This is Why I Love Him...

Is it cliche to be a religious single gal  from Texas who writes entire blog posts about how Jesus is her boyfriend? Yes. And I am not going to do that here. Because, Jesus is not my boyfriend and even if he were, I wouldn't tell people! Because in my opinion it is somewhat creepy to get into a romantic trist with the author and finisher of your faith.

My next-door buddy Shaun White doesn't even like it when I say that hot celebrities look like Jesus because it gives him such a case of the heebie-jeebies! And I'll admit, I think that's a fair response. But I also think that he ought to admit that Russel Brand does look a heck of a lot like our bastardized approximation of the Savior and  does happen to be a Hottie Mchotterson. Same with long-haired Jared Leto and Jim Cavezal, obviously.

But, I digress

The point is, I do love Him--J.C. that is.

And I remembered why today when I ran into an old elementary school friend of mine, who I will call 4th grade Lindsay Lohan.  Li'l LiLo as I rememeber her was always small, generally over or underclothed and seemingly exhausted. One Fall she was invited to my Halloween party and I don't know if there was a miscommunication between she and her parents or what, but I do remember that I could hear them screaming at her over the phone and that she seemed genuinely afraid to go home. But home she had to go, and we all had to share in her embarrassment as we drove up to her dilapidated, dirty only house only to leave her with an equally dilapidated, dirty old man whose tone had not softened one iota by the time we got there.

If I ever hung out with Li'l Lilo again, I can't recall it. Then she seemed to disappear in middle and highschool and though I never had proof that she was being abused I always worried and wondered as I passed her house on the street. A couple of years ago they tore the house down and I thought, "Poor Lindsay, she didn't have a chance at anything good in life."

Fast Forward to the Drive-Through at Bushes Chicken this afternoon where I see her for the first time in at least 12 years. She is driving a mini-van with a little girl in the front seat who is beautiful, reminscent of her mother and appears perfectly clothed and rested.  "Lindsay", I say " I think of you every time I pass your house from when we were little and I wonder how you are doing." I am trying to hide the terror in my voice that is actually saying "I see your old house and I weep because I was too young to know how to help you escape that hellish existence that I got a glimpse of." But she seems to know what I mean. "Things are really good", she assures me. "My husband was the pastor of  a church out of town for a while but now we are back here at New Life." 

How Fitting.

Listen, I know that going to church or being a pastor's wife doesn't mean that life is perfect. But I thought Lohan would be dead, strung-out or prostituting the next time I saw her. Instead she was casually purchasing chicken, being a mom and participating in groups like "You May not like me but Jesus thinks I'm to Die for". (Yes,I Facebook Stalked her). That scared little girl who I say a prayer for every so often is ok. Saved even! Not just in the next life, but in this one.

This is why I love Him.

Not because he is my pretend date or looks anything like one Mr. Katy Perry.  But because he offers to Lindsay and to me:

Hope.
Rescue.
New Life, Indeed.

And you?  What percentage of your (assumed) affection toward Jesus has to do with hotness and what percentage derives from something substantive like that touching story that I just recalled? Its not a contest or anything, but your soul might be in danger if you answer incorrectly.

Grandma Buzzkill Hates Hangover!

Grandma Buzzkill is a nickname I gave myself a few years back when I was desperately trying to convince my small-group to avoid the hookah smoking. I sent them all an email about the dangers associated with this "harmless" passtime and immediately acknowledged my own twenty-something octogenarianness. I can't help myself, I was born with an interesting marriage of child-like frivolity and uptight prudishness and it can be hard to know which one will win out in any given situation. As I was writing the movie reviews that I hinted at last week it was apparent that it was a GB kind of day. So be forewarned, the following are my honest but at times old-ladyish opinions about the world of film today. Here goes!

