Thursday, 23 June 2011
I was in a musing mood for a while earlier while browsing YouTube and coming across some songs I haven’t heard in 12 years and thinking “Wow, late 90s and early 2000s were awesome for music”. Then it kinda hit me “Fuck, that was 12 years ago… I’m 26 this year…” I’ve joked a few times about getting “old” and as much as I know you’re only as young as the woman (or guy) you feel, it started to put a few things in perspective for me. A lot of people come to me for advice which I’m more than happy to dispense, but at the same time I get aggravated when people ask for my opinion and then go and do the absolute opposite or act like I haven’t said anything at all. Makes me kinda “FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUU-“ inside and wonder why they bothered asking me in the first place. I’ll admit that I’m not amazing at taking my own advice (but who is?) and that I’ve made a lot of mistakes. I see my life so far as an example on how NOT to do things and therefore I can tell people “Well, you don’t want to do xyz…” But I digress.
While thinking about the advice that I’ve dispensed, I’ve thought about the advice that I’ve been given and this ties into the whole YouTube thing as well. Back when I was 16, I thought I knew best. When people gave me advice, I ignored it. Back when I was 21, I thought I knew best. When people gave me advice, I ignored it. Now I’m almost 26, I know I don’t always know best. When people give me advice, I fucking listen. Yeah, it’s taken me almost 10 years to stop and think that people might actually have valid points when they give me advice. I suppose part of that was arrogance in a way, thinking that the other person didn’t know the whole situation in the same way that I did, that maybe they were wrong and things might actually work out if I did things my way. I guess my frustrations with my friends are a few things:
- I’ve generally been in similar situations and can see they’re heading down the same routes that I did (and the “but this time it might work” logic usually DOESN’T :P)
- I know I’ll be hearing about how it didn’t work out when it doesn’t
- I don’t want to see them get hurt
- It makes me feel like a failure when I advise someone and they still get hurt
But see, that’s part of what I have to re-learn. Emotional detachment, in a sense. I was at one extreme when I was with Robbie and he made me stop giving a shit about everyone and everything and I guess that lasted for longer than I thought. I dunno, it’s like after him when I was having to rebuild myself mentally, I ended up caring too much about others. In terms of opinions of me, the only ones I really care about are those of people who are important to me.
Along with all that came redefining who I was again and I guess it took longer than I thought. Steve was a very… oppressive individual. Much like my mother, he tried to impose his beliefs, likes and dislikes upon me. For a while, I gave into that. I was young and impressionable. Then I started to grow some balls (not literally) and realise that we actually had different tastes in certain things. He took objection to this as I think he wanted us to be the exact same person (and as I don’t take pleasure in beating the shit out of people, I guess we were never going to be that), and in the years that have passed, I appreciate having differences in a relationship all the more. It comes down to a balance. Too many or major differences and it won’t work. Too few and you get bored of each other. I know personally I like someone with a very similar personality to myself. I like to feel needed but not to the point where I’m propping the other person up 24/7. Making people believe in themselves seems to be something I’m good at. I’ve always had the “so and so was so quiet/down/introverted before they met you”. I wouldn’t say that I’m a bouncing off the walls ball of hyper squeeness all the time (although when I’m on a manic, I can be exactly that), but I do seem to give people some confidence. I enjoy doing batshit insane and random things. Sometimes the batshit insane and random things are pretty romantic. I don’t recommend writing a message in gravel on someone’s driveway when said driveway is the same colour as the gravel though. It tends to get overlooked due to the similar colour of the stones and as cute as the gesture may be, you also end up with the whole thing of the gravel goes everywhere. Yes, that is something I actually did for someone… -blush- Anyway, my point is that I enjoy that side of myself. Not just the romantic, but the desire to do those things that may seem crazy to others. Probably the same part of me that still loves going on the swings at the park at my age. The world has more than enough of its share of boring and ordinary. I guess that’s why I’ve always had a love of /b/ and all the random stuff that I come across on the internets not to mention the people I can mess around with and do crazy things with.
Having BPD is kinda challenging though. I mean, sometimes I can have amazing bouts of self-confidence and really be happy with myself and the next I can (in the words of Lit) “kick the living shit out of me”. Unfortunately I can’t just stop that and it’s generally when I need a bit of a push. As much as I know people overuse the tagline under my blog title, it’s very true for myself. My worst times are bad. I know this. They’re not as bad as they once were and for that I’m grateful. I honestly feel like I AM improving. I also know that my good times are fucking amazing and awesome. I hope to have many more while I can :3
Sunday, 12 June 2011
The Violets Explode Inside Me When I Meet Your Eyes, Then I'm Spinning and I'm Diving Like A Cloud of Starlings...
