they found her on the heath in the jew corner

So since I'm in Mile End- land of the Hasids and their adorable children dressed in identical outfits- there's always alot of celebration for jewy holidays. But the most fabulous holiday HAS to be purim. Back in small town americana if there was any purim celebration it was happening behind closed doors, perhaps in people's basements with the lights off. But in mile end the streets are overflowing with jewish children dressed up as....well, really weird things. My roommate says that purim is like the jewish halloween but really it's a lot stranger than that. There's all these colorful hats and bells and feathers...which I have to say is very nice to see on a group of people that are usually dressed from head to toe in blacks, navy blues, and browns. A better holiday to compare it to might be Mardis Gras. Anyhoo, its awesome to see my jewy bros cut loose a little- so heppy purim!

After that little babble fit I'd like to take a moment to recognize one Jeanne, first time blogger and future chick lit novelist extraordinaire. Jeanne IS the queen of all that is witty, spicy, sexy, fun and hilarious and she NEEDS to show herself off to the whole bloggin' world! Blog, Jeanne, blog!

TV Review: True Blood

The commercial and critical success of the now classic HBO series "The Sopranos"  has inspired a new generation of great television that some critics believe even surpasses today's film world as the most important artistic influence on mass American culture. With such milestone shows as "Weeds" and "Dexter" joining the Showtime lineup, (accompanied recently by the fabulous entrance of the brilliant show "Mad Men" to  AMC) I would tend to agree with the critics that television is entering a new golden age with some of the most compelling, and often risky stories out there. 

The only risk that HBO's new show "True Blood" takes is the risk of being REALLY over the top- which it exceeds with glee. A high content of sex, language and violence can be integral to a well-plotted show, but on "True Blood" it is just gratuitous and pointless. The story of a psychic young woman in love with a vampire is set in a rural town in Louisiana but the characters are so exaggerated in their redneckery that you can only guess creator Alan Ball's prior knowledge of the "deep" south was watching a certain special scene in "Deliverance" over and over again. 

But everything about this show is horribly executed so that even a plot-line as complex as a newly out-of-the-closet race of vampires who drink synthetic blood instead of human blood called True Blood so that they can be accepted by society and can be found as easily as a can of Red Bull at a gas station- (breathe!) seems cliched and boring. My recommendation: if you want great over-the-top television, watch "Ugly Betty".  If the story of "True Blood" intrigues you, read the book. 

if pigs and pugs can live in harmony, so can i live among the french canadians

there ya go...

I think I have to re-name this blog, make it more "spicy" sounding

Here are the highlights of my first week in Montreal:

I get lost on le metro. 

Hasidic children form a line on the sidewalk and silently salute their father on the other side of the street. The father then climbs on top of the family car and takes a huge conch-shell out of his coat pocket- and blows it (making a thunderous foghorn sound throughout the city that no one on the street seems to notice but me). Despite my Jew-ish roots, I have no clue what's going on.

 I get lost on le bus. 

A man in shorts and smoking a cigar at 11 in the morning tries to sell me on an apartment right out of Animal House- complete with empty Pabst Blue Ribbon cans for decorating and mid-30 year old unshaven boys eating cold pizza and watching reruns of Entourage on the stained fuscia couch for roommates.  When I decline the offer he confesses that the "fine dining restaurant" he had earlier told me he owned was actually a "trap to exploit American tourists like me by selling horrible 'American Style' cuisine aka: with bacon on everything".  He shows me one of his restaurant's laminated place settings picturing a technicolor map of the United States you might find in your 4th grade history class and I immediately fall for him. 

I get lost on the street. 

ALOT:

 I go looking for the Apple Store to buy a laptop (on the fancy street 1600 St. Catherine) and end up on 1600 St. in the gay GAY Village. I burst crying into a middle-aged gay couple's patisserie shop who lets me wipe my tears away with one of his delicious croissants and recommends I take a left past the dildo n things shoppe across the street. 