Something Borrowed:
If you love adultery and think we have not done enough to promote it in this country, then you will love Something Borrowed. It does everything possible to communicate to its audience that ultimately you should just take what you want regardless of the implications for other people. Look, I believe that art is all about perspective and I deeply appreciate a filmmaker who forces me to consider something empathically,which would typically be outside my capacity for grace; but this movie didn't really do that. And it's a shame, because the first three quarters of the film is hilarious, particularly due to the work of one Mr. John Krasinski. (Yes, he is the same dorky, boy next door character who we are supposed to believe struggles with the ladies.) Rent it if you want a laugh or are writing a paper entitled how-to become an awful  human who uses his or her own former disempowerment as an excuse for their current relational aggression. However, as an editing note, I might suggest a shorter title.

Bridesmaids
My biggest fear going into this movie was that it was going to be a bunch of women trying to one-up their (male) comedic competition with feats of vulgarity. Happily, that was only the case once or twice. I really liked this movie and considered it to be just a few depressing songs away from being an interesting indie flick commenting on the grief we each work through in all of the many non-death losses we experience throughout our lives.Kristen Wiig is very funny and relatable in this role and the writing does an excellent job of exposing, diseccting and celebrating female relationships in lots of silly and serious ways. There is a lot of  "taking it to the limit" in this movie which is how my friends and I used to describe letting a joke go on and on in order to milk every last laugh out of it. I happen to like a joke that requires a bit of endurance, so that was delightful for me as well. My only crochety caution for this movie is SPOILER ALERT : the first scene is unnecessarily raunchy and being someone who believes that it degrades us to watch other humans having sex, even for a laugh, I think you could easily go into this movie 3 minutes late, keep a little dignity for yourself and not miss any important content other than the dude is a selfish jerk.

The Hangover Part II
It pains me to say it people. I just want to be clear here and admit that I watched the original Hangover three times in the theater, and several times on DVD after purchasing it. However, part 2 just did not cut it. It wasn't very good. Zach Galifinakis seemed to have more lines and I was less annoyed with Mr. Cho now that I have fallen in love with him on Community. But other than that the movie was actually kinda boring. My BFF pointed out that it seemed more fragmented this time, it also seemed to have less urgency and also less Bradley Cooper in a suit. Why in God's name would you make a movie that is the exact same as the original in practically every way only to omit a Bradley Cooper in a suit scene? Doesn't make no sense. Never will. Also, surprise-surprise, I thought it was too vulgar and I didn't even stay for the credits which I hear is the worst part.

So, there is the movie-world according to Grandma Buzzkill. Hope it will be of help to you in your movie selection and rejection process. What do you all think? Am i right? Am I 87? Do you have any movie commentary you would like to provide? Comments Section!

Kerri

Summer Cinema 2011

When I was growing up I found movie theaters to be the most counter-intuitive, ill-advised, and freak-fest sanctioning arenas frequented by normal, everyday people.  As a half-white anglo saxon protestant, I experienced a significant amount of distress at willingly walking into and setting up camp in a  dark room with strangers. I am pretty sure my grandmother explicity warned me about being fooled into these types of scenarios, but even my own family on the occasional thrill-seeking endeavor, threw caution to the wind and plopped down in front of that grotesque amount of screen.

What was most disturbing to me though, were the exit doors to the right and left of mega-screen. In the theater where I grew up, the doors exited immediately to the outside world and being either unaware of or confused by the concept of one-way-locks, I beleived  that people could easily sneak in through those haunting frames and thus watched each film in the knowledge that it would likely be interrupted by real-life mass-murder. Plus you can't talk in movie theaters.

As I got older, trips to the cinema became more frequent and I learned to numb-out of the experience somewhat (newer, less-horrifying theaters and boyfriends seemed to help). And I am either happy or ashamed to report that at this point in my existence a complete metamorphisis has occurred. I will watch almost anything at the movies with the right guest. As an adult I always buy concessions as a way of retroactively giving the finger to my perceived childhood poverty and the chance to shut up and just have a shared experience with someone in a higly air-conditioned room is like a gift dropped directly into my lap by one of God's most insignificant brand of angels.

And guess what, it is summer babies!!!!

