Monthly Archives: November 2007

A.P.P.W.H.P.

Or, Addison practices playing with her privates.

I’ll explain. Now, I’m going to try to put my thoughts into words instead of trying to spell out the grunting noises and exasperated dance moves I make every time I watch anything Shonda Rhimes creates.

This week’s (actually a couple of weeks ago now, as it took me forever to post this) episode of Private Practice was about many things, but most importantly: female masturbation. Because masturbation isn’t just about feeling good. It’s empowering, and every woman’s right. It’s also cutting edge. Who said women aren’t doin’ it for themselves? You heard wrong. Get with it people, it’s 2007. (And let me be clear when I say…hey, do what you need to do. But quit with the patting yourself on the back ’til the cows come home.)

So Addison wakes up every morning for a couple of days straight rather forcefully, her sex dreams (involving Pete, a.k.a Tim Daly a.k.a Wings guy) are so intense that she literally rolls right out of bed in the morning. (Haha. Let’s call him Spicy Wings.) So yeah. It really made her roll out of bed? Really? Can we not go overboard here? And gee, what else is typical of a Shondaland production? Repetition. Non sequiturs, or rather, simple phrases that dress up like non sequiturs to make conversation quirkier and deeper at the same time! For example: Tom and Dick might be talking about their childhood memories of their fathers when all of sudden Harry states simply: “Mustard.” Of course Tom and Dick have no idea what Harry is talking about until Harry completes his thought a second or two later. Harry’s dad used to take him to baseball games all the time as a kid. Hot dogs were a given at these games, and Harry’s dad was a pro at opening several mustard packets (at one time!) with his teeth. Every time Harry sees a mustard packet, he thinks of those good old days. So why didn’t Harry just say all that to begin with? See, Harry just wanted them to first get the essence of what he wanted to say first. He couldn’t have articulated what exactly he meant, because that’s boring. Cool people, quirky people who imagine their lives are being taped, usually talk in circles around each other.

So Addison needs to scratch the itch. When Violet and Naomi find out that she doesn’t masturbate, they try to champion the cause. Which leads to …you guessed it…an uncomfortable situation where a man walks in and hears the three women talk about sex. AWKWARD! Of course, Spicy Wings ends up finding out about the fantasies and the two have this scene at the end of the episode where you think it might end up being in one of their heads…but it ain’t a dream! It’s real life. REAL LIFE. And it’s supposed to be funny/sexy but ends up being really clunky and dorky, the opposite of slick and sexy. Pete has an injured hand from punching some guy in the face and Addison asks to look at it. This interaction gives her the push she needed to scratch her itch. She gets turned on by the fact that Spicy Wings hit someone like “a cowboy, a-a gladiator”. Spicy Wings agrees. He is a cowboy! A gladiator! Spicy Wings the cowboy! Spicy Wings the gladiator! Addison forgoes the opportunity to get it on with Spicy Wings the cowboy, Spicy Wings the gladiator to get it on with herself (vis a vis a very expensive showerhead) and she tells him this. She basically says, “Whoa. Would you look at the time. I have to go home and play with myself.” If a guy said that to a girl, you better believe a drink would materialize to be thrown in his face. So you’ve noticed that Spicy Wings’ now a cowboy and a gladiator, right? See how I repeated myself to the nth power? Well, imagine Shonda harnessing that power (“A person should have a whole life.” “I dropped the ball.” “Seriously?” ENOUGH ALREADY!.). Addison needs to keep repeating this …mantra (?) to herself before doing the deed. “Cowboy. Gladiator. Scratch the itch.” she intones before breathing deep and looking like she’s LITERALLY about to actually plunge into something. No, seriously. She looks ready to smash through a wall or something. Def. not sexy.

P.S. I don’t know about you, but I don’t particularly like the itch analogy. Also not sexy. Makes me feel like buying ointment.

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Gr8 things about me

Meg tagged me to post 8 random things about my kitchen, but I think I’ll just do 8 random things about myself instead (since I don’t spend too much time in the kitchen anyway :P)

1. I’m double jointed in my shoulders. I never knew this until about senior year in high school when I was leaning over and stretching with my hands clasped above my head and suddenly my arms flopped over my head. It was the weirdest, creepiest thing ever. And then I preformed the same trick over and over for peanuts. Just kidding. But I did become something of a show off.

2. My family and I quote random lines from movies that no one would ever think to memorize. Like this line: “Fill er up. Fill er up. Fill er up please. Thaaaank you.” Or this one: “Crazy old Maurice, eh? Craaaazy old Maurice.” It doesn’t do them justice to write them out, as the intonation is the best part about them. We also quote random lines from our childhood, things crazy kids that we grew up with said like once…we have too many inside quotes/jokes to count. It’s pretty amazing…buuut it’s just part of our lives. 😛

3. I get these “growing pains” in my legs and arms and have been getting them since I was a little kid. It feels like someone’s pulling my limbs from both ends. Usually it’s only one leg or arm at a time. I guess they’re technically not growing pains because I think I’m done growing, but whenever I get really stressed out or it’s that time of the month…there it comes again.

4. I don’t like spiders. Or most bugs. I think the reason they gross me out so much is that I always think about putting them in my mouth. SICK!

5. I have a mole on my left eyelid.

6. My nickname in college (mostly freshman year) was Miss Clemons, because I seemed like “a schoolteacher”. And I ask you, do schoolteachers puke in their bunk beds?

7 . I check under my bed before going to sleep every night (I get obsessive-compulsive about weird things, what can I say?). I started doing this after watching something about John List on television, a man who killed his entire family in cold blood (to ensure that they got into heaven…wtf man, WTF?). He’s literally my boogeyman.

8. I want to move to Hawaii because who wouldn’t want to live in paradise, right? But then I worry that it won’t be as cool as it is in my head and I’ll hate it or think it’s boring.

Andy, on your mark, set, go.

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