Confessions of a Confused and Bored Flight Passenger
I finally boarded a plane and left Los Angeles yesterday, much to my relief. Sort of. I mean, I'm not one to celebrate after staying at a place with great weather for the past three weeks, only to return to the still chilly Chicago that is having an identity crisis with Spring.
I had brought my four DVD movies from NetFlix with me to Los Angeles when I flew out there the Sunday before last, and I tried to milk them out to keep me entertained after work each day. But I simply had to return them on Saturday, because for one, I had already watched all of them by Friday evening, and another, I wanted to have some fresh movies waiting for me when I returned home.
Let me preface the whole confession thing with a pseudo confession before getting to the root of the main confession. On Friday night, I watched Bandidas, starring Penélope Cruz and Salma Hayek. I'll admit, these two Latina chicas were smokin' in the film! Va-va-vroom! Hubba hubba hubba! I don't know if this is racist of me to say, but I really had a hard time keeping the two characters apart! At first I thought I could use the visual cues that the girl with the curliest hair and red costume was always Hayek, and the other was to be Cruz. But I keep on forgetting who is who! I had to pause the movie no less than ten times just so I could figure out who was the poor farmer girl, and who was the rich orphaned girl. It was extremely frustrating, considering that they looked alike and sounded so alike with that accent they had!
Anyway, back to the point.
Because I had already returned the four movies I brought with me, I was dying with boredom on the flight home yesterday. Sure, I had the novel Love Walked In in my case, but somehow, I just couldn't get into the story. It may have something to do with the fact that it was a girly novel. So I kept it stashed away in my bag.
I then decided to write a new blog on the plane, so I took out my laptop from the overhead compartment. With Microsoft Word up and running, I began to type out my first line. Sensing that the big guy next to me was kind of nosey, I decided not to write. Instead, I somehow found another movie I had downloaded onto my laptop a long time ago. I thought, "What the hell," because, it sure beat doing nothing on a plane instead, right?
I gave it a second serious thought, before I hit the Play button. The movie? Confessions of a Sociopathic Social Climber starring Jennifer Love Hewitt. As the prelude rolled and the opening credits scrolled by, I began having second thoughts. After all, any movie that had bright, girly pink fonts with girly icons used for the opening credits is definitely bad. I debated in my mind whether or not I should continue with the movie, especially after a few minutes into the prelude, Jennifer Love Hewitt's character busted out dancing and prancing like a girly girl in her bra and panties while getting dressed.
I became extremely embarrassed, and felt like all eyes were on my screen, with giant thought balloons hovering above my fellow passengers' heads with: "What the hell is this guy doing watching a teeny bopper movie?" I weighed in the gains and consequences. If I stopped the movie now, then people might thought I was too weak of a man to be willing to watch an uber chick flick. Furthermore, if I was to cease and decease on the full length feature, I would have to find ways to fill the void that is the four hours flying across the country. And I wasn't about to start a conversation with the big dude sitting next to me reading some Christian-y novel that was bigger and heavier than the King James Version of the Bible. All I knew was that he was deeply engrossed in some novel about some silly rapture. In fact, I kind of secretly hoped that the rapture would occur during the flight, just so that he could disappear (hopefully) and leave me with ample room for my arms in my tiny space. Of course, unlike the book my neighbor was reading, I also hoped that my pilots were all heathens so they wouldn't disappear into thin air while I was still on the plane.
So I continued watching the movie. My jaw dropped quite a few times, because the entire screenplay was worse than lines written by a fifth grader, and the plot was entirely gaggy pukey! And I felt extremely self-conscious whenever shots of Hewitt's cleavage or ass were strategically placed throughout the movie. The entire movie seemed to revolve around Hewitt's assets while being half naked, acting all Valley girl-ish. And the plot? Give me a break! How can a girl who was always about being with the right crowd, shallow as a dried up pond, and conceited like a total bitch, ended up making the hot dude who was way too good for her fall in love with her? No wonder so many dumb bitches in real life love this movie. They actually think this crap happens in real life!
By the end of the movie, I felt like I lost a few IQ points, was about to have some cramps, and hurl into the air sickness bag in front of me. I could not believe I watched the entire movie, from start to finish! I had perhaps six chances when I told myself, "This is utter bullshit, I'm turning this crap off," yet I managed to withhold myself from pressing Stop. Now that I have watched that crappy chick flick, I felt like my manhood has decreased slightly.
So there you have it: Confessions of a confused and bored flight passenger on a beautiful Sunday afternoon. And I still have the shivers! I should have spent the entire flight studying the emergency procedures of a Boeing 737-700 plane instead, while laughing at the diagrams that always showed the passengers with ten inches of extra leg room, and everybody being super calm while a plane was illustrated falling out of the sky in a thick, black smoke.