Well, something pretty huge happened last week. So much so that I thought I should actually write about it as it's made me think about a few things and I think they will remain true regardless of what happens from here on out.
Firstly, I met up with someone for the first time in over a year. I'll admit they've crossed my mind from time to time quite a lot since we kinda went our separate ways over a year ago. I know I wrote at great length about how I felt about things. At no point did I say I'd ever forgotten him. Because I hadn't. It was talking to him on Friday that made some things very clear to me:
Him: "You know, I honestly thought that you'd forgotten all those good times we had together and just trashed them... Like all you could think about was the bad and didn't remember the good."
That was far from the truth. I very often retold the amusing stories about how we were convinced this guy playing croquet looked like Gordon Freeman, about the time I got my face painted like a cat and walked around the local shopping centre, the time I danced in the snow outside The Forum catching snowflakes, the time we hid from a raging thunderstorm under the tiny shelter outside a pub, the time we had sex in Earlham Park during a firework display, the time we decided that the local park was like something out of Silent Hill, laughing at Failkid in said park... Heck, even the time we went to a photography exhibit at the Forum and wrote rude but intelligent things on the Post-It notes they'd so kindly provided at the back of the room. In short, we had a lot of great times together. Not just the crazy dressing up to play 4 different profiles each on Burnout times, but the curling up together and watching a film times, the laying on our backs in the park and watching the clouds go by times... I'll openly admit now that there have only been two people that I've slept with who I've looked in the eyes during sex and told them I loved them. He was one of them.
I never lied about how I felt about him or felt I was forcing anything. It just... WAS.
Anyway, I've been mulling some things over since I spoke to him. The comment about me forgetting the good and remembering only the bad made me think a lot. I read back over my journals and realised quite often I do the opposite. I'll forget the bad and remember only the good, pass up on seeing the flaws in the relationships because I get scared of being alone or because I refuse to recognise how deep the faults were. I've said before that I can make myself believe anything given enough time to logic it out. The amount of times I've stuck up for people and said "Oh well it wasn't THAT bad really" when actually it was.
I'd realised a few weeks ago that I was over Inigo. Doesn't mean to say that seeing him in the streets doesn't make me a mess. It's not because I still have feelings for him (if I do, it's something very different to what I felt when we were together), but more the memories connected to him. At the start of this year, he and I had a discussion about staying friends and I recall him saying something about it being very damaging. I was of the opinion that it would actually help us both move on properly and not leave anything lurking around to fuck either of us up in years to come. Having spent so many years trying to achieve closure on what happened between myself and Steve, I didn't particularly want to go through the same thing again. At the end of the day, we did have good times. We had some pretty amazing conversations. Some amusing incidents when we were out (though in retrospect getting a law student to steal a traffic cone wasn't really that big a deal). Somehow I could never shake the feeling that I wasn't good enough for him. And you know what? I think he knew it all along too. The longer the relationship went on, the more I realised that it was more and more me trying with it. That essentially I was a time filler until he went to Cambridge. That wasn't what I wanted to be. The more I look at things now from a distance, I realise how I was a lot more outgoing than he would ever be. Yes, I brought him out of himself, but there was just something that I was missing. I don't deal well being the dom in a relationship all the time. I mean, I can do it and it's fun from time to time, but not all the time. I guess that also brings me onto the sexual incompatabilities as well. I do like being treated a bit rough at times. Not as in being punched in the mouth until I bleed and then being forced to give a blowjob (which would be kinda weird even by my standards and I have no idea where that imagery came from), but simply enjoying someone being forceful with me and myself submitting. I know there's a good couple of people on my Facebook who know exactly what I'm talking about! But yeah, there was actually quite a lot of things that irritated me now I think about it. One of the largest was this:
Me, earlier this year: "If Inigo had really loved me, he wouldn't give a shit about an hour on a train"
And that was so very true. Norwich to Cambridge is nothing. I would totally have been understanding about the whole uni course coming before all else (fuck me, I was when he was still at the UEA) and again I felt like I was being labelled as a fucking Jess. One of the things that really annoys me is when people think they know how I'm going to behave. I did a fucking long distance relationship for a year and that was Norwich to London, back when I was 16 and couldn't actually afford to go and see him that often. In the first year of being together, we saw each other 3 times. We ended up being together for 5 fucking years total. So yeah, trying to say that you know how I will act is fucking bullshit. It seemed like he was looking for an easy way out and instead of being honest with me, there had to be some sort of charade instead. After I had sufficiently distanced myself, I realised that it was indeed a very one-sided relationship in terms of effort. Sure, there were the cute moments of walking me to Team, picking me up a random danish etc... To say it was all shit would be as bad as trying to blind myself and believe that it was all good.
