Tuesday, March 12, 2013

witches look better with cleavage and tales of an animal hoarder

I walk into her first floor one-bedroom apartment. It’s clean and well organized. The artwork on the wall is framed and arranged in a random pattern that denotes a sense of not being random at all. I can tell she probably had spent hours putting those hangings up. Scrutinizing over where her framed “imagine” typography print should go.

I decide she’s a graphic designer, all within the first few seconds of stepping inside the threshold. She apologizes for the place being messy. I make a mental note to never let her see my apartment. Not that she would, that’s silly.

I get the tour and she shows me where all the pertinent supplies will be for next week. I get a copy of her keys and give her my business card with all the ways to contact me.

She smiles exuberantly and exclaims how glad she is I’m not a psycho.

I smile and say “Me too.”

That was the start of my Monday. But I guess I should start with the end of my weekend.

I wish I could say I did something painfully exciting, when in fact I spent from Thursday until Sunday horribly stressed out. I was cooped up in my apartment with a few overnight clients. By a few, I mean 5 dogs, not including my 2 dogs. If you were assuming I felt like a crazy lesbian animal hoarder that should be put on network television, you’d be assuming correctly.

Although my apartment is clean, and the dogs were all under 9lbs. None of them managed to chew a hole in my couch and live inside the stuffing, so that says something, right?

Sunday after 2 of the dogs went home, Kh and I felt liberated enough to go to the movies with a couple of friends. We got picked up and headed off to see The Great and Powerful Oz in iMax. I’ve only ever seen one other movie in iMax, and that was SeaRex. (Which I totally took Kh to see on one of our first dates, I’m awesome right?)

I sat there, with my head slightly tilted to one side, biting the inside of my lip, wondering if the movie I was watching was a complete load of shit, or if it was just the sheer in your face magnitude the 3D element gave to it. I was quite sure I’d have an image  of James Franco’s gigantic face seared to the inside of my eyelids if I closed them for to long.

I stopped wondering when I looked over at Kh, who had a look of “I smell horse shit and it won’t go away”.  Yay, confirmation from my girl friend that the movie was garbage.

Barely even under the surface of the movie is a severe undertone of sexism, and not a single empowered female was shown. Every woman was depicted as a sniveling emotional mess whose world and core values get completely destroyed when a man doesn’t return her affections. The only woman who doesn’t seem to grovel at the mans feet happens to be a woman who puts her own potential and power aside to help coddle and bring a man to his own self worth. When all along she could probably do some serious damage on her own, not wait for a man to save her.

Or to save the damn munchkins. At least the witches had sex appeal, eh?

After the movie I had 2 ½ beers and we all commiserated on how terrible it was to stare at James Franco’s face that large for so long. 

And now I need to sleep for 3 days straight. 

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