A Way Out

it's a miracle!

2006-10-24T23:55:00.000-04:00

Ok, "miracle" may be over-selling it, but how else to explain this.

Save me Jebus!

nerdy and proud

2006-08-16T15:45:00.000-04:00

So today, I had to go deposit some checks, and decided to wait on the tellers' line, as opposed to using the ATM. As I got closer to the front, I heard a teller say, "Will the following customer please step forward?" I thought that word choice was interesting, because I usually expect a list to come after "following,' e.g., "The best parts of summer include the following: the nice weather, BBQs, and flip flops." Why couldn't they just say, "will the next customer please step forward?"

In any case, the tellers must have been instructed to use this ridiculous turn of phrase, because they ALL were doing it. "Will the following customer please step forward?" "Will the following customer please step forward?" "Will the following customer please step forward?" "Will the following customer please step forward?" You can see how that's annoying, and just plain wrong, right?

It's cool. I own my nerdiness. I just uncovered this, which was one of my all time favorite clips on Sesame Street.

Read, Enjoy and Discover.

Here's some more nerdy and ridiculous news.

slow news day

2006-07-17T17:58:00.000-04:00

This qualifies as news? Seriously? Anyway, you might as well read it -- Oprah Says She's Not Gay.

Stay tuned for the next article in this series: Pope Says He's Not Jewish.

you're killing your father, larry

2006-06-19T14:09:00.000-04:00

I quite enjoyed David Sedaris's commencement address at Princeton. Check it out. (For the record, he did not actually attend Princeton.)

P.S. Here are some thoughts on the new Mac campaign ad.

no moore i love yous

2006-06-15T13:48:00.000-04:00

Well, apparently Zach Braff and Mandy Moore have broken up. I happen to be fans of both of them -- before you scoff at the Mandy revelation, go see Saved! and her arc in Entourage. Immediately. (Ok, and A Walk to Remember is fun in a guilty-pleasure sort of way). Anyway, while I'm sure this more-private-than-most celebrity couple will not be on the cover of magazines (especially when Shiloh is poised to learn how to hold up her head), I thought that another installment of Headlines They Could Write would be appropriate. It remains to be seen if they will remain caring and committed friends. And away we go:

Amor No Moore
No Moore than Friends
Mandy's New(ly) Single
Zach Back on the Market
Braff Scrubs Away Tears
Chasing Liberty
Oh, Mandy
Moore and Braff: Ripped in Half
Weeds in the Garden, State Mandy and Zach
Moore and Braff's Relationship Smells Like New Jersey

i'll try to remain calm [submissive]

2006-05-23T18:26:00.000-04:00

There are ten words, which, when heard in sequence, indicate to me that I am about to enjoy 30 minutes of unadulterated entertainment. The words in question?

"I rehabilitate dogs. I train people. I am...the Dog Whisperer."

Ah yes, the Dog Whisperer, Senor Cesar Millan. If you are not familiar with this wonderful program on the National Geographic channel, here's how it goes. A suffering dog owner (from Southern California, which adds to his or her general ignorance of the ways of the world) complains to Cesar that his or her pet, for example, does pirouettes every time a car drives by. Or, perhaps, the dog has a phobia of microwaves. Maybe the dog has a nasty habit of taping over Lost episodes. Whatever. Undoubtedly, Cesar will, at some point say, "your dog eez not your child. Your dog eez a dog." Catch phrases such as "calm submissive" (what the dog should be), "calm assertive" (what the owner should be), and "pack leader" (owner again) are tossed around dilly dally. And it's all about the "Tcch" -- the shushing sound that Cesar makes again and again (usually with the assistance of a choke chain) to get the dog to behave. It's pretty amazing. The most hyper Jack Russell Terrier and the most vicious Pit Bull are no match for Cesar's "Tcch"!

The combination of the oblivious dog owners and the intuitive Dog Whisperer makes for some quality television. You can see the light bulbs go off in the owner's head, as Cesar explains in his lovable accent, "Een order to get reed of the dog's energy, you must take him on more walks," or "remember to be calm and assertive," or, "eef you want the dog to stop eating him from the table, stop feeding him from the table." Like I said, southern California.

Sometimes Cesar even gets his family in on the act. It's like the Millan Family Players. Got a German Shepard who hates kids on skateboards? No problem, Cesar's son will calmly glide by the animal on a skateboard while his father mans the leash. Got a St. Bernard with cannibalistic tendencies? No worries, Cesar will offer up his own family pet as bait. Got a misogynistic Daschund? Simple solution -- Cesar will have his wife show up and solve quadratic equations in the dog's presence.

Sadly, my little guilty pleasure is now approaching cultural saturation. He's in the New York Times; he's in the New Yorker; he's on Oprah; and he's even parodied on South Park. But I'm not bitter like I was when Dave Matthews sold out. No. Cesar is a man of the people, and his voice should be heard. He is...the Dog Whisperer.

giving the people what they want

2006-05-03T16:37:00.000-04:00

So, a while back, I presented a list of random search terms that had led people to this here blog. One of these phrases was "kelly ripa tide commercial." Now, apparently this is way more popular than I anticipated, as I have noticed lately that many many people have showed up here after looking for "kelly ripa tide commercial." I decided to investigate the situation, and it appears, that if you type in "kelly ripa tide commercial" on google, I am the second link. The second! (Though after I'm done here, it may very well be the first.) I am sure that all of these people hate me, as I have nothing to do with "kelly ripa tide commercial," nor any of the terms listed therein. However, in the spirit of good will and procrastination, I have located the "kelly ripa tide commercial." In fact, I have located two of them. I did not even know that "kelly ripa" was featured on a "tide commercial," because, with the wonder of DVR, I no longer watch commercials. However, apparently, "kelly ripa" is in a "tide commercial" for the product called tide-to-go, kind of like a stain stick that seems to work instantaneously. Would you like to see the television spots in which "kelly ripa" sells "tide commercial"ly? Today's your lucky day! Kindly go here and you can watch "kelly ripa tide commercial" to your heart's desire. And as an added bonus, here's Kelly's self-parody on SNL, wherein she sells hair color with just a touch of crack cocaine.

Incidentally, tide-to-go looks like a wonderful product. I think I might have to buy some. Yay, advertising works! Thank you, "kelly ripa tide commercial" -- for everything.

fun with news.

2006-05-02T16:45:00.000-04:00

Baby steps, patient readers. Baby steps.

Couple, 33 and 104, Reportedly Marry
KUALA LUMPUR, Malaysia (AP) -- A 33-year-old man in northern Malaysia has married a 104-year-old woman, saying mutual respect and friendship had turned to love, a news report said Tuesday.
It was Muhamad Noor Che Musa's first marriage and his wife's 21st, according to The Star newspaper which cited a report in the Malay-language Harian Metro tabloid.
Muhamad, an ex-army serviceman said he found peace and a sense of belonging after meeting Wook Kundor, whom he said he initially sympathized with because she was childless, old and alone, the report said.
''I am not after her money, as she is poor,'' Muhamad reportedly said. ''Before meeting Wook, I never stayed in one place for long.''
He said he hoped to help his new bride to master Roman script while she taught him Islamic religious knowledge.
The report did not say if any of Wook's previous 20 husbands are still alive.
Malaysian Muslim men are allowed by their religion to take up to four wives at a time, but reports of women who marry more than once are rare. Muslim women do not practice polygamy.
Malaysia's 26 million population comprises about 60 percent Muslims, almost all ethnic Malays. Large ethnic Chinese and Indian minorities are Buddhists, Hindus or Christians
http://www.nytimes.com/aponline/world/AP-Unusual-Couple.html?_r=1&oref=slogin

Ok, now that you've digested, here are my thoughts.
First, how LAME is this headline? If ever there were a story in need of a pun or some exploitation, this is it. Here are just a few suggestions:
Corpse Bride
Robbing the Grave
Memo to J.Lo: Here is your future
Old Maid No More
More Nookie for Wookie
33 Year Old Finds What He's Wooking For

Also, here is my favorite sentence:
The report did not say if any of Wook's previous 20 husbands are still alive.
Why this is relevant, I do not know. I would have preferred it, though, if the line actually said, "none of Wook's previous 2o husbands could be reached for comment."

In related news, Anna Nicole Smith just announced that she is considering lesbianism. Get it? Because she likes marrying old people? And she just won at the Supreme Court, so it's timely?

Like I said, baby steps.

good times

2006-04-21T10:57:00.000-04:00

Hey, remember when I used to post things here?

That was fun.

further evidence that my boss has no idea who i actually am

2006-04-05T12:08:00.000-04:00

Yesterday, he called me in for a sit-down meeting, during which one of his main talking points is that I am too "taciturn."

In case you've forgotten, or your SAT lexicons are nowhere to be found, I will refresh your memory.

taciturn -- adj. -- (1) habitually untalkative. See synonyms at silent; (2) habitually reserved and uncommunicative.
courtesy of dictionary.com

Now, there are two explanations for the boss's analysis:
1. The Inigo Montoya Theory -- "you keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means."
2. The Chandler Bing Theory -- "could you be any more wrong?!"

In any case, I've been trying to use my outside voice as much as possible today.

Earlier: Exhibit B.:
d: think about how much time you spend with your coworkers and how little they actually know you
d: i find that interesting
rose: very true. they think I am quiet, for example.
rose: for another example, they think I am doing work right now
d: ha!
rose: or at all, ever

like, i don't sound like that?

2006-03-22T13:41:00.000-05:00

Yay, it's not just me -- apparently someone else has noticed that girls with That Accent are annoying. Not just the girls -- because they do suck -- but I mean, the Accent itself is annoying. First, I should remind you that I am a girl. Moreover, I am a girl who grew up on Long Island. And yet...yet...I do not talk like That.

In case you have not clicked the link, let me explain what That means. Someone who talks like That says every sentence as if it were a question. Example: "So my dad? Lent me his Black Card? And I maxed it out?" Also, someone who talks like That eloooooongates vowels for no reason. Sticking with that classic example: "So my daaaaaaaaaaaad? Lent me his Blaaaaaaaaahck Card? And I maaaaaaaahxed it oooooouuut?" Finally, a girl (it's always a girl -- usually in her twenties) who talks like That is apparently part snake, as her esses (and soft cees) go on for aaaaaaaaaages. Again, the example: "Ssssssssssssso my daaaaaaaaaad? Lent me hisssssssssss Blaaaaaaaahck Card? And I maaaaaaaahhxxxxxssssssed it ooooooooout?"

Tell me that's not annoying. Really.

What also irks me is that people often associate That Accent with native Long-Islanders. It's true that I know lots of people who speak like That who are from Laaaaaahn Guyyyyyyland? But. Plenty of That-speakers are from other NYC suburbs (I'm looking at you, Westchester), not to mention NYC proper, the tri-state area, and, as the brilliant article notes, throughout the entire Northeast. So. Um, kind of lost my momentum for a second...but yeah, leave Long Island alone!

Oh, and the subject of this post is not being said by me (although it is true). It's really what I imagine someone who talks like That saying after reading the article. Because, for some reason, people who talk like That cannot fathom that they possibly could ever talk like That. Oh, and of course, it should be pronounced "liiiiiiiiike, Iiiiiiiii don't ssssssssssssoooooooound liiiiiiiike thaaaaaaaaaht?"

you've gotta give for what you take

2006-03-01T15:33:00.000-05:00

So, a new study reveals that only one in four Americans can name more than one of the five freedoms guaranteed by the First Amendment...but more than half can name at least two members of the Simpsons (we're talking the cartoon, not the former Newlyweds). This is disturbing, true, but not that surprising. However, the most ridiculous result of the study -- to me, anyway -- is buried in the text. Apparently, one in five people thought the right to own a pet was protected by the First Amendment. I'm sorry, what?! Twenty percent of our fellow Americans believe that our Founding Fathers were concerned with life, liberty, the pursuit of happiness, and the ability to own an iguana? (Granted, these same people re-elected Bush, so their intelligence is already in question...but I digress).

It got me wondering, though -- what other rights might these fine citizens deem worthy of our most sacred Constitutional protection? Here are some thoughts:
-- the right to have cable TV
-- the right to cross at a red light when no cars are coming
-- freedom of sports-team affiliation
-- the right to own slaves (too far? sorry.)
-- the right to put one's elderly parents in a nursing home
-- the right to talk back to movie screens (under the auspices of "freedom of speech," of course)
-- the right to take these lies and make them true (somehow)

not that there's anything wrong with that

2006-02-23T18:10:00.000-05:00

This amused me.

A Gay Cowboy's Top 10 Movies of 2005.
BY PATRICK T. HEWLETT
- - - -
1. Brokeback Mountain
2. Brokeback Mountain
3. Brokeback Mountain
4. Brokeback Mountain
5. Brokeback Mountain
6. Brokeback Mountain
7. Rent
8. Brokeback Mountain
9. Brokeback Mountain
10. Brokeback Mountain

From McSweeneys (naturally).

how rude! (this post is not about jodie sweetin)

2006-02-21T14:06:00.000-05:00

So I don't usually use this forum as a place to bitch about my job. First, because I don't want to get dooced. Second, because the whole point of this little corner of the internet is a means of escape from the monotony of the jobby-job (get it? a way out? get it?). Third, because my readership consists mostly of people who know me, and they most likely get to hear me bitch in the flesh. And fourth, because I bore myself talking about it.

But a travesty has been committed by my superiors, and I can stay silent no longer. No, I'm not talking about how they contacted me this past Sunday evening (yes, on the holiday weekend) and ordered me to come in yesterday (Presidents' Day be damned!). No, I'm not talking about the fact that the work I was tasked with -- and completed -- yesterday, will not even be looked at until late tonight (making my day here yesterday a complete waste of my time). And I'm not even talking about the fact that the office was opened on the day after Christmas and the day after New Year's, as both holidays occurred over the weekend. It is much more nefarious, my friends.