At the end of the day, no relationship is 100% problem free. In the time that I've been away from the first person I referenced here (and for those who are maybe less astute, I'm talking about Richard), I do feel that a lot has changed. For starters, my personal circumstances are very different. My accommodation is stable, I have a better grasp on my mental health than I did back then, and as much as it pains me to say it, I learned a lot of harsh lessons. I'm also not the complete mouse that I used to be (I'll actually order drinks at a bar for example) and I feel that I have more of an identity than I used to. One of the problems of coming out of the whole Robbie and Steve thing was that I was still being repressed in many ways. I needed to be out on my own and find myself. As much as this past year has been me shutting myself off from people, I have actually found myself at the end of it and I believe I am a much stronger person now than I was then. I've had more than my fair share of skinned knees, but I'm standing back up again. A tad shaky maybe, but getting there. I do know that I'm in an entirely different position to what I was when I first met him. One thing he said was about how I was seemingly back to who I was when he first met me... That's true in a lot of ways. I'm certainly not the person I was last summer. By any stretch of the imagination. I can't say I'm entirely the person he first met either. I've learned and experienced things since then. In terms of temperament, I'd say it's pretty fitting. I just need to make sure I'm not bottling things up (which I rarely do now) and letting them get out of hand. Most things seem to be under control nicely right now and I have to say from the time I spent with him, he seemed a lot more responsive in terms of conversation. Like, before it used to be such a fucking chore to have a conversation that involved talking about anything involving emotion. That seemed to come a lot more freely on Friday.
I wouldn't be adverse to giving things another shot. I've actually kicked myself a lot since I turned down his proposition last year at that. At the time, I thought I was doing the right thing. I was listening to everyone else and that tipped the balance for me. I saw it as he'd moved on, didn't really want to be with me and that I was just useful as someone to screw when he was bored. So, I pulled myself together and then I met Inigo. I refused to listen to how I still felt about Richard (no, I never really stopped caring for him), convinced myself that moving forward was for the best (and maybe in some ways it was) and so when it came around to him asking me about giving things another shot... I bolted. Maybe some childish part of me wanted him to feel the way I did when he shot me down in flames before Christmas. Predominantly it was the whole thinking that other people were right and I was wrong for holding on to anything and thinking that he didn't give a damn about me. I realised on Friday that I had been so totally wrong about that and said the words I always find hard to say but I mean:
Where things go from here, I don't know. I... wouldn't be adverse to giving things another try if things continued to go well but I'm by no means pinning all my hopes on that happening.
But he will forever be my Starling <3
Monday, 18 April 2011
You know, I really wanted to make a positive blogpost. I thought about updating the other day as I realised I'd left it so long. Trouble is, I don't really have that much to write about at the moment. I know right now I'm about to hit another low and I don't know what to do about it.
Couple of weeks ago I was thinking about the whole anniversary of my diagnosis thing. Things have been a bit easier since I got it but things are still hella awkward. I'll be perfectly truthful, I sat thinking about that whole night and it made me feel physically sick. I don't know how much of it is because I've been heading towards this low for a while or what. I guess that's what I really hate. Not knowing why I feel certain things or being able to control so much of it.
Inside my head is just a fuckload of conflict. I hate isolating myself but at the same time I don't know how to be around people without hurting them. It'll be something stupid like a comment I make or one of my moods coming on and me not being able to do anything about it. I honestly don't know how to deal with it. Either way I push people away. I guess part of what sickens me at them moment is knowing that how I feel is part self-inflicted.
Right now, I have a vague idea of where I want things to go, a picture of how I want things to be. I just don't know how to achieve it.
Saturday, 19 February 2011
Wow... I didn't want to write this but I can see that I'm going to have to.
I had a crying fit a couple of days ago so I guess that yeah, I'm still hurting and the one I'm having now is only making that clearer. It was a year ago that the best thing I've ever had came into my life and 6 months ago that I threw that away. Is it any easier to deal with? Yes and no.
