weekend

so, after i got my hair trimmed on saturday morning, i went to see the acupuncturist. he is consistently mortified at the state my back is in. he's always super good to me because he's friends with my mom. and he's a nice man. my dad always makes jokes that my mom wants to have an affair with him. at least they'd better be jokes. because the thought of my mother having sex makes me want to vomit.

ANYWAY, i used to never think that acupuncture worked, but get a few of those needles in the right place and i fall asleep within 2 minutes. and it'll be a deep sleep. like the REM kind. he'll come back in 10-15 minutes and i'll already have had at least one dream. it's suprisingly relaxing. i'm going back this next saturday. my back isn't all fucked up like it normally is. it's nice. according to him, i need to learn how to relax. i don't know. i don't think it's something i can do. even when people might think i'm relaxed, i'm really not.

i'm just a fucking bundle of nerves.

but i'm paranoid because he's friends with my mom. so every time i see him, i ask him not to tell my mom about the tattoo on my back. for some reason, he thinks my mom is an open-minded woman. (oh, god, they'd better not be swingers!) i told him that she wasn't. he doesn't believe me. but he wasn't there when i got my ears pierced. it's not even like i was getting my 6th ear piercing or anything. i'm talking about the first ones. at the bottom. when i was 18 years old. i was fucking EIGHTEEN when i got my ears pierced. and my mother cried. not just cried, like sobbed or anything like that.

i mean the woman FLUNG HERSELF ONTO THE FLOOR, BEAT HER CHEST and CRIED. like WAILED.

drama queen.

at any rate, yeah. can you imagine what she'd do if she saw my tattoo? to this day, i don't wear tank tops to their home. i wear long t-shirts. long, colored t-shirts. it doesn't matter that they live in the hottest fucking place in california.

open-minded my ass. and you'd think she'd be a little less hard on me because my brother sold drugs. i mean, come on. at least i'm just putting a little ink on my skin. i'm not pushing people to do drugs and shit. but no. i think everything's just equally bad to her. no gray. just black and white.

but as crazy as my mom is, i still love her. i'd better. i mean, christ, i'm turning into her already. it's frightening.

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warning (for jeanette): the rest of the post is about the 2 movies we watched this weekend.

troy was HORRIBLE. i do have to say, i might want to find myself a leather mini-skirt, kinda like brad pitt's. but not so pleated. and the helen of troy was ... god! i don't know. i'm so damned frustrated! GAH! SHE'S the face that was supposed to launch a thousand ships? PUH-LEAZE. so, brad pitt is supposed to be achilles. and his cousin is this little guy named patruclus or patrecles or whatever the fuck. i swear this guy is one of the kids from hanson. mmm bop, indeed. let's see, what else did i hate about this movie...

oh yes, BRAD PITT IS OVERRATED. he's not even good looking. ew.

one thing i did love. peter o'toole as king priam. i almost fucking cried when he said, " I loved my boy from the moment he opened his eyes to the moment you closed them." so i'm a sap. sue me.

the other flick, about a boy was charming to say the least. in a nutshell, hugh grant is a man who never has had to have a job or had to be an adult. he was selfish and happy to be that way. he meets a boy who has to be too grown up for his age. hugh learns how to be a grown up when he realizes that the only person who means anything to him is this boy. i assure you, this movie has nothing to do with pedophilia. gross. at any rate, about a boy was based on a book by the same name. this author (nick hornby) also wrote high fidelity. 'nuff said.