Wednesday, February 01, 2006

If real-life were like soap operas

So I'm home today, and decided to turn on Young and the Restless while I was eating my lunch. I've watched this show off and on since I was a little kid, and saw it for the first time with my grandma. The funny thing about soap operas is you can not watch it for months or years at a time and still know what's going on after about 10 minutes of watching it. By the way, how old is Victor Newman? He's been on there forever! It's amazing how many people are still on after all this time.

I love watching the cheesiness of soaps. The way they have to repeat everything so that you know what's going on:

"What do you mean, your brother is back from the dead after being lost in an explosion and traveling around Africa for year, bringing aid to those less fortunate?" OK, I'm now caught up on that story line.

"Victoria, how wonderful that you're engaged to Brad. How does his step-daughter, who is actually your half-sister from your father's seed who Ashley, who used to be Brad's wife, stole from him unknowingly, feel about your relationship?" Seriously, this is the story line I learned today.

My favorite lines are the ones that either lead into a commercial or into the next scene. In almost every episode, no matter what the person is talking about, they say, "Unless ..." and then look away. Trust me. It happens all the time. Or a person will ask a question and the other person just looks at them, not speaking, until it fades away into the next scene.

Who does that in real life? If my husband asked me a question and I just looked at him, he'd think I was having a silent seizure.

And the long dramatic looks are the best. I think the key to being a soap opera star (or acting like one in real life) is to develop the smoldering look. It helps to have the dramatic music (which might be hard to accomplish in real life ... that would be awesome, though, to just carry around a portable radio that you could play your own theme music to in various situations ... sensual jazz music when you're feeling sexy, pounding drums when you're angry, eery ghost-like music when you're rifling through drawers in either your boss' or lover's office or bedroom to find some juicy secret ... did I just use the word "lover"? I shudder at the thought.)

The annoying part of soaps is the lack of communication on everyone's part. Just ask them your family why they're being distant, rather than assuming they hate you and running away to the zoo, only to fall into the lion's cage and having them risk life and limb to save you. Or was that just your way of getting them to prove they loved you? Wouldn't a simple card suffice? I guess that's the only way plot-lines can survive is if people don't talk to each other.

Anyway, it was fun catching up on the fact that Ashley is taking the fall for a murder her father committed because he's too weak to stand trial. And that Newman Industries and Jabot are still in competition, especially since Nikki, who is Victor Newman's wife, sits on the board of Jabot. When would that ever happen in real life? Can someone say conflict of interest?

Ah, such is the life in Genoa City.

Tuesday, January 31, 2006

Getting stupider all the time

This must be my week of self-deprecation, but go with me on this one. I’ve always considered myself to be a fairly smart person. Granted, I’ll never win a prize for solving calculus equations, or be able to conduct experiments that result in the cure for cancer, but I know my way around the written word.

I know that irregardless and pronunciate are not words. I know the difference between your and you’re, and its and it’s. I know better than to use a word I don’t know in a sentence just to make myself sound smarter.

So how did these words come out of my mouth the other day:

Me: You know what amazes me about Boogie? Her awarance about what is going on around her.
Husband: (confused blank stare)
Me: Did I just say awarance? I meant awareness.

What was I thinking? Am I slowly losing my mind? Will I start saying things like, “I’m in complete agreeance with you” or “supposably” or “the point is moo” (one of my favorite lines from Friends)?

So, I’ve lost my looks, and my smarts. What next, my sense of humor? Oh, come on now, at least let me have that. I’m funny, right? RIGHT? Ah, forget it.

Sunday, January 29, 2006

Beauty is in the eye

When I was about 3 or 4, probably about the age that Boogie is right now, I walked up to my mom who was lying on the couch. (I don't remember this from my own memory, but it's a story my mom has told a few times). My mom had been sick and wasn't feeling well, which was why she was lying down. I lovingly placed my hand on her arm and said, "Momma?" She replied, "Yes, my child" (well, she probably didn't say that because she wasn't a priest, but since I don't know what she said, I like to think she might have said that). I continued, "Momma? Why are you so ugly?" Ouch. It wasn't bad enough that she didn't feel well. I had to go and tell her how ugly she was.

I'm waiting for karma to come get me. I'm waiting for the day that Boogie looks at me with her innocent eyes and tells me the same hurtful words. She could very easily say that today, but she hasn't. Today is one of those lazy days when we actually have nothing to do. No errands to run, no family or friends to visit, no obligations like birthday parties or ballet lessons. Just a day to stay home and relax. So that means, a day of no makeup.

I'm not one who typically wears tons of makeup. The glasses that I drink out of aren't constantly rimmed with lipstick. You can't see a line of demarkation from my jawline to my neck. My cheeks don't crack when I smile from caked-on makeup.

But I do wear enough to make me look a little more presentable to the public. As I've mentioned before, I have sparse eyebrows, and despite having dark hair, the ends of my eyelashes are light, which makes them look supershort. So if I don't wear eyebrow pencil and mascara, my eyes disappear into my face. Not a pretty sight if you ask me. Of course, at work, I do add a bit of foundation, eyeshadow and lipstick to appear more polished.

But not today. Today I'm sans makeup. I just looked in the mirror as I was putting the towels away in the bathroom. Boy am I ugly. How can my husband and children stand to look at me? I guess they see past my invisible eyes and natural skin with a splattering of freckles brought out by the sun, and see the true me. The one who loves to laugh, without the benefit of lipstick. The one whose smile reaches to her eyes, even without the appearance of long lashes. The one whose face shows the deep lines of animated facial expressions. I guess beauty really is more than skin deep. Or maybe they just all need glasses. Without my glasses, everyone looks airbrushed. I think that's probably a good look for me!