Just when I thought Twitter was a useless social networking site, bogged down by an arbitrary word count, crippling look and feel limitations, and massive redundancy in the face of the FAR more interesting and informative Facebook Status Updates, I get this notice in my Inbox:
Would I like to follow Jon Hamm?
Uhhhh? YA!
So if at some point during the third season of Mad Men, Don Draper looks off into the middle distance, affects a distant look on his face and describes a moment from his past as such: “There was a woman. Bathed in light. She wore purple. And her lips? BOOF!”, you have The Jay to thank.
In the wake of a raft of reasons to never look at a member of the opposite sex again, let alone date them: Chris Brown whomping on Rihanna, Beyonce repping Single Ladies whilst married to an impossibly rich impresario, Dan and Serena just never getting a fair shot, the possibility that dating a cute dying guy could result in him haunting you for eight excruciating episodes only to find out that you’re dying, too, the entirety of He’s Just That Into You (excepting Ben Affleck), I wanted to give my lonely-hearted geeks out there a little reminder that it’s gonna be OK.
It’s OK that you had no one special in your life on Valentine’s Day. It’s OK that you weren’t shelling out insane amounts of money to take someone to a fancy restaurant and pay for bland food from a prixe fix menu. It’s OK that that cute boy or cute girl turned you down, broke up with you, or doesn’t know you exist. It’s OK to be on your own.
I am. I spend Valentine’s Day pouring wine for 50 couples and then went to a play with some friends, came home and watched Jonas Bros (no “the” anymore) ruin Alec Baldwin’s SNL. And you know what? It was excellent. Well, not the Jonas Bros part, obvs.
My point is this: It’s all going to be OK. Know how I know that?
Because this guy:
Is engaged to this girl:
And this guy:
Is engaged to this girl:
Do you see? Anything is possible. And nothing matters, not even looks, when you’re funnysmartandgreat (Britney said that shit, and she can make a dance floor into a circus, so you know it’s true.). Be your great, geeky self and fantastic people will come into your life.
And it’s not just geeky guys. All my geekettes out there, Tina Fey is not making myths. Check out who Jon Hamm is with in real life:
If that butterface can snag the most handomest handsome that ever handsomed, there is hope for anyone.
But, just so you don’t think I’m setting outrageously unattainable expectations about the dating world, let me clarify: realign your expectations, you will not be dating Christina Hendricks or Jon Hamm anywhere in the near future.
Even in real life, people who look like this still end up together:
Look: I have no allusions that Natalie Portman and I will bump into each other on the street and it’ll be like that Mad About You episode where Paul and Jamie Buchman had never met and when they saw each other they just knew, and he goes “Let’s go home” and they live happily sitcom-ed ever after (her malignant forehead, notwithstanding). That ain’t happening. But I’m not gonna dwell on my singledom, either. And neither should you.
But in a world where David Spade knocked up a Playboy Playmate, David Silver is banging Megan Fox, Julia Roberts once married Lyle Lovett and Jimmy Fallon married an old person, it’s time we take a page not from ludicrous Kate Hudson romcoms, but from (celeb)reality. And to consider that though he’s just not into you, maybe you’re just not into that douche, either.
How about we just pull a Kelly Taylor and choose ourselves? Look how well that worked for her: she got addicted to coke, burned in a fire, recruited by a cult, shot in the stomach, nearly killed by Tracy Middendorf, knocked up and then ditched and now works for her old High School. But she looks FABulous.
And if you’re still down about a having had a lonely V-Day, let me end with this: guys, at least you’re not this fucker, and girls, at least you’re not dating him.
“Acting” is the embodiment and execution of emotion and story as performed through a human vessel. It is the creation of energy and magic. It is reading words on a page and giving them life and pain and joy and intrigue. It is the art of playing pretend, well.
Allow me now to give you a visual example of excellence in the craft of acting.
THIS is acting:
Haunting, mysterious, sexy, subtle, instantly engaging. And he’s only walking down the street and doing a voice-over.
Now.
THIS is the opposite of that:
Gabriel Byrne doing Gabriel Byrne, as played by Gabriel Byrne. What it is NOT, is “acting”.
Hollywood Foreign Press Association, you have exactly one year to figure out a way to learn yourself an education. This mistake will not be tolerated a second time. And you do NOT want Don Draper coming to you for an apology.
And no, awarding Mad Men as Best TV Drama does not count. That’s just fact.