I had brought my four DVD movies from NetFlix with me to Los Angeles when I flew out there the Sunday before last, and I tried to milk them out to keep me entertained after work each day. But I simply had to return them on Saturday, because for one, I had already watched all of them by Friday evening, and another, I wanted to have some fresh movies waiting for me when I returned home.
Let me preface the whole confession thing with a pseudo confession before getting to the root of the main confession. On Friday night, I watched Bandidas, starring Penélope Cruz and Salma Hayek. I'll admit, these two Latina chicas were smokin' in the film! Va-va-vroom! Hubba hubba hubba! I don't know if this is racist of me to say, but I really had a hard time keeping the two characters apart! At first I thought I could use the visual cues that the girl with the curliest hair and red costume was always Hayek, and the other was to be Cruz. But I keep on forgetting who is who! I had to pause the movie no less than ten times just so I could figure out who was the poor farmer girl, and who was the rich orphaned girl. It was extremely frustrating, considering that they looked alike and sounded so alike with that accent they had!
Anyway, back to the point.
Because I had already returned the four movies I brought with me, I was dying with boredom on the flight home yesterday. Sure, I had the novel Love Walked In in my case, but somehow, I just couldn't get into the story. It may have something to do with the fact that it was a girly novel. So I kept it stashed away in my bag.
I then decided to write a new blog on the plane, so I took out my laptop from the overhead compartment. With Microsoft Word up and running, I began to type out my first line. Sensing that the big guy next to me was kind of nosey, I decided not to write. Instead, I somehow found another movie I had downloaded onto my laptop a long time ago. I thought, "What the hell," because, it sure beat doing nothing on a plane instead, right?
I gave it a second serious thought, before I hit the Play button. The movie? Confessions of a Sociopathic Social Climber starring Jennifer Love Hewitt. As the prelude rolled and the opening credits scrolled by, I began having second thoughts. After all, any movie that had bright, girly pink fonts with girly icons used for the opening credits is definitely bad. I debated in my mind whether or not I should continue with the movie, especially after a few minutes into the prelude, Jennifer Love Hewitt's character busted out dancing and prancing like a girly girl in her bra and panties while getting dressed.
I became extremely embarrassed, and felt like all eyes were on my screen, with giant thought balloons hovering above my fellow passengers' heads with: "What the hell is this guy doing watching a teeny bopper movie?" I weighed in the gains and consequences. If I stopped the movie now, then people might thought I was too weak of a man to be willing to watch an uber chick flick. Furthermore, if I was to cease and decease on the full length feature, I would have to find ways to fill the void that is the four hours flying across the country. And I wasn't about to start a conversation with the big dude sitting next to me reading some Christian-y novel that was bigger and heavier than the King James Version of the Bible. All I knew was that he was deeply engrossed in some novel about some silly rapture. In fact, I kind of secretly hoped that the rapture would occur during the flight, just so that he could disappear (hopefully) and leave me with ample room for my arms in my tiny space. Of course, unlike the book my neighbor was reading, I also hoped that my pilots were all heathens so they wouldn't disappear into thin air while I was still on the plane.
So I continued watching the movie. My jaw dropped quite a few times, because the entire screenplay was worse than lines written by a fifth grader, and the plot was entirely gaggy pukey! And I felt extremely self-conscious whenever shots of Hewitt's cleavage or ass were strategically placed throughout the movie. The entire movie seemed to revolve around Hewitt's assets while being half naked, acting all Valley girl-ish. And the plot? Give me a break! How can a girl who was always about being with the right crowd, shallow as a dried up pond, and conceited like a total bitch, ended up making the hot dude who was way too good for her fall in love with her? No wonder so many dumb bitches in real life love this movie. They actually think this crap happens in real life!
By the end of the movie, I felt like I lost a few IQ points, was about to have some cramps, and hurl into the air sickness bag in front of me. I could not believe I watched the entire movie, from start to finish! I had perhaps six chances when I told myself, "This is utter bullshit, I'm turning this crap off," yet I managed to withhold myself from pressing Stop. Now that I have watched that crappy chick flick, I felt like my manhood has decreased slightly.
So there you have it: Confessions of a confused and bored flight passenger on a beautiful Sunday afternoon. And I still have the shivers! I should have spent the entire flight studying the emergency procedures of a Boeing 737-700 plane instead, while laughing at the diagrams that always showed the passengers with ten inches of extra leg room, and everybody being super calm while a plane was illustrated falling out of the sky in a thick, black smoke.
posted by StHalcyon at
22:43
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