Applying linguistics to my life has been a major topic (knowing the reason why somebody says something or why there's a wall of silence) these days, but it also contributed that I watched the film He's just not that into you. Then, I realized: I'm hopeless. There's nothing I can do to right something that went wrong so wrong...
The film makes you think about all the things that could have possibly gone in the wrong direction. And guess what, I have taken all the wrong turns...
Some funny quotes from the film:
Alex: You're my exception.
Gigi: A girl will never forget the first boy she ever likes.
Gigi: We are all programmed to believe that if a guy acts like a total jerk that means he likes you.
Beth: I just need you to stop being nice to me unless your gonna marry me.
Beth: Am I... will I be Al Pacino in this scenario?
Gigi: How stupid is it that a girl has to wait for a guy's call anyway, right?
Mary: I had this guy leave me a voicemail at work, so I called him at home, and then he emailed me to my BlackBerry, and so I texted to his cell, and now you just have to go around checking all these different portals just to get rejected by seven different technologies.
Mary: It's exhausting.
Gigi: Girls are taught a lot of stuff growing up. If a guy punches you he likes you. Never try to trim your own bangs and someday you will meet a wonderful guy and get your very own happy ending. Every movie we see, Every story we're told implores us to wait for it, the third act twist, the unexpected declaration of love, the exception to the rule. But sometimes we're so focused on finding our happy ending we don't learn how to read the signs. How to tell from the ones who want us and the ones who don't, the ones who will stay and the ones who will leave. And maybe a happy ending doesn't include a guy, maybe... it's you, on your own, picking up the pieces and starting over, freeing yourself up for something better in the future. Maybe the happy ending is... just... moving on. Or maybe the happy ending is this, knowing after all the unreturned phone calls, broken-hearts, through the blunders and misread signals, through all the pain and embarrassment you never gave up hope.
Gigi: I would rather be like that, then be like you.
Alex: Excuse me? What's that supposed to mean?
Gigi: I may dissect each little thing and put myself out there so much but at least that means that I still care. Oh! You've think you won because women are expendable to you. You may not get hurt or make an ass of yourself that way but you don't fall in love that way either. You have not won. You're alone. I may do a lot of stupid shit but I'm still a lot closer to love than you are.
Anna: You have an ass that makes me wanna dry hump!
Ben: Did you just say 'Dry hump'?
Anna: Yep.
Ben: I think I just fell in love.
5 yr. old Girl: Why did you do that?
6 yr. old Boy: Because you smell like dog poo.
Ben: You may be the best friend I've ever had.
Alex: He is not interested.
Janine: He's totally gonna call.
Neil: I don't wanna be with anybody else, I just wanna be with Beth.
Mary: What if you meet the love of your life, are you supposed to let them pass you by?
Alex: I really gotta go to bed.
Gigi: Is that an invitation?
Alex: What?
Gigi: Oh god, That was cheesy.
Mother: Connie, do you know why that little boy did those things? Because he likes you.
Mary: He MySpaced me.
Nathan: Ouch!
Mary: Oh.
Joshua: Oh girl I don't know about that... My trampy little sister says MySpace is the new booty call.
Gigi: I think I've figured it out. Remember when I went out with that notary public and he cheated on me and then Anastasia from upstairs told me about how her boyfriend cheated on her in the beginning then he totally changed and now they're married and crazy in love?
Beth: I thought that guy was a process server.
Gigi: No notary. Anyway my point is, Anastasia is the exception, not the rule. We have to stop listening to these stories because they rule is most guys who cheat on you up front don't really care about you very much.
Janine: Ok.
Gigi: Ok, Ok. Exhibit A. Chad the drummer who lived in a storage space. He only used me for rides and yet I continued to stalk him for most of 1998. Then oh, um, there was Don, that broke up with me every Friday so that he could have his weekends free. I was delusional about that relationship. I used to refer to him as my husband to random people, like my dental hygienist. Anyway, all my friends used to tell me about how things might work out with these dipsticks because they knew someone, who knew someone, who dated a dipstick just like mine. That girl ended up getting married and living happily ever after. That the exception and we're not the exception we're the rule.