I visit another apartment and it becomes immediately clear that the roommate who came before me was either a dominatrix homicidal maniac or a dentist from the dark ages because the blood red (communist red, big sharpee red) room is up to the brim with jars full of unidentifiable floating objects, francis bacon paintings hang from the walls, and a saw (I can only hope it's a musical one!) is nailed to the doorway. I tell the seller I just don't think I could live up to that and leave. 

But all this aside Montreal is amazing! Besides the incredible arts and culture scene, the friendly people, and that french but not TOO french european flair- there are bagel shops on every corner just like starbucks in america! And in the end, is there anything better than bagels? 

 

 

BURN AFTER READING: FILM REVIEW

During the ending credits of “Burn After Reading” I first came to the conclusion that I liked the film, secondly the realization that I was the only one in the theater that did, and thirdly that my instinctual response was the incorrect one between us.

To say I am a judgmental and critical person is to put it lightly- my opinions about art and culture, film especially, are more psychologically akin to religious zealotry than what most people would consider your every day “opinion”. My extremist opinions about film make me sound pretentious, which I undoubtedly am, but hopefully the sin of my fanaticism will be forgiven since like a horrible disease it is outside of my control (I relate to Kafka’s obsessive diary entries detailing an elaborate fantasy death of what he considered his insufferable brain and above all else- the imagination- YUP, pretentious). I usually wouldn’t talk about myself so much in a film review, but since it’s my first review and no one will probably read it I’ll give myself that allowance (It's good to give yourself treats once in a while, try rollo bars, theyre delicious!)

But back to the new Coen Brothers film- the fact that it IS the new Coen brothers film, fresh after the most universally acclaimed Coen film to date (No Country for Old Men) is extremely important to note when viewing the film. In many ways, the film is a carefully designed backlash film in response to the Coen’s recent success, which is actually a predictable move for the notoriously perverse filmmakers. The tone of Burn After Reading follows in the footsteps of Artaud’s Theater of Cruelty or the recent group of European film directors who take delight in “punishing” the audience (Lars Von Trier, Michael Haneke, etc). Burn After Reading is therefore created to be instantly disliked by the majority of critics and audience members who perhaps don’t take intellectual and emotional flagellation as kindly as I do. But it’s my guess that although most people will have a visceral reaction of disgust and confusion when watching this film, to their annoyance, the images of this film will haunt them: Frances Mcdormand walking down the green mile of possible madmen or lovers in a Washington park, or most potently Brad Pitt’s demonically idiotic smile right before he is shot through the forehead while hiding in George Clooney’s closet. Personally, a work of art only really intrigues me when I leave it not fully understanding what I just saw. While the clear lesson of “Burn” is to accept that you won’t understand much of what happened during the movie, giving up entirely on understanding the film is just another easy way out. The Coens are naturally mischevious filmmakers who never provide any easy answers, but perhaps what is most notable about this particular work is that it’s their most openly malicious towards the audience. If this is a good or bad artistic move on their part is a matter of taste, but it is clearly a natural move for such a pair of remarkable trickster artists. In conclusion, I recommend you to see this film and then hate it. 

Extremely personal thoughts and feelings of a young woman brought to you LIVE!

I never thought I was the kind of person who would write a blog. But then one day a friend told me I could get paid for it and the idea of easy money for something I do every day for free anyway appeals to me. But Wanda, you might ask as politely as possible, isn't that just a little bit the ideology of a common street walker? To which I would answer politely back "I WISH!" To be honest I don't think I could make any kind of living as a prostitute, Im what a pimp in bed-stuy might refer to as "an acquired taste". That's right, I just said "bed-stuy" like I've been there. So I guess what I'm trying to say here is: when selling your body and sense of self-respect for money doesn't work out for you, turn to blogging. And that's now exactly what I've done. Woot woot!

So what will this blog be about? What will keep my readers' pointer finger pressed firmly on the mouse scroll down key at all times? Well, I guess we'll just have to see. But I promise each post will be like finishing a chapter of  a Stephen King novel. And now, to prove it....

There was only one option. Kill the clown or suck the root like always. Not this time, thought Donny, this time I don't suck the root for nobody....Suddenly, out of nowhere, without any warning, completely without him knowing it, totally from behind his back came a-