey what it was like, and got as far as “simulated hang glider thingie” before I gave up, and said, “Just trust me, you’re gonna love it.”
So Dewey trusted me, as everyone should do when it comes to all things Disney. We got our Fast Passes so we could come back later with no wait, I told the person putting us in rows that we wanted the top row, so nobody’s feet would be dangling in our sightline. Dewey didn’t understand what that meant, though I’m saying things like “kinda like Back To The Future at Universal Studios, but waaaaaaay better.”
So then we get onto the ride, and the people sitting next to Dewey realize, from all the questions he’s asking me, that this is his first time riding Soarin’. “This is going to be your favorite ride from now on,” they tell him, “Cause it’s our favorite ride.”
Then the ride starts, and we’re lifted high into the air and the movie starts.
And Dewey laughs. The most beautifully surprised laughter I’ve heard in a long time. Kind of a hey, what’s going on...oh my GOD! This is amazing! And he keeps laughing and chuckling all the way through the ride as we soar and swoop and sniff our way through all sorts of California landscapes.
I think I like Soarin’ not just because it takes you up in the air, so you feel like you’re flying, but also because it’s not pretending to be anything other than what it is. It’s not built around a specific Disney movie, it’s not simulating a storyline where something goes horribly awry. You’re flying through the state of California. Boom. Done.
We get back down when the ride’s done and Dewey’s still laughing, but also applauding enthusiastically. And though we do plenty of other things that day, including inadvertently stumbling into the best place to watch the fireworks in Disneyland (by It’s A Small World), it’s Dewey’s laughter that has stayed with me weeks later.
When’s the last time I laughed in that surprised laughter kind of way? I can’t remember. Sure, I laugh, who doesn’t, but it spans the gamut of rueful chuckling to laughter forced from you by a TV show or a movie that’s working REALLY HARD to get you to laugh.
Surprised laughter. It sounded almost like joy.
You can’t just take anyone to Disneyland, people. Well, maybe you can if you’re in a big group, but if it’s gonna be just you and someone else, as it ultimately came down to be, you’d better get along with that person, because everyone knows a trip to Disneyland involves a lot of line standing. If that person isn’t down with lines, with walking, with dealing with noisy children, or if that person doesn’t appreciate the Disneyland experience in general, with all of its childhood nostalgia, adult perspective, and jacked up prices on food and beverage, that person is not the person you wanna go with.
Luckily, I pleaded and cajoled and got Dewey to come with me. Dewey has an annual pass of his own, and loves Disneyland as much as I do, he loves just walking around the park, appreciating the attention to detail that Disneyland still retains (though the cast members could be friendlier.)
Both my pass and his annual pass allowed us to park hop between Disneyland and California Adventure, so we started in California Adventure because last October, we had spent all of the day in Disneyland. And though Dewey had been to both parks plenty of times, he had somehow never made it onto Soarin’ Over California, which is one of my favorite rides.
I tried to describe it to Dewey what it was like, and got as far as “simulated hang glider thingie” before I gave up, and said, “Just trust me, you’re gonna love it.”
So Dewey trusted me, as everyone should do when it comes to all things Disney. We got our Fast Passes so we could come back later with no wait, I told the person putting us in rows that we wanted the top row, so nobody’s feet would be dangling in our sightline. Dewey didn’t understand what that meant, though I’m saying things like “kinda like Back To The Future at Universal Studios, but waaaaaaay better.”So then we get onto the ride, and the people sitting next to Dewey realize, from all the questions he’s asking me, that this is his first time riding Soarin’. “This is going to be your favorite ride from now on,” they tell him, “Cause it’s our favorite ride.”
Then the ride starts, and we’re lifted high into the air and the movie starts.
And Dewey laughs. The most beautifully surprised laughter I’ve heard in a long time. Kind of a hey, what’s going on...oh my GOD! This is amazing! And he keeps laughing and chuckling all the way through the ride as we soar and swoop and sniff our way through all sorts of California landscapes.
I think I like Soarin’ not just because it takes you up in the air, so you feel like you’re flying, but also because it’s not pretending to be anything other than what it is. It’s not built around a specific Disney movie, it’s not simulating a storyline where something goes horribly awry. You’re flying through the state of California. Boom. Done.
We get back down when the ride’s done and Dewey’s still laughing, but also applauding enthusiastically. And though we do plenty of other things that day, including inadvertently stumbling into the best place to watch the fireworks in Disneyland (by It’s A Small World), it’s Dewey’s laughter that has stayed with me weeks later.
