Monday, March 19, 2018

Impossible

What would it look like to see

My impossible standards applied to me?

To become everything I demand?

What would it feel like to do

The very things I expect of you?

Would I heed your calls and commands?

Dreading the thought of it coming to show

That where you said yes, I would say no.

And yet no self inflicted hypocrisy

For impossible standards not applied to me. 



Long Rant: Post Drag Race AS3 Review: Jasmine Masters Was Right

     Week after week, I sat there religiously every Thursday, watching Rupaul's Drag Race: All Stars 3, watching some of my favorites (and Morgan McMichaels) compete and make a bigger impact than they had done on their respective channels. I'm not about to go through each episode and give a critique, because frankly, I don't give a shit about the other episodes after that shit show of a finale.

Can we talk? I mean, can we fucking talk? That format was straight up garbage. Not only was it a finale twist that was leaps and bounds unfair, but it was a complete slap in the face of the nature of the competition, just like the bullcrap with Season 9. The thing is, if these are the kinds of twists you plan on springing on the queens and unsuspecting viewers, this is something you need to let them/us know right off the bat.

Anyways, AS3 ended with Trixie Mattel being crowned, because the eliminated queens in a painfully stupid and massively unfair surprise twist (as mentioned), the eliminated queens (and Bendelacreme, the original frontrunner who voluntarily left the competition) were brought back to serve as jury and decide which two of the final four -- aforementioned Trixie, joined by Shangela, Kennedy Davenport, and Season 1 winner Bebe Zahara Benet -- would go on to the final lip sync for the crown.

Long story short, it ended up being Trixie Mattel and Kennedy Davenport as the final two.



At that point, I was done. Well, actually, when Morgan McMichaels first held up Kennedy's lipstick, I was done, because I already knew that one of my top 2 picks (Trixie and Shangela) was going to get screwed, but dammit, I was not expecting it to be Shangela that would get the shaft. 

And then this video came out:


Getting to see how the girls voted was an even more egregious sight, with Shangela, the frontrunner after Saint Bendela gave herself the axe, got ONE. VOTE. One. And it was from none other than Thorgy Thor, the queen Shangela had sent home. It was just so hard to see Shangie come so far from where was she was, having went home first on Season 2, getting slightly further on a Season 3 return (but still unpolished and rough), and to come back more focused, better drag, better makeup, and still the same flair and confidence... only to have all of her hard work invalidated by a stupid okey doke. 

And Bendela? Girl, you can sit your ass down somewhere, because you were on some ish when you made that choice. Maybe you didn't have all the facts when you made your choice, but after your self-righteous spiel about voting based on track records, and then you turn around and deny the best person after you a shot and reward the person with the worst record, and then kiss your own ass in the process with that "I'm glad I eliminated myself to clear the way for her." 

Oh, shut up. 

And then you bring back Morgan McMichaels (first to go) over Aaja, who had the best record of all the eliminated queens and had redeemed herself from the equally bad Season 9 that saw a queen win the crown because she (beautifully) poured rose petals from a wig, never mind the fact that she had the third best record after Shea Coulee and Trinity Taylor. And of course, the only reason I can think of her bringing back Morgan was to assuage her own guilt over having been the one that sent her home the first episode. And then you bow out of the competition after having had a stellar run and only placing safe once after being in the Top 2 the entire run. Werq, bitch.

Then Ben leaves, and the competition immediately comes with the asterisk of "Whoever is the winner of this crown only wins because Ben took herself out, not because you were the best this season." And then add more turd sprinkles to the urinal cake that was this season and have a bunch of bitches who hadn't even seen most of the action play out decide who is worthy of going to the end.

Of course, I say all this because I am a viewer of the show who has seen second and third bests take the crown from people who statistically deserved it more. Frankly, it leaves a bad taste in one's mouth to see a show not evolve, but devolve. To see the spirit of the competition be sucked away and become a popularity contest is disheartening. With Season 9, it set a precedent that you didn't need to be the best -- just don't get eliminated, and then get to the finale and pull a rabbit out of your wig or do some kind of gimmick that gets the crowd on your side and the crown on your head. But good for you, Sasha, you only did what was told of you, so no hate.

And with AS3, the precedent is pretty similar, except a little harder to handle because you know these queens already from their previous runs. Trixie was a the choice of a lot of people to win, and I figured she and Shangela would be the two to beat (Bendela was an absolute shock), but by the middle of her run and that godawful Snatch Game, I thought "She would literally have to win every challenge and LSFYLegacy to justify a crowning. But she didn't. And she still got the crown. 

I like Trixie. I love her dark humor, her trademark makeup that is ridiculously cartoonish but beautifully applied and unique, and I love her fashion, a mix of sexy pinup and colorful 60's hourglass figure Barbie realness. But just like Season 9 winner Sasha Velour, I don't see it when I hear "Winner Trixie Mattel." I just don't. The finale playing out the way it did is likely why A. There was no reunion, and B. why Season 10 is to immediately begin the week after AS3.

