Peter Pan is a Garbage Monster

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Before last night, I hadn’t seen Peter Pan in years, the stage musical or otherwise, but as a little kid, I loved the 1960 Mary Martin version, never questioning Peter’s antics or why a 47 year old woman was playing a pre-pubescent boy.

That all changed last night!!! Watching NBC’s Peter Pan as an adult made me realize what a stone cold garbage monster Pete is!

Like, at best Peter is a total dick, at worst, he’s a high functioning sociopath who despite being, what, like, 100 years old? stalks and manipulates barely pubescent girls into coming away with him to clean his house and tell him what a hero he is, nearly getting them killed in the process. Then he sends them home, but only after telling them some sob story about how after choosing to run away as an infant, he decides years later to return home, only to be completely insulted that his parents didn’t leave a light on for him like they’re running a goddamn Motel 6. Peter gives these girls some damp eyes and a lip quiver, makes them promise to keep their bedroom window unlocked for when he wants to come back, only to actually fly through that window 30 years later to tell them their hands are too crepe-y to go back to Neverland, but can he please have your 12 year old daughter, you old gutter witch?

Also: was Christopher Walken thinking of Natalie Wood when he had to walk the plank or no?

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Dad’s Visit to LA

I dropped my dad off at the airport this morning after a most successful long weekend with him. My mom told me to show him a good time so he’d want to get a job near LA and move the rest of the family here from NH. I think I did an okay job because he seemed pretty impressed that there were so many places to get bottomless mimosas and nobody seems to care if you walk your dog through Nordstrom. Things you just don’t see in New Hampshire.

Some fun activities I had planned included going to Ikea on a Saturday afternoon and then bringing him to my improv 101 show.

photo 1Just kidding, that was just a description of two separate layers of Hell. However, I am not kidding that that is actually how we spent his California vacation. But wait! We also spent some time putting together the Ikea furniture and then he took me grocery shopping!  Soooooo, if you’re thinking about visiting LA and need a tour guide, I’m definitely a great candidate as long as you’re cool with spending $200 on me at Trader Joe’s and then just hanging a couple pictures, and if you have time, can you help me install some curtain rods in my room?

photo-3On Monday, I took my Dad to The Grove. We went to Planet Dailies and got a bunch of appetizers because he knows that my favorite kind of meal is comprised only of hors d’oeuvres (and I believe it is customary to do only what you want when hosting a guest in your home). Over sliders and lettuce wraps, he imparted this bit of fatherly wisdom: Bombay Sapphire Gin is smoooooooth.

photo 2After, we took a look around Dylan’s Candy Bar where I relived a recurring childhood disappointment of mine. All I ever wanted as a kid was something, anything, with my name on it, but there was always a “Dana,” never a “Dara.” I would have even settled for a keychain or mint tin that said “Jake’s Sister” since I was probably called that more often than my actual name.

photo 3

Anyway, the show Extra is filmed at The Grove, and we saw Maria Menounos, Mario Lopez, Eric McCormick from Will and Grace, and most exciting, the woman playing Anna Nicole Smith in the Lifetime biopic. They filmed a bunch of stuff in different outfits, so I’m pretty sure you can watch my dad on Extra through the rest of the week because he was a natural at finding the camera.

Oh, I almost forgot, Mario Lopez has no ass at all. There’s just literally nothing there but a surplus of denim fabric.

With that, Mario’s butt brought our weekend to a close. Pops and I had a great time since we get along so well and because our requisite for a fun vacation is only that we get to eat and drink purely for sport, and that’s mostly what we did. I haven’t eaten bite for bite with a 6’1″ man since I moved away, and it was a great change of pace from my usual diet of brown rice cakes and red wine.

I’m a 55-Year Old Divorcee: Part 112

Sarah Silverman just put my life to music. Just replace the lyrics “weed” with “wine” and “YouPorn” with “The Golden Girls.”

If you’re keeping a log of evidence as to why I’m really a 55 year-old divorced woman, here’s some more proof:

On Thursday, I turned down plans to drink alcohol with people my own age so I could stay in and watch The Office series finale while I had this audible crying fit that only a salt-and-pepper haired Michael Scott could trigger. This is something that hasn’t happened to me since The Nanny was cancelled when I was 11.  

Friday, I spent a couple hours doing a proper, full-body exfoliation and moisturizing treatment, then fell asleep on the couch watching 48 Hours. 

Finally, on Saturday I went out, and I felt like the spritely 24 year-old that I am. Until it came time to decide whether or not to sleep on the floor of the house I ended up in as 20- somethings are so wont to do. And although that floor or couch or bale of hay outside would have been equally as comfortable as the air mattress I was going home to, I ultimately decided that my overnight routine was not something I could just abandon. One night of neglecting to wash my face is not worth the week I would be paying for it– amiright, the cast of Hot in Cleveland?? Valerie Bertinelli knows exactly what I’m talking about.