When’s the last time I laughed in that surprised laughter kind of way? I can’t remember. Sure, I laugh, who doesn’t, but it spans the gamut of rueful chuckling to laughter forced from you by a TV show or a movie that’s working REALLY HARD to get you to laugh.
Surprised laughter. It sounded almost like joy.
Sunday, June 13, 2010
How Did You Treat Them?
I made a horrible horrible oversight last week in not giving proper credit for one of my song discoveries. The Arcade Fire song, “The Suburbs” was something I discovered on my awesome friend Fauna’s blog, http://laisthenewny.com/ You all need to go there every Friday to check it out, because she’s super awesome and has impeccable taste (and no, she did not demand an apology, I’m a dumbass with a monster guilt complex. ☺ )
Speaking of shoutouts, are you all watching Friend O’ The Blog Aarti kicking ass on tonight’s episode of The Next Food Network Star? I couldn’t be happier for her, and fyi, how NICE is it when you can be genuinely happy for someone’s success? Instead of that twinge of why the hell aren’t I getting the opportunities they’re getting? I can’t say enough nice things about Aarti, y’all. If you notice, it’s only episode 2, and everyone that’s coming into contact with her are all saying the same thing – that she’s so warm and bubbly and inviting. IT’S ALL TRUE. She’s adorable, and that’s exactly what she radiates when you meet her. And no, she's not paying me for the endorsement, either.
I have the most incredible friends in the world, I really really do. There’s nothing better than watching someone do what they love, whether it’s recommend good music, or cook good food, or stare down a fight with cancer, and KICK ASS at it.
So I know this here bloggy has kinda gotten away from its original purpose of chronicling Amy’s Quest For Communication With God. Haven’t really been kicking ass with that, lately, have I. Well, the other way to look at it is, if I was successful at communicating with God, the blog wouldn’t have anything to say, because communication with God is so personal, I couldn’t tell you what worked for me and have it work for you.
Just like how Jesus never healed a person the same way, God speaks to us in different ways, and even when it does work, there’s no guarantee you can make it happen the same way. Just because I hiked in Griffith Park and stood on a very high hill and begged God for help, and thought I heard rescue is coming, the unfortunate part of that is that I think it was 98 percent me answering as though I was God, because that sounds like something God would say. Eventually.
The point is, there’s no guarantee that I should hike up that very same high high hill and expect Him to be there. Because that reduces God to the proverbial genie in the lamp, and He will pop out to do your bidding when you rub that f’ing lamp, and I’m pretty sure He doesn’t work like that.
Right now, it appears that God is acting like the benevolent grandparent who drops by every eight months or so to shower some blessings and then is off again. He showed up last fall to get me into a new place, a new job, and poof, off again, probably to go down to the Gulf and weep copiously at how man is destroying his creation.
But that’s okay, I can shamble along okay, even though He’s not HERE here, it doesn’t mean I can’t pretend like He’s talking to me anyway.
I was running slides today, and we’re hitting the extra controversial stuff in 1 Peter, where they say things like, “Husbands, in the same way, be considerate as you live with your wives, and treat them with respect as the weaker partner.”
THAT’S IT! I’M NEVER COMING BACK TO THIS CHURCH AGAIN!
Ha ha ha. Man, context truly is everything, isn’t it.
The pastor...oh boy. I haven’t given him a name yet. He needs a name, huh. Well, his joke is that every week, he gives himself a different middle name. He’s a WILD MAN, our pastor is. Last week, his middle name was Diet Slice, so even though it’s gonna change this week, he will forever be known on this blog as Pastor Diet Slice.
So Pastor Diet Slice was talking about why men need to value their wives, and why wives need to value their husbands, and why single men need to treat single women with respect, and why single woman need to treat single men with respect, and he said this phrase:
“You will have to answer before God how you treated His son or His daughter.”
I’ve heard different variations of this, like, “You will have to give an accounting for every blessing you didn’t take advantage of” or something like that. Whether it’s what did we right, what we did wrong, how we used our talents (Matthew 25), la la laaaaaaa, we’re gonna have to talk to God when we die about what we did.
I can’t WAIT for this conversation, fyi. I hope it’s over tequila. I bet they have GREAT tequila in heaven.
But I love this idea: that we need to treat everyone as though they’re a son or daughter of God. Because basically, they are. I mean, in all honesty, in our day to day lives, do we REALLY have enemies? Of course we don’t. We have people we disagree with, people who aren’t doing what we want them to, or people who want us to do things we’re not doing, but nobody’s trying to kill us. Nobody is actively working for our personal destruction. The United States Of America, yeah probably. Amy The Writer? Not so much.
