Ze Feelings

Face it. You've lost that lovin' feeling.

Okay when I say you, I mean me. But I say it in the hopes that someone out there feels the same way I do too. Jesus, what am I, penning a pop song?

Let's get back to what I like to call "the feelings." The Feelings (TM) are not the foreign impulses that overcome you when you decide to opt out of running over that kitten/squirrel/handicapper. No, "the feelings" are pre-pubescent-reminiscent (and okay for me, also very post-pubescent) sexual tinglings. And I might as well point out right now that if you are experiencing sexual tinglings by running over kittens or "cappers" then you've got much bigger problems than wasting time reading my blog.

I was reminded of "the feelings" because I recently experienced them as an adult, and were brought on not by watching Laybrinyth for the 45th time, NO, they were brought on by a real live boy. When, who was the last thing that gave you The Feelies?

For me, one or a combination of the following things gave me "the feelings" (and the beauty about my list is that it will be so different from yours, and no one can or should have to explain why weird things give them the feelings. Unless again it's kittens. Then you do have some essssplaining to do):

1) The movie Labyrinth - Bowie. In tights. With make-up. I think a simple ? sums that one up.

2) Kittens - JUST JOKING!! Hahahahhahaha.

3) The book Are You There God? It's Me, Margaret - Are you there Mom? Dad? Seriously, don't come in right now. I'M READING. Leave me alone!!!!

4) Austin Powers - Don't get it either. Could be the Brit Teeth.

5) Yule Brynner in The Ten Commandments. Combination of things at work here. The sandals + an open skirt + neato braid coming out the top of this bald tanned head. Dunno. Works.

6) The green man on crossing lights. I don't feel like I can or ever will be able to explain this, but let me tell you, navigating my way through a modern city is fu-un.

The Feelings (TM). They come from many un-expected people and places. When you get that lovin' feelin' back, embrace it people.

PS - Seriously, did you believe No. 6? Jeesh. Check yourself.

Karen Fantana

Flarting With Disaster

No, that's not a typo Captain Pedantic. I have finally come up with a verb for the way I engage with the male species. I'm a terrible flirt. And I don't mean that I flirt more than is necessary. What I mean is I SUCK at flirting. See I don't flirt, I flart.

Def: FLART: - 1) The act of mangling words, distorting your face, putting your foot so far down your big gob you're eatin' knee, cracking lame jokes, calling attention to random sweat patches that have appeared on your person in an attempt to attract the opposite sex.
2) a.k.a. Flirting gone wrong.

I wouldn't be worrying about my shortcomings in this area, however as the years roll on I wonder, "Am I actually getting worse at this? Could I possibly be screwing up the first step in attracting el Mano, thus never getting the date, thus never having a relationship, thus never getting married, thus being resigned to eating single cheese slices and watching the movie SINLGES (oh the Alanis Morrisette Irony of it all), SINGLE-Y for the rest of my life?

If you think I'm over-reacting, here is a snippet of recent flarting:

BOY: Well this weather sure is getting a little crazy huh?

ME: I studied piano at a Japanese music school for ten years.

BOY: Oh right...wow, that's uh, that's impressive.

ME: Yes I'm very good.

BOY: I don't doubt that. So this weather....

ME: I tan well.

BOY: Oh that's nice. I don't tan so well, I'm British. Ha ha ha.

Me: I do.


Aaaaaaaaaannd I don't really need to finish that conversation do I? DO I? Do you want me to finish that or are you adequately embarrassed for me, and almost mildy embarrassed yourself?

I take comfort in believing that flarting in front of men is a common condition. I pray one day another woman will tell me that she too has flarted many times. But dear god, once the flart is out there, boy does the stink linger. You've really got to do something spectacular and / or slutty to recover from these episodes. And no, I don't know what I was thinking when I was speaking. I appear to be making some random statements of fact in order to impress. Because having a handle on Japanese music techniques and having good pigmentation and solar tolerance is important to men.

I can still smell my own rotten verbal stench. Fack.

Karen Fantana

The Gripes Of Wrath

Never one to be irreverant and 'of my time' I'm only just catching onto the multifarious mantras of the eighties. Like 'Beat It!' Boy did I have great night in last night.

Or 'Girls just wanna have fun'. Good god, we DO! I've operating under the assumption that 'Girls just wanna have an ok time.' Life is looking up people.

Okay, so I'm embracing eighties 'live it up mentality' but there's still some things in this world bothering me. Important things. And in hommage to a great band of the eighties I must shout, shout and let it all out. For these are the things I can do without. I give you THE GRIPES OF WRATH (yes that clever second reference to another genius band of the eighties took me all morning. But it is killer non?).

You'll be glad to know that THE GRIPES is going to be a continuing thing (there's a lot of shit we can do without people) so I'm starting off with food related type things. Now to get to the most pressing issues of the day... I'm really sorry to get political on yer ass, it's been a while:

1) THE FAKE GRASS IN SUSHI SETS. Can we stop with this now? Does this add any aesthetic value whatsoever? And it doesn't even resemble grass. Have you ever caught anyone pick out that green plastic fence and go "Oh my God, I can't believe that's NOT grass!! HAHAHAHA. I'm so stupid.'"
Am I to believe the Japanese can't craft something a little more authentic? Hello Miyagi. This surely is a travesty.
Lastly, the faux grass is cutting my fingers to shit.

"Would you like some soy with your sushi?"

"Uh no thanks. I think my gushing flesh wound should salt this bitch up quite nicely."


2) PRODUCT RANGE DIVERSIFICATION. Especially in confectionary. Please, just stop. If you ever meet anyone at a party who tells you they're in product development, bitch slap them straight accross their shiny and freshly micro-dermal abraised face ASAP.
Give yourself a Kit Kat, give yourself a break you say? A Kit Kat AND a break I say? Well that sounds mighty nice. Maybe I would if I could find said original Kit Kat. 'Cause all I'm seeing is fuckin' Grandaddy Monster Size Kit Kat-o-Mint Jelly Bitch Bites. TM.
I don't see no original Kit Kat red. So screw you, confectionary industry.


3) WAITERS WHO INSIST I TRY THE CHEAP ASS HOUSE WINE BEFORE THEY POUR. There is nothing, nothing more depressing than acting posh when you're fucking poor. This is a perfect example. Can anyone out there pinpoint exactly when the service industry adopted this pointless excercise? My elbows are sticking to the laminated checkered table cloth, I'm probably pissed already - why do I want to taste what we all know is the most low rent alcoholic beverage in the joint? If you went into the storage and room and emptied out a bottle of vinegar and ketchup and mixed it up I would probably give you the same reaction. And now all my friends are staring at me awkwardly to see what face I could possibly come up with that would adequately describe the piss they are about to imbibe.
Waiter, I really can do without this.


Yeah so there's only 3 food related gripes I need to get off my chest right now. But trust me, there's more where that came from. What, oh children of the 80's (or any decade really), can YOU do without?

Karen Fantana