Alex: If a guy treats you like he doesn't give a sh*t, it's because he doesn't give a shit.
Gigi: Maybe his grandma died or maybe he lost my number or is out of town or got hit by a cab...
Alex: Or maybe he is not interested in seeing you again.
Gigi: Hey sorry to bug you again! Uh quick question.
Alex: What's going on?
Gigi: Ok I'm making out with this guy, PG stuff. but he mentions he's going out of town so he's gonna be out of touch.
Alex: Run.
Gigi: But maybe he is going out of town.
Alex: To where? New Guinea? Where's he gonna be that he's gonna be out of touch?
Gigi: Opens bathroom door - Where are you going out of town to again?
Gigi: Pittsburgh
Alex: Run.
Gigi: So what now I'm just supposed to turn from every guy who doesn't like me?
Alex: Uh. Yeah!
Gigi: There's not gonna be anybody left.
Alex: If a guy doesn't call you, he doesn't want to call you.
Gigi: Hey Conor, It's GiGi, I just thought that I hadn't heard from you, and I mean how stupid is it taht a girl has to wait for a guy's call anyway, right? Cause we're all equal right? more than equal. more women are accepted into law school now then men. Call me, oh this is GiGi, call me.
Gigi: Girls are taught a lot of stuff growing up: if a boy punches you he likes you, never try to trim your own bangs, and someday you will meet a wonderful guy and get your very own happy ending. every movie we see, every story we're told implores us to wait for it: the third act twist, the unexpected declaration of love, the exception to the rule. but sometimes we're so focused on finding our happy ending we don't learn how to read the signs. how to tell the ones who want us from the ones who don't, the ones who will stay and the ones who will leave. and maybe a happy ending doesn't include a guy, maybe it's you, on your own, picking up the pieces and starting over, freeing yourself up for something better in the future. maybe the happy ending is just moving on. or maybe the happy ending is this: knowing after all the unreturned phone calls and broken-hearts, through the blunders and misread signals, through all the pain and embarrassment... you never gave up hope.
Alex: Hey, Kelli Ann. Uh, did I get any calls?
Kelli Ann: Since you asked me 11 mins ago, no, not a lot of phone traffic.
Alex: [obsessively checks phone for signal]
Kelli Ann: Oh, my God.
Alex: What?
Kelli Ann: What's her name?
Alex: Who?
Kelli Ann: The girl... Alex.
Alex: There's no girl.
Kelli Ann: You can't hide it, man. I know strung out, and YOU are strung out.
Alex: Please.
Kelli Ann: This is amazing. You can't focus. Right? Jumping every time your phone rings. Checking your e-mail a hundred times a day. Wishing you could write songs.
Alex: [laughs]
Kelli Ann: No. Feeling the need to bring up her name in random conversations. It's always the same and it has happened to you, my friend.
Alex: Shit.
Kelli Ann: Welcome to my world, asshole. Let me get the door.
African Woman #1: I'm sure he just forgot your hut number!
African Woman #2: Or was eaten by a lion.
African Woman #3: You guys are awesome!
Monday, March 30, 2009
what big teeth you've got!
I was surprised: Ice Age III in the cinemas in July!!! I know this sort of films are meant for children, but, hey, I don't care...
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Saturday, March 14, 2009
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
lending material
Si vas a fingir, mentime
http://elerlich.com/momentito/2008/08/si_vas_a_fingir_mentime.php#more
http://elerlich.com/momentito/2008/08/si_vas_a_fingir_mentime.php#more
La gente que finge la risa es peor que la que finge el orgasmo. O mejor: es la misma. Es que no pueden parar. Fingir es más adictivo que el desayuno en la cama, exige menos cuidado y no requiere el coraje que se precisa para mentir.
Mentir es robarse un libro. Fingir es pedirlo prestado cuando sabés que no lo vas a devolver. El que miente le pone huevos a la cosa, igual que el que entra a robar un banco. No se puede compararlo con el que finge que pagó la factura a la hora en que le vienen a cortar la luz.
