Friday, July 23, 2010

A Turn Towards Health

On this, the twenty-third day of July in the year two thousand and ten, I declare to you, o internet, that I intend to take A TURN TOWARDS HEALTH!

Here are some of my exciting new health goals!

- No more chewing tobacco, a.k.a. "dip."
- When I want a midnight snack, I will run to the kitchen to get it, not just lie there staring at the ceiling for another 20 minutes even though I'm not only starving, I also have to pee!
- Every day I will say to myself - nay, SHOUT to myself, the following affirmation: A TURN TOWARDS HEALTH! A TURN TOWARDS HEALTH! LET THE RIGHT ONE IN! (The last sentence is also the name of a Swedish vampire movie!)
- Whenever I see a health- or exercise-related product for sale, I will BUY IT! Today I already bought: two kinds of water containers, a bag of dried kale, and an number of bouncy balls that range in size!
- I will create a wall-collage of models and actresses who can inspire and intimidate me through their good looks to revolve ever further into my SPIRAL OF HEALTH! People who are definitely going on the wall: what's her face from Gossip Girl; what's-her-butt (that British one?); and half of Angelina Jolie (I can only handle half, she's such a goddess! Did you know she sleeps in a huge bed with Brad and all her kids? Dear god, I want a baby... and a man!!!!)
- I will cut down the number of times I watch Nutty Professor to a reasonable amount per day.
- I will never eat another bag of Doritos (psych yeah right!)
- I will try to do a split.
- I will try to find out more about how to get an arranged marriage. (This is more of a side note.)
- I will change my AOL screen name to li'l_miss_health_nut_69 instead of what it is now (fatty3000_bonerjam)

Phew! Now that I've set all these health goals for myself, I deserve a small reward! One chicken nugget ought to do the trick - now let me just smash a hundred chicken nuggets together so they equal "one" big-ass nugget!

HEALTH!!!

Wednesday, July 21, 2010

ADVICE FOR WOMEN BY GAZEBO FEMININE SPRAY

What can you do to make a man notice you?

Mmmmm….very good question. You have to have a smile like light hitting a glass bowl. All of your curves have to be rounded and your body has to be plush and easy. Think of easy living and wicker chairs. Think of yourself as a hotel suite in key west, with plush places to sit and modern hallways. And you want to be sure that your modern hallways always smell good. I mean really good. They should smell like a peach sun burst. Or a fresh sheets flapping over a field of lavender. This is where you’ll want to pick up some Gazebo Feminine spray.

How should I act?

Ah yes…the question of the ages. You’ll want a voice like streams of golden lace falling and crumpling to the ground. You’ll want to appear sassy, yet vulnerable. (A good way to do this is to attempt to open a jar, and then when you can’t, stamp your foot and have an adorable tantrum before passing it to your man). It helps if you have a perfectly upturned nose, like that of a Disney character. And by all means trace your hands alluringly along some bulging kitchen appliances.

What about the morning after?

Wonderful, yes. There are many ways. Arrange your hair in a jubilee of golden curls on the pillow. Try to position your body so that you are being cupped by the sun. Rest one perfect rose petal on each of your mounds. Transfix your man with your loamy female aura. This may be enhanced by some Gazebo Feminine Spray. There are many scents to choose from, including Sun Nut, Tit of the Ivy, and Violet Flap.

Monday, July 12, 2010

Not That Anyone Reads This Blog...

But I should mention that my book is called The Patterns of Paper Monsters and comes out on August 9th from Reagan Arthur Books, and you can find more information on my website: www.emmarathbone.com

Homemade Gifts I Am Considering Making For Emma To Congratulate Her Upon The Release of Her First Novel

Six-CD Pan Flute Mega Mix

A Collage of Pictures of and News Articles about Emma that Looks Kind of Like it Was Made By a Serial Rapist

Hand-sewn Long-Sleeved Old-fashioned Bathing Suit

Hot Pink Puffy-Paint Fake Diploma from the University of You Go Girl!