The new project upon which I am working is to be turned in on Monday, March 6. This means I will be forced to work on the preceding weekend. Do you see where I'm going here, folks? The OSCARS! The OSCARS! The OSCARS! The Superbowl for movie fans, most women, and pop culture freaks. I am a member of all three of those categories. I will spare you from the self-referential linkage, but I encourage you to scour the archives of the early part of 2005, and you will be reminded of my devotion to the award show season.

This makes me want to start a union! Or kill Arab terrorists! Or kiss a cowboy! Or engage in everyday activities and painstakingly identify the latent racial and socioeconomic implications thereof! You get the idea. (I fully realize these references are both overinclusive and underinclusive with respect to the nominees for Best Picture).

Thank God for my boyfriend, TiVo (re: DVR).

P.S. I rather enjoyed this.

no business like show business

2006-01-31T22:05:00.000-05:00

So last night, I saw a show with the most impressive lineup of stars that I have ever seen. It’s the 50th anniversary of the Public Theater, and the celebratory show was called -- The Public Sings! Not surprisingly, it involved lots of people singing, all of whom had performed with the Public Theater in the past. However, not all of them were necessarily trained singers, so at parts, it seemed a bit like a big karaoke party. But those who weren’t the musical theater professionals still provided much entertainment and certainly looked like they had a great time doing it.

So, here’s all of the productions that have been housed at the Public through the years. If you're lazy and/or link-averse, I'll tell you some: A Chorus Line, Bring in Da Noise/Bring in Da Funk, Hair, Threepenny Opera, Pirates of Penzance, Caroline, or Change, The Wild Party, and See What I Wanna See.

Performers from the musical theater world included: Betty Buckley, Norm Lewis, Cheyenne Jackson, Idina Menzel, Billy Porter, Chuck Cooper, Daphne Rubin-Vega, Destan Owens, Lea Delaria, Donna Murphy, Marc Kudisch, Jesse Tyler Ferguson, George Wolfe (!), Lillias White, Eartha Kitt, Adriane Lenox and Mary Testa.

The earnest-but-maybe-not-quite-musically-inclined crew included: Zach Braff, Rosie Perez, Natalie Portman, Cynthia Nixon, Ben Stiller, and Mike Nichols. Braff, Perez and Stiller embraced their we-don’t-sing-ness and sang “Sing” from A Chorus Line with Menzel and Lewis. Zach Braff is hilarious and adorable. Portman did a sweet and knowingly-goofy rendition of “Frank Mills” from Hair, and then she and Braff joined forces for Hair’s “Initials.” They definitely seemed to be enjoying themselves, and the audience fed off of that. A dress rehearsal pic:

Cynthia Nixon took the same approach and presented a crowd-pleasing version of “Dance 10, Looks 3” from A Chorus Line -- even though she’s not much of a singer – by dancing, emoting, and trying her hardest.

The entire cast was amazing, and it’s always fun to see so many performers on one stage. I was especially psyched, however, to see two legends, hell, to breathe the same air as them. First, the legendary Elaine Stritch sang her opening and closing number from Elaine Stritch at Liberty (noting, “if you want to hear what’s in between, it’ll cost you.”). She mentioned that she waited 49 years to win her Tony, and it’s kind of crazy that she’s still active in “the business”…and wearing tights on stage.

The other almost other-worldly performance was that done by Meryl Streep. The crowd went crazy as soon as she appeared on stage. I mean, she could have played a kazoo and everyone would have eaten it up. However, she was in solid voice, hitting every note, and hitting it well. Of course, she found the time to be hilarious, since she was singing “Sodomy” from Hair. Who else could sing “cunnilingus” (welcome to my blog, pervs!) with such flair? Later on, she and Mike Nichols closed the show with a sweet song from On the Town, but this first performance of hers was truly a show-stopper.

Fittingly, at the conclusion of the show, a small tribute was made to Wendy Wasserstein, and a number of the performers were visibly moved.

It truly was a special and historical night, and I feel lucky to have seen it. By the way, there were a number of celebrities (they’re just like us!) taking in the show. I saw: Philip Seymour Hoffman, Sam Rockwell, Richard Kind, Carol Kane and David Wain.

(Scheduled sarcasm and cynicism will resume shortly.)

it's not stealing, it's borrowing.

2006-01-26T10:03:00.000-05:00

So the WB and UPN are joining forces to become one super mega 5th place network, CW. I was going to write something clever about show crossover possibilities, but this guy beat me to it. I guess that happens when you wait three days to report on "breaking" news. I will say, that I find "cee double you" rather cumbersome to say, so, heretofore, I will be referring to it at "cee dubs." I encourage you to do the same.

Also, The Black Table, a site that has provided me with hours of procrastination when I should be doing my job, is closing down shop. The Yankee Potroast has, fittingly, roasted the table. Check it out. Although, if you never read the Black Table, you might not get any of the jokes, so you should peruse the archives there for a while first.

And finally, that Kelly Clarkson song, Because of You, woke me up this morning, so it's stuck in my head. And, as it doesnt' show any signs of leaving the premises, I have been thinking about it. If you're not familiar with the song, here's the deal. Basically, the singer has some daddy issues and is blaming her father for her unability to trust men, fall in love, etc. So I thought, wouldn't it be great if she blamed her parents for all of her emotional baggage? Here are some ideas I'm toying with. Oh, and this will probably only amuse me, but I don't care.

Because of you
I'll be obese when I'm thirty
Because of you
I think all sexual acts are dirty
Because of you
I cross the street
When someone with dark skin crosses my path
Because of you
I'm quite screwed up

i pity the fool

2006-01-18T15:48:00.000-05:00

depressing sight i saw on the subway this morning:

a man.

with a very fake tan.

wearing a suit.

featuring skinny pants.

with a haircut that was way more mohawk than fauxhawk.

like with tall spikes and such.

which were very much made up of gray hair.

so. to him i say, with all due respect...

you are not a punk rocker. you will never be a punk rocker. please, for the love of God, get a haircut.
you look ridiculous.
the strangers who are smiling at you are not doing so out of approval for how hard core you are. they are laughing at you.
oh, and while you're on it, lay off on the mystic tan for a while. you make charlize theron look like an albino.

here's what he probably looked like 50 years ago:

here comes the motherf$&%ing bride

2006-01-13T13:56:00.000-05:00

Every now and again, the Hollywood machine produces a heartwarming tale of love and devotion. No, not them. I speak of a love that crosses the sands of time, that between Marshall and Kim Mathers. Yes, the king of Detroit rap has decided to travel down the path to holy matrimony...again. I'm sure you all remember the first marriage between Eminem and Kim -- it was tender and loving. And poet laureate that he is, dear Em would often pen sweet little love notes to his wife, which he then shared with the world. I humbly offer, in chronological order, some of the highlights:

'97 Bonnie and Clyde -- Em discusses Kim's charming idiosyncracies
Oh where's mama? She's takin a little nap in the trunk
Oh that smell (whew!) da-da musta runned over a skunk
Now I know what you're thinkin - it's kind of late to go swimmin
But you know your mama, she's one of those type of women
that do crazy things, and if she don't get her way, she'll throw a fit
........
And mama said she wants to show how far she can float
And don't worry about that little boo-boo on her throat
It's just a little scratch - it don't hurt, her was eatin
dinner while you were sweepin and spilled ketchup on her shirt
Mama's messy isn't she? We'll let her wash off in the water
and me and you can pway by ourselves, can't we?

Kim -- After Kim rejects him, Em expresses his feelings of loss and takes action
Bullshit you bitch don't fucking lie to me
What the fuck's this guy's problem on the side of me?
Fuck you asshole, yeah bite me
Kim, KIM!
Why don't you like me?
You think I'm ugly don't you
No you think I'm ugly
Get the fuck away from me, don't touch me
I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU!
I SWEAR TO GOD I HATE YOU
OH MY GOD I LOVE YOU
......
You can't run from me Kim
It's just us, nobody else!
You're only making this harder on yourself
Ha! Ha! Got'cha!
Ha! Go ahead yell!
Here I'll scream with you!
AH SOMEBODY HELP!
Don't you get it bitch, no one can hear you?
Now shut the fuck up and get what's comin to you
You were supposed to love me
NOW BLEED! BITCH BLEED!
BLEED! BITCH BLEED!
BLEED!

Hailie's Song -- Em tells his darling daughter about the depth of his love for her mother
I've went to jail for this woman, I've been to bat for this woman
I've taken bats to peoples backs, bent over backwards for this woman
Man, I shoulda seen it comin', why'd I stick my penis up in?
Woulda ripped the pre-nup up if I'd seen what she was fuckin'

I Love You More -- Em concludes that he and Kim are engaged in a psychological battle wherein they express their deep-seeded love through hateful and violent acts
The more you, put me through,
The more it makes me wanna come back to you,
You say you hate me,
I just love you more,
You don't want me, I just want you more,
I buy you flowers, you throw 'em at me,
I know it's sad but it's makin me happy,
The more that you slap me, the more that it turns me on,
Cuz you love me, and I love you more.
...............
We say we do it for our baby but we don't,
We do it for us, it's lust,
Cuz neither one of us trusts each other,
So we fuck 'til we bust,
Then we cuss each other out,
We know what it's about,
Shout 'til I throw you out the house,
You throw me out the house,
I throw you on the couch,
Punch you in the mouth,
Fist fight 'til we turn this mother OUT,
................
Cuz I hate you, do you hate me?
Good cuz you're so fuckin' beautiful when you're angry,
It makes me wanna just take you,
And just throw you on the bed,
And fuck you like I don't even know you,
.......................
So it's off and on, usually more off than on,
But at least we know that we share this common bond,
You're the only one I can fuck without a condom on,
I hope, the only reason that I cope,
Is cuz of that fact,
And plus I can bust in that,

Puke -- Em describes the physiological reaction he has when he reminisces about the love of his life
You don't know how sick you make me
You make me fuckin' sick to my stomach
Every time I think of you, I puke
You must just not know--whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa
You may not think you do, but you do
Every time I think of you I puke
................
I knew I shouldn't go and get another tattoo of you
On my arm, but what do I go and do
I go and get another one, now I got two
Ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh
I'm sittin' here with your name on my skin
I can't believe I went and did this stupid shit again
My next girlfriend, now her name's gotta be Kim
Shi-ii-ii-ii-ii-ii-it
If you only knew how much I hated you
For every motherfuckin' thing you ever put us through
Then I wouldn't be standing here crying over you
Boo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-who
..........
You're a fuckin' coke-head slut, I hope you fuckin' die
I hope you get to hell and Satan sticks a needle in your eye
I hate your fuckin' guts, you fuckin' slut, I hope you die
Di-ii-ii-ii-ii-ii-ie
But please don't get me wrong, I'm not bitter or mad
It's not that I still love you, it's not 'cause I want you back
It's just that when I think of you, it makes me wanna
Gag-aa-aa-aa-aa-aa-aa-ag

Crazy In Love -- See "I Love You More," supra
Can't you see what you do to me baby?
You make me crazy, you make me act like a maniac.
I'm like a lunatic, you make me sick
You truly are the only one who can do this to me
You just make me get so crazy.
I go schizo, I get so insane I just go schizophrenic
One minute I want to slit your throat
The next I want to sex.
.............
What's sad is what's attracting us to each other
They say that every man grows up to marry his own mother.
Which would explain why you're such a motherfucking bitch
But I stay and still stick it out with you even though I just hit you today
But you deserve it you hit me first and provoked me to choke you
Just cuz I came home late last night crawled in bed and I woke you.

If that's not love, I don't know what is. So let me be the first to wish these star-crossed lovebirds all the best!

a's favorite things (no raindrops on roses)

2006-01-10T09:53:00.000-05:00

So apparently I've become Beth from Little Women. No, I haven't softened my crotchety neighbor's heart by playing the piano, and no, I haven't developed a martyr complex, but lately, I am sick all the freaking time. (I also have a deep-seeded fear of change, but that's another story.) So, I'm going with the lazy-man's mode of blogging, linkage galore. (a, these are all for you).

The first break-up of the new year appears to be Hilary and Chad. But let us look back on happier times.

Is James Frey really a Big Fat Liar?

Even if you're not Google certified, you might like this.

Not so sweet -- a look at the Splenda conspiracy.

This is far from heinous.

Some quality music.

Finally,

No elaboration necessary.

publicists hate thesauri

2006-01-03T10:39:00.000-05:00

In the midst of all the holiday madness, I have neglected to mention the breakup of Mike Myers and Linda Richman's daughter. The Gawker Stalker Conspiracy Theory is certainly well-documented, but has anyone noticed Myers' subtle attempt to regain his A-list status? How? By employing the old standby -- that he and his wife will "remain caring and committed friends." Now, where have we heard that before?

In related news, Courteney shows what it means to be a caring and committed friend, and employs the old "hos before bros" principle.

oh and here's to you, k.

2006-01-02T14:09:00.000-05:00

(apologies to everyone who isn't k. but hey, even though it's not specifically directed at you, you all might still like it. anyway.)

From OverheardInNY:

What's Your Resolution, New York?
Girl #1: Remember when we would go out, make up stories and fake names?
Girl #2: Yeah, that was fun.
Girl #1: We really need to lie more.
--6 train

should auld acquaintance something something

2006-01-02T11:51:00.000-05:00

So, I think that I might have officially kept a New Year's resolution for an entire year. After all, it is 2006 and I'm still writing this thing, albeit sporadically. But I'm here, damnit, so that counts. I actually didn't make any resolutions this year -- not because I'm without flaws, but because (as I told someone yesterday), I've been too busy and self-involved to have the time to be self-reflective. I'll come up with something. Eventually. Maybe a resolution to stop procrastinating would be appropriate.