I've been through grief before. When my nan died, I was... well, inconsolable. I'm still not 100% with talking about her at times. Can still cause me to burst into tears. Guess I best be careful at the moment. Problem is that there's so much going through my head that I'm finding it hard.
I was originally going to write a post on the 14th. I got part of the way through writing before I became completely consumed by tears and couldn't go on.
I thought I was starting to heal from this some. That because I wasn't crying every morning and night that I was getting better. That because he and I have chatted a couple of times on Facebook chat that I was more at ease. I'll be honest, I am. But it still hurts like hell. Whether I had contact with him or not, I guess this is just the way things are for me for the forseeable future. I feel better having some contact with him than when we weren't talking at all. That was actually completely unbearable and I didn't mention it to anyone at the time (although I have spoken to a couple of people since), but I was actually thinking of committing suicide around New Years. I just wanted to stop feeling. I guess I'm starting to understand why 10% of people with BPD commit suicide. And you know what? I hate admitting that was how low I felt. Fuck, how low I feel today to an extent.
I hurt because I still love him. I hurt because I know that's not returned. I hurt because I know I've lost the best thing that ever happened to me. I hurt for the things I did that contributed to losing that. I hurt because I know this is how things will always be for me. I hurt because I know that nothing I do will change that. I hurt because even though I've been trying to sort things out, it's seeming more and more to be an exercise in futility.
I was honestly hoping that we'd be able to talk more. Things seemed to be going well and in a positive direction. There seemed some actual desire on his part to at the very least discuss things more at length. For the past couple of weeks I've gone back to being ignored again. I feel like I'm repeatedly smashing my head against a brick wall no matter which way I turn.
Guys either treat me like shit or for an ego boost. I guess that's another reason why I'm not exactly jumping back into dating. I know that I'd most probably be wishing I was with Inigo still, comparing them to him, that I'd be unhappy because I'd be with a douchebag again. Why do people use me? Is it that it's my place in life? Should I just accept it and let it happen? Because I don't think I'd be able to. In fact, I know I'm not able to. Fuck, I've got tears just thinking about it.
Whenever I think I can deal with being alone, I then get kicked in the arse with remembering what I've lost. Whenever people ask me what my biggest fear is, I can honestly say it's being alone. I miss curling up on a sofa with someone, exchanging stupid little in-jokes, that happy "well fuck everything I don't care" feeling from being with someone you love. You know what one of the other problems is? Even if I did find someone, I'd be far too scared of hurting them. Sometimes I wonder if Robbie was right with what he tried to do in his attempt to emotionally castrate me. Maybe I should get doped up with meds to the point where I don't feel anything any more.
I feel awful for still feeling this way. I'm sick of it, I'm sure other people are sick of it too. I just don't know how to make it stop. There's no off switch although I wish to non-existent god that there was. I've had guys drive me to drink, I've had guys drive me to drugs. I think this is the first time I've had a break up drive me to prescription meds. There's only so much I can handle on my own. I just with every time I start coping I didn't end up being sucked back down and could cope. There's not one second that goes past that I don't wish that I didn't have BPD. That I could just wave a magic wand and have it vanish. I try so fucking hard to fix myself and it just gets me nowhere. What's the point any more?
Ok, that's enough emo outpouring for today.
Friday, 4 February 2011
After spending a couple of hours in bed re-watching Yahtzee reviewing various games on Zero Punctuation, I guess it stoked the critic in myself somewhat. That and being semi-irritable anyway due to feeling like crap. Since there now appears to be a group of chavs outside my window (I'm assuming drunk from the sounds of coughing and aggressive conversation however you can never quite tell with chavs), and I have no desire to get up from my bed to yell at them and fear that if I did so it would cause me to vomit, I shall instead direct my vitriol at something else that annoys me. Tough decision as it'd be pretty awesome if I managed to projectile vomit on them from my window, but having just seen my Facebook feed I couldn't resist this one.
Now, many of you know that I have quite a diverse taste in films. From your herpderp comedies to obscure Asian films to slashy horror to psychological mindfuck to even, brace yourselves, the odd Disney film. Yeah, I liked The Fox and the Hound. It made me cry. At the age of 25. My top films are quite a mixed bag including the gritty realism of Trainspotting, the foolish yet charming Four Weddings and a Funeral, the behemoth of a saga that is Lord of the Rings (as anyone who knows me well remembers, it HAS to be the extended editions of all films watched back to back because the story is incomplete otherwise) and the saccharine wit of Mean Girls. What drew my attention to this particular subject at this point in time was this.