Se miente en grande y se finge en chiquito, casi bordeando la poquedad. El que finge no quiere mirarse al espejo y verse como un mentiroso. Pero no le molestaría que lo vean como un chorro sentimental. Y nada más lejos que eso. El que finge es un plomero que te mira a la cara para saber “cuánto te puedo cobrar por esta macanita”.
El que finge pretende que no miente; hace como que le da culpa. Pero tampoco. Le faltan pantalones largos pero no le sobra imaginación: el que miente llega al trabajo tarde porque lo agarró un triple choque; al que finge el nene se le enfermó.
¿Por qué alguien prefiere fingir un vuelto de la panadería cuando puede pasar a la historia mintiendo un millón de dólares? No tanto por cobardía como por desinterés.
Es más fácil fingir un pancho que mentir una pavita adobada, se tramita más rápido y se mastica igual. Pero te lima el alma, te la deteriora. Te la deja a medio afeitar.
El mentiroso es un coso que sabe que arriesga, que está viajando con una valija non sancta y que si lo paran en la aduana se va a cansar de perder.
En cambio el que finge es más desapegado que un post-it. No le calienta que te des cuenta porque tampoco se va a tomar el tiempo para corregir. Por eso va a lo mínimo, cosa de errarle por poco. Nada de “estábamos cerrando el balance y nos cayó una inspección de impositiva con canas y todo. Nos quitaron los celulares y por eso no te pude avisar”. No. Un fingidor se conforma con un “qué querés, el jefe me retuvo”.
Y ante una cosa de esas no dan ganas ni de preguntarle ni de mirarlo fijo. Uno sabe que el otro sabe y los dos la dejan pasar: en eso, al fin y al cabo, radica la miseria de fingir.
Nadie quiere que lo encaren con la verdad, eso es sabido por todos. Pero una cosa es decolar desde una mentira como la gente, una historia que valga la pena y nos haga aunque sea soñar con la grandeza, y otra muy otra la conformidad que nos lleva a fingir.
Fingir es decirle a la vida “hasta acá hemos llegado”, “por favor no me pidas más”. Por eso fingir es masivo y lo entendemos rápido. Es como sacar un delantero y poner un marcador.
Una sólida mentira bien puesta se gana su lugar en la mesa. Te toca el culo, te levanta de la silla y en el peor de los casos convoca la furia, nos viste de inmediato con ganas de matar.
En cambio cuando nos fingen en la cara, así cortito y con poco argumento, recuperamos la tranquilidad de lo viejo y conocido: la vida nos reafirma que no merecemos más; ni siquiera que nos mientan con un poco de onda. No lo pedimos a gritos pero lo aceptamos con gracia. Nos fingen lo que sea y nos sentimos acunados por el dulce canto de la resignación.
Es hora de cortarla y decir que no. Si vas fingir, mentime. No me finjas el orgasmo: tené los ovarios de mentirme el amor. Inmolate a lo bonzo en una mentira que valga la pena, ¡corré el riesgo de que te salga mal!
Basta de achicar el mundo, señores, fingiendo cosas que no valen la pena. Los mentirosos con ganas tienen al final del túnel una chance aunque sea por la osadía. A los que fingen, por mediocres, les están cerradas para siempre las puertas de la verdad.
reloaded
March has begun and eventhough I'm busy, I think it's a wonderful month: kids attend school after their summer break, Autumn is around the corner, everybody is back from hollidays (no more excuses to be heard on the matter), I'm planning a getaway...
But, what still surprises me of this month is that I keep a record of some sort of weird comments in the street when I take my dog for a walk: I was congratulated by an old woman on my collecting my dog's number two. Then, a mother told a child that I was doing sth really disgusting (exactly the same action I was congratulated on). Later on, a friend of mine asked me if it was ok for me to do something like that...
It seems March brings some questions or comments... bring them on, I'm prepared...
But, what still surprises me of this month is that I keep a record of some sort of weird comments in the street when I take my dog for a walk: I was congratulated by an old woman on my collecting my dog's number two. Then, a mother told a child that I was doing sth really disgusting (exactly the same action I was congratulated on). Later on, a friend of mine asked me if it was ok for me to do something like that...
It seems March brings some questions or comments... bring them on, I'm prepared...
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