I am sorry that for some of you this means nothing, but for me it means FREEDOM. And how better to use that freedom than to grab some nachos, some friends and a room of (almost certainly) non-felons to watch a movie. Below is a list of my plans for summer cinema. I have crossed off those that I have already completed and you can look forward to some reviews in the near future.

Kerri's Summer Flick Super Plans

• Something Borrowed
• Bridesmaids
• Everything Must Go
• The Hangover Part II (Seeing it Today)
• Conan O'Brien Can't Stop
• Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part II
• Friends With Benefits (Don't worry, I am ashamed)
• Crazy Stupid Love

Year of Angst

There is something worse than a nightmare you know. It is called a dream-- specifically a dream that can never be realized. A nightmare is terrible of course, but ultimately you wake up relieved. A dream, on the other hand,  is lovely, but you wake up disenchanted, dejected and depressed. Because, as it turns out, your couch is not made of a never-ending supply of avocados, your boyfriend did not change his mind about the break up and that loved one is still gone. In short, dreams remind you that real life can be a real sucksville.
I don't bring this up for nothing. I bring it up mostly to get your sympathy and then later to make a point. You see, a couple of days ago, just before daybreak, I myself, dreamed a little dream. It wasn't a kooky dream where nothing makes sense. In fact, I would say that everything in it was perfectly :

plausible--
legitimate --
possiby even  too legit too quit --
But you be the judge:

1. Ryan Gosling was my boyfriend.
2. He worked as a teacher for hyperactive & blind children.
3. I had rejected his love and left him heartbroken.  
4. When I walked in his classroom to ask for his forgiveness, my presence made him nervous (in a good way) And Finally,
5. I calmed his nerves by going over to kiss him

THEN, just at that very moment,  the sun crested and my stupid (but impeccable) body-clock woke me up seconds BEFORE my Gosling Smoochfest. And I know this is pathetic but the discrepancy between that dream and the world I was waking up to had me slumped over on my couchbed and crafting a poem reminiscent of Jewel circa 1996.

I had been sucker-punched by my own subconscious and it got me thinking about other sorts of dreams...

Some of the waking dreams (as in aspirations) that we have in life are quite ethereal and ever outside of our grasp so we rely mostly on divine intervention (that goes above and beyond just daily graces) to realize these desires. On the other hand, there are some dreams that we can run ahead and take hold of without a tremendous amount of "perfect timing", "connections"  "Hell freezing over" etc.  I like doing that---
running after,
grasping for,
hurtling toward.

I've decided to keep doing those things in this life of profound single-lady freedom. It was one year ago yesterday that I went to a Conan O'Brien show, ran into old friends and found the voice for August Angst. In a very short time, I realized that I loved these little essays more than mostly everything else that I did. I only hated that I could  give it but a fraction of my time and thus ended up wtih work that quantitatively and qualitatively reflect that amount of energy.

So I want more. It has been my experience that all that running, grasping hurtling stuff can be off-putting in the romantic realm as men seem to frighten easily. But everywhere else in life it has served me quite well. So, as most of you Angsters know. This August, I am moving to the country, taking a breath from the over-commitment that is my way and taking hold of some lifetime dreams to include a few major writing projects.

I am not 100% sure what that will ultimately mean for lil Baby Angst here, but for now just keep reading this summer!  Regardless of the future, I do want to thank you for reading and thus being a part of one of the most clarifying years of my life. Now go have a piece of birthday cake in celebration of this momentous occasion. I recommend something with salted caramel.

Con Mucho Amor,
Kerri

These are our Mothers

A soft place to fall,
a bed to crawl into
on thunderous Thursday mornings when lightning collides with the earth—

A curvaceous glass pitcher
of iced mint tea
refreshing souls on sultry Sundays in June.

A well worn ladle
delivering steaming soup to hungry little bellies around the room,
chicken noodle, minestrone, creamy potato—

The unsolicited advice
that we can’t help but follow,
the women we unwittingly become.

Need Help with a Wedding?