Anyway, here's why Larry David isn't going to see Brokeback Mountain. I saw it the day after I saw Casanova, which made Heath Ledger's performance in Brokeback all the more impressive. In addition to the highlighting the physical differences in the characters -- the hairstyle, the accent, the tone of his voice -- the juxtaposition of these two roles showcased Ledger's ability to play both a lighthearted comedic lothario and a deeply troubled and conflicted blue-collar worker. None of this, of course, should detract from his cover of "Can't Take My Eyes Off You" in Ten Things I Hate About You, the timeless cinematic masterpiece. Because, really, Brokeback was great and all -- but where was Joseph Gordon-Levitt?

When you think of garbage, think of Akeem. And when you think of prostitutes, think of New Jersey.

The first secrets of the new year.

the bus stops here

2005-12-08T15:56:00.000-05:00

So, today outside my office, I was greeted by this:

I wondered --what was this strange vehicle. And why were there half-naked women parading around inside? Well, a quick Internet search told me that I had been blessed by the presence of the Mexico Promo Bus. Or, in Espanol, Promobus. The sponsors of this campaign? Why, the fair country of Mexico herself. Not only that, but the Promobus innovation and the Mexico Tourism Board have recently been awarded gold performance by the Iberian American Advertising Festival (FIAP)...whatever the hell that means.

Then again, it appears that the Mexico Tourism Board is really working overtime to attract tourists. Its press room boasts quotes from notables such as Kelly Preston and Krusty the Clown, singing the praises of the nation. (By the way, Ms. Preston said, "My highlight was watching Oprah doing tequila shots," and Mr. Clown said, "Kids, we're going to the happiest place on earth -- Tijuana, Mexico!"). Ah yes, President Vicente Fox should be proud to run that country.

To see if the Promobus will be coming to a city near you (and for some more pictures), check out their itinerary here. Oh, and for the record, seeing all those happy people cavort around in a tropical bus really didn't inspire me to book a trip to Mexico. But I would like to get on the bus. If those people are fine in bikinis, I know it's way warmer than my apartment. If only they could put a couch and a TV in the Promobus...now, that would be paradise.

search party

2005-11-30T10:05:00.000-05:00

Most of the people reading this right now know me. This is because: (1) I write this anonymously by design; (2) I don't make any attempt to publicize this or lure in new readers; and (3) nothing I write here is inherently captivating or groundbreaking, so you really have to like me to want to read it. That said, every now and again, some random people land here, and some of them even stay. To you I say - welcome! But I wondered, what brought them to this tiny island in the sea of sites in the first place. Thanks to my handy site-meter, I know exactly how they got here. And now, I will share with you just what people were searching for (within the past few weeks or so) when they happened upon this here site.

- bat cola commercial
- oprah and jamie foxx
- vaughniston
- alexander payne cheated
- eva longoria i was licking jelly
- kelly ripa tide commercial
- most boring award shows
- million dollar baby cover movie
- live in murray hill
- hilary swank humble sweet
- lauren graham new york november 2005 sweeps 2002 sweet pacifier santa
- will forte the falconer quotes

I'm still waiting for someone to search for teddy bears in kimonos. In the meantime, I might as well set the bait for some new patrons. Here goes: jessica simpson nick lachey divorce alias cancelled justice scalito peter braunstein rapist harry potter goblet of fire britney spears baby picture free heroin bea arthur nude.

Cool, that should do it.

indian fall

2005-11-29T09:47:00.001-05:00

Ok, so Thanksgiving's over, the Christmas wreaths have made their appearances on the Waldorf and in office buildings throughout the city, and it's a brisk...65 degrees outside?! What the heck is going on? Maybe dear Rosalita was correct to be so concerned about the global warming situation. And maybe we should all follow Leonardo's lead and buy hybrid cars. I'm just saying, it's very jarring.

Anyway, so the past week has been nice and relaxing. Well, first it was inSANE, because last Tuesday (has it already been a week?), I went to the Ziegfeld for the midnight showing of Rent. As if the Rentheads 2.0 weren't crazy enough, clapping at the freaking previews and such, they went absolutely apeshit when, five minutes before the movie starts, cast members Anthony Rapp and Tracie Thoms showed up for the viewing. It was a full-circle kind of moment -- I went with some high school friends with whom I had sung the entire score and slept outside the Nederlander for tickets to the show nearly ten years ago. Our disdain for the youngins faded as the lights dimmed (and thankfully, nobody sang along), and we were whisked away to the exotic land of the East Village. Of course, some moments from the show had to be cut in order to streamline the story and make it more palpable for the masses, but the underlying themes were left untouched. And sure, we giggled when Adam Pascal sang on a mountain top, but we also nodded knowingly when he executed his trademark deep knee bend whilst singing. All told, a very enjoyable experience. And, I didn't have to wait 525,600 minutes to see it again -- on Thanksgiving Day, I went with the family. Happy Thanksgiving, bitches!

The rest of the weekend was filled with food, family and frelaxing. And then, it was back to the daily races. But really, Christmas songs on the radio and nobody's wearing jackets?

overheard on IM

2005-11-10T17:50:00.000-05:00

Touche'
(d= me; f = friend)

d: when's the last time you wrote a 10 page paper in a day?
d: btw, i'm not saying that to brag
d: i feel sorry for myself
f: i think ive written more in 24 hours, on a lot of uppers in college
f: im not saying that to brag either

Take that, overheard in NY (and overheard in the office)!

In semi-related news, go read A Million Little Pieces. I've been meaning to post my thoughts about it, but I've been quite busy. Sorry.

Oh, and sure, it's an Oprah book (for some unknown reason), but I have faith that you can overcome that hurdle. It's worth it. I couldn't help laughing at this exchange from last week's Family Guy:

(Stewie is reading East of Eden)
Brian: East of Eden? So you pretty much do whatever Oprah tells you to, huh?
Stewie: You know, this book's been around for 50 years. It's a classic.
Brian: But you just got it last week, and there's a giant "Oprah" sticker on the front.
Stewie: Oh, oh, is that what that is? Let me just peel that right off.
Brian: So what are you gonna read after that one?
Stewie: Well, she hasn't told us... DAMN!

525,600 minutes...but how many were billable?

2005-11-01T10:38:00.000-05:00

So, today is my one year anniversary at this job. A year that could very well be measured in daylights, sunsets, midnights, or cups of coffee. (For the record, I have been at the office during daylight [obviously], most sunsets, and a fair number of midnights). A lot has changed since November 1, 2004 -- for example, on my first day, I was at my desk, ready to go at 8:40. Today, it was more like 9:20. (Shh, don't tell). I moved to a new apartment, my company moved to a new office, and Alias moved to Thursdays. And in world news, this year saw the end of Brad & Jen and the rise of Brangelina, and now Vaughniston (I still have my doubts).

Some other points of interest:

OddTodd is still unemployed (sort of), and here's his new Halloween cartoon.

Now that I've beefed up my resume, perhaps it's time to send it here.

And here's the New York magazine profile on Idina Menzel, just because. (Look, if you need it to fit with the overarching themes: (1) she starred in Rent, which is the source of the title of this post; (2) she played a witch, a popular Halloween costume; and (3) she has a new job at the Public Theater in See What I Wanna See -- go see it!)

sarah is magic

2005-10-19T11:55:00.000-04:00

I've been a fan of Sarah Silverman since her days on SNL.

She's irreverent and fearless -- and freaking hilarious. A few years back, I saw her Off-Broadway show, Jesus is Magic, which is coming soon to a theater near you. Yay. Anyway, The New Yorker just published this profile of the comic which sheds some light on her persona. Also, she plays poker.

Here are some of her gems (as printed at sportshollywood) :

"A couple nights ago, I was licking jelly off my boyfriend's penis . . . and I thought, Oh, my God--I'm turning into my mother!"

"So I live in this apartment that's disgusting--it's really dirty. And the kitchen floor is, like, sticky. And I had to do something about it. So finally I went out and bought some, uh, slippers."

"I'm suing my boss for sexual harrassment ... and it's real hard, and a big strain on me ... because he hasn't done anything."

"I'm going out with a guy who's half-black, who's totally going to break my heart......Oh my God. I can't believe I said that. I'm so negative. He's half-white."

she DOES exist.

2005-10-18T15:14:00.000-04:00

Ok, so I've been MIA for a while, and I really have no excuse. Just haven't had the urge, and for that, loyal reader(s?), I apologize. It would be impossible to catch up on all of the celebrity nonsense: Kate Moss is a coke fiend; Nick and Jessica have (maybe) called it quits (via jossip); Tom and Katie are (allegedly) expecting a teeny tiny Thetan and are planning a wedding; Demi and Ashton got married; and Mary-Kate dropped out of NYU.

Hmm. I guess it is possible.

And now, some academic news: a little grammar lesson regarding holidays; college kids apparently drink a lot (p.s. check out my comment); and Harriet Miers thinks banning abortion is awesome.

Speaking of Harriet Miers, tell me they're not separated at birth:

(Thanks, tvgasm).

Ah, it's good to be back.

i'll dress you up in my love

2005-10-03T15:24:00.000-04:00

Much like Monica Geller, I find animals dressed as humans to be extremely distasteful. (The bee dogs are a different story, of course, as they are dogs dressed as bees, not people. Plus, I found the whole concept of a website devoted to beedogs to be particularly fascinating).

Anyway, as it is now October and the Christmas decorations have already begun appearing in stores, it's time to start thinking about a Halloween costume. A preliminary search unearthed this site that features Halloween costumes...for dogs. So enjoy, and shop if necessary (I'm looking at you, JM).

And anyone have any costume ideas for me?

it's friday y'all

2005-09-23T13:29:00.000-04:00

After weighing some options like London, Vegas, Kissimmee, Chattahoochie, Justin Jr., Cheetos, Redbull, Bkreivtinney, Bubba, etc., the Spederlines have settled on a name for their bouncing baby boy -- Sean Preston.

Apparently, I am not the only one who thinks that Lauren Graham should be way more famous and win way more awards than she currently does. (So there, previous commenter).

Like I said, it's Friday. I got nuthin else to give.

don't worry, i'm not becoming a political blog

2005-09-21T12:36:00.000-04:00

Hail to the Chief...

Unqualified Successes of George W. Bush's Terms in Office (So Far)

W's Words of Wisdom

posting pictures for dummies

2005-09-20T16:10:00.000-04:00

For some reason, I can't make these show up on that last post, but I did want to share my newfound skill (kinda). We'll see if I continue these adventures in the future.

Emmy

Kristen Bell performing "Fame"

Devil aka Star Jones

and the award for most boring award show goes to...

2005-09-20T15:48:00.000-04:00

I had intended to write some Emmy post-mortem, as I am wont to do about award shows. But I have to say, the whole thing was kind of...eh.

I know, it kills me to say such a thing about an award show, particularly one that deals with my favorite medium, the television. But Tony Shaloub? Doris Roberts? Brad Garrett? The Emmys were their same old boring wolf self dressed in some "aren't we hip" sheep's clothing. Sure, we'll nominate Arrested Development and Scrubs - but they ain't winning. The only redeeming things about the "big" awards were Felicity Huffman for Desperate Housewives and Lost winning best drama. Not that only new shows should win -- don't get me wrong, I love me some Six Feet Under and sometimes even Will & Grace (I'm sorry, I can't help it). But since when does a PBS Masterpiece Theater special about a prince or something beat out an HBO movie? Apparently Empire Falls wasn't the second coming of Angels in America. Well, there's always the Golden Globes.

And Ellen. Oh, Ellen. Ellen just kind of fell flat. Sure, the whole "you're really a loser if you lose" spiel was amusing, and the first time she tried to annoy the keeping-on-time-guy by asking him where he's from was clever, but dragging out the unicycle and the sparkler and the dummy and the blah blah blah blah blah. And believe you me, I'm not an Ellen hater by any means. I watch her show. I have her 1996 CD, This Tastes Funny. Hell, I even saw Mr. Wrong. In the theater. Seriously. (Have I said too much?)

Now, I'm not blaming Ellen entirely. It's gotta be the writers. (What does it say about the pre-award banter that the only line generating a laugh was Felicity Huffman's ad-libbed "Clunk" when Eva Longoria failed to sell her lame-o joke). But honestly, all that stuff before awards is stupid and useless anyway:

CBS Star #1 -- Hey #2, did you have a layover when you flew out here for the Emmys?
CBS Star #2 -- Nope, I was on a direct flight.
CBS Star #1 -- Well, speaking of direct, here are the nominees for the best direction of a variety or comedy show.

[Side note -- when was the last time there was a variety show on television? Nick and Jessica's Christmas Fiasco is excepted, because it was less like entertainment and more like torture. But I believe that Laugh-In was cancelled quite some time ago. And the Osmonds, the Bradys, and Sonny and Cher aren't exactly lighting up the airwaves these days either.]

And thank God for my DVR. I had the power to fast forward through any part of the red carpet stuff that showed She-Devil Star Jones. Why won't they let Kathy Griffin talk to the celebrities? Sure, she might offend them or something, but at least it would be funny and entertaining. And I'm sure they'd enjoy the feeling of wanting to kill Kathy post-interview than the feeling of wanting to kill themselves post-interview with Star.

Well look at that. I guess I wrote an Emmy wrap-up after all. Granted, an extremely whiny one. But I'm still bitter that Lauren Graham got snubbed. And that Kristen Bell lost Emmy Idol.

life is good

2005-09-12T14:20:00.000-04:00

Notwithstanding the Hurricane Katrina aftermath, the anniversary of 9/11, and the possibility of John Roberts on the Supreme Court, things are good. The weather is still beautiful in New York, Agassi made it to the U.S. Open finals at 35 (although he lost to Federer), and someone created this webpage. (Thanks, Rose).