Now, before I jumped straight for the general rule of SEQUELS ARE BAD, MM'KAY?, I thought back to some occasions where I had been pleasantly surprised.
American Pie 2 - Most of the original cast, actually showed storyline progression and character development. Awesome soundtrack and the humour was just as fresh as the first film.
Spiderman 2 - While it had some flaws, it still wasn't a dire sequel. Spidey was a tad emo for my tastes but hey, that goes with the general angst of his character at times. That's Marvel's fault there.
Pirates of the Caribbean 2 - As entertaining as the first and not just because of Miss Knightly's chest although that should have been the alternative subtitle of the film in my personal opinion -coughs-
Toy Story 2 - Sure, Pixar could have just made the first film and not gone back, but this sequel actually worked.
Clerks II - "Sometimes, in the heat of the moment, it's forgivable to go ass to mouth." I love this film almost as much as the first <3
I could list more but then I would be missing the point of my post and just reviewing films. So back to the task in hand.
My first thoughts on a sequel to Mean Girls was something like this:
"ZOMFG LINDSEY LOHAN IN SKIMPY CLOTHES AND MORE FAP MATERIAL!!!1!"
I will openly admit that I would quite happily watch the scene from Mean Girls with the Santa outfit dance routine over and over and over and over and over and over and over again until my hand glued itself to my vagina or was worn down to a nub. While Ms Lohan isn't exactly the shining role model that she was back then or half, nay a quarter, as attractive, the memories still persist. Being able to visually replay them makes it all the sweeter. So yes, to say that I was actually excited was an understatement. For those curious, my underwear remained dry. Mostly.
So, I decided I was going to have a little look at exactly what was going on with this sequel, who was returning, what the premise of the plot was (not wanting to know too much of course as that would be the equivalent of walking in on the final scene in the cinema) and WHEN THE HELL WAS IT GETTING TO ENGLAND!
You know the saying that Google is your friend? You know how friends sometimes have to tell you really shitty things that you don't want to hear, it upsets you and you feel betrayed by your friend because in the emotional maelstrom that has arisen you lose sight of the fact that your friend is simply relaying information for your own good or because you actually fucking asked for it? Yeah, that's how I feel towards Google now. At this very moment I'm using Bing as I feel that I'll take further bad news better from someone I know doesn't really matter. I've not quite reached the depths of asking someone I never speak to anymore (Yahoo), someone who went missing (Lycos/Tripod) or someone who changed so much that they're just not the same person anymore (Ask Jeeves).
Fact of the matter is that I found out that Mean Girls 2 is many things.
- Devoid of any of the original cast except the principal
- Set in the same high school with the same name with the same principal but IN A DIFFERENT LOCATION
- A "stand-alone sequel/spin-off" film
- Was released on 23rd Jan 2011 on ABC Family with DVD release being on 1st Feb 2011
Now, as much as I loathe to admit it, I have judged this film without seeing it the same way as I know from skimming the description of a website that involves the words "Twilight" and "fanfiction" that I would rather to gouge out my eyes with a rusty spoon and eat my own eyeballs with raspberry coolis than actually enter the site. It's like being a diabetic and being told that there's a golden syrup drinking contest that you're guaranteed to win if only you sign this little entry form which no-one else has or will. You don't need to go to sea in a boat full of holes to know that it will sink because it is obvious it is a FAILBOAT from just looking at the idea on paper. At least I did this the justice of at least checking it out before writing it off which just goes to show that I'm not entirely adverse to giving things a chance, even when it's something that could bastardise something that I love and adore.
If you've never watched Mean Girls, DO SO NOW AND COME BACK TO ME IN 97 MINUTES WHEN YOU HAVE BASKED IN IT'S GREATNESS. Or if you're too cheap to go out and buy what is now a nicely cheap film (what with it coming out in 2004 and all) or too lazy to torrent it (as much as I don't advocate downloading films illegally), I'll sum it up.
Mean Girls is a simple yet hilarious teen comedy penned by Tina Fey who was the head writer on Saturday Night Live for a good many years and still appears on to this very day. Don't be put off by the mention of Ms. Lohan in the film, she actually looks damn attractive and acts in the best role she's had in her entire career (I Know Who Killed Me basically involved her taking her clothes off a lot which puts it as her second best film of her career due to lack of depth of her role there). After all, this was the film that catapulted her from Disney Mouseketeer to actually hot actress.