This was just bad, Ru. And I do mean Rupal, because this tomfoolery falls at your doorstep. This was your attempt to shake things up, and it was a major fail. Maybe you just don't care anymore, and this is a paycheck, but don't ask us as viewers to devote our time to watching a competition play out and then change the rules at the last minute that equates to a big middle finger to the good queens and the viewers. It should be Shangela hanging up in the Drag Race Hall of Fame next to Chad Michaels and Alaska Thunder5000.

At this point, I'll stick to watching the recaps of Season 10 on WowPresents, or MovieBitches reviews of Drag Race (and other great movies... check out their channel), because these couple of recent seasons have left a bad taste in my mouth. I'm rooting for you Eureka and Mayhem, but my feeling s right now are better left to Jasmine Masters:




Okay, I'm done. 

Tuesday, February 20, 2018

Separates, Chapter 2: Midnight Run

Am I being paranoid? Geneva walked back and forth, both thinking and wondering aloud about why she felt so uneasy about her husband's intern possibly having been to their home before. At this point, the smell of burnt chicken and rice had been carried about by the cool breeze lightly blowing through the open patio door that looked out over the city's skyline. She continued pacing throughout the floor, seemingly gliding since her footsteps made no sound against the carpet and soundproof floors separating her and Roman's condominium from their upstairs and downstairs neighbors. 

"Why wouldn't he mention that 'Matt the Intern' had been here before?" she asked herself in the emptiness of the vast square feet of their home that she had found herself alone in for the first time in years. Geneva walked over to her phone, pressing the power button to illuminate the screen. She checked the time.

11:02

That meant that he had been gone for nearly 30 minutes, but of course she had to take into account the traffic on a late Friday night, especially in what was basically a college area, bustling with privileged teens and 20 somethings in ivy league schools without parental supervision, something they likely hadn't had even when they were at home.

She walked back over to the kitchen and picked up the chair that she had knocked over in anger. Once again, she found herself being lost in the thoughts of her life, pondering how two people who once were inseparable could no longer be in the same room without lashing out unnecessarily. She wondered how she became so removed from the lives of her children that not only was she unaware of their activities, but she didn't even bother to care. She could see the big doe hazel brown eyes of her own daughter staring up at her in disappointment and sadness, which tugged at her heartstrings as she poured yet another glass of wine for herself. 

Right as the last drop touched the glass, a knock could be heard on the door. Who on earth is that at this time of night? She angrily thought. But, then her mind went to a possible emergency involving her kids, and then fear swept across her mind as she now quickly walked to the door to open. "Who is it?", she inquired.

"Girl, open the door. It's cold out here."

Geneva immediately recognized the voice as her best friend Thedra, and sighed in relief as she unlocked the door to let her in. "Do you realize what time it is?", she hissed as the door opened.

"Jeez, nice to see you, too," Thedra replied, feeling the iciness of her friend.

"I'm sorry, girl," Geneva responded with contrition. "This has not been my night. In any way."

"Do you want to talk about it?", Thedra asked, pulling her hand out of her oversized tote bag to reveal a huge bottle of chardonnay.

"I've been 'talking' since Roman left", Geneva responded, pointing over to the table at her own open bottle and full glass.

"Well, then, I'll help you finish that conversation and then we can keep it going with mine. Hint. Hint. Glug. Glug."

Thedra sauntered over to Geneva's living room table, gently setting her tote bag onto the slightly moved coffee table. She removed her heels and set them next to her, letting out a loud sigh of relief as she unbuttoned the top two buttons of her maroon cashmere blouse, She was dressed as though she had either come from work or a date, but either way, she was had returned from disappointment. Geneva, still reeling from her own underwhelming night with Roman, was in no mood to entertain guests, but with Thedra being one of her closest friends, she obliged, albeit with the intent of getting her out as soon as possible.

"So what brings you here?", Geneva asked politely, but indifferently.

"Terrible," Thedra responded, appearing to answer another question that hadn't been asked. "Chloe's dad had to work late, so I had to cut my date short to go pick her up from the sitter. Sure enough, I get there and there's this 13 year old watching my child with no one else around. I mean, this man thought he could leave our child someone barely even older than her..."

Thedra's venting slowly faded into white noise that blended in harmonically with the business of the Friday night life going on downstairs on the streets. Geneva could not help but wonder how out of character it was for Roman, someone who had never even stayed up past 11:30 p.m. even on the weekends, would suddenly have be entertaining clients so late at night. Occasionally entering back into reality to nod and pretend to be listening to Thedra gripe about her ex-husband, she peered at the wall clock, unable to read the digital numbers but keenly watching as the second went on and on and on...

"I mean, what do you think? Am I overreacting?"

Geneva immediately snapped back, as if her subconscious was giving her the cue to pay attention once again. "No, of course not. Damon should have known better. That is ridiculous."

Thedra uncorked her wine and poured herself a glass and then poured another for Geneva, apparently forgetting that Geneva already had her wine on the dinner table behind them. She drank it anyway, either out of politeness or simply because it was mere inches from her body instead of feet away like her own alcohol. 

