When Our Grown Kids Disappoint Us

I found this book hidden on top of a dresser earlier this week:



I didn't know what to make of it. I've read about a quarter of it so far and it's really boring. I'm far past where whichever one of my parents had it bookmarked (I'd bet the farm my dad was the one reading it) so I don't know if they gave up or read it and randomly placed a bookmark in there or what. It's a bunch of baby boomer shit about how great their generation is and how fucked their kid's generation is. There's also a lot about kids who get pregnant or get someone pregnant and are too fucked up on drugs to take care of the kid so they give that kid to their parents and then they steal their TV to buy more drugs. My parent's can totally relate to that.

I get that I'm not all that great. I can see that it would be embarrassing having their old kid living with them for the summer. It all makes sense. I'm not going to make any excuses for myself, even though, I naturally, have plenty. Do they have to read a fucking book about it, though? I mean, really... The book even talks about how to not hate your mentally ill children. What if I'm mentally ill? My uncle is mentally ill. Is it my fault if I am? Is it acceptable for a parent to hate their kid because he or she is mentally ill? I'm not mentally ill, though, at least not like my uncle, so I guess it's irrelevant. Finding that book did hurt my feelings a bit, but I felt a little bit better after reading some of it. It's just another not-so-subtle reminder to avoid hesitating in my efforts to move to Chicago. Also, there seems to be a Godard film festival at the Gene Siskel Film Center in November that I need to be at. Speaking of Godard...

I've seen a lot of movies in the past week. Another Netflix free trial has been treating me well. Since last weekend I've watched It's a Gift, My Little Chickadee (both W.C. Fields and both pretty funny), F for Fake (which is totally amazing) and a documentary about Welles' unfinished films called Orson Welles: One-Man Band and another documentary about Elmyr de Hory called Almost True: The Noble Art of Forgery (Elmyr de Hory is kind of the most interesting guy ever), The Apartment, Laurence Oliver's Hamlet, Shane (which I own and have seen ten times, but who doesn't want to watch it again? "Pa's got things for you to do. And mother wants you, I know she does!"), and Bob le Flambeur and Masculin feminin both twice. Bob le Flambeur was my first Melville and now I want to see everything he's ever done. Masculin feminin (as I said, speaking of Godard) was not really what I expected but it should have been. I liked it more than Bande à part and Le Mépris but it's got nothing on Breathless and Une femme est une femme. I still haven't seen Alphaville because I'm convinced I will not like it, but I will see it soon enough. Also, I don't know what my deal is with Bande à part. I should love it, but I don't. It deserves a second viewing.


So, in Masculin feminin, Chantal Goya, pictured right, is ridiculously cute with this weird kind of underbite smile she's got (she also has someone sort of zit or something on her nose, but I don't mind) and all. Apparently she was a pop star in real life at the time, kind of like what she played in the movie. I guess she played herself in the movie actually. Anyway, what I'm getting at is I've discovered Yé-yé girls and I love them all. It's like teenage girls singing Their Satanic Majesties Request, but sometimes more poppier and other times more fucked-up. Best genre of music ever.

In other French news, I'm going to once again learn how to speak French. My sister's students are getting new books in the fall so I'm getting a text book and a work book to learn with. This will be my fifth attempt at learning to speak French. I'm actually kind of interested this time, though, so we'll see how it goes.

Oh, yeah, I forgot to mention what a creep I am. I'm in love with all these French girls from the 50s and 60s now. I've been this way for a while now. It's my thing that I do. And there's this ridiculously hot girl in Bob le Flambeur who is always taking her pants off and her top off and everything else off because that's what often happens in French films. So, I think she's really hot and all. Nothing filthy or anything, but she was a babe and I found her naked areas to be attractive. After the film, I watched an interview with a co-star on the special features and he pointed out that this girl was all of FIFTEEN when the movie was filmed. Guuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuh... Whoops. I feel like a creep, but what are you going to do? In my defense, her IMDB birthdate indicates that she was 26 at the time the film was released and the movie (only) took two years to film, so, according to IMDB at least, my feelings for this gir -, er, woman, are very legal and acceptable. I wonder what the truth is, though. Hmm...

I drink green tea now. Or try to. I only drink it hot. I don't want to try it cold. This is new for me. I'm going to try and drink at least one cup a day this week. Force myself to love it. I've got to stop drinking soda. I've lost nine and a half pounds while still drinking soda but this half a pound is killing me. And once I lose ten pounds I'm going to want to lose twenty, right? While I probably won't manage such, I'm going to slowly try to continue losing weight and see what happens. I'm going to have to try and get a girlfriend when I move because I'm a total fucking loser if I don't, so I need to work now on not being ugly. My push ups are going well. I've definitely noticed a difference in my arms and chest. I'm doing sets of thirty now pretty easily. My sit ups are less impressive, but I'm ready to start working harder at that (no I'm not). And the bike riding is helping, too. Riding a bicycle two miles to try the 99 cent buffalo chicken sandwich at Wendy's (they're not good) has to be healthier than driving, right? I'm almost done with fast food in general. There's so little of it I can stand anymore, and here there aren't any fast food places like Chipotle or whatever that are actually kind of good. It's all shit here.

Hey, how about I talk about my boring life some more? What's that? You stopped reading several minutes ago? I don't blame you.

UPDATE: I also watched The Corndog Man again this week. That movie is so great. In terms of independent film (what it should be, not so much what it is), it's one of the best movies I've ever seen. One day I will make a movie in a similar fashion and it will be awesome and a failure and I will go bankrupt.