Copy of Her Book with the Author's Name Crossed Out and My Name Written Instead

Golden Coupon Good for One Free 2-hour long Phone Conversation Where I Let Her Ramble On about Her Paranoid Fantasies of How Everybody Probably Will be Out to Get Her Now that Her Book is Out

A Giant Check Made Out to Emma Rathbone for the Amount of "Lifetime Supply of Tampons"

A Sterling Silver Frame Engraved "Best Friends" with a Photograph of Me and My Cat

A Dictionary I Wrote Myself (will be mostly "Urban")

And last of all, the Best Present a Girlfriend Can Make: A Baby

Ways in which I am attempting to manage my anxiety surrounding the release of my first novel

Doing some half-assed yoga.

Hitching up a smile whenever someone says, “So. Your book is coming out soon,” and wondering if they secretly wish for my demise.

Imagining myself in a very safe and secure place—like a kangaroo pouch or the breast pocket of a giant.

Thinking about the wonderful logic and order that goes along with a network of pulleys and tree bridges a la the Swiss Family Robinson.

Trying to have the soul of an old oak tree.

Considering taking up smoking again.

Listening to Dr. Dre’s “The Chronic,” the first cassette tape I ever got, because it reminds me of elementary school, when all that mattered was my cutthroat campaign for social dominance.

Doggedly turning my rain stick over and over.

Imagining a more simple life in which I wear a sack dress and make natural soap.

By getting really, really excited!

Friday, July 09, 2010

Why Doesn't My Brother Appreciate My Cat?

There's something kind of upsetting going on between three members of my immediate family: me, my brother, and my cat. Even though we're supposed to be "related", and to "care about each other", my brother doesn't act like that at all, at least not when it comes to my cat. And it's not like I haven't been trying. I go out of my way to send him a cute jpeg of my adorable kitty sleeping on the sofa at least once a day. Whenever my cat does something truly amazing, like rubs his face against my computer screen in this twisty way where his face practically turns upside down and it is literally the platonic image of cuteness, I call or text my brother right away to fill him in on the news. And what do I get in return for this open, heartfelt generosity? Stone cold diddly squat. Or worse: a one-line email, reading coldly: "Please remove me from this email chain." Today he de-sibling'ed me on Facebook, citing "too many wall postings of your stupid fucking cat" as his vague excuse. I'm confused by this logic because, when it comes to members of our family, especially four-legged furry ones with sleepy green eyes, there's no such thing as "too much." Apparently the bonds of family mean nothing to my brother. Well, I'll teach him. Guess who's going on a private picnic today? Me and my cat, that's who. We'll set out a third plate for my brother, who won't be there, because he's not invited. Maybe an old crow will come and pick at it. Who cares!! That's our attitude. And by the way at the picnic my cat is going to be wearing a mini-pair of sunglasses. Which you, my brother, will NOT being receiving any pictures of!! Except MAYBE one!!

Thursday, July 08, 2010

PEN PALS

Dear Ming Li,

Hello. My name is Denise. I am going to be your pen-pal. I picked you because I have never been to China and I want to go there some time. I am ten years young. My English teacher is named Mr. Delaney. We call her Mrs. De-LAME-y, ha ha. She smells like a bran. My mom says I should be nice to her because she lost a breast. Do you like toast?

Tell me – I just want to know. What is it like in China? What do you like to do? I like lasers and space and sunglasses and toast. Sometimes I think I’m going to go to space, sometimes I don’t. I am Catholic. We go to church every Sunday. I don’t think it’s fun. Last Sunday when I went, I sat next to an old lady who made a piece of candy drop out of her sleeve. Then I ate it and everyone smiled and it was a really big deal. Sometimes I think that when I grow up I’m going to have a car shaped like a laser. Do you? Is China fun? Sometimes America (that’s where I live) is fun. Sometimes it’s just okay. We have lots of little napkins here. Everyone says my dad has a good sense of humor. Well okay bye.

