Thursday, May 15, 2014

Louis CK


Louie, the TV show written, starring, directed and edited by Louis CK, is consistently lauded as innovative, thoughtful, and funny. On Monday night, two new episodes aired, the first of which, called So Did the Fat Lady, has been exceedingly controversial inspiring rants and raves across the internet. Bloggers, TV reviewers, and people who comment on websites are arguing passionately about what exactly Mr. CK was trying to say, and I figured I may as well throw in my two cents.

The final eight minutes of the episode are the focus of the controversy, and consist of a monologue delivered by Sarah Baker, playing Vanessa, a variation on the Manic Pixie Dream Girl trope. She is charming, self deprecating, flirtatious, and very cute. She could clearly be good for Louie, make him laugh make him happy. But, she is also fat. Not morbidly obese, unable-to-walk-fat, but more fat than is allowed for a woman to be considered attractive on TV. 

She asks Louie out a few times, and absorbs his rejection with deflective jokes and a friendly goodbye. There is no reason for Louie to reject this woman who was clearly written to be a perfect match for the protagonist. He is also fat. Again, not to fat to walk fat, but fat. His weight is often brought up in his stand up comedy and TV show, and the episode takes great pains to show that Louie is unhealthy. 

After rejecting the cute-but-fat waitress initially, he stands with his brother on a busy corner in NYC, ogling the modelesque women that walk by, before going on a "bang-bang," an outing where the overweight men go to two different restaurants and consume two full meals, appetizers to dessert, back to back. It's filmed lovingly, the trays of food and forks flying, ending with the men deciding against going to the gym. 

There are no social consequences to Louie's binge. He doesn't feel good at the end of it, both physically and mentally,  but he doesn't feel bad enough to do anything different.

When Louie finally succumbs to the charms of the cute-fat waitress, their date goes perfectly, no awkwardness which is again, very pointed. All romantic encounters Louie has are fraught with awkward moments. He is convinced to wear a dress and laughed at, he is tickled to the point that he elbows a hot model he just slept with in the face, a woman is so horrified by their date that she flees via helicopter when he tries to kiss her, he winds up sleeping with a beautiful young woman who fetishizes his age and gets off on evidence that he is old. He is afraid of being alone but makes terrible choices when it comes to women.

As the two are walking in a park by a river, surrounded (deliberately I'm sure) by fit joggers,  she makes a comment calling herself fat and he halfheartedly tries to argue.

"You're not--" he starts to say, before she interrupts.

She is fat, but she is not stupid. She knows what she looks like. She also knows what Louie looks like. And in a seven and a half minute monologue (filmed impressively as one take), Vanessa explains exactly why she thinks that Louie is full of shit.

 Come on. If I was a “very really beautiful” then you would have said yes when I asked    you out. I mean, come on, Louie, be honest here. You know what’s funny? I flirt with guys all the time. And I mean, the great looking ones, like the really high caliber studs? They flirt right back. No problem. Because they know their status will never be questioned. But guys like you never flirt with me because you get scared that maybe you should be with a girl like me. And why not?!

Her point being that Louie hates himself so much that he can't accept his own weight and thereby can't accept hers. Its as thought dating a woman that is his mirror image would make him admit something about himself and he isn't brave enough.

As much as Mr. CK is clearly saying about the double standard of attractiveness in media for men and women, I think he is saying much more about the character Louie who has been dealing with self hatred since the pilot episode. And I do think this experience for that character made an impression, reaching him as much as a father of two girls who, between their genetics and the US's obesity epidemic, have a high chance of being fat girls themselves, as a man who is uncomfortable in his own skin.

So Did the Fat Lady's epic monologue reminded me of the scene from the second episode of Louie where the only gay comic at the poker table explains what the word "fagget" meant in the historical context, and what it meant to that character. Louie isn't a gay  man or a fat lady, but he is trying to understand the perspectives of others, and I respect that.

You can find seasons one and two of Louie on Netflix, and season three airs at 10 pm on Monday nights on FX. 

Sunday, May 11, 2014

Quitting Smoking

I smoked my first cigarette out of spite. It was a Camel Lite with a speckled light brown filter that I took from a friend's outstretched hand while staring my boyfriend down.

“Ali, don't smoke that,” he said scoldingly, and I reached out my hand for the lighter he held. He didn't hand it over.

“Daniel, help a lady out?” I said to our friend, who was laughing at our standoff.

“Of course,” he said, fumbling in his pocket, smiling like the Cheshire cat. He fished out a green Bic lighter passed it over.

