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They made out like bandits all. night. long.

June 19, 2011

You know that movie Shutter starring Joshua Jackson? It’s not very good.  I watched it on mute while I was eating beef & chili pepper soup at M Noodle.  But I could tell that if the sound had been on, it just would’ve been worse.  Joshua Jackson still looks like a baby! I finished my soup before the movie was over and when I got back home, I looked up the ending.  *Spoiler Alert*: at the end of the movie Joshua Jackson has terrible back pains and his scale tells him he weighs much more than he should. It turns out that the ghost of his dead Japanese lover is sitting on his shoulders!!!!! AHHHH! I thought ghosts were made of air? Or ether? Or Devon Sawa?

she really does not look that heavy, right?

Joshua Jackson in Shutter and I have a similar predicament, it seems.  I too feel like the ghost of my Japanese lover has been sitting on my shoulders.  I have terrrrrrrible posture.  It’s so bad.  Sometimes I catch glimpses of myself in car windows or on the security camera at the bank and I think, “My god, who is that unfortunate, hunched girl?” I also notice that my face seems to have been put on crooked but that’s a whole other bag of insecurities.  My posture makes my back and neck and shoulders ache. It makes me stick my belly out, which inevitably invites stupid idiots to ask me if I’m expecting (EXPECTING WHAT?! EXPECTING TO GO HOME LATER AND PROBABLY GO TO BED AT A REASONABLE TIME? EXPECTING NATALIE PORTMAN TO WIN THE OSCAR?EXPECTING TO GET QUESTIONS ABOUT MY IMAGINARY UNBORN CHILD? ). 

Bad posture hurts so much.  I’ve looked up how to cure it and one thing Mr. Internet says is to imagine that a helium balloon is attached to the crown of my head, pulling it up.  I do try to do that, but my stupid dead Japanese lover sits on the balloon and pops it! Mental tricks only work if you remember to do them.  Then, before you even realize what’s happening, your spine melts back to its original S position, belly out, shoulders forward. Hunchy. 

I’ve figured out what to do, though.  It’s sort of like tying a string around your finger (but how will I remember what the string stands for?).  Internet told me to draw a stick figure and tape it somewhere so that when I see it, I’d be reminded to sit up straight.  I can do one better: I’m drawing a stick figure on my hand, and on that stick figure’s shoulders would be the ghost of Joshua Jackson’s dead Japanese lover, and on her head would be a helium balloon.

Problem solved.

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