"Look at me, going on and on about my problems," Thedra laughed, "Chloe's fine, and Damon is just gonna have to start doing better. Girl, count yourself lucky you don't have a baby daddy ex to deal with. Hey, where is Roman?" 

"He's at a dinner with a client."

Thedra paused from her drinking her wine and gave Geneva one of the most intense looks of curiosity she had ever given her friend of 10 years. Geneva didn't have ponder on what her best friend was thinking because not only did her face say it all, her mouth was not far behind iterating her facial expression.

"Dinner? At this time of night?", she scoffed. "Who the hell has dinner this late at night? And with a 'client.'"

"It's not like that, Thee", Geneva assured, "It's with a male client from his law firm, and he had told me all about it."

"And did you verify this information?" Thedra continuously interrogated.

"No need. I trust my husband. Besides, I already know what you're hinting at, Thee, and Roman is not out with another woman."

"Oh, no, girl, I'm not hinting at a damn thing. I'm flat out saying it."

Geneva quickly became irritated and felt that Thedra had worn out her welcome for the night. "My, look at the time. Maybe we should cut this short, because I am feeling very tired."

"Look, Genny," Thedra began with contrition in her voice, "I'm sorry. Maybe it's projecting on my end. When you go through a nasty divorce from a cheating husband who would rather watch you go homeless and leave you penniless than admit that he was sleeping with anything that smiled at him, you tend to think every man is messing around."

"It's alright," Geneva sighed, her tone mellowing out. "I'm not going to lie like the thought hadn't crossed mind while was sitting here."

She neglected to mention that it had crossed her mind a few more times once she'd had more glasses of wine in her.

"That's all I needed to hear."

Thedra immediately jumped up, stumbled as a result of a head rush mixed with slight inebriation, and grabbed her oversized purse. Looking inside, she pulled out her tablet, and sat down next to Geneva, slightly showing her device in her face, illuminated screen and all.

"Where is he having dinner?" She asked intensely.

Becoming immediately cautious, Geneva refused to answer, perhaps understanding her friend's fiendish intentions.

"Look at it this way: He's having a late dinner with a client, or so he says," Thedra began, appearing to forget Geneva's annoyance at this conversation, "So you simply come at the tail end of said late dinner, wait for his 'client' to leave, and turn his work into a mini date for you guys."

"That alcohol must be hitting you harder in your later years", Geneva joked, balking at Thedra's suggestion. "If you think I'm seriously about to entertain any of what you're saying right now..."

"What's the harm?" Thedra exclaimed. "If he is where he says he is..."

"And I believe him," Geneva interrupted. 

"If he is where he says he is," she continued, "You can stop in and salvage the rest of what I'm sure is a stressful meeting."

"It's a casual dinner at the Red Room, hardly what I would call 'stressful.' But it's a meeting, nonetheless, and it would be petty of me to disrupt that."

"Ah, the Red Room. Nice," Thedra said as she began to tap her tablet screen with her long fingernails. "And just to clarify, I said the tail end of his meeting, meaning after it's over. I would never suggest you mess with his job."

"No, you're just suggesting I go snoop on my husband and make sure it's just a meeting and not him cheating on me", Geneva snapped. "Look, it's late, and I've had quite a bit to drink, as have you, apparently. I think it's time to call it a night."

"Suit yourself," Thedra sighed, carefully standing back up and slipping back on her heels. "Just trying to be a good friend."

"And I appreciate it, but this bootleg Nancy Drew schtick is not cute right now. I know your heart is in the right pla--"

Geneva's phone began to vibrate loudly, cutting off her sentence. Judging by the time of night, she assumed it was Roman and immediately checked it. She looked down, and saw that it was a text message, but the number from the message was fully displayed, meaning that it was not a number from her contacts. She silently read the message:

Hey, Roman. So that was intense. Make sure you bring some more of that passion. TTYL.

Who the hell is this? Geneva furiously thought, although her face was a dead giveaway as Thedra picked up on the shock. "Problem?" She asked.

For a brief moment, a calming quiet came over the loft, with only the sound of the brisk air of the Seattle night blowing in gently from the opened balcony door. Out of the corner of her eye, an object caught her attention. She turned to see that it was their family portrait, complete with the smiles of two people and their two kids, seemingly happy and bursting with familial pride. Geneva didn't want to think the worst of Roman, but his previous behavior, his coldness towards her earlier advances, his brand new intern that she had never met coming to their house so late at night and appearing to have been there before, and now a mysterious text message from a number she did not recognize, save the area code -- which was theirs.

Geneva wasn't entirely convinced that Roman was being duplicitous with malicious intent, but she also knew that it was far too late to put her suspicions to bed.

"I'm hungry", she replied to Thedra, who had already put on her jacket. "Maybe we should go grab a quick bite to eat."

Smiling with almost a devilish delight, Thedra simply responded. "I know just the place."

Impossible

What would it look like to see My impossible standards applied to me? To become everything I demand? What would it feel like to do T...