If my mom’s voicemails were a Broadway musical

…using actual, transcribed text from my mom’s messages, elevated to one glorious extravanganza!

BEEP! The Musical! STARRING ANSWERING MACHINE,  RISING STARLETS, AND A CAST OF HUNDREDS! GLAMOUR! SOUL-STIRRING SONGS!  MAD-CAP ANTICS! GORGEOUS GAMS! ZIGFIELD’S FINEST!

(Overture)

Curtains up on a dark stage, in which an answering machine is illuminated by a single spotlight.  A red light blinks. A phantom hand presses the “messages” button, as the audience holds its collective breath.

MESSAGE:

Hi, Kate. This is Mom. I just called to say I love you love you LOVE you, and you are my SPECIAL GIRL. I love you.  This is Mom. I LOVE you. It is Wednesday, at 6:32 and 29..30…31 seconds, and I called to say I love you. YOU  are the most WONDERFUL, BRILLIANT, SPECIAL girl in the WHOLE WORLD, and any man who doesn’t instantly want to snatch you up  FOREVER is just INSANE. INSANE. Should be LOCKED UP! Insane. You are my SPECIAL SPECIAL girl, and I can’t believe you’re 25. 25! Ugh! It seems like just yesterday you were a little baby.  (moment of reflective silence) You know, when I was 25, I had TWO LITTLE BOYS.  Haha. Not that that matters to you, because I know you say you don’t want kids, but I think it’s such a SHAME, You’d be SUCH a great MOM.  You say that NOW, but you’re so YOUNG, you might change your mind. OH, you’d be such a COOL mom!(pause)  I know you hate it when I do that. DELETE, DELETE! Hahahaha. Here I  go, BABBLE BABBLE! Hahahaha! (Starts singing, off-tune):

Oh where, oh where has my little girl gone

Oh where, oh where can she beee?

I’ve called and called and she hasn’t called me back*

Oh whyyyy won’t sheeeee call me?

Hahahahaha!  This is Mom, I LOVE you LOVE YOU! Call me back. Call me back, I love you!

 This is Mom!

(long pause)

 

I love you! This is Mom!

(click)

Lights come up, revealing a long  kickline of chorus girls! They dance and twirl, as a platform of singers rise behind them, drowning the stage in song! They all join together, surround the answering machine, and end in big finish, jump-splits and fireworks and soaring voices, and the cheeky lovers reunited!

Close curtain.

*Before anyone accuses me of being a monster, let me just say that this message was left when I hadn’t called her back for TWO DAYS. TWO DAYS!

Katkallers

I live in Washington Heights, NYC (stalkers take note), and as such, every day/night when I walk down my street, I am greeted by what my roommates and I call “The Gauntlet”:

PSsssssst!Psst! (finger snap) Pssst pssst!

God BLESS you.

God BLESS you, mami.

Ohh, you so beautiful. Are you a model?

Girl, I like that. Mmmm. Vanilla.

And those are the polite guys. Worse are the

Shake it. Yeaaahhhh. I see you. I like that ass.

I like that fat ass. (EXCUSE YOU, MOTHERFUCKER?)

What? You don’t want to talk? You don’t want to be my friend? Stuck-up.

Hey, girl. Heyyyyy. Bend over for me.

…and worse. It doesn’t matter what you wear, it doesn’t matter how you look, it doesn’t matter how late or early it is- every time is catcalling time in the Heights! It’s been especially bad lately- the weather’s been nice, and there are big groups of men hanging out on the stoops.  The worst part is that there’s no way to respond-at an especially nasty comment, I’ll give a dirty look, or flip them off, or yell at them, but in most cases, it’s better just to ignore the catcalls- these guys feed off the attention. I’ve had men in my neighborhood lunge into my personal space, within inches of me, while catcalling, which feels especially frightening and enraging. One feels powerless and pissed and exposed.

So I have an idea.

I think the city of New York, to discourage  street harassment of women and generally improve the quality of life citywide, should award to one out of every 100,000 women in the city (chosen by lottery) a brand-new top of the line bazooka.

And the license to kill or maim, without legal penalty, up to 5 catcallers in a calendar year.

Now I’m not saying every woman would accept it, or use the privilege, but wouldn’t the thought that an overstuffed purse just MIGHT contain a high-powered assault weapon make these guys really consider how important it is to them to comment on that. sweet. ass.?