You know, the economy is precarious at the moment and it wouldn’t hurt any of us to take a look at our experiences and qualifications should the need to make a creativecareer shift arise. After another smashing vow swap and dance party last evening (thanks Brad and Zoeey, formerly Silverman) I realized my (back-up) calling in life, although how I am coming to this entrepreneurial realization so late in life is beyond me.

I have served proudly in weddings all across the state of Texas and beyond. I have worn countless (10) dresses, but just for the one time. Sorry Brides you are not fooling anyone with that “wear it again” line. And all these years of showers and ceremonies and receptions and reflection has not left this girl without a pretty hefty Wedding Party skill-set. I think I am now ready to take this show on the road—systematize it, sell it for profit and de-intimatize it as is a custom of my generation. Check out my new Vitae and let me know what you think!

August Angst Vitae

Wedding Party Participant Extraordinaire

 

Previous Positions (Some dates and Locations Approximated)

• Jr. Bridesmaid (and sister of the Bride): Temple Texas, September 1996

• Jr. Bridesmaid, Copperas Cove Texas, Summer 1998

• Bridesmaid, Temple Texas, Summer 2001

• Bridesmaid, San Antonio Texas, March 2004

• Hostess with the Mostest(aka: House Party Crew): Houston Texas, Summer 2005

• Maid of Honor, Brownwood Texas, February 2006

• Bridesmaid, Wimberley Texas, Summer 2006

• Bridesmaid, Albanyish NY, Summer 2007

• Maid of Honor, Belton Texas, Fall 2007

• Bridesmaid, Austin Texas, March 2011

What I Do:

• Emotional Pep Talks & Reality Checks-Brides sometimes get the jitters – Do you think my mom’s alright? Should we do cake and then speeches or speeches and then cake? Can you even tell I’ve lost 35 pounds? Can you believe how great I look since I lost 1.5 pounds? How many more pounds do you think I can lose before the wedding?

They need a wordsmith around to reframe and affirm as needed, i.e.

I think your mom is overwhelmed with the love she has for you right now sweetie and isn’t it a gift for all of us to witness such profound affection from a mother to her child. Speeches first, cake second. You are tiny, I can barely see your waist. I am so glad you didn’t overdo it with the dieting---you look like freaking Kate Winslet on Titanic. I guess you could lose a pound a week or so but let’s keep in mind that you are pregnant so maybe we should just showcase the boobs. They can’t all be fairytales, people!

• Awkward Garment and Body Arranging- Brides cannot do a d**n thing for themselves. Not because they are ignorant or slave-driving but because they are in a corset (that you put them in) with wet nails and a fragile up-do. So you can’t be afraid of a little necessary groping or of helping another grown woman go pee. And I am happy to report that each and every one of my ten brides have walked proudly down the aisle absent of any urine stains. And most of them have made their sojourn to the altar comfortable in the knowledge that their severe discomfort (what with the two bras, spanx and 3 layers of itchy petticoat) has made this the most beautiful day of their lives.

• Crazy Relative Mgmt and Damage Control- Brides, for the most part, have a crazy relative or two whose blood connection has granted them access to be near the bride in the intimate and sacred moments of her wedding day. For this reason, they need a regulator. Someone has to tell Aunt Janice that she cannot bring her cat to the reception as her niece has a blotch inducing sensitivity to dander. Someone has to keep the divorcees apart and flirt with grandpa so that his old people tears (sweet though they may be) do not send the bride into ugly-cry right before her groom first lays eyes on her. That person is me, I am not afraid to send someone out of the room, ban pets or to use my feminine wiles for the greater good.

• Reception Dance Promotion-It is hard to get your reception on when nobody is getting krunk. I don’t know what that means, but I do know it is best when people are getting’ jiggy wit it at receptions. And I jig. I will two-step until I am body rolling and body roll my way all throughout the cupid shuffle. I can’t promise 100% attendance on sappy slow dances, but listen the groomsmen have got to be responsible for something. The point is every party needs a designated dancer and I am happy to be that for you. ( As long as we are still talking reception here. I do not do Bachelor parties. And speaking of my what I don’t do…)

What I Don’t Do: I will keep it short and sweet.