In the best piece of music news since Britney Spears went to the Circus, Mad Men, the absolute, no-questions-asked, don’t you DARE say “The Wire” is better cause NO, one day I will marry January Jones, kids named Glenn are not to be trusted, don’t EVER mess with Joan Halloway, BEST show on television, is FINALLY releasing a CD of Original Score. Composed by David Carbonara, releasing on the 13th, the haunting melodies that underscore the haunting Don Draper middlle distance monologues can be yours to keep.
Do I even need to tell you why you should own this? Didn’t think so.
But in case you have massive, detrimental indecisiveness, let me learn you an education: there are only 4 reasons why someone would not purchase this album IMMETES:
1. You are hearing-impaired.
2. You are dead.
3. You have never seen or heard of Mad Men, which, in that case, get the hell off my website. I don’t even want to KNOW you.
4. You are the ACTUAL FICTIONAL CHARACTERS in Mad Men, hear the music over your daily lives, and thus, have no use for the score. Also, CD’s don’t exist in 1962.
After taking under advisement Beyo-err… Sasha Fierce’s sage advice that “if you like than you should have put a ring on it”, and worried that I might possibly have offended that which I hold quite dear by NOT putting a ring on it yet, even though I love it so, I would like to take this opportunity to claim full-on ring placement on the following people, places and things.
The Jay OFFICIALLY puts a ring on:
- “Sex on Fire” by Kings of Leon
- The cold, Nordic disenchantment of Betty Draper.
- The triumphant, MILF-tastic return of Britney Spears.
- Beyonce wagging her vagina at me (seconds :51 – :57).
- My friend Audiebird, currently rising the BFF charts, who not only introduced me to the Beyonce song and video in question, but carefully and patiently explained to me WHY the song and video are so great, as such is my ignorance of the language of pop music. And also for giving me 15% of all my material. And 8% of all my recent vocal mannerisms.
- The poem “Mayakovsy” by Frank O’Hara.
- Keanu Reeves (natch)
- Random text messages from friends you haven’t seen in forever that lead to spontaneous, fun plans.
- Canada Dry Diet Ginger Ale
- Chicago hot dogs with everything on it.
- My secret belief that Twilight will NOT be the megahit everyone claims it will be. Who REALLY cares about the story of a passive teen girl who falls for a vampire? Seriously, that’s a movie I need to see? Call me when someone gets attacked by a Dementor or plays some Quidditch.
- Old Barney
- Les Grossman on the phone, telling the bad guys to “take a step back… and literally fuck your face.”
- Andy Samberg as Mark Wahlberg talking to animals, resulting in Mark throwing a hissy fit in the press about being parodied, even though it’s a compliment on par with Don Draper holding the door open for you, and then mysteriously showing up on SNL days later to satirize himself, most likely at the behest of his Agent who told him: “you get your ass ON THAT SHOW and say hi to the mother of ANY animal they put in front of you. Even Fred Armisen! How DARE you get your git up about a skit about YOU when you’re BARELY an A-list star? Take a page from Alec Baldwin and go be a mensch. You got it? Good! Now take a step back and literally fuck your face!”
- The realization that if I’m white, I’m Ben Affleck.
- The 2006 Late Harvest Viognier from Zaca Mesa.
- Dermatology
- Anything KT Tunstall has sung in her entire life.
- Mad Men (super natch), and related: Don Draper’s Guide To Picking Up Women.
- Nicole Ritchie on Chuck. There, I said it.
- Gmail’s new ability to block e-mails sent late at night as a precaution against your own poor judgment, a feature I wish T-Mobile would look into (it would save Drunk The Jay from having to write so many apology texts).
- The Miami Dolphins Wildcat Formation
- Facebook status updates that are written in the correct tense.
- The trailer for Australia.
- The trailer for Bride Wars.
- All you guys being cool about me taking a small break from blogging. Recess is over, I promise.
- And of course, OF COURSE, Eddie Murphy’s Giant Head.
In the wake of a raft of reasons to never look at a member of the opposite sex again, let alone date them: Chris Brown whomping on Rihanna, Beyonce repping Single Ladies whilst married to an impossibly rich impresario, Dan and Serena just never getting a fair shot, the possibility that dating a cute dying guy could result in him haunting you for eight excruciating episodes only to find out that you’re dying, too, the entirety of He’s Just That Into You (excepting Ben Affleck), I wanted to give my lonely-hearted geeks out there a little reminder that it’s gonna be OK.