Yeah, that's pretty much all I've got for today. Your regularly scheduled cynicism and sarcasm will return shortly.

some things i like

2005-09-09T00:10:00.000-04:00

1. Stevie Wonder songs.
2. Playing poker.
3. Diet Coke.
4. Harry Potter and lovingly mocking Jesus (together at last!)
5. That new show Reunion.
6. Epic tennis matches (even though it's old news at this point)
7. Being lazy. Yay Friday!

tuesday night music club

2005-09-07T11:09:00.000-04:00

Ok, so I'm feeling kind of weird today. Specifically, kind of deaf. See, last night, I went to the Coldplay concert at MSG. And DAMN did it rock. It even rawked. (Look, I'm so kewl). Anyway, here are some of the highlights:

Unbeknownst to me, my concert companions upgraded my tickets to the utmost. To wit, we had floor seats. In the THIRD row. Never in my life have I had such ridiculous seats at any concert, let alone at Madison Square Garden. No need to look at the jumbotron because the band was like right the fuck in front of me. Awesome. Unfortunately, I now know that I will have to henceforth use my disposable income to purchase floor seats and concerts because now that I have seen the beauty of the front, I shall never return to the middle-class mezzanine. And nosebleed seats? Hell, do I look like an untouchable to you? P.S. Did you know that they serve freaking Champagne with strawberries to the First Class Floor People? Absurd.
The opening band was Rilo Kiley, which, as I mentioned in an earlier post (I'm too lazy to link to it - it was in July I think?), is my favorite discovery of the summer. My insta-obsession was put to good use, because I was able to dance and sing along (yes, I was one of those people) to the entire set. And, since I was in the THIRD row, the band totally saw me and acknowledged my presence, which made my inner teenybopper euphoric. It was their first time playing at MSG and they were totally psyched about it. Yay.
Coldplay really was amazing. I had anticipated a mellow set, as their songs are kind of on the mellow side, but this was SO not the case. Chris Martin turned out to be quite the energetic entertainer, talking to the crowd, traversing the stage constantly, sharing some self-deprecating banter. I had always perceived him as the reluctant frontman, but he revealed a dynamic personality and an impressive stage presence. Aside from his omnipresent taped fingers and decorated hands, and a passing mention of the New Orleans situation, he did not bring his political views into the concert. In fact, he introduced "Everything's Not Lost" as a "cheer up and don't be sad that the summer is over" song, when it easily could have been about the victims of Hurricane Katrina. So yeah, the night was all about the music and performing. They played songs from all of their albums, performed a small tribute to Johnny Cash, and used some cool special effects - a light show, a huge screen that showed various angles of the band and the audience (and other song-appropriate images) in vivid colors and patterns, huge yellow balloons filled with yellow confetti that cascaded from the ceiling during "Yellow" (duh!), and Chris Martin even ran into the center of the crowd at which point...
I touched a rock star! See, he ran down the aisle next to me in order to sing ("In My Place") from the middle of the floor. So, on his return trip back up the aisle, my initial reaction was to take a picture with my camera phone. But, I don't know what got into me, and again, that inner teenybopper took over, so as he ran back up the aisle (escorted by security guards of course), I leaned over and touched his shoulder. It was silly, I know. But now, I'm like three degrees away from Kevin Bacon. (Chris Martin is married to Gwyneth Paltrow who was in Seven with Brad Pitt who was in Sleepers with Kevin Bacon).
And finally, I had a wee adventure. This guy in the row in front of me was like majorly fucked up. I don't know what kind of pot he was smoking, but he was like the OPPOSITE of mellow and pleasantly stoned. He was shouting random inappropriate things constantly, and being rather annoying in general. For example, during a quiet part of the set, Chris Martin told an anecdote about being at the VMAs in Miami last week and how their ego was bruised when Paris Hilton didn't know who Coldplay was. So the crowd starts booing Paris a bit, and Chris is like "No, don't boo her. We're ok, really!" And the asshole in front of me starts woofing, old-school Arsenio style. No, more than that - like full out barking, you know, like from Coming to America when Akeem's like "Bark like a dog. A big dog" to his betrothed? But I digress. Anyway, I shot him some dirty looks and he turned to me and shouted, "Paris Hilton is a dog! Woof woof woof woof...." etc. Good times. A bit later, he knocked his food and garbage onto me and my belongings, knocking over my soda in the process. I put my bag on my chair and his stupid french fries and ketchup on his chair. But then, after he lit his 86th joint of the night, he decided he wasn't interested in it and threw it (or maybe he dropped it, or didn't even know he was holding it) and it hit me on my hand. I unleashed a series of obscentities and then noticed that the offending joint was now resting on my bag. So, I did what any redblooded American (with an impulse-control problem) would do, and I picked up the joint and snuffed it out...on the back of his shirt. He didn't even appear to notice, but I felt quite self-satisfied. At that point, the security people noticed his abrasive behavior (perhaps in part to the meaningful head nods and sideward glances executed by one of my concertgoing companions), and he was kicked out of the concert! Ah, sweet vindication. I enjoyed the rest of the musical stylings of Coldplay without interruption.

So yeah, in conclusion, it was one of the best concerts I've ever seen. I'm still feeling the post-concert buzz, or maybe that's just the buzzing in my ears. Yay Coldplay!

august and everything after

2005-09-02T14:36:00.000-04:00

Translation: I can't believe it's September already. Not that I really had a summer, but I've noticed that the days are already getting shorter, and I fear that beach season is coming to a close. The real nail in the coffin, of course, is those annoying "back to school" ads. While Old Navy has finally come up with a marketing campaign that doesn't entirely grate the nerves (school, personified by a locker, a desk, etc., takes on the role of villain in a horror movie cliche), Target has unleashed a commercial that is both controversial and annoying. I mean, Sir Mix-a-Lot must have gotten some royalties or something from the shout out in Friends -- is this Target thing really necessary? Really?

Oh, but one great thing about the end of the summer in New York, is, of court, the U.S. Open. Yay! I went last night and I'm going again next week. And it's really hard not to laugh at all of those American Express ads with Andy Roddick's face plastered on them proclaiming some nonsense about his "mojo" -- you know, since he lost in the first round and all. Hey, look how I wrapped this entry up in a neat little bow by writing about another ad campaign.

And, despite my cynical rant about fundraising in the wake of natural disasters, please check out the Red Cross website to see how you can help the Hurricane Katrina survivors.

Finally, here is a picture of a dog in a tutu.

and you thought the amish towns had weird names?

2005-08-29T09:36:00.000-04:00

You can't just rush right in to this village. You have to work your way up to it. At least pay for dinner. Oh, those fucking Austrians.

UPDATE: Here is some evidence about the existence of this wee town, bearing in mind that the source is not always entirely accurate.

and on the eighth day, he created rigatoni a la vodka

2005-08-24T11:52:00.000-04:00

Um. This is amazing and hilarious. At the least, it makes as much sense as Scientology.

i am a domestic goddess

2005-08-23T12:58:00.000-04:00

So, on Sunday, I returned home from a night out, kicked off my shoes and immediately noticed that my little area rug in the foyer was soaking wet. It's never good to feel something wet under your bare feet when you're not expecting it, but at least it was in my home and not on, say, a public street. Anyway, my first instinct was to look up, as I feared that my ceiling had a leak and I would be able to see my upstairs neighbor looking down at me, laughing maniacally in a rocking chair, rubbing his/her hands together. But no. No holes in the ceiling. Hmm. So I tried to determine the source of this mysterious liquid, which I was pretty sure was water because it was colorless, and also I tasted it. (Ok, not really). I stepped into my kitchen and gasped, because it looked like this. (Ok, not quite). But it was really, really, really soapy.

I conjure two potential hypotheses: (1) I have fallen into an episode of The Brady Bunch; or (2) I am a complete moron. Any guesses?

Yeah, so here's what happened: I had run out of my dishwashing detergent and figured I could just use the antibacterial soap stuff that I use for my pots and pans. Funny thing about that. Apparently, if you choose to make this substitution, you should probably not fill up the entire little hole thingy where the dishwashing detergent goes. In fact, you should probably use about, oh, one millionth of the amount of said detergent. Look people, I'm just here to educate. Oh, and if perchance, you end up with a soapy floor, do not fret; rather, use this as an opportunity to make that floor shine like a bald man's forehead.

Back to our thrilling story -- I decide that maybe I can evaporate away the excess soap that is still seeping out of my dishwasher by putting on the plate warmer setting. (Fuck yeah, I took all those Science Regents back in the day!) This appears to be effective, and I leave the dishwasher door ajar so that the soap can continue evaporating overnight. The next day, (i.e. yesterday), I call my personal guru, aka my mother, for some advice as to how to remedy this soapy situation. After some well-deserved mocking, she suggests that I run the rinse cycle so that I don't eat soap. Very smart. Well, except for the fact that Operation Evaporation was not as effective as I had hoped and I caused yet another soapy flood in my kitchen. Actually two more, because I ran the dishwasher again to get rid of more of the excess soap. After I fully saturated two towels, I decided it was time to throw in the...er...towel, I guess. I'll revisit the scene of the grime (sorry) again tonight.

Brady Bunch Moral: Taking shortcuts sometimes makes things take longer. Also, I should get other people to wash my dishes for me.

i'm posting 'bout "trapped in the closet"

2005-08-04T10:01:00.000-04:00

Now I'm gonna write about "Trapped in the Closet." I'm about to say something about "Trapped in the Closet." Here I go, writing about "Trapped in the Closet." I am pressing buttons on my keyboard, trying to impart information about "Trapped in the Closet."

First, you must go here and watch all five chapters of R. Kelly's magnum opus about infidelity, pastors, police officers, leg cramps, and orgasms.

Then you must reflect upon its magnificence. Others agree.

Next, for a literary critique of this musical masterpiece, kindly go here.

Finally, try to forget R. Kelly's predilection for underage girls and sensual urination.

it's funny because it's true (although i am probably going to hell)

2005-08-04T09:38:00.000-04:00

This morning, on the way to work, I witnessed a woman with a straight cane escorting a woman with a seeing-eye dog across the street. As I glanced at them, I thought to myself, "What is this -- the blind leading the blind?" All of a sudden I realized that it literally was the blind leading the blind!

Then I noticed this guy who had a bird in his hand...

No, but seriously, the blind women were real.

sacrelicious!

2005-08-03T17:56:00.000-04:00

There's this: But I don't even believe in Jebus!

Also, here is some information about dating Jewish men.

Finally, some deference.

Amen.

adaptation: the musical

2005-08-03T10:33:00.000-04:00

So last night, I had a total meta experience. I was at a preview of Lennon, and seated directly across the universe...er...aisle, is none other than Yoko Ono. That's right -- Yoko freaking Ono at a musical about the life of John Lennon. (Granted, she's like a co-producer, and gave clearance for the music rights, etc.) It's not every day you see a cultural icon, particularly one who is watching actors portray her life story on stage. It added a fun little element to the show - watching Yoko watch someone else reenact something that really happened to her in her own life. Also, throughout the show, photographs of John, Yoko, etc. become part of the scenery - so then, I was looking at Yoko looking at a picture of a younger Yoko looking adoringly at John. The universe didn't explode or implode or turn inside out or anything, so that was cool.

Anyway, Yoko was quite small - not sure if she even hit 5 feet. She was wearing a black shirt and black jeans -- and the ubiquitous greenish-tinted sunglasses of course -- and when she got up to leave, she put on a white jacket. She had a mini-entourage and some bodyguards who made sure people didn't get too close or try to take cell phone pictures. Despite this intimidating set-up, Yoko seemed laid back, happy, and psyched for the show. Quite surreal to watch her clap and sing "Give Peace a Chance" while a man and woman on stage pretending to be John and Yoko reenacted the bed-in and sang "Give Peace a Chance." She nodded approvingly throughout the show, took some notes here and there, and even made some peace signs and pumped her fist in that hippie-way during "Power to the People." Utterly ridiculous and insane.

It was also a fun game to watch people notice her. Double-takes, triple-takes, quadruple-takes galore! And the idiots sweet-talking her bodyguards in a futile attempt to get an autograph or a photograph were particularly amusing and pathetic.

The show itself was ok - John Lennon's music is great of course, but I didn't really learn anything new, and it's not like I went in with too much preexisting knowledge about his life. I joined in the standing ovation at the end, though -- Yoko did it, and you just have to follow Yoko's lead. She really does have some weird power. Guess that's how she managed to break up The Beatles.

Anyway, despite all of the Lennon songs I heard last night, I walked out with this one in my head.

and one more for good luck

2005-07-20T19:02:00.000-04:00

For all you dog-lovers out there, if this actually happened to you, you might become a cat-person........WHOOO.

ennui, the enemy

2005-07-20T12:03:00.000-04:00

No real news or amusing (well, they amuse me) observations today. It is hot. And humid. And I've managed to contract some annoying virus thingy. Who gets sick in the summer? I took a rather enjoyable sick day on Monday, but returned to the grind yesterday. Anyway, I feel like this heat just kind of sucks the life out of everyone. So here are some suggestions to get through these trying times.

1. Read Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. Everyone else is doing it, and peer pressure is great! (I mean, I haven't read it yet, but I do own it.)

2. Watch these TV shows because they are diamonds in the rough. (I mean, I don't watch them, but they seem ok. I recommend Hooking Up [my new favorite], The 4400, Six Feet Under, The Closer, and Entourage. Plus some others, but you can get in touch with me if you really want to know.)

3. Listen to this band. Sure, they've been around for a while, and the true indie kids have known about them for ages, but they've only recently showed up on my radar. Plus, the band has not one, but two former child stars. Good times.

4. Embrace your boredom and possibly, your attention deficit disorder. One day at a time, my friend. One day at a time.

And of course, if all else fails, drink heavily.

new adventures in geekdom

2005-07-12T22:08:00.000-04:00

So, I'm still at work, and I'm kind of lacking creativity. So I decided, why not write a sestina? It's really not good at all, and you can find much better ones here, but it's my first attempt. Quite possibly my last. You'll let me know, I'm sure. Anyway, without further adieu, I present...