“Thanks, doll,” I said, keeping my tone arch and locking eyes with my glaring boyfriend.

I fumbled with the lighter in the slight breeze and lost all my sense of cool before I finally got it lit. I didn't cough, truly, I didn't even inhale. But I blew the smoke out, feeling like a 1950s bombshell bad girl.

We were arguing about something, I don't recall what exactly. I was trying to prove that he wasn't the boss of me, a position I'm constantly defending for no real reason. Thomas, my boyfriend both ten years ago, the summer of my first cigarette, and now, at the end of my smoking career, is sensible and rarely tries to push his will on anyone. But, when I feel like I'm being ordered to do something, my rebellious streak emerges, generally to my detriment.

I didn't smoke often after that first cigarette. I bought a pack on a whim, because I was 18 and legally able. The pack stayed in the glove box of my car for almost three months, me smoking an occasional cigarette while driving, mostly.

When I moved to DC, I committed to cigarettes. It was a conscious decision that happened one night when I was feeling very lonely during the first week of my semester in the capital. I didn't know anyone in the city, and my roommate and I weren't very compatible. I was standing in front of the huge bay window that took up most of the front of our tiny studio apartment, watching the streetlights switch on, when I noticed a group of fellow interns standing under the apartment buildings green awning, all smoking, talking, and laughing.

The next day I bought a pack of smokes and that evening I joined the crowd. It was immensely fortuitous because the group of smokers that lived in my apartment building and were spending the semester in DC through a Universities of North Carolina program became dear friends. We spent all our free time together, exploring both museums and nightlife with equal enthusiasm.

After that, I was a real smoker. A cigarette in the morning with coffee, cigarette breaks at my various waitressing jobs, cigarettes and wine, cigarettes while walking on campus.

I never pictured myself as a smoker. When a person was surprised when I lit up, I was flattered. I only liked the idea of smoking when I was angsty, like a tortured intellectual, or like a flirty bad girl. And, I was trying on the persona of a tortured intellectual and a flirt quite frequently in college.

Now, when I think about the fact that I've been smoking for TEN years, I feel like a fool. What are the statistics on that? Ten years of smoking, say on average, three packs a week. There are 52 weeks in a year, that equals 1560 packs of cigarettes. Cigarette costs have risen over the past three years, when I first started smoking I could buy a pack for about $2.50, now, it's more like $5.00 a pack. If we average those numbers to $3.75, then I have spent somewhere around $5850 on cigarettes. That is too much money on something that is fundamentally bad for me. That is a lot of cute shoes, books from the real bookstore, nail polish, or dinners out that I couldn't afford because of cigarettes.

So, I'm ready to quit. I've been working up to this for the past three years, quitting for longer and longer stretches each time. And this time, I'm done.

I want to be healthy, I want to live a long time and have great skin. I want to take my time getting married and having babies, and I need my heart and lungs in good working order to facilitate that.

Today is the day. The first of May, 2014, is the day that I quit smoking, for good. Luckily, I have supportive friends and family who want me to be happy and live a long life. Most of my friends are former smokers, and I'm ready to join their ranks. There has got be to some tortured intellectual street cred among former smokers, right?

Regardless, this is another step towards improving my circumstances and I am very excited about that, even with the grumpiness that is sure to come for the next few days. I guess, too, that this essay is an attempt to hold myself accountable to the world at large, too.


So, world,  if you see me sneaking cigs, please feel free to remind me that cigarettes are gross, poison, icky, trashy, and only mean people smoke them. I know that is not true by any stretch of the imagination, but help me pretend till I break the habit, ok?


Friday, April 18, 2014

Out of Hibernation

Well, that was a longer hiatus than I anticipated!

Spring is finally here, the sun is shining, my favorite trees are bursting with flowers, and my front porch is now more perfect than ever before since I added the rocking chair that my dad made.

Everything is in transition, but my day to day life follows the same path and I'm still unsatisfied. 

I've been writing, but really just for me. I've been following pop culture, but just for fun. I've been reading the news, but just to have something interesting to say to my friends.

I was putting forth a lot of energy into attempting to find a new job, one that would be more stimulating and more lucrative. Like, a stupid amount of time and energy. And I fell on my face again. It's back to the drawing board while my current position gets increasingly more unpleasant for me. 

Believe me, I'm not giving up. But, I need to feed my soul and writing does that. So, I'm back! I'm hoping to update twice a week with a personal essay about my life and something about current events and pop culture. 

Stay tuned, folks. I've got jokes. And probably embarrassing stories. Everybody loves embarrassing stories, right?