 

Mayor Bloomberg, I rest my case.

Bill Maher on Safe Sex

Here’s a great spiel by Bill Maher on condom efficacy and abstinence programs (more on that to come)!

By the way, the last safe sex post (and forthcoming) are inspired by my lovely friends over at ButterCupPunch, who are hosting Safe Sex Week! (www.buttercuppunch.wordpress.com).

 ButterCupPunch! The only website with a  98% effectiveness rate if used properly!

More temp-y goodness

Mag on Hospitality

M: yeah i just hate people
  and don’t like houseguests
 K: awww yet you had me over
 awwww
M: no i didn’t
  that’s totally different
  crashing is different from a houseguest
  you had to leave. to change your underwear.
  houseguests have underwear so they don’t leave.

Temp-le of Doom

Mag and Kate on the Irish National Temperament

 
K:  do you ever fantasize about the perfect fight?
 M: constantly
 K: me too
  oooohhh
 M: the completely self-righteous argument is my holy grail
  i’m always looking for it in vain
  i’m not worthy
i must purify myself before i can find it
 K: I KNOW I KNOW
  oh god mag
 M: i mean, i ACT self righteous in a fight
  but i know, deep down, i’m not
K: only you know how i feel
  im like, damn it, i have to be so good for a year beforehand
  so i can just CRUSH the offender in a fight
 but i can never manage to be that good
  oh mag
  only you understand
  everyone else would think i was a machiavellian serial killer
M: no no no no
  you’re as normal as me
 K: that bad, huh?

M: shut up cowfucker

Lost in Temp-land

My friend Mag and I spend all day temping being the Oscar Wildes of gchat. As such, I’m going to start posting some of our conversations. Because I’m a lazy cow.

Mag and Kate on The Value of a Good Day’s Work

M:  want to hear some irony? i actually have work to do today and it’s annoying me
K:  haha
thats how i always feel about work
im like, how  DARE you give me filing
 M:  but i wanted work yesterday
iv’e been so bored
i’m like… i’m useless
i’m like a wart on toad
or worse
 K:  warts on toads are at least decorative  

M:  well.  i am pretty cute.
so i have that going for me
i’ll just sit at my desk and pose when i get bored
 K:yeah if i had a mirror over my desk id be happy for hours
like a budgie
 Sent at 2:03 PM on Friday

Nuff said

Re: Jezebel’s latest sex post:(http://jezebel.com/5028835/sex-without-condoms-is-actually-better-than-diamonds-people)

“..you know, when picasso took a shit, he didn’t call it a ’sculpture.’ he knew the difference. that’s what made him picasso. and if i’m wrong about that, i mean, if i totally miss the point here and somehow puking up your own…neuroses all over people’s laps is actually art, then you oughta at least realize there’s a price to it all…you know? somebody pays for your two minutes on cnn…there has to be a line between really saying something and just…needing attention..”.

The Shape of Things

Safe sex and the Jezebel

Until very recently, I was a prolific commenter on a site called Jezebel. Jezebel, as my dear friend Trixie from Toronto has written(http://buttercuppunch.wordpress.com/2008/07/06/feminism-some-people-are-doing-it-wrong/) was a site on which feminists of all ages and stripes could gather and sharpen their wits-whether debating politics, exchanging sex tips, or saying cutting things about celebrity outfits. It was, for me, a place to learn- a community that challenged and touched and encouraged women from all backgrounds. ‘Twas a magical land!

I, and several other of the most prolific commenters, was banned from Jezebel in the fall-out from this much-blogged scandal. (http://www.huffingtonpost.com/lizz-winstead/jezebelism_b_110903.html) I think much of what needed to be said about Tracie ‘Slut Machine’ Egan’s comments on rape in this interview- and her comments in the past-  has already been said. Heck, there was even a cartoon! (Not that she seems to have learned too much- she’s said “[Lizz]’s kinda the rapist in the situation” about the interview: http://www.onedatatime.com/dick_liker/2008/07/taken-out-of-context-i-must-seem-so-strange.html#comment-122587182  HEY TRACIE! MAYBE STAY AWAY FROM RAPE REFERENCES FOR A WHILE!)