• Encourage Stupid Purchases- You will not here me tell a bride that she NEEDS a third dessert for her 2 vegan cousins that might fly in from Vermont. It is your day and they are used to it. Forget about miss manners, think about how starving children in Burundi might view this moral dilemma.

• That Juvenile Lingerie Shower Game: You know the one where whatever the bride says later comes back as a double entendre about the wedding night. So she describes the negligee as cute and little and everyone is expected to keal over in laughter when you think about if the bride had really been saying that about her new husband’s genitalia instead. Yeah, I won’t laugh. This is a non-negotiable. It is a stupid game and I cannot encourage its proliferation.

• Pretty Much any Details: If we were to use a film analogy, bridesmaids are the “character actresses” in a wedding. They are meant to deliver snappy lines, look interesting rather than pretty, bring a little diversity to the pictures and get sassy as needed. It is really more of a performing art, less roll up your sleeves and get your hands dirty kind-of-thing. So, if you are looking for someone to recount the programs a milliion times or make sure the chairs line up evenly, I think you are looking for a stage manager (wedding planner) or some child actors (little siblings).  Otherwise I am happy to be at your service.
Areas for Growth-there are a few positions I have not fulfilled in my 14 years of wedding participation, but I am willing to learn and work hard in each of the following roles:

• Flower Girl

• Ring Bearer

• Reader

• Singer

• Officiant

And it seems like there is one more still floatin’ around out there,

Oh yeah!

• Bride

So just if you know anyone expressing a need for any of these positions, send them on over. Thanks to everyone who has helped build my resume along the way!

Kerri

The Happiest, Saddest Day

There is this episode of Friends that Amy Adams and I like to quote when pals of ours get married. In this particular scene Phoebe and Rachel learn of Monica’s engagement and tabulate their percentage of happiness versus their percentage of jealousy beginning at a promising 90% happy to 10% jealous and (through a journey of neurotic self perseveration) ending up at around 60/40. As two relatively long-time single ladies Amy and I can relate. Occasionally you think to yourself how in the world did that mustachioed dictator of a woman get a ring on it before I did?!?! But sometimes you are really not jealous at all (okay maybe like 2% but that hardly even counts just like in milk).


Sometimes, like last night when Amy’s brother got married you are just in soul shaking shock. Amy’s brother (whose celebrity pseudonym should be Conan but I reference the real Conan too frequently for that to work) has been a friend for the last 22 of my 28 years. We have seen each other toiling and searching and laughing and loving. We have made fun of each other and stood up for one another and then made fun of each other some more. We have had water wars, trampoline contests, secrets, surprises, lake-house trips, haircuts, cross-country moves, and divine moments on the big front porch when God sent extra portions of food and conversation with a gracious breeze to hover over us in our communing.

And I thought about all those things and when everything had quieted down at the rehearsal dinner I said to his family: “I think I’ve changed my mind. Maybe we shouldn’t let him get married tomorrow.” And his mom nodded in understanding “We just don’t like change. It has been this way for a long time.” And it is true. That is the problem with some of these weddings-- It isn’t so much that you want what they have so much as you want them—unchanged untampered with for worse or even for better. You want them to be in your personal collection of people or at the very least be available for checkout in some sort of shared human library—and here they have gone and been claimed permanently by someone else. And it doesn’t even really matter that the person doing the claiming is kind and good humored and willing to share the appropriate parts of your old pal with you (such as the case with this particular marriage). It is just the idea that the way it has always been is gone from one joyous moment at the altar to the next making this the happiest, saddest day.

And I have a lot of experience with things getting even better than you imagined in new chapters of life, so I have faith that the same will be true as my earliest and closest family of friends marry off without me. I suppose I will have to find a few more solitary single-lady adventures to keep up with all the rampant 100% happiness in the air. And I believe those adventures might be just around the corner.

Wishing you all more august and less angst as you navigate the joy and pain of change,

Kerri