Where art, entertainment, and lady dudeness intersect.
by Julia Prescott
8:00am
I am alive, but my will to go on is dwindling.
I stumble through out the open space within my studio apartment. Weak, but eagerly thinking strong thoughts. Light burns through the crevices of my drapes, taunting me with the hope of a day filled with productivity that other people - even the young Hispanic couple who hungrily makes-out at the bus stop at Sunset/Alvarado and whose concerns are solely concentrated on whether or not to continue making out even after a homeless man shouts, “WELL IF IT ISN’T SPRINGTIME. HELLO! HELLO!” right into their young impressionable faces - even they accomplish more than me in a single day; I scoff at the thought of their blossoming love.
10:57am
It’s still technically the morning and I’ve already watched every available episode of ABC Family’s Bunheads. I text to everyone in my favorites list “BUNHEADS IS THE SECOND COMING OF GILMORE GIRLS AND SUTTON FOSTER IS AN AMERICAN TREASURE.” I gain no responses. I am an island, and that island is a harbor for fast-talking sassy women and their mother/daughter figures.
1:51pm
I burn every copy of Entertainment Weekly I’ve inherited from visits to my Mother’s house for warmth. The letter from Owen Gleiberman burns brightest amid the technicolor frenzy of catty responses to what Miley Cyrus is wearing. I make a mental note to google what “YOLO” means later, my assumptions are as follows: Young Oppressors Like Oranges; Yancy Oggles Local Octogenarians; You Once Loved OK Go; Yaz Owns Lady Organs (that has got to be the one).
3:15pm
I catch a commercial in my third rewatching of the Bunheads pilot for the day that includes an American flag waving solemnly in the wind. I cry and am not ashamed.
4:07pm
I’m shaking uncontrollably and thinking about American heroes. Did they ever feel the way I feel right now? Was there ever a Judy Blume equivalent that would feed their pasty English/American heads with hopes and dreams; insecurities and uncertainties and the road map in how to deal with them? Are you there William Whipple? It’s me, Julia Prescott I think one of my ancestors was hanging with you 18th century-style but after a brief bit of research I realize this was a lie that my relatives told me to possibly feel more significant.
5:15pm
The answer is so clear to me, I’m embarrassed. What would my American ancestors do? Well I know what they DID do and it was have a TON OF MEETINGS where a dude who may or may not have resembled Mr. Pheeny from Boy Meets World walked around talk/singing his points of view (I have seen 1776: The Musical because I’m a goddamn American and I will not apologize) but they also CREATED THEIR OWN JOBS. I’ll just do that! Okay, where to start…
•Word Combiner : For when simple abbrev’s don’t quite hit the spot on what point you’re trying to convey. I step in and assist you into sentence superstardom.
•Hammock Warmer: Lying peacefully between two trees suspended a couple of feet off the ground is not just a summer activity. Let me come to you between the months of October-April and warm that hammock so you don’t have to!
•Web Video Anthropologist / YouTube Tour Guide: I write dissertations on the findings I’ve discovered of the human race through web video consumption as well as tell you which “Charlie Bit Me” remixed Auto-tuned cover is worth your 2 minutes.
•Podcasts???: Right?
•Coordinator of Crisis Management Relaxation - Nap Navigator Division: For what is the most optimal time to nap without ruining your day and your buzz (on life) (Hi Mom).
•Beard Monologist: Pure facial hair poetry.
•Snap! Snacks Inventor: Mid-day meals that could double as slang insults like “These snickers ain’t shit”; “Put your hand in my butterfinger”; and “Whoppers”.
•Cat Calligraphist: The best thing on the Santa Monica boardwalk directly between the silver techno robot guy and the Cat Psychic.
•Netflix Arbiter: Third-party vote on Netflix Instant Watch Disputes.
7:05pm
I close my laptop gently with the ease of someone who spent their 8 waking hours accomplishing something that contributes to the world. Yet, just as I encounter this emotion the terror - the horror washes over me and forces my half-painted fingernails to tremble uncontrollably: it’ll be another 6 days until a new episode of Bunheads is released. If you don’t hear from me in over 24 hours, don’t look for me - I wouldn’t want us both to encounter a world without witty feminine comebacks.