The Jigtastic Journal of J. Na Na

I swear, I should turn some of the nightmares I have into movies.  If I had a knack for it, I could make some bank screenplays, I tell you.

The other night, after watching "The Sopranos" and falling asleep, I dreamt of this mob type family in this dark, gothic house, plotting something.  Their grandfather had died, but they were able to still communicate with him through this old black and white movie that played on a projector.  He would speak with them through bits and pieces of the actors’ lines. 

At one point, one of the women in the family got too caught up in what he was saying, and though they tried to warn her, she got swallowed up in the movie.  Her legs were torn off, then turned around, and put back on her body.

Gross?  Freaky?  Yes.  But would probably make a good indie B movie.

And last night’s dream was about all the cars in this town coming alive and attacking everyone.  I know it sounds cheesy, but if you’ve seen "Christine", you can imagine what a frightening premise that would be.  I mean, it wasn’t just regular cars, but motorcycles, semis, cop cars, the whole lot.

Still, I miss the happy dreams where I fly.

MTV’s 2007 VMA’s were held in Las Vegas this year at the Palms, intending to give the feel of an ongoing party with bands playing in various different suites, as well as the main stage area.  For pop, I’ll give it a nine.  For consistency, a flat four.  In true MTV form, only bits of songs were played by the bands, they weren’t introduced, there was no host, and it was all a bit disconnected.

The big let-down, though, was Britney opening the show.  She was really the only reason I tuned in, since I still would like to hold out for my Brit Brit to have a come back.  But nay.  With her midsection hyper-tanned to conceal all pregnancy fat, she warily walked about on stage, lip synching while her back-up dancers did all the work to her stripper anthem "Gimme More".  Well, she gimme less, and I was ill-impressed.  Such a change from her charged performance side-by-side with Christina and Madonna a few years back.  Or when she walked onstage with a giant boa constrictor around her neck.  Or her technofied performance of "…Baby One More Time" at her first VMA’s.  Disappointing.

Chris Brown, the only black guy I’d ever do, jumped about platforms and danced his little black heart out, ending his number to Michael Jackson’s "Billie Jean".  His was the best of the night.

Justin Timberlake, whom I normally dislike, twice issued challenges to MTV to play more videos when he had the platform, and was met with thunderous cheers at the wise suggestion.  I mean, I doubt anyone who once watched MTV when it first came out still watches it today.  What does X-Zibit pimping someone’s ride or Nick Cannon and company bad-mouthing one another in ghetto speak have shit to do with music?

The categories had been reduced from genre to titillating titles like Monster Single of the Year and Most Explosive Collaboration.  Rhianna’s "Umbrella" inexplicably won for Video of the Year.  Jamie Foxx presented with Jennifer Garner and talked all over her, promoting something that comes out in September that we couldn’t care less about.  Kid Rock apparently got into it with Tommy Lee, and missed out presenting.  And all in all, it was a fairly lukewarm, predictable show. 

I get that they were trying to parlay the party to the audience at home, but I was so glad I was at home and not at the party.

I’m so fucking sick of this heat.  I know it’s nothing compared to most parts of the world, but says this California boy, No me like ’cause it big bite.  I’m sick of my clothes sticking to me from my sweat.  I’m sick of just the walk to the bus stop causing droplets of sweat to form on my brow, making my man makeup run.  And the mere act of sitting in my room exposes me to, like, 5% humidity, even with the fan on.  Ridick.

I’m just a little dizzy and irritable at present.  But then, when you have to lead a forty-something new hire orientation and do all the prep work yourself because some of your co-workers are schlubs, it tends to piss off.

From "While You Were Sleeping"…
Lucy: "You give up your seat everyday in the train."
Peter: "Well…that’s not heroic."
Lucy: "It is to the person who sits there."

I wake up most mornings with Lily Allen’s "LDN" in my head.  What does the LDN stand for?

My mom used to call tennis shoes "tennies".

I once saw Geena Davis in downtown Santa Barbara.  She’s tall as fuck!

I can’t believe people still smoke.

It still amazes me that the euro exists.