Just Because I'm Not a Teenager Doesn't Mean I Can't Whine

Have I mentioned how much I hate Tuesdays?
I am still sitting here at my desk.
My couch would be much more enjoyable.
Oh! How I yearn for this day to end!
I want to bathe in the warm glow of my television,
And then snuggle in my luxurious bed with my multiple pillows.

If only my office had pillows,
Then maybe, I could tolerate Tuesdays!
Or better, if there were a television
Perched in the corner and visible from my desk,
I wouldn't be suicidal by the day's end
And work would seem almost enjoyable.

Yes, life would be quite enjoyable,
And cooler than the flip side of pillows
If weekends would just never end.
Because then, there would never be Tuesdays,
And I wouldn't be here at my desk,
Instead of at home, watching television.

I just want to go watch my television!
Even Seventh Heaven might seem moderately enjoyable,
Or maybe Larry King, hunched at his desk,
Or that commercial with bears using toilet paper soft as pillows,
Or whatever crappy reality show happens to air on Tuesdays...
But, alas, this day has no end.

I seriously have come to the end
Of the line. I might soon be on television
Because I'll secure my place on Tuesday's
11 o'clock news. Right after they discuss enjoyable
New restaurants and toxic stuffing in pillows,
They'll feature the girl who picked up her desk

And threw it out the window. The desk,
By the way, had been perched on its end,
And soared through the air like feathers cascading from down pillows
Until it met the glass window pane which shattered like a television...
Yes, it would be mighty enjoyable
To stage a war against working late on Tuesdays.

For now, I'm at my desk, and not in front of the television.
But it will make today's end seem all the more enjoyable
When I finally hug my pillows and silently curse Tuesdays.

that's what trends are for

2005-07-07T09:20:00.000-04:00

So today, on the subway, some dude was wearing one of those polo shirts with the collar turned up, and it got me thinking, "damn, does that look stupid." But then I started thinking about trends, and I guess specifically, fashion trends, and the trajectory of coolness. And here is my take on it.

First, there's like a line of demarcation that no non-cool person dare cross. For example, way back in the day, you could only wear your backpack to school on one shoulder. It was absolutely unheard of to sport the two-shoulder technique. Similarly, if you were wearing a baseball cap, it had to have the perfect curvature in the brim. Wearing a straight un-broken-in brim was a no-no. And as for our friend the polo shirt, it was like "duh - of course the collar gets turned down. There is literally no other feasible way to wear this shirt."

Next, someone - be it a character in a movie, a gangsta rapper, a mildly funny actor with a hidden camera prank show aimed at celebrities, or even the alpha male/female at a particular school - starts doing something so uncool that it becomes cool ironically. See, for example, that whole trucker hat fiasco of 2003. "That's right, I'm so comfortable with myself that I don't even care what people say. I'm wearing my knapsack on both shoulders - wanna make something of it?" Or, "Man, I am so busy being cool that I don't even have the time for such plebian actitivies like folding over my shirt collar or shaping the brim of my hat. And you know what, I'm gonna wear my hat cocked, at like a 27 degree angle, and I'm not even going to push it all the way down on my head. Look, I have things to do." Remember when boys first started getting their ears pierced and there were strict rules about that, too? It had to be the left ear, and only the left ear -- if they went for the verboten right lobe, well, clearly it meant they were...gay. And that training stud had to be taken out as soon as possible to be replaced with the ubiquitous hoop. Fast-forward ten years and every hardcore rapper from P. Diddy to Justin Timberlake is wearing studs. Big ones. In both ears.

Then, the trend becomes ubiquitous and displaces the original style. A fashion mandate emerges - no you cannot just wear that collared shirt like a normal person. Didn't you get the memo? The collar goes up. Up! How many times do I have to tell you -- of course the backpack goes on both shoulders - do you want to get a hernia or something?

Once the Gap starts mass-producing the style and every housewife in the Midwest embraces it, the fashion trend has overstayed its welcome. Suddenly, it goes from cool to lame, and no self-respecting person would be caught dead sporting that look. See, for example, Z. Cavariccis and their brothers-in-pleated-baggy-hips. Trucker hats have been dying a slow death, too, but can still be found in the tween set in particular.

Finally, years pass, and the trend is long forgotten. But then, some fashion designer unearths her mother's bellbottoms or her grandmother's clamdiggers and voilla! A retro look is reborn.

But really, can we do something about those shirt collars?

Oh, and in related news, here's why I don't live in Murray Hill.

summertime...and the living's easy?

2005-06-27T16:40:00.000-04:00

The longest day of the year has come and gone, my younger relatives are at sleep-away camp, and July 4th is on the horizon. It's summer. And it's time to face a horrible, horrible truth: I really don't get a summer vacation anymore. Really.

This is my first summer as a not-student. Summer jobs and internships don't count because: (a) they existed for a predetermined limited amount of time; and (b) they were couched between actual vacation time of the do-nothing variety. Plus, as a newbie/student/intern, it was okay if you totally messed up every now and again because you were young/inexperienced/illiterate. But now, having been at this job for almost eight months (WOW), I do not really have the luxury of saying, "Can you show me how to use the fax machine again, because I'm still confused." (Although, to be fair, I have people who send the faxes for me these days. Boo-yah!)

But back to the more crucial issue at hand - there is no promise of sweet relief from the job anytime soon. I mean, it was hard enough to accept that I would never again watch back-to-back episodes of The Simpsons on a random Tuesday afternoon. Not to mention the fact that I have to sacrifice the occasional weekend and/or late night at the office. And let's not even discuss that, while we get some days off for national holidays and in accordance with our employment plan in theory, these vacation days are not necessarily guaranteed in practice. Which is why I spent part of my Thanksgiving weekend...and Christmas Eve...and New Years' Eve...at my desk. (Believe you me, I am keeping my fingers crossed for July 4th!)

In the "real world," summer is just like winter, only hotter. We still wear suits and we still have a heavy workload. I don't know who these bitches are that take the Hamptons Jitney on Friday mornings, but they sure ain't people at my office. And yes, the air conditioning is lovely, but looking out my office window on a sunny day is not the same thing as feeling the warm sand between my toes. Unfortunately, the Ferris Bueller mentality (i.e. "How can I possibly be expected to handle school on a day like this?") does not apply in Corporate America. Damn capitalism. Maybe Ferris was right when he said, "-Isms, in my opinion, are not good. A person should not believe in an -ism; he should believe in himself." But I digress.

So yes, reality bites. And while I know that this is better than the alternative -- I'm not going to work at The Gap for chrissake -- I still would much prefer a day at the beach to a day at my desk. Well, not today, because it's raining. But you know what I mean.

To those of you who are veterans of the world of summer-workers, do you have any advice? Is there a support group I can join? Maybe, I'll just have to come down with a nasty case of mono on August 1st.

ok, here's the situation

2005-06-16T16:45:00.000-04:00

Well, it's clear that my posting has been a bit light as of late. There are many reasons for this: annoying things at work, pretty weather outside, family gatherings, etc. But really, my extended absence is truly the fault of one thing, and one thing only. (Well, two - we can't really discount my laziness, can we?) I blaim AIM Express. Look, it even made me spell "blame" like "blAIM" -- it's taking over my life! Help!

Anyway, here's the deal. I've now been at my job long enough to have just enough confidence in my work product, such that I now hold the belief that I'm not in constant danger of being fired. So now that I've crossed that threshhold, I thought it was time to try and sabotage my work ethic (which erodes at a rate that's directly proportional to the outside temperature anyway). Since I work at one of those places that prevents its employees from downloading software onto the company computers, I thought that my plans for AIM distraction would surely be thwarted. But lo and behold! Again, technology is one step ahead of human ingenuity. Ah, sweet AIM Express, the web-based IM machine-thingy that allows me to "talk" to my friends all workday long. Simply put, while this blog is A Way Out, I have found other means of egress, in the form of glorious AIM Express. It has replaced a great deal of my blog-reading and crossword-puzzle filling, because, well, I do have to occasionally do *some* work. For the past two days, I've been working quite hard, so hard, in fact, that I have been doing my best to avoid AIM Express. And look where I am -- back to my old stomping grounds. See, I told you I'd be back. Oh, and Rose, don't be tossing accusations when you know well and good that you are a part of the problem. But for you thirsty readers who are not Rose, I give you Exhibit A (edited for content):

d: i feel very bad -- i've been neglecting my blog
d: but i can't help it - now that i have aimexpress, my friends keep me entertained all day!
d: so really, it's your fault.
rose: lol. i think its funny how we can talk all day to our friends online.
d: i love it! it makes me so much happier at work
d: although, not as productive...
rose: listen, if we can do our jobs at a level that is satisfactory to exemplary AND talk to each other AND other people AND take calls AND AND AND, we are genii.
rose: geniuii
d: mensae

Exhibit B:
d: i was just thinking that i viewed our lives as those of superheroes!
d: let me explain
rose: do!
d: like, the *real* us are our secret identities. our coworkers only know us in our office personas. but that's not really us at all! (pardon the grammar mangling)
d: they think that we were BORN to file and do spreadsheets and send out invitations or whatever
d: but nooooooo
d: they have no idea that we were put on this earth
d: um
d: to
d: talk shit about friends and strangers?
rose: LMAO
d: watch television?
d: go to the zoo?
d: look. i don't know our *TRUE* purpose, but it sure as hell isn't sitting at a computer for hours on end
d: upon further reflection, perhaps superheroes were not the best analogy
d: b/c we're kind of like superheroes...without any superpowers whatsoever
rose: our selves are just SUPER
d: by george, i think you've got it!
d: think about how much time you spend with your coworkers and how little they actually know you
d: i find that interesting
rose: very true. they think I am quiet, for example.
rose: for another example, they think I am doing work right now
d: ha!
rose: or at all, ever

* DISCLAIMER (attn: bosses and other people in power): The preceding entry may be entirely fictitious, as Rose and I are both extremely diligent workers, and would never ever spend company time on AIM Express. Or writing a blog entry for that matter. Ever.

i have not forsaken you

2005-06-01T09:35:00.000-04:00

Would you believe that there's life outside the office? I know, it sounds like I've been taking crazy pills. Anyway, sorry for my extended absence, but I've been working a bit harder at work so that I can do things besides work. Yay. In the past few weeks, I've caught up with some old friends, made some new ones, traveled to Texas, visited the Central Park Zoo, watched many a television finale, seen some Broadway shows, frequented the movie theater, and purchased a new bed. I also read this article about this game which is my latest addiction. Try it. I dare you.

Here are some pickup lines you might enjoy.

Here is a video of Tom Cruise going crazy on Oprah. It's to the tune of a quality Guster song. (Did you SEE him on Oprah? I did. Wow.)

And here are some pictures of teddy bears in kimonos.

Gotta run, but I shall return.

it's official.

2005-05-19T10:56:00.000-04:00

I'm old.

Here's today's historic import (TV-wise), and here's a list of other revelers and some significant events that happened today (e.g., Amy Fisher shot Mary Jo Buttafuoco!). Here's some more information about the wonderous day that is today.

Oh, and here's a picture of a stuffed monkey riding a bicycle.

P.S. Some space movie was released today too. (And Episode I was released 5 years ago on this day -- one of May 19's darker moments.)

solar power

2005-05-17T16:25:00.000-04:00

I went away for the weekend -- spent some time in Atlanta. As a former resident of the South, it was quite nice to return to the land of sweet tea, fried chicken, and politeness. And, I returned with my first sunburn of the season! My face feels crunchy. I can't complain, because I kind of did it on purpose. At the least, I knew it was happening, because I was outside for many hours in a row and I am (well, I was) quite pale these days. So I welcomed Mister Sun and all of his repercussions. However, I tried to be all sneaky and kept taking off my sunglasses to avoid "the raccoon," a calamity to which I am highly susceptible. Turns out that sunglasses actually serve a purpose, as I am now sporting "the reverse raccoon" or alternatively, "the football player in touch with his feminine side." It's cool though. By the time I emerge from my office in four days, the pinky hue will be replaced by a healthy (right?) bronze. Until then, the only light I'll see is that numbing glow cast by the fluorescent light above me. I will return triumphant, Mister Sun!

office drone + too much sun + weekend with the family = crazy person

Free to Be You and Me is dangerous too.

i want answers. i want the truth!

2005-05-09T17:32:00.000-04:00

When I got home late Saturday night, I put on the TV as I was getting ready for bed. E! was showing a rerun of SNL, and then, at the commercial break, that Giuliana chick piped in and said "Breaking news! Sources say that Jennifer Garner is pregnant..." So, um, is that *really* so newsworthy that they had to make a special announcement? And did E! really believe that their late-night audience was desperate to know this news immediately? Who do they think is watching at 1:30 in the morning on a Saturday? Is there a big fight for exclusivity for news stories like there is for paparazzi photos? And who are these "sources"? I mean, as of today, a day and a half later, both Ben's and Jen's publicists are denying the pregnancy. Does E! do this kind of thing every time someone famous has news like this? Did they go crazy w/Britney's marriage(s) or pregnancy? Is it only for A-listers (whatever that means)? Do weddings qualify? How about births? Secret trysts? Does this story garner (yay puns!) special attention just because this couple has a nickname i.e., Bennifer II? And is this couple's notoriety really due to the success of its members or is it because of the media craziness that followed Bennifer I? I mean, BenJen 2.0 actively shuns the spotlight -- why is the media trying to interfere with their personal lives all the time? Is Jennifer Lopez kicking herself right now? Is this announcement an attempt to take the wind out of the sails of Ben & Jen's exes' upcoming movie (that's Monster-In-Law starring J-Lo and Michael Vartan, for those of you with lives)? Why do celebrity pairings keep getting pregnant before marriage (e.g., Gwyneth & Chris; Heath & Michelle, Reese & Ryan)? Is it all intentional or are they just lax when it comes to using protection? (The Reese/Ryan nuptials were definitely of the shotgun variety, yet Reese escaped with her reputation unscathed). Is it time for me to abandon my unexplained distaste for Ben Affleck because of my affection for Jennifer Garner? It's questions like these that keep me from being a more productive member of society.

news you can use. or not. it's up to you, really.