When you realize that, you figure out that most everyone is worthy of politeness, of respect, of being treated like a human being. As much of a misanthrope as I can be, I find it surprisingly easy to be polite to people. Especially people I would rather aim a flamethrower at. Because when you’re polite and nice to them, it totally throws them off their game. That kinda makes everything worthwhile.
“You will have to answer before God how you treated His son or His daughter.”
That one might be going over the computer as a reminder.
Speaking of shoutouts, are you all watching Friend O’ The Blog Aarti kicking ass on tonight’s episode of The Next Food Network Star? I couldn’t be happier for her, and fyi, how NICE is it when you can be genuinely happy for someone’s success? Instead of that twinge of why the hell aren’t I getting the opportunities they’re getting? I can’t say enough nice things about Aarti, y’all. If you notice, it’s only episode 2, and everyone that’s coming into contact with her are all saying the same thing – that she’s so warm and bubbly and inviting. IT’S ALL TRUE. She’s adorable, and that’s exactly what she radiates when you meet her. And no, she's not paying me for the endorsement, either.
I have the most incredible friends in the world, I really really do. There’s nothing better than watching someone do what they love, whether it’s recommend good music, or cook good food, or stare down a fight with cancer, and KICK ASS at it.
So I know this here bloggy has kinda gotten away from its original purpose of chronicling Amy’s Quest For Communication With God. Haven’t really been kicking ass with that, lately, have I. Well, the other way to look at it is, if I was successful at communicating with God, the blog wouldn’t have anything to say, because communication with God is so personal, I couldn’t tell you what worked for me and have it work for you.
Just like how Jesus never healed a person the same way, God speaks to us in different ways, and even when it does work, there’s no guarantee you can make it happen the same way. Just because I hiked in Griffith Park and stood on a very high hill and begged God for help, and thought I heard rescue is coming, the unfortunate part of that is that I think it was 98 percent me answering as though I was God, because that sounds like something God would say. Eventually.
The point is, there’s no guarantee that I should hike up that very same high high hill and expect Him to be there. Because that reduces God to the proverbial genie in the lamp, and He will pop out to do your bidding when you rub that f’ing lamp, and I’m pretty sure He doesn’t work like that.
Right now, it appears that God is acting like the benevolent grandparent who drops by every eight months or so to shower some blessings and then is off again. He showed up last fall to get me into a new place, a new job, and poof, off again, probably to go down to the Gulf and weep copiously at how man is destroying his creation.
But that’s okay, I can shamble along okay, even though He’s not HERE here, it doesn’t mean I can’t pretend like He’s talking to me anyway.
I was running slides today, and we’re hitting the extra controversial stuff in 1 Peter, where they say things like, “Husbands, in the same way, be considerate as you live with your wives, and treat them with respect as the weaker partner.”
THAT’S IT! I’M NEVER COMING BACK TO THIS CHURCH AGAIN!
Ha ha ha. Man, context truly is everything, isn’t it.
The pastor...oh boy. I haven’t given him a name yet. He needs a name, huh. Well, his joke is that every week, he gives himself a different middle name. He’s a WILD MAN, our pastor is. Last week, his middle name was Diet Slice, so even though it’s gonna change this week, he will forever be known on this blog as Pastor Diet Slice.
So Pastor Diet Slice was talking about why men need to value their wives, and why wives need to value their husbands, and why single men need to treat single women with respect, and why single woman need to treat single men with respect, and he said this phrase:
“You will have to answer before God how you treated His son or His daughter.”
I’ve heard different variations of this, like, “You will have to give an accounting for every blessing you didn’t take advantage of” or something like that. Whether it’s what did we right, what we did wrong, how we used our talents (Matthew 25), la la laaaaaaa, we’re gonna have to talk to God when we die about what we did.
I can’t WAIT for this conversation, fyi. I hope it’s over tequila. I bet they have GREAT tequila in heaven.
But I love this idea: that we need to treat everyone as though they’re a son or daughter of God. Because basically, they are. I mean, in all honesty, in our day to day lives, do we REALLY have enemies? Of course we don’t. We have people we disagree with, people who aren’t doing what we want them to, or people who want us to do things we’re not doing, but nobody’s trying to kill us. Nobody is actively working for our personal destruction. The United States Of America, yeah probably. Amy The Writer? Not so much.
When you realize that, you figure out that most everyone is worthy of politeness, of respect, of being treated like a human being. As much of a misanthrope as I can be, I find it surprisingly easy to be polite to people. Especially people I would rather aim a flamethrower at. Because when you’re polite and nice to them, it totally throws them off their game. That kinda makes everything worthwhile.
“You will have to answer before God how you treated His son or His daughter.”
That one might be going over the computer as a reminder.