Mean Girls was to some extent an updated version of Heathers, only without the explosions, mass murder and Christian Slater slurring like a retard. A sort of PG-13 version with less language, less sex and much less violence (although there's a scene with a minibus although sadly nothing can actually be seen). However, what it lacked for in "explicit" content, it made up for in upbeat humour and that warm fuzzy feeling at the end of the film. Heathers is a damn good film, don't get me wrong, but Mean Girls is more of a family film and makes you feel warm and floofy afterwards.
Set in a high school, you have the various cliqués, their interactions and adventures with Ms. Lohan playing the new kid from out of town who has the awkward job of fitting in. As someone who had to move schools many times, I could identify with her a lot. Much more so than the same role in Heathers played by Christian Slater who you know isn't quite right in the head quite early on and you can tell from the outset is a bit of a wanker.
While Heathers is not without it's many charms, it just doesn't hit the same spot as Mean Girls. Part of this is probably because Heathers hasn't aged too well at all. For a film made in 1988, it's still enjoyable but you get the obvious feeling of when it was made. Understandable as it's clearly a film of the period and I imagine in 2024 we'll be saying the same about Mean Girls along with "Where the fuck is my hoverboard? It's 9 years overdue now!". Mean Girls contained so many quoteable phrases that most likely die with age, however. Saying "That's SO fetch!" was something that only came around with Gretchen trying to make fetch 'happen' in the film which in turn caused it TO happen. Mostly only by people who watched the film and found it hilarious to use the quote without realising the irony in what they were doing though. The best Heathers could aspire to was "What's your damage?" which probably worked back in the 80s (I was 3 when the film came out, cut me some slack here) but certainly hasn't dated as well as "It's not my fault that I have a heavy flow and a wideset vagina", "She doesn't even go to this school!", "I have a fifth sense... it's like I have ESPN or something", "Boo, you whore", "Too gay to function" or many of the other great lines from this film which I swear will never get old.
Anyway, Ms. Lohan meets the kids at the school, has difficulty to adjusting to Western life after growing up in Africa and being homeschooled (though not in a Tarzan-esque way), makes friends with a couple of the "rejects", decides to infiltrate the Plastics to fuck their shit up, becomes one of them, realises who her true friends are and in doing so teaches the Plastics a lesson as well as herself and the whole film has a huge awwwwww ending. In a nutshell.
You know that the film is taking the piss out of itself at times, out of certain characters and that at the end of the day, it's a truly outstanding piece of cinematic excellence. While it won't change the world like The Matrix, it doesn't try to. It's good at being what it is without needing to be pretentious or over hyped. If you feel it IS over hyped without having seen it, you've clearly not heard of a film called SEX AND THE CITY (unknown subtitle of the first film being: Because 6 Seasons Just Wasn't Enough).
So, now I have finished sucking the cock of Mean Girls dry, I shall explain exactly why it irks me so that this "sequel" has been made:
Because it's not a fucking sequel.
Mean Girls tied up the story nicely at the end and a sequel would have been taking the characters someplace else (like university, sorry 'college'), making ocassional references to the first film without over doing it, thrown in a couple of old jokes with a load of fresh new humour, played with some gentle satire of teenage pregnancy and made us all smile again at the end with that floofy feeling. Mean Girls 2 is in no way a sequel unless you're looking at it from the perspective of Principal ("Hell, no. I did NOT leave the South Side for this!") Duvall who has lost his love interest of Ms. Norbury (played by Tina Fey) in this sloppily done "follow up".
I do feel for Meaghan Martin who played Bridget in 8 Simple Rules pretty brilliantly. I can see how she would suit this sort of film but sadly to myself and many others, Mean Girls was a film that should not have had a "sequel" made. Just like Donnie Darko did not need a number two and the resulting product was a huge pile of it. Same goes for The Butterfly Effect.
I guess the main morals of this story are that if it's a straight to TV/DVD film, it's generally going to be pants and if you're going to make a "sequel" to a popular film, make it canon with at least the main characters recast in their roles, the screenwriter being in charge of the script or a clearcut sequel with new characters and some form of link to the first film. Not every romantic tragedy is called Romeo and Juliet (and thank fuck or we'd be into the 1000s), not every romantic comedy is called The Taming of the Shrew and by the same logic, not every teen comedy is called "Let's rip off the most recent popular film of this genre that we can think of because we can't do a better job at being original".
If Tina Fey was dead, I'd say that she was turning in her grave. However she's far from it and I sincerely hope that she's at the very least facepalmed many times and made some calls to her lawyers for ABC/Paramount making people think that she's in any way related to this giant turd.