2005-05-06T14:32:00.000-04:00

Another former flame of Paula Abdul confesses. Straight up!

Princeton students do their best Energizer Bunny impersonation

Denial. Anger. Bargaining. Acceptance.

Back to the Future IV: Nerds on Patrol

2004's most popular baby names. My name didn't make the top 1000. Again.

i'll take potpourri for $600, alex

2005-05-04T11:39:00.000-04:00

Did you know that you can buy a plain white t-shirt for $250? And I thought Banana Republic's $35 t-shirts were overpriced...

The Gay Agenda. Be afraid. Be very afraid.

A helpful list of office cliches.

Will the Newlyweds soon be the Newlydivorceds? (Also, Katie Holmes avoids an event run by Nicole Kidman. I'm sure it would have been delicious and awk-ward).

Frrrozen hot chocolate frrrom Serendipity 3! Best ever. Frrreals. (If you're lazy or prefer a more-instant gratification, you can buy the mix. I've tried it, and it's just like the real thing.)

that's amore?

2005-04-27T19:48:00.000-04:00

I interrupt dinner at my desk to bring you this breaking story: Tom Cruises Down Dawson's Creek. [Thanks, defamer!]

Does this seem really really odd and wrong to anybody else? Crap, soon Katie will be announcing that she's converted to Scientology.

And yes, this is what counts as "news" in my world. (Oh, and if you like that kind of thing, might I recommend this article? Ok, I will)

In closing, WTF?!

P.S. I'm sure this is true love and not just a publicity stunt for any upcoming movies.

monday malaise

2005-04-25T15:06:00.000-04:00

Here's what's happening on this cloudy and kind of sluggish Monday:

Why is this day different than all others? The Seders are over, but here are some helpful hints for Passover.

Best. Show. Ever.

Remember that whole "reading is fundamental" campaign? Screw it.

Apparently, it's a sloooow news day.

Neither rain, nor sleet, nor snow will keep the Pope from...uh...Poping.

Seriously, what's the deal with those mutant sheep who eat Skittles? (I kind of like the birds eating Mentos, though.)

kiss but please don't tell me

2005-04-22T11:30:00.000-04:00

It's spring, and love is in the air. Ben and Jen, Michelle and Heath, and two of my oldest friends.

He is essentially my oldest friend: we grew up on the same block, and through the years, we played Jump Off The Swings, Running Bases and Touch Football. We had play dates and sleepovers; we'd watch TV and play Sega Genesis; when I fought with my parents, I "ran away" to his house. Once, we even dared each other to eat an ant -- in case you're wondering, they're quite crunchy. Our friendship was practically sibling-like: I even punched him once when we were kids, and I remember him crying as his dad told him to hit me back. (He didn't. Pussy.) Through the years, our friendship would ebb and flow, as I was a year ahead of him in school. We were always platonic, and our relationship was undeniably asexual (well, he did make a pass at me on one occasion, but nothing happened and it doesn't count anyway -- he was a teenage boy and I had breasts [I still do]). In high school, we gave each other relationship advice (although it was admittedly a bit weird, as I dated his best friend for a while), and we dabbled with cigarettes and Coors Light. We parted ways as we went to our respective colleges, but He is, and will always be, important to me, as he played such a prominent role in my formative years.

So yeah, He called a few months ago to let me know that he randomly ran into Her on the train and subsequently had taken Her out for dinner a few times, and how crazy was that? It's fucking crazy. In fact, it kind of ~~freaked~~ ~~grossed~~ weirded me out.

Now, She and I were friends since elementary school. Our friendship crecendoed during middle school, when we fell in love with Pearl Jam, and tried to learn all the words to the Holy Triumverate: Rumpshaker, OPP and Informer. Our families were friends too, entangling our lives even further. We vacationed together in Disney World, and we spent many a night at the mall, a coffee shop, or the movies. Somewhere around 10th grade, we began to drift, but a connection remained. I can't really communicate it any clearer than to say that she's just "one of those people" that I'll always know.

She finally got around to telling me yesterday (but I rarely speak with Her these days anyway), and I'm like, "Dude, I've known for months." And She's like, "I know you've known for months." She said, "You know, we talk about you all the time." And I said, "Yeah, He told me that, too. But honestly, I don't know why -- it's not like I ever talk to either of you bitches... and what exactly do you say about me - 'hey, wasn't it cool when we shared a candle at d's bat mitzvah? good times.'"

Anyway, I am happy for them, and this doesn't really affect my life in any way...but it is a bit strange and random. Also, this is not the first time that two of my best friends started dating. In college, I befriended Boy and Girl during freshman orientation week, and the three of us became fast friends. We hung out all the time...until sometime around Thanksgiving when Boy and Girl decided to start dating. I knew that this would be the end of our threesome, and it essentially was, but our friendships evolved and all was well. (Ok, that's not the whole story, or even a completely truthful fraction of the story, but I figure the abbreviated version is enough for now.)

I told Her this vignette, by way of illustrating that I don't fear becoming a third wheel with this new couple (like I said, I don't see them much anyway, and there's just too much history on all sides.) She surmised, "Well, maybe it's you! Maybe you just bring people together." I doubt it. But then again, I have many many friends, so chances are, someone's gonna hook up with someone else at some point. It's just a matter of statistics. You can't argue with math.

I'm not really sure what the point of this is. Hmm. Well, it sure is weird to know that two of your oldest friends are sleeping with each other. So, there's that.

Anyway, maybe some of the love karma will come my way, too. It seems like there's plenty of it going around. In related news, my friend Rose found love by writing her blog, and she's even in the paper today because of it! And in unrelated news, what a way to celebrate Earth Day!

life, or something like it

2005-04-15T09:31:00.000-04:00

Well, I guess there's no need for me to ever write a memoir because she has already done it. And she's damn funny too. Plus, she has a boyfriend. Bitch. I particularly enjoyed this post. And this one. Oh, and this one. Fuck it -- read it all.

In other navel-gazing news, I'll just stare at my own for a minute and tell you that I am in the process of moving. And damn, does it suck. It's not the moving per se, but the fifty million things that go along with it. I have thus far spared you from hearing about the months of hell I spent looking for an apartment. (Although, when the nightmares hit again, I may be forced to write about the landlord who couldn't get into the unit he intended to show me or the "one bedroom" wherein the "bedroom" was literally a cubbyhole carved in the wall with a twin mattress on the floor.) For now, let's just say that finding an apartment in New York that fits one's desired specifications is like finding an electron circling the third nucleus from the right, located in the eye of a needle that's buried in an eight-thousand story haystack. Good times.

My latest source of annoyance relating to the move, however, is trying to find the time to actually do it. I have a job. I have to go to the job every day. It is the kind of job where a person would come to the office the morning after he breaks his wrist (self-inflicted due to a minor work-related mistake, natch) or the day after he's in a hospital bed, trying to pass a kidney stone. (I don't even have to try and come up with exaggerated stories for hilarity's sake because those anecdotes are true.) It is the kind of job where I am expected to work ungodly hours, and where I could easily get called in on a weekend. (I always think to myself -- if I wanted to be be on call, I would have become a doctor. At the least, my grandmother would have been proud.)

I have gotten a bit off track, but the point is, it is nearly impossible to balance the job and a normal life, so taking on a big project like moving approaches the level of utter absurdity. Recent weekends have been spent purchasing furniture; lulls at work are filled with stops at Crate and Barrel's website; lunch breaks are used to call Con Ed and Time Warner.

Oh, and another thing I hate about renting in New York is the complete imbalance of power. I was definitely spoiled by my last apartment in a city that was undeniably not New York. Now, I fully realize that I will never again live in an 800 square foot one bedroom with a patio and my very own free washer/dryer (in the apartment!), located in a gated complex with two swimming pools, a gym, a parking spot, and round-the-clock maintenance...all for under $700 a month! But would it be too much to ask, honestly, for the broken window pane to be fixed, or the patches of wall that the super missed to be repainted, or a new top lock on the door? I am told that "well, it is just a rental." But then I think about the months I spent finding this perfect abode, and I want to shout, "This is the representation of all of my free time for the past three months, and it's going to cost those three months' salary to get all moved in, and I'm sure as shit not moving again in the foreseeable future, so would you sand the fucking floor? Please?"

I checked on it yesterday. The floors are beautiful, and the new window should be arriving "soon."

I move tomorrow.

britney and kevin: the newlyfeds

2005-04-06T09:47:00.000-04:00

Well, Britney Spears and Kevin Federline have decided to class up their act...by starring in a reality show...on UPN. Now don't get me wrong: I'm not a hater. I was intrigued by Britney when she was a Star, even though I believed that I was a fan in an ironic way. But I did see her in concert. And I saw Crossroads in the movie theater. Twice. Hmm, perhaps I have revealed too much.

Anyway, that was the Old Britney. Back when she was neither a girl nor a woman, Britney was an Icon. The New Britney confuses me. She makes out with Madonna. She gets married. She gets divorced. She eats Cheetos. She gets married again. To a guy with a pregnant girlfriend. She drinks Red Bull. She uses a public bathroom. Barefoot. Recently, Britney wrote a Letter of Truth aimed at False Tabloids, wherein she accuses said tabloids of being fat and cheating on their wives. (She probably meant the writers, not the magazines themselves.)

Now, in an effort to set the record straight, Britney will be "expressing [her] personal life through art" through the aesthetic beauty of reality television. This masterpiece, however, remains unnamed. So, here are some potential titles (and feel free to contribute your own):

White Trash Wedding
You Had Me at Holla
I'm With Her
Cheating Is Bad; Cheetos Are Delicious
Our Spearrific Love
Weddinz Iz Tight
I Now Pronounce You Pimp and Ho'
Wed Me Baby One More Time
COPS
Britney and Kevin are Betrothed and Klassy
Cornrowses Are Red, Red Bull Is Too
Love At Second Marriage
Federline and the Coconuts
Justin Who? Shar What?
Goin' to the Chapel, Y'all
Bride and Breasteses
Feder and the Bride
With This Ring, I Thee Fed
We Are Federly (I Got All My Bitches With Me)
Please Give Us Privacy

UPDATE: They're playing the naming game on TVGasm too.

UPDATE 2 (4/7/05): Fametracker is in on the action. Who knew this was such a popular game?

similes are like a way to compare things

2005-04-05T16:36:00.000-04:00

The morning commute houses a veritable cornucopia of comparisons. Entering the subway is like stepping into a clown car. Just when you think that there could not possibly be more room for one more person to climb on board, six more finagle their way in. The riders become acrobats, swaying to-and-fro, their bodies angled this way and that, clutching poles and umbrellas, shifting their weight left and right to avoid a collision or a tumble. With each subway stop, the car grows more crowded, and the commuters are packed in like sardines (or pickles). When a popular station is reached, the subway car empties like a gambler's bank account during March Madness. Passengers wriggle past each other and throw elbows like snakes playing rugby. People spill from the car like red wine on a white carpet. Then, the pace of the surging crowd abruptly slows down like a teenager's growth after puberty. The stairs become saturated with people who line up like the numbers on one of those swively combination locks. They climb the stairs (or escalator) like ivy on an old building. Finally, they reach the street level where free newspapers are distributed like so many STDs at a fraternity party. The crowd disperses like those important papers you were supposed to give to your boss but got caught in a windstorm and so you dropped them. And everyone heads off to work like lambs to the slaughter (I couldn't come up with a more accurate one here if I tried).

For another take on the NYC subway system, go here.

just some random stuff on the interwebs

2005-03-29T14:48:00.000-05:00

This would be a really shitty way to die. (Sorry, couldn't help myself.)

How Hugh Hefner packs for a week's vacation.

Elaine Benes in the awkward teenage years.

I swear that I knew that Julia Roberts did the voiceover for that AOL commercial the first time I heard it! Really! (Richard Dreyfuss hawking Hondas and Lisa Kudrow selling Aquafina are some other obvious ones. Anyone else think they heard Linda Cardellini on a 7 Up ad?)

The end is nigh. Jen finally files for divorce.

the president says tomato; the president says tomahto

2005-03-21T17:15:00.000-05:00

Whatever your political slant or your personal beliefs about life and death (and about Terri Schiavo's situation), take a look here to see some serious hypocrisy (granted, the headline is a bit inflammatory). I thought John Kerry was the flip-flopper?

rhyme and reason

2005-03-18T11:40:00.000-05:00

If you ever attended elementary school or perhaps camp, you may be familiar with the following jingle:

If you sprinkle when you tinkle, please be a sweetie and wipe the seatie.

I never really liked this little slogan -- I mean, who calls it a "seatie"? I'm all for poetic license, but not when it's just absurd. It annoys me in the same way as this good old high school cheer: "R-O-W-D-I-E: that's the way we spell rowdie!" Well maybe that's the way you spell it, but we English-speakers spell it R-O-W-D-Y. Granted, if you are more rowdy than somebody else, you are rowdier, but there is no "ie" in rowdy. Good thing you're not cheering at a spelling bee.

Anyway, there is a sign encouraging fastidiousness that hangs in the public bathroom in my office. This is what it says:

If you sprinkle when you tinkle, please be a dear and wipe up the mess.