What has been overshadowed in the justifiable outrage over her comments on rape, however, was the comments both Moe and Tracie made about birth control- or lack thereof. Let’s peek, shall we?

Moe: Pulling out always works for me”
Tracie: “And I know it’s an irresponsible thing to day, but it’s [Pulling Out] The Most Fun Way Not To Get Pregnant”

Teeheehee. Okay, whatever, so two chicks go on an interview show and talk about how they have sex without condoms- who cares? Normally I would just roll my eyes and ignore it, but this is part of a pattern on Jezebel- much the same way that Tracie’s ‘confusion’ about  what rape is, and how it happens, is part of her pattern.  For some time,  sexual misinformation, and unsafe sex information, has been popping up on Jezebel in Tracie and Moe’s posts. It ranges from Tracie claiming that herpes can only be spread during an outbreak (WRONG), to Moe writing about how withdrawal is just as effective as condoms and that STDs were no big deal.(http://jezebel.com/5019630/yeah-people-wore-condomswhen-the-naked-gun-was-in-theaters#viewcomments. Also http://nymag.com/daily/intel/2008/06/new_yorkers_dont_wear_condoms.html#hp .)  In fact, the SAFEST information on Jezebel I’ve seen recently was not, in fact, on Jezebel, but a posted item  from Seventeen magazine (http://jezebel.com/5024266/its-fun-to-be-seventeen–unless-of-course-youre-seventeen):

Hm!

So what’s the big deal? Surely no one is turning to Jezebel for sexual advice? Surely no one is taking someone whose moniker is “Slut Machine”’s advice on sex? Ha. Here’s a comment from Tracie’s blog, onedatatime:

“i lost my virginity last week & the only thing i could think right after was ‘I hope my life, & my sex life is half as great & interesting as Tracy’s, I’d be happy with that.’
your the hero of a sixteen year old, who’s half way round the world.
i just really wanted you to know, i think your awesome.

Posted by:chloe. | April 18, 2008 at 05:39 AM “

Holy Jeebus.

You may say that Tracie and Moe don’t have a responsibility to practice safe sex simply because young women like “chloe” look up to them.  Totally correct! No one has any right to say what they should or shouldn’t do in the sack. However, they should not wilfully SPREAD sexual misinformation. There’s a difference. It’s the difference between drunk-driving and bragging about/ recommending drunk-driving to others.  Tracie and Moe seem to think that if they do a kind of la-la-la-I-can’t-hear-you-young-women-don’t-look-up-to-me-la-la-la song and dance, they are absolved of accountability. Tracie, especially, has very little excuse for spreading unsafe sex information- she has an advice column. Advising strangers about their sex lives confers upon you the responsibility to actually give them safe, sane advice.

 I appreciate that Moe and Tracie’s sex stories are about reality, not the ideal, but it is WRONG to actively promote unsafe sex. Fully one-fourth of New York City’s adults have herpes (  http://wcbstv.com/local/herpes.new.york.2.743868.html)  and HIV is on the rise again, especially in young women( http://www.nyc.gov/html/doh/html/ah/ah.shtml). An estimated 1 in 70 New Yorkers is infected with HIV. Actively or passively encouraging women-especially young women, who are amongst the most vulnerable- to have unprotected sex is, quite possibly, endangering their lives. 

It’s easy to shrug Jezebel off as a silly website with little effect on women’s lives, but I believe  women (especially the teenagers who read the site) will read these posts,imitate their role models, and suffer the consequences. I don’t ask that Moe or Tracie be less honest about their sexual activities; I ask that they be a positive force rather than a negative one- not spreading misinformation, for example.  No one has the right to tell these women to have safe sex in their private lives, but I appeal to- them? Jezebel? Anna? Nick Denton?- to not spread harmful misinformation or actively encourage unsafe sex.  Moe and Tracie have this amazing forum in which thousands of women read their writing every day; with that comes some responsibility, unsexy as it is. Ain’t it a bitch.

 

 

JESUS FUCKING CHRIST. After I originally wrote this post, Moe came out with this lovely piece:http://jezebel.com/5028835/sex-without-condoms-is-actually-better-than-diamonds-people, in which she explains that condomless sex is sooooo whatevs, because STDs are mostly just awkward. Hey, Moe? Last time I checked, HIV is not cureable, and the fact that you’re a privileged young non-injecting drug user doesn’t make you immune. Jesus fucking Christ. It would be laughable if it were’nt such an  slap in the face.