Your best friend,
Denise

Wednesday, July 07, 2010

An Attempt To Get In Touch With My College Roommates

Dear "Maisie" and "Alison",

I seem to recall that you were my roommates at a small Quaker college I attended around the turn of the millennium. I thought it might be a gas to reconnect with you this weekend if you don't have any other plans. The only hitch is that I am now in a wheelchair having lost the use of all four limbs. But I still really like to smoke weed. So HOLLA....

Cordially,

Alena (the Jewish one)

Meditational Poster


"LET THE SUN GO DOWN ON YOU."

Motivational Poster


"GET PREGNANT! DON'T WAIT TILL IT'S TOO LATE."

I HAVE MIXED FEELINGS ABOUT THE MYSTICAL SOUNDS OF THE PAN FLUTE

Let me just put it this way: when I walk along the downtown pedestrian mall in the small town where I live, I’m not always ready to be transported to the glowing dunes of time by the sounds of the pan flute. It is often being played by a few guys with obvious ties to the netherworld, as evidenced by their far away expressions and tacky amulets. I’ll be on my way to CVS to buy trash bags or something like that, and the sounds of the pan flute will waft through the air, and suddenly, against my will, I’m being swirled into a Celtic soundscape. Or I am swimming through the ephemeral wreckage of an underwater kingdom guided by the light of three moons.

It’s sort of like being at the dentist and hearing Enya, and suddenly everything feels sweeping and timeless, except for the fact that when you open your eyes you are being offered bubblegum flavored fluoride by a very pale grownup.

What could be more discombobulating?

Monday, July 05, 2010

Top Ten Reasons I'm Not Upset About the BP Oil Spill

10. Everyone makes mistakes and it's really unfair to get angry about every little thing.
9. I live in New York so this doesn't really affect me.
8. It will definitely be okay by August, September at the latest.
7. Wait - what happened again? I'm sorry, my brain just exploded from sadness and now I can't remember anything about this event.
6. There are other planets.
5. Same thing I always say when stuff goes wrong: Murphy's Law!
4. Okay, so an oil well broke in mid-April and it's still leaking tens of thousands of barrels a day, well, you know what, I ALSO HAVE REALLY TERRIBLE BODY-IMAGE PROBLEMS. So I kind of have some other things on my plate!
3. Compared to the global nuclear war of 2013, this is gonna seem like pretty small potatoes.
2. I have faith that a great American leader is soon to emerge from a sweet little political movement known as the TEA PARTY.
1. Let's all just admit it. The ocean was never THAT awesome.

POSSIBLE PEN NAMES UNDER WHICH TO WRITE MY NEXT NOVEL

Emma Angelou
Angelou
Emma Safran Angelou
Emma Angelou Dickens
The Situation
The Game
Lil Darlin
Lil Sprout
Safran Safran Angelou
Emma D’Stand King
Grisham
Cassidy Lace
Tony Toni Tone
Rathbone
Dry Ice

Thursday, July 01, 2010

Diary of My Captivity With the Undermoon Sioux

Day twenty eight. I am cold. I am hungry. I have been given the pelt of an everbeast to keep me warm, yet it scratches, and the roughness of the hide is almost as unpleasant as the piercing wind. But I can see: these people are having a hard winter. The amulet they worship has been ebbing in its glow. One of the young men road out yesterday afternoon, and came back with only a sack full of sunberries to feed the tribe. As far as I can tell, we’re lost somewhere south of the Overman pass. To the east, according to my calculations, lies Harrow cliff. I’ve been making slow progress with the tribe wise man, a formidable fellow by the name of Windharness. He wears a belt made of noorhawk feathers, and if I am to understand the pictographs correctly, many moons ago he caught the soul of a whale, and now keeps it in a leather satchel. Yesterday, through a series of hand motions, we were able to communicate a little. He pointed to my bag as if to see what was inside. In my haste to show my cooperation, I pulled out a tampon. We both looked at it, and then looked at each other. I slowly put it back. I think he left more confused than he was when he came to visit me. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned it is that sometimes in order to take a step forward, you must take two steps back. I close with this: the moon is red tonight, and a chill rises from the east.