Monday, June 07, 2010
Join Amy’s Dance Party Part 2
When I got nothing to say...I dance.
(or in reality, if I have nothing constructive to say except bitching and whining...I dance.)
And I'm a moody little beeyotch, so here's some moody songs for you to mope and sway to:
The Submarines "Brightest Hour (Morgan Page Remix.)"
Yeah, I heard this one on an episode of The Vampire Diaries, so WHAT. If you make fun of me, I'll totally cut you. :)
Arcade Fire's new one "The Suburbs." You get to this end of this one, with the repeated lyrics "We're still screaming" and it's another song that would play over the end credits of a movie I will one day write (or maybe I already have, and will one day be produced.)
An oldie but goodie: Mew's "Comforting Sounds." I saw a comment, "It's worth it if you're patient." HEE! They mean specifically 4:22 minutes in. Totally worth it if you start there and listen to the build. Another song to make life changing decisions to (but only if you keep with the build.)
And finally, one for friend o' the blog, Spunkieselkie: Michael Hutchence's "Rooms For The Memory." Love ya, Spunkie!
(or in reality, if I have nothing constructive to say except bitching and whining...I dance.)
And I'm a moody little beeyotch, so here's some moody songs for you to mope and sway to:
The Submarines "Brightest Hour (Morgan Page Remix.)"
Yeah, I heard this one on an episode of The Vampire Diaries, so WHAT. If you make fun of me, I'll totally cut you. :)
Arcade Fire's new one "The Suburbs." You get to this end of this one, with the repeated lyrics "We're still screaming" and it's another song that would play over the end credits of a movie I will one day write (or maybe I already have, and will one day be produced.)
An oldie but goodie: Mew's "Comforting Sounds." I saw a comment, "It's worth it if you're patient." HEE! They mean specifically 4:22 minutes in. Totally worth it if you start there and listen to the build. Another song to make life changing decisions to (but only if you keep with the build.)
And finally, one for friend o' the blog, Spunkieselkie: Michael Hutchence's "Rooms For The Memory." Love ya, Spunkie!
Tuesday, June 01, 2010
doitagaindoitagaindoitagain
Let’s check in with everyone’s favorite Chickenlegger, Ginger Puppy! How goes it Ginger Puppy?
Uh-huh...uh-huh...mmmmm...well at least they trimmed you down to match the hair growing in on your chickenleg (which we can’t see because you’re still kinda leaning on it) and you can walk the stairs on your own, as opposed to God carrying you around, so that’s good, right? Right? And…lovely flowers you’re sitting next to, right? Right? Hair still in the face, I see, ha ha ha.
Ginger Puppy, Basil Diva Dog and I spent a very lovely Memorial Day Weekend lounging around by the pool. I got a new outline underway while we all enjoyed the sunshine, and even Nadine came up one day to drink the afternoon away.
It was very peaceful and the tranquility was only marred occasionally by a plane going overhead.
I would be angry about that except #1 – that’s a stupid thing to get angry about and #2 – my friend Beatrice and her new hubby Beauregard invited me to go flying in Beauregard’s plane yesterday.
Beauregard is my second Honorary Big Brother (Wella is my first), and these are the guys I call on when my car breaks down, or furniture needs to be transported or assembled, and they’re the ones that’re gonna have to give their approval to any guy who wants to date me, ha ha ha.
Even though I knew Beauregard had a plane, I had never been in it before, and I had determined that him taking me up in his plane was going to be my May Adventure, so thank God he agreed to it, ha ha, ha.
Here’s Beatrice and Beauregard, pulling the plane out of the hangar in Hawthorne. In all the pictures I took, I neglected to get a picture of the full plane, but it’s a Meyers 200D, it seats four people and its name is Gracie.
Beatrice goes flying with Beauregard all the time, so they let me sit in the front seat. Beauregard was very nice and detailed all the safety features and explained what all the dials were, and how turning this thing turned that flap that way and la la la. He told me several times that if at ANY point I felt scared, nauseous, or unsafe, to let him know and he’d take us back to the airport instantly.
HA! Little did Beauregard know that I LOVE flying! I LOVE turbulence! I love turbulence, I love roller coasters, I love cruises in high swell seas, I LOVE danger, it’s just pain I don’t like so much.
But there was no pain here. Nope, no pain, no danger, because Beauregard is an expert pilot, and up up up we go!
Beauregard apologized for the marine layer (like it was his fault, heh) that prevented us from seeing out to the ocean, but he took us past Long Beach harbor, then up to downtown, and turned the plane so I could get crazy angles of downtown Los Angeles.
We continued on and somewhere around the Hollywood Sign, Beauregard said the most incredible thing any man has said to me in recent memory:
“Ever experienced 0 gs before?”