 

BLOOD MONKEY!!!!

My day job is at a production company which make TV movies, some of which are pretty good and some of which are just embarassing. My favorite of these movies is “BLOOD MONKEY!”, a film about a tribe of man-eating monkeys in the Amazon. Now, the movie itself is pretty…fascinating, but I was so inspired by the concept that I decided to write an alternate script. Below, the rough draft of my masterpiece:

My script for “Blood Monkey”. 

BLOOD MONKEY, STARRING BEN AFFLECK AND TIA CARRERE

with LUCY LAWLESS as DR. MILICENT TIRARE, zoologist

Scene I: a remote jungle

BEN: Isn’t  this REMOTE JUNGLE amazing, Tiffany? Soo lush and beautiful. Just like you.

TIA: Oh, Cliff. (giggles)

BEN: Come here, hot stuff.

TIA: Cliff, we shouldn’t. Hee hee hee. Oh, that tickles! What if someone sees us?

BEN: Don’t be ridiculous, baby. There’s no one here but birds and poisonous frogs. Just you and me…

TIA: Oh, Cliff! Ohhh. Cliff, mmmm….

(A sound- a tree branch breaking).

TIA: What was that?!!!

BEN: What was what?

TIA: That noise! Cliff…

BEN: Probably just a bird. C’mere.

(A rustle in the bushes.)

TIA: There it was again! Oh my god, Ben..I mean Cliff. What if…

BEN: What if what? How does this darn thing unhook?

TIA: What if it’s…Remember those hikers? That were found..(whispers) half-eaten… covered…

BEN: With bananas? That’s a myth, baby. Come one, I thought we came out here to have fun. Relax.Just…relax…

TIA: Oh, Cliff. Hee hee hee.

FROM THE TREES DIRECTLY ABOVE, A HUGE RUSTLING NOISE. A GHOSTLY SHRIEK.

BEN: What the…?

A RUSH OF MOVEMENT. CAMERA PANS AWAY. ALL WE SEE IS GOUTS OF BLOOD HITTING THE FOREST FLOOR. SCREAMS.

TIA: OH, GOD NO!!!! NO!!!!!!!!

BEN: TIFFANY, RUN!RUN!!!! YEAAAGHHH!

Same floor, obviously weeks later. LUCY LAWLESS, as DR. MILICENT TIRARE, examines a half-eaten shoe, covered with gore and hairs.

JUNGLE TRIBESMAN #1:  Has the demon who killed your family so long ago come again to wreak havoc on humanity, O Shaman?

LUCY LAWLESS: Yes, Tonto. I am afraid he will never be appeased, this..

JUNGLE TRIBESMAN #1: oH gODS!

LUCY LAWLESS:…this Blood Monkey.

(Tonto prostrates himself as wild tribal drums beat and LAWLESS shakes her fist at the sky, impotently cursing the trees in a cry of terrible rage.)

LUCY LAWLESS: BLOOD MONKKKKKKEEEEYYYYY!!!!!!

Top Ten Things to Do When Trapped in Temp Job

10.) Think about scratching butt. As impulse builds, resist. Feel butt getting itchier and itchier. Become convinced one has pressing medical issue related to butt-scratching. Furtively look around cubicle. While maintaining blank face,  scratch butt. Stare blankly into space.

9.) Stare blankly into space.

8.) Smell something weird.  Sniff self. Confirm it is not, in fact, self. Conclude that the person in next cubicle MUST change diet/ cologne/ mouthwash immediately. Consider writing an anonymous note.

7.) Think about lunch.

6.) Go on facebook for about the 47th time in a day. Get pissed off that no one has written comments on your wall in the last ten minutes; reflect that perhaps you should drink less coffee.

5.) Supervisor walks by! Intently stare at computer; furrow brow seriously. Open up an Excel document as if you had any idea what to do with an Excel document.

4.) Go to bathroom.

3.)Examine split ends.

2.) Do google search on all of your friends/ enemies/ former flames. Secretly hope that image search of latter two produces wan/ flabby/ regretful-looking pictures.

1.) Practice holding breath, out of both boredom and obscure hope that you actually pass out, therein guaranteeing you get to go home early. Keep Excel document open on computer; amuse self by writing dirty phrases.