All I want to do this time of year is watch old movies and write new things. Today I’m doing both. The bubblegum glitter and waggish wit and general tail-wagging of these 10 MGM musicals always, always cheer me the fuck up. Not especially swellegant phrasing, but true just the same.
The Wizard of Oz (1939)
It’s hard for kids today to imagine the excitement we used to feel when this musical about a lost Kansas girl aired on CBS every November. But even the youngest skeptics are sure to candy-crush on this film’s whirlwind soundtrack, glorious Technicolor, and iconic cast, including a gingham-clad Judy Garland crooning mournfully of “Somewhere Over the Rainbow.” Continue Reading →
For two days I dreamed that I caught a man in the act of stealing my wallet, phone, and keys—my identity, essentially— and that he was arrested and forced to return my possessions. These were triumphant, and triumphantly bald, dreams. Last night I dreamed someone stole my wallet—a pleasing, lemony yellow—and replaced it with a neon-green fannypack, neon green being one of the few shades I will never, ever embrace though I do in fact own such a horror. (It’s handy.) In the second part of the dream, I found a pair of denim jeans that elegantly nipped in my waist and made my ass a buttercup dream. I laid them aside for a pair of 90-style mom jeans that made my ass an endlessly flat expanse of Midwestern mall terrain.
Which is to say that, yes, Venus finally went retrograde yesterday. I’ve been whining about its shadow since early September, but only now is the planet really moving backward. Lasting unofficially until the end of the year (officially it goes direct November 16), the retrograde is taking place in Scorpio, which imparts lessons about old wounds and hidden meanings, and Libra, which is ruled by Venus and thus a hot mess when mommy takes a breather. Continue Reading →