I mean, that's not catchy at all. It doesn't rhyme. (Although, it does fit into the haiku scheme: if you sprinkle when / you tinkle please be a dear / and wipe up the mess.) It also doesn't make sense. Do people who are "dear" generally wipe up messes? Or maybe the author meant "deer" but I'm not sure they have the reputation of being particularly clean animals. Also, I find that "mess" is just a little too vague (and a little too graphic). If I sprinkle, does that mean I have to clean the paper towels clogging up the sinks? I also think that this display is not a request; rather, it is a mandate. I find it to be obliquely threatening. Maybe, just maybe, this directive is an homage to Biff of Back to the Future fame, who memorably warned, "Why don't you make like a tree, and get the hell out of here!"

Finally, I'd like to take a moment to honor the grandfather of hygiene missives: "Welcome to our ool. Notice there is no 'p' in it. Please keep it that way." Might I suggest an addenum -- "N.B. Our ool is also averse to 'dr' and 'st.' Thanks."

making sense [groan] of the news

2005-03-14T14:41:00.000-05:00

I've been having some technical difficulties. I posted something a few days ago and it disappeared into the ether. And I just tried again and the same thing happened. Third time's the charm?

Anyway, here's some news for all of your senses:

Sight -- am I the only one who giggles at the commercials for Blind Justice? I mean, I'm all for suspended disbelief, but...a cop...who, like, hunts down criminals...but he can't see them? Let's give the American public some credit, shall we?

Hearing -- the latest overheard gossip is that yet another Hollywood couple is calling it quits. Sideways director/scribe, Alexander Payne and his muse, actress Sandra Oh are separating.

Scent -- some entrepreneurs are filling a niche in the market that I didn't know existed by selling smelly balls. Bowling balls, that is. Get your minds out of the gutter! (get it?)

Taste -- apparently there's no accounting for it, as ~~Jennifer Lopez’~~ ~~J. Lo’s~~ Jennifer Lopez’ new album entered the charts at #2. Maybe Blind Justice has a chance after all...

Touch-- [insert Michael Jackson joke here]

sweet dreams are made of this

2005-03-10T11:02:00.000-05:00

So I haven't felt very creative or inspired lately, but perhaps my subsconscious is working overtime. At the risk of being more self-indulgent than usual, let me tell you about this weird dream I had last night. I only remember drips and drabs of it, and it's pretty nonsensical. Ok, so I was at a beach party of some sort. This girl I went to elementary school with starts chasing me, so I start running away. She, and I guess some other people, pick me up and toss me super-high and super-far into the ocean. I hit my head. When I wash up on the beach and come to, Regis Philbin and Kelly Ripa are standing over me. I think maybe it was their party? Regis is all, "So WHAT HAPPENED to you? You've been SLEEPING for TWO DAYS!" I'm quite confused. It appears the tide has ebbed quite a bit, and then I realize that its actually a not a real beach, but the set from that movie, Soapdish. Kelly's all, "Big Daddy, leave her alone!" and tells me that I actually have only been passed out for a few hours. She asks me how I'm feeling, and as I get my bearings, I realize that my left earring is missing. Reege says, "Well, maybe we can find it" and Kelly says, "In the ocean? I don't think so." Reege asks, "What kind of earring was it, anyway?" and Kelly says, "A two karat diamond, obviously."

And then I woke up.

I have absolutely no clue what any of this means. I haven't been to a beach recently, and I don't plan on going to one in the near future. I'm pretty sure that I'm not pals with Regis and Kelly. I haven't seen Soapdish since the mid-90s. I don't own two carat diamond earrings (I will happily accept them as a gift, however), although my sister did lose one of her diamond studs in her sleep a few months ago.

Like I said, weird.

hollywood ending

2005-03-08T09:30:00.000-05:00

Man, maybe Brad and Jen are bigger trendsetters than we ever imagined. First there was Orlando and Kate, but now it seems like half of Hollywood thinks that breaking up is so hot right now. In the past week alone, we've seen the demise of Denise and Charlie, Katie and Chris, and now...Shannon and some Joe person. Granted, so the naked chick from American Pie and a guy who looks like John Travolta in that weird movie nobody saw don't exactly qualify as Hollywood royalty. But still.

Yes, love is fleeting. Perhaps the poets Hanson said it best, "In an Mmm-bop you're gone; in an Mmm-bop you're not there."

UPDATE: Don't toy with me! Brad and Jen may be reconciling. Those two -- they're always one step ahead of the crowd. No word on copycats Denise and Charlie, well, except for a rumor that he cheated...with prostitutes, natch.

you want fries with that oscar?

2005-03-01T19:36:00.000-05:00

I know that I am dangerously close to becoming a Hilary Swank fansite, but I couldn't resist sharing this tidbit. Apparently, after hitting all of the Oscar parties, Hilary stopped at Astroburger for a vegetarian cheeseburger. In the dress. With the Oscar. See for yourself. Now, tell me that's not endearing.

And in other unimportant news, thank you Bachelorette, for wasting my time.

Ok, back to my hiatus.

ok, i lied

2005-02-28T10:09:00.000-05:00

I really will be taking a brief hiatus, but I would be remiss if I didn't mention the Oscars. I'm going to be all over the place, so apologies for my Joyce-ian post. (That's right, I referenced James Joyce. What!?)

I saw The Aviator yesterday afternoon, so I managed to screen all five nominees for Best Picture. Of course, it's easy to play Monday Morning Quarterback, but I thought that Million Dollar Baby was the best, and I hoped it would win. And it did! I did enjoy The Aviator -- I thought that the cinematography and color palette were amazing, and it was a traditional "big" bombastic movie. (Conversely, MDB was small, intimate and more emotional.) Also, I thought that Leonardo DiCaprio did an incredible job. If Jamie Foxx hadn't been such a shoo-in for Ray, I think Leo would have had a real fighting chance. No need to pity Mr. DiCaprio though: he'll be just fine.

Oh, and Cate Blanchett was phenomenal as Katharine Hepburn. Although I am a longtime Laura Linney fan (if you haven't seen You Can Count On Me, please go do so now), I was rooting for Cate. Before seeing The Aviator, I had some empathy for Virginia Madsen (everyone loves a comeback), but, Cate was truly amazing. Plus, Sideways walked away with the Independent Spirit Awards, so no need to pity the Sideways people either. Also at the Independent Spirit Awards, Catalina Sandino Moreno won for best actress for Maria Full of Grace, and that was great too.

Ok, back to the main event. I've said it before, but Star Jones is still the devil. You'd think that after all these years on The View, she'd know how to conduct an interview. Well, you'd be wrong.

As the evening progressed, it looked like it was going to be The Aviator's night. Although the supporting actor/actress category was split (Morgan Freeman/Cate Blanchett), The Aviator kept on winning the "smaller" awards. However, the biggies went to Million Dollar Baby. I feel like I've praised that movie and Hilary's work in it ad nauseam, so I'll spare you. But can I just say that it's so cool that Hilary now joins the elite ranks of two-time winners? Also, her dress was pretty remarkable too. I guess the two biggest awards are the ones for director and best picture. Poor Marty Scorcese, solidifying his position as the Susan Lucci of the Academy Awards. I had a passing thought of Winslet-as-Lucci because she's now been nominated and lost four times. But Marty's done it way more times than that. Also, Winslet is still 29 years old, so there's plenty of time for her to win. Oh and she seemed fine -- she was smiling and laughing soon after the Best Actress category came and went, particularly when Charlie Kaufman deservedly won Best Original Screenplay for Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.

I thought Chris Rock was a great host, and how annoying and random was it for Sean Penn to be personally offended by Rock's knock at Jude Law? Learn to take a joke Sean, geez! And why pick that joke as the offensive one? How about when Chris said, "here are our next four presenters: Salma Hayek and Penelope Cruz" or "star of the eagerly awaited Catwoman 2, Halle Berry" or "when he's not making movies, he's annoying us with his politics - Tim Robbins"? By the way, I thought the constant ribbing of the stars was freaking hilarious, and nobody else really seemed to mind. Way to be a party pooper, Sean.

Anyway, I'd love to ramble on (e.g., yay for the return of Gwynnie, Julia Roberts is clearly breast-feeding, gotta love the cutaway shots to all people with Spanish accents when the song from The Motorcycle Diaries won), but I must exit. For more Oscar stuff (I sound like a commercial), go here for some of the night's more memorable moments, and here for the funny things I wanted to say if I had more time. Hooray for Hollywood and yay for the Oscars!

ode to snow: variations on a theme

2005-02-25T14:14:00.000-05:00

i
the snow looks pretty as it falls down
but when it lands, it's melty and brown

ii (haiku!)
look! it snowed again!
break out the fucking shovel
motherfucking snow

iii (haiku!)
each and ev'ry flake
is unique in its very
own annoying way

By the way, I used to love the snow very much. But it's different when you don't get to celebrate it, and it becomes more of a hindrance than anything else. Here is a final, simplistic illustrative poem:

iv
kids are sledding down the hill
laughing as they go
building forts and igloos
and angels in the snow
they stick a corncob pipe
in their wintry creation
sipping hot chocolate
on their spontaneous vacation
and while they enjoy
their snowmen and their luck
i sit at a goddamn desk
i mean, what the fuck!?

Ok, now that I've beaten that dead horse, here are two amusing pieces - both from McSweeney's and both about women-type stuff. But not in an annoying way. Trust me.

Finally, I have just been informed that the next seven days will be quite hellish for me at the office. Thus, I must take a brief hiatus from my favorite means of escape (i.e. this thing you're currently reading), but I intend to return post haste! The little leisure time I will have in the coming days is obviously reserved for the Oscars. Stay tuned for my outdated recap. I apologize for my impending absence, but look, we all have priorities. Apparently mine are: (1) make a living; and (2) watch TV. See you soon.

live from new york...

2005-02-23T17:12:00.000-05:00

Ok, so first things first. The host was none other than Hilary Swank (yay!) and the musical guest was 50 Cent (holla!). Overall, the energy in the studio was great – there was lots of clapping and laughing going on. Also, even though it was technically the dress rehearsal, it was treated as if it were the real thing. For example, there were pauses for commercial breaks during which the band would play, and the crew would count down at the end of the commercial break as if the show was going back on air. The whole thing was extremely fast paced: as soon as a scene ended, the cast members participating would run off the set to prepare for the next one. There’s also a person I like to call the “host-wrangler” who dragged Hilary around by the arm so that she could quickly change costumes and wigs for the upcoming sketch. There was a cute/funny moment right after the monologue – the host-wrangler grabbed Hilary for the first time, and Hilary appeared to be genuinely surprised. She quickly recovered and sprinted to prepare for her first sketch; after all, running around is part of her job. Throughout the evening, Hilary showed that she's comfortable with comedy (and competent too), and she appeared to enjoy herself. 50 was pretty entertaining too, although the the first song he sang might be the dirtiest one I’ve ever heard. When he finished, I turned to v and told her that I felt like I needed to take a shower.

Later, I watched the live show to see the final product. All told, three commercials and four skits were cut. Also, the order of the sketches was rearranged and some of the dialogue and even costumes had changed. I actually preferred the dress to the live show, but I think that’s to be expected because there’s nothing like being there. I must say, I definitely gained a lot of respect for the cast of SNL. Putting the whole “live television” thing aside (because that, alone, must be some ridiculous pressure), it must be pretty stressful to perform something that keeps being modified right up until the moment it’s broadcast. Plus, the cast members know that these episodes will live on for eternity, either on Comedy Central or E!, depending on who acquires the syndication rights in any given year. I figure that there’s probably also some frustration for the performers who write and rehearse a skit, only to have it edited out at the last second. So, in honor of those lost sketches, I’ll describe the four skits that were not quite ready for primetime…er…late night.

1. Scorpio – I was sad that this one didn’t make it to air. It was a play on Alias, complete with a pre-recorded opening sequence in which Hilary donned a variety of disguises. I knew I wasn’t the only one to see the Swank/Garner resemblance (sidenote: I'm not sure the author still agrees with his own analysis - I say there’s room for the both of them). However, the premise of the skit was kind of iffy. Swank plays Scorpio, a spy who has been prohibited from using lethal force. Instead, she gets suspects and marks to comply with her demands by using her, let’s say, womanly assets. However, she apparently is the worst spy ever, and repeatedly seduces the wrong man...or men…or Special Olympics competitors. Seriously. Perhaps the “Corky” joke (which may have been a reference to hubby Chad Lowe’s stint on Life Goes On) led to this skit’s demise.

2. A Holy Dining Experience – Hilary plays the teenage daughter of Maya Rudolph and Chris Parnell. They’re all eating lunch at a diner where they are frequently interrupted by recurring character Leviticus (Rob Riggle). Leviticus is apparently posing as a diner employee – his vest has a picture of Jesus on it and the word “Manger” (not a spelling error) embroidered on it. He constantly addresses the family in a fire-and-brimstone fashion, beseeching the Lord to look down upon them and save them from hell. Most of the humor came from his over-the-top performance and the family's exchange of awkward glances. I'm doing a poor job describing it, because it was funnier than it sounds.

3. The Falconer – In this recurring sketch, The Falconer (Will Forte) is quite sexually frustrated and wishes he and the Falcon could switch places so he can get some action. Something Freaky Friday-ish (or Vice Versa if you prefer) happens, and the wish comes true…just in time for a horny hermit lady (Swank) to arrive in the forest. The Falconer (now in the Falcon’s body) flies to an apothecary so they can switch back. But the apothecary (Horatio Sanz) won’t give away the potion for free, and the Falconer-Falcon must participate in a cock fight. A boxing match (obviously an homage to Million Dollar Baby) with a rooster follows, and the Falconer-Falcon returns to the forest with the potion. Of course, he arrives just as the hermit and Falcon-Falconer have completed their tryst. The skit ends in its traditional fashion, “…until that time, you will remain the Falcon, and I shall remain…The Falconer.” I wouldn’t be surprised if this showed up later in the season with the next female host because it wasn’t necessarily Swank-specific.