NO!?!? CAN WE DO THAT!?!?
WE CAN! WE CAN AND WE DID!
Oh my GOSH, you guys it was so much fun!! He dips the plane sharp enough to where we’re all floating weightless! Sure, it’s only for two or three seconds, but we’re WEIGHTLESS! WEIGHTLESS AND FLYING!
Sure, I initially scream, but then I laugh and laugh and laugh and say, “doitagaindoitagaindoitagain!” So Beauregard cheerfully obliges, because he is my Honorary Big Brother and loves me bunches and bunches.
All together, it was three times of us floating weightless. The last one was the best one, EVERYTHING went flying, including my unzipped purse in the back seat. If ONLY I had had the foresight to get a picture of that, heh.
We then landed and went to an awesome tequila bar in Hawthorne, because, as Beatrice pointed out, you wanna drink AFTER you get off the plane, not before.
So the next time I’m sitting in the backyard and a plane flies overhead, I’m gonna remember the day that I was up there, screaming, laughing and floating above our fair city. It was an awesome awesome moment.
Uh-huh...uh-huh...mmmmm...well at least they trimmed you down to match the hair growing in on your chickenleg (which we can’t see because you’re still kinda leaning on it) and you can walk the stairs on your own, as opposed to God carrying you around, so that’s good, right? Right? And…lovely flowers you’re sitting next to, right? Right? Hair still in the face, I see, ha ha ha.Ginger Puppy, Basil Diva Dog and I spent a very lovely Memorial Day Weekend lounging around by the pool. I got a new outline underway while we all enjoyed the sunshine, and even Nadine came up one day to drink the afternoon away.
It was very peaceful and the tranquility was only marred occasionally by a plane going overhead.
I would be angry about that except #1 – that’s a stupid thing to get angry about and #2 – my friend Beatrice and her new hubby Beauregard invited me to go flying in Beauregard’s plane yesterday.
Beauregard is my second Honorary Big Brother (Wella is my first), and these are the guys I call on when my car breaks down, or furniture needs to be transported or assembled, and they’re the ones that’re gonna have to give their approval to any guy who wants to date me, ha ha ha.
Even though I knew Beauregard had a plane, I had never been in it before, and I had determined that him taking me up in his plane was going to be my May Adventure, so thank God he agreed to it, ha ha, ha.
Here’s Beatrice and Beauregard, pulling the plane out of the hangar in Hawthorne. In all the pictures I took, I neglected to get a picture of the full plane, but it’s a Meyers 200D, it seats four people and its name is Gracie.
Beatrice goes flying with Beauregard all the time, so they let me sit in the front seat. Beauregard was very nice and detailed all the safety features and explained what all the dials were, and how turning this thing turned that flap that way and la la la. He told me several times that if at ANY point I felt scared, nauseous, or unsafe, to let him know and he’d take us back to the airport instantly.HA! Little did Beauregard know that I LOVE flying! I LOVE turbulence! I love turbulence, I love roller coasters, I love cruises in high swell seas, I LOVE danger, it’s just pain I don’t like so much.
But there was no pain here. Nope, no pain, no danger, because Beauregard is an expert pilot, and up up up we go!
Beauregard apologized for the marine layer (like it was his fault, heh) that prevented us from seeing out to the ocean, but he took us past Long Beach harbor, then up to downtown, and turned the plane so I could get crazy angles of downtown Los Angeles.
We continued on and somewhere around the Hollywood Sign, Beauregard said the most incredible thing any man has said to me in recent memory:“Ever experienced 0 gs before?”
NO!?!? CAN WE DO THAT!?!?
WE CAN! WE CAN AND WE DID!
Oh my GOSH, you guys it was so much fun!! He dips the plane sharp enough to where we’re all floating weightless! Sure, it’s only for two or three seconds, but we’re WEIGHTLESS! WEIGHTLESS AND FLYING!
Sure, I initially scream, but then I laugh and laugh and laugh and say, “doitagaindoitagaindoitagain!” So Beauregard cheerfully obliges, because he is my Honorary Big Brother and loves me bunches and bunches.
All together, it was three times of us floating weightless. The last one was the best one, EVERYTHING went flying, including my unzipped purse in the back seat. If ONLY I had had the foresight to get a picture of that, heh.
We then landed and went to an awesome tequila bar in Hawthorne, because, as Beatrice pointed out, you wanna drink AFTER you get off the plane, not before.
So the next time I’m sitting in the backyard and a plane flies overhead, I’m gonna remember the day that I was up there, screaming, laughing and floating above our fair city. It was an awesome awesome moment.
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