Who loves Michael Jackson more than me?!
NOBODY. Many have tried, but they shall never succeed. What is it about this dude that just moves me? Well, for one, I like his mystery. Being a suspicious person by nature, I'm always on the look out for the layers. I can't take anything or anyone at face value, and Michael represents to me one of those ultimately layered folks.
I mean, c'mon. You look at him. You see him. The ridiculously smooth (yes, I'm a hater), colorless skin. The heavily lined eyes. Those red lips. That famously infamous nose. Your instinct is to judge. 'AHA' your inner voice howls. 'Here's a guy I can rip apart gleefully, with little guilt, cuz it's obvious old dude has got some screws loose. Here exists a man who wears his vanity and insecurity so openly, I cannot help but judge him. Look at him, he's beggin' to be judged.'
So, contradictory chick that I am, I fight against the judgment. Look a little closer, and see this pair of brown eyes that shine with shrewdness and comprehension. 'I know what you're thinking,' those eyes say to me. 'And I don't give a shit.' And I laugh, because I've given that look out a time or two. Hell, it's the mask I wear daily, just like Michael. So, fuck 'em, Mike. We ain't the only ones with issues.
Man, I am in the mood for a really good party. I wanna throw a party. One of our famous, (ok, we just like to think of them as famous) laid back, get crazy parties where the folks just want to chill. It's been a while since we've done that. It's hard to do here, because the people are so ... sometimey for lack of a better word. I have to invite a billion people, and let everyone know about it light years in advance so that they can 'plan' for it. Then, here come the questions, what kind of food, what kind of music, who's going to be there, what time does it end. Are kids allowed cuz I'm not coming if kids are gonna be there. OR, is it gonna be a kid party? I'll bring my kids, but then I won't have fun because the kids are there and HEAVEN FORBID I leave my kid alone long enough to relax and chill and have fun. *shrug* Damn y'all, it's a party, all of that shit is irrelevant.
And seriously, what is this whole 'i have a child and so i am dead' mentality? I remember going every damned where Barb went. She had a kid, her friends had kids, some of her friends didn't have kids. But they hung out! And those who had kids brought them little motherfuckers along and we played together while our parents played. And yes, there was booze, there was pot, there were cigarettes, there was profanity, and dare I say it-- WE SURVIVED! The kids ran around like idiots, the parents played around like idiots, a good time was had by all. Well, except me, I usually had a book and was off in a corner reading somewhere, but that's what I wanted to do, and BJ was cool with that. There was none of this... clinging that I see so much of. It's funny. I know a lot of women who have children, but these chicks never hang out together with the kids. They have 'play dates'. How asinine.
But it's not just them, either. It's everyone who has changed. My family, the most entertaining bunch of people I know, has become the most boring, middle aged, arrogant, self satisfied, pompous group of people in existence! I mean, they've always been that anyway, but still, at least they knew how to let it all go sometimes and have fun. It shocked me, this past year, when they refused to party. I was like, where was I when this memo went out? Who declared a moratorium on parties? And why now, when I'm ready to do it. How come we couldn't have stopped when I thought parties and hanging out was lame? Silly me. Now I'm lonely and I have only myself to blame.
Cuz, you know, that is what I miss about having a really close bunch of friends. I miss hanging. That's one of the biggest differences I notice here. People will go to clubs before they will go to one another's houses and just chill together. Or, they'll meet over so-and-sos house, and then sit around wondering what next to do. I miss knowing that even though there's nothing planned for the weekend, you know you have plans for the weekend because you have your boys. Or chicks, or whoever. And nobody argues, nobody gives a shit who's pissed at whom because it's nobody's goddamned business. Nobody's pointing fingers or whispering or backstabbing. Nobody leads, nobody follows. You just... hang.
Maybe I'm too old for that shit. Maybe adults don't do that.
I mean, c'mon. You look at him. You see him. The ridiculously smooth (yes, I'm a hater), colorless skin. The heavily lined eyes. Those red lips. That famously infamous nose. Your instinct is to judge. 'AHA' your inner voice howls. 'Here's a guy I can rip apart gleefully, with little guilt, cuz it's obvious old dude has got some screws loose. Here exists a man who wears his vanity and insecurity so openly, I cannot help but judge him. Look at him, he's beggin' to be judged.'
So, contradictory chick that I am, I fight against the judgment. Look a little closer, and see this pair of brown eyes that shine with shrewdness and comprehension. 'I know what you're thinking,' those eyes say to me. 'And I don't give a shit.' And I laugh, because I've given that look out a time or two. Hell, it's the mask I wear daily, just like Michael. So, fuck 'em, Mike. We ain't the only ones with issues.
Man, I am in the mood for a really good party. I wanna throw a party. One of our famous, (ok, we just like to think of them as famous) laid back, get crazy parties where the folks just want to chill. It's been a while since we've done that. It's hard to do here, because the people are so ... sometimey for lack of a better word. I have to invite a billion people, and let everyone know about it light years in advance so that they can 'plan' for it. Then, here come the questions, what kind of food, what kind of music, who's going to be there, what time does it end. Are kids allowed cuz I'm not coming if kids are gonna be there. OR, is it gonna be a kid party? I'll bring my kids, but then I won't have fun because the kids are there and HEAVEN FORBID I leave my kid alone long enough to relax and chill and have fun. *shrug* Damn y'all, it's a party, all of that shit is irrelevant.
And seriously, what is this whole 'i have a child and so i am dead' mentality? I remember going every damned where Barb went. She had a kid, her friends had kids, some of her friends didn't have kids. But they hung out! And those who had kids brought them little motherfuckers along and we played together while our parents played. And yes, there was booze, there was pot, there were cigarettes, there was profanity, and dare I say it-- WE SURVIVED! The kids ran around like idiots, the parents played around like idiots, a good time was had by all. Well, except me, I usually had a book and was off in a corner reading somewhere, but that's what I wanted to do, and BJ was cool with that. There was none of this... clinging that I see so much of. It's funny. I know a lot of women who have children, but these chicks never hang out together with the kids. They have 'play dates'. How asinine.
But it's not just them, either. It's everyone who has changed. My family, the most entertaining bunch of people I know, has become the most boring, middle aged, arrogant, self satisfied, pompous group of people in existence! I mean, they've always been that anyway, but still, at least they knew how to let it all go sometimes and have fun. It shocked me, this past year, when they refused to party. I was like, where was I when this memo went out? Who declared a moratorium on parties? And why now, when I'm ready to do it. How come we couldn't have stopped when I thought parties and hanging out was lame? Silly me. Now I'm lonely and I have only myself to blame.
Cuz, you know, that is what I miss about having a really close bunch of friends. I miss hanging. That's one of the biggest differences I notice here. People will go to clubs before they will go to one another's houses and just chill together. Or, they'll meet over so-and-sos house, and then sit around wondering what next to do. I miss knowing that even though there's nothing planned for the weekend, you know you have plans for the weekend because you have your boys. Or chicks, or whoever. And nobody argues, nobody gives a shit who's pissed at whom because it's nobody's goddamned business. Nobody's pointing fingers or whispering or backstabbing. Nobody leads, nobody follows. You just... hang.
Maybe I'm too old for that shit. Maybe adults don't do that.