4. Worst Lap Dance Ever – A man (Seth Meyers) is treated to a lap dance by his friends. Hilary plays the dancer. And she’s the worst lap dancer ever. First, she apparently doesn’t really know how to dance seductively. Mainly, she just kind of violently bumps the guy with her butt and pelvis (think Will Ferrell and Chris Kattan in the old “Night at the Roxbury” sketch), and ends up wrapping her knee around his neck so that he’s in a headlock. The guy tries to end the dance but she won’t have it because she needs the money and the boss has video cameras all over the place. The dancer goes from unsexy to disinterested, as she starts eating a sandwich while choking the dude with the crook of her knee and repeatedly saying “that’s hot” and things like that. The skit ends when her lesbian lover shows up and they start beating up the guy. And…scene. So yeah, this was kind of the weakest skit of the night and deserved to be cut. However, Hilary did have some funny moments in it.

Oh, and if you watched the live show, you might have noticed a deer-in-headlights situation during the J-Lo/Mark Anthony sketch. I’m not sure if they changed the dialogue, or if Hilary just messed up, but at the dress rehearsal, when she ran back onstage as Loretta Lynn, she had a frying pan with her and said something like “Where is it? I hear that bat again!” (Earlier, she likened J-Lo’s singing to a bat being trapped in her wig closet). Just thought I’d mention it.

In conclusion (finally, right?), it was definitely worth the night in the cold and some pre-show stress (i.e., will we get in?) to sit in Studio 8H and watch the live show. Now I wouldn’t endure 17 degree weather and a sleepless night for just anyone, but it was pretty exciting to be there last weekend. I’d like to thank Hilary Swank, 50 Cent featuring Olivia, the entire cast and crew of SNL. Good night! (Look, they never know how to end skits on SNL, and I just couldn't figure out how to end this post. Deal with it.)

waited on a line (of greens and blues?)

2005-02-22T14:59:00.000-05:00

This weekend, my friend v and I decided to do something NY-cool/touristy-lame and waited on the standby line to see Saturday Night Live. If you ever wondered how to get tickets to SNL, here’s how it works: each August, people can apply for tickets for the upcoming season. It’s a lottery system, so you don’t know if you'll actually get tickets. Also, you can't make requests with respect to the date or the host (and the hosts are announced throughout the season anyway), and you may win tickets to the the actual live show or the dress rehearsal that immediately precedes it. In addition to the lottery-winners, there are a certain number of “house” seats put aside for friends and family of the cast and crew, the NBC executives and clients, and the host and musical guest. So, at any given show, there may or may not be some “extra” seats. Those extra seats are then filled by the standby-ticketholders. The standby tickets are given out at 7 a.m. on the day of the show. People start lining up as early as Friday afternoon to secure their standby tickets (which of course, does not necessarily guarantee them seats). So there’s the exciting logistics.

My friend l had tried the standby line a few weeks ago, but didn’t end up getting into the show, even though she showed up at 5:30 a.m. So v and I decided that if we were going to go for it, we were going to go for it, and we arrived at Rockefeller Plaza at 3:30 a.m. Surprisingly, there were 15 people crazier than us who were already in line. v and I bundled up and took our places. Did I mention that it was 17 degrees outside? Yeah, that was fun. There wasn’t a lot of camaraderie in the SNL line, mostly just shivering. Although, some people brought beach chairs and a boombox and filled our ears with the melodious tunes featured on Hot 97…for three hours. Oh – so on the standby line, you have the choice of getting a ticket for the live show or the dress rehearsal at 8 p.m. After some mild debate, v and I decided to go for the dress rehearsal, or as they say in the biz, “dress.” We learned that the dress traditionally has more standby seating available, and after spending those hours in the cold, we wanted to guarantee ourselves a show. Also, we were told by some other line-dwellers that the dress is actually better because it tends to run two hours (instead of the typical one and a half) because some skits are cut and edited before the final show. Anyway, we got our tickets at 7 a.m., crashed for most of the day, and then returned to the studio at 7:15 p.m. to find out if we were going to get in. There was some more line-waiting and security checks, but finally...we were in!

We were shuffled into Studio 8H and, let me tell you, that place is way smaller than it looks on TV. Word on the street is that there are only 200 seats in the whole place. With the exception of a bunch of seats on the floor, most of the audience sits in the balcony, looking down at the stage and the sets. If you sat in your balcony seat and looked straight ahead, pretty much all you’d see are hanging lights and cameras and technical TV-making equipment. It’s kind of like being in a big warehouse with a whole bunch of dioramas set up throughout the warehouse floor. So, you can see some of the skits right in front of you, but others are really only visible on the television sets strategically located throughout the studio. It's kind of like being at a play, but you get to see a lot of the backstage stuff happening in front of you. It's pretty cool. So, that’s the general overview. Details to follow.

life imitating art

2005-02-21T23:11:00.000-05:00

So I actually started writing this on Friday, but I got a bit sidetracked. Anyway...so the other day, something happened in my actual life and it reminded me of something that had happened on television. I thought this was kind of weird. I mean, I know TV shows are designed so that viewers can relate to them. Or pretend to relate to them e.g., "My life is so much like Sex and the City it's ridiculous!" Or at least be grateful that their actual lives aren't as bad as what they see depicted on the screen e.g., "I hate my boss, but at least I'm not stranded on an island with the possibilty of being eaten by a monster." (See also "Reality Television"). But I wondered -- what does it mean that I thought that I was having deja vu, but I actually was just remembering something similar I saw on television? Well, obviously, it means I watch too much TV. Beyond that, I can't really say.

I know that I am not alone in this phenomenon. For instance, there was this guy who would continuously compare the mundane goings-on in his life with stuff he saw in old movies and television shows. Of course, this guy was the main character on a TV show himself, namely, Dream On. Is that irony? Or just very meta? I can't decide. (Also,I'm not sure what it says about me that I even remember this show...let alone that I remember that the lead actor is Brian Benben).

So here's my deal. I've been looking at apartments for a few weeks now, and I came very close to signing a lease last week. I wasn't entirely sure how I felt about the place, but I was psyched enough to put in an application and go through the credit check process. But then, my broker called to tell me that someone else had put a bid on the apartment too, but if I was willing to go higher, I could probably still get the apartment. When I heard the news, I felt kind of relieved. As I was debating whether to get in the bidding war, the broker called again to tell me that the other potential applicant dropped out. This should have been great news, but I was only mildly happy about the situation. On the one hand, the apartment was pretty great and definitely doable. I've been looking for a while, and how could I be sure that I'd find another place I liked as much? But on the other hand, this place was a bit beyond my means, and I wondered if it was worth paying more than I intended for a place that was by no means perfect. And then I reminded myself that there's no such thing as "perfect," particularly in the NYC rental market. Finally, I remembered something that made it all crystal clear, namely, the following exchange from Friends:
Phoebe: Umm, it’s negative.
Rachel: What?
Phoebe: It’s negative.
Rachel: Oh. Oh. Well there you go. Whew! (Pause) That is—that’s great—that is really great-great news. (Pause) Y’know ‘cause the whole not being ready and kinda the financial aspects, all that. Whew. Wow, this is so just the way it was supposed to be. (Starts to cry.) God.
Monica: Well… Well, great.
Phoebe: Here. (Gives Rachel a tissue.)
Rachel: Thanks. (Crying) God this is so stupid! (Pause) How could I be upset over something I never had? It’s negative?
Phoebe: No, it’s positive.
Rachel: What?!
Phoebe: It’s-it’s not negative, it’s positive.
Rachel: Are you sure?
Phoebe: Well yeah, I lied before.
Rachel: Oh!
Monica: Oh God…
Phoebe: Now you know how you really feel about it.
Rachel: Oh-oh, that’s a risky little game!

In this episode, Rachel takes a pregnancy test but can't bear to look at the results. So she has Phoebe tell her the outcome of the test, and they have the preceding conversation. In case your brain doesn't work in the same weird way mine does, I'll connect the dots. I started thinking about my reaction to the broker's phone calls and realized that since I was kind of relieved when I thought I lost the apartment, then "how I really feel about it" is that I shouldn't live there. So, I called the broker the next day and told him I decided to pass on it. Obviously, I don't let television shows make all of my decisions for me (oh that they could!), but I found it slightly disconcerting that this scene from Friends played in my head when I spoke to the broker.

One final fun fact: David Crane and Marta Kaufman were the creators of both Dream On and Friends. Maybe they're magical. I'm just saying.

the more you know

2005-02-17T19:01:00.000-05:00

So I've been a bit busy, you know, reading books and stuff. Seriously, I've read two whole books in the past five days. I honestly can't remember the last time something like that happened. Maybe in college, cramming for finals?

Anyway, I'm a little behind the curve, but I would like to rave about the literary creations of Augusten Burroughs -- specifically, his memoirs. (He also wrote a novel and a collection of stories, but I haven't gotten to those yet). Running With Scissors is about his childhood: his mother sent him to live with her psychiatrist and the psychiatrist's crazy family. "Crazy" is actually an understatement, as the Finch family has virtually no boundaries and no personal hygiene. At different points throughout the story, different family members: (1) commune with a dead cat; (2) receive messages from God via human excrement; (3) tear down the kitchen ceiling with nary a reaction from the parents; (4) bring all of the furniture outside and then live on said furniture in the yard. These are only some of the "adventures" young Augusten witnesses in his adopted home. It's a wonder he makes it out alive.

We find out in the follow-up, Dry, that Augusten is scarred from his unusual upbringing. One consequence is his excessive drinking. Although he is a successful advertising executive, Augusten is a functional alcoholic. His best friend is dying from HIV, and Augusten is in denial about this occurrence, as well as his own affliction. Dry tells the story of Augusten's 30 days in rehab, followed by his struggle to "work the program" i.e. attend AA meetings and therapy. It is a descriptive tale of the trials and tribulations of addiction, and Augusten fills his memoir with biting sarcasm and touching anecdotes.

This is a lame lame book review, but I am in a rush. I would like to expound on these tomes a bit later, particularly Dry. In the meantime, order them up (buy both and save!) on Amazon. And watch the rotund famous internet kid lipsynch opera. (Did you know he's from New Jersey?)

love actually is all around

2005-02-14T14:10:00.000-05:00

Did you know that there are lots of people who love their jobs? Like, "[p]eople who whould keep on working if they hit the lottery. People who jump out of bed in the morning, thrilled that it is Monday." Just some warm and cuddly love on this day devoted to St. Valentine. (Of course, there are those, who, if they had a million dollars would "relax, sit on [their] ass[es] all day. [They] would do nothing.")

In other news, Jamie Foxx won nine Grammy's last night. Someone should tell him that he's not actually Ray Charles. Great, thanks.

beautiful cold fridays in february when you are DYING for spring

2005-02-11T15:20:00.000-05:00

My Philadelphia readership suggested that topic, but I'm not really feeling it. Instead, I present:

NFL Mascots That Could Not Actually Wear a Football Helmet Without Suffocating.

Republicans Like Parades

Find a Valentine on Craig's List

I Know This Isn't True, But Still

And on a somber note, RIP Arthur Miller

sho' bizness

2005-02-10T10:26:00.000-05:00

My sister has recently decided that she would like to embark on a career in the entertainment industry (maybe it runs in the family?). I am pleased to announce that she has landed her first gig: she'll be a production assistant as they shoot this pilot. The Oscars can't be far away, right?

Just wanted to share.

underground pole dancing

2005-02-09T17:54:00.000-05:00

I enjoy riding the subway (just like Hilary), but I absolutely despise touching the poles. (Now, I'm going to have to ask you to kindly get your minds out of the gutter, so that I can continue this discussion. Thanks.) Really, I can think of nothing worse than putting my hand on a dirty metal pole that, in the preceding few hours alone, has been held by hundreds of people. It doesn't require a lot of imagination to come up with a list of disgusting things that any one of my fellow subway-riders may have come into contact with throughout the course of his or her day. Or even if I give them the benefit of the doubt -- let's say they all lead very clean and hygienic lives -- maybe, as they were leaving their office for the day, they shook hands with someone who just happens to be the dirtiest person ever. Honestly, I am giving myself the chills just thinking about it. Oh, and plus, I frequent the subway during rush hour, so there's maximum pole-touching. Look, you get my point, and if I keep supporting my theory with facts, I'm going to have to take a cab home. (FYI, this is not just a New York subway thing -- I also refused to touch the poles on the DC metro when I interned there for a summer). I am fairly certain that I have a cute little pile of psychological issues, but pole-o-phobia is one that I fully admit to and cannot deny. Oh, and notice that it's not germophobia: it's pole-o-phobia. Because, germs notwithstanding, I loathe the pole itself -- it feels kind of sweaty, even in winter, and it gives your hand that gross, metal-y smell. I mean, seriously, the subway pole must be the reason that all of those antibacterial soaps were created.

Anyway, in order to keep my balance, I will sometimes lean against the pole -- maybe hold one foot against the bottom, or maybe rest one shoulder against the tiniest amount of pole possible. I admit that, on occasion, if I'm wearing gloves, I may hook onto the pole with a finger or two. But, in many circumstances, I avoid the poles altogether and stand around in no-man's-land. I merely bend my knees a bit, put one foot slightly in front of the other, maybe curl my toes in my shoes, brace myself and try not to fall. I always thought that this feels kind of like snowboarding, but apparently, it's called subway surfing. And not only does it keep the evil flu away, but it gets your ass in shape, too! Who knew!?

Just a friendly public service announcement from your local pole-o-phobe. Happy riding!

i dare you not to laugh

2005-02-09T15:23:00.000-05:00

Since it's the Chinese New Year (happy year of the rooster!) and Ash Wednesday (get well soon, Pope), many people are enjoying the proverbial "clean slate." What better way to sully it than to watch the best clip ever (via lindsayism). Sure, you'll feel a bit evil for laughing, but I guarantee that you'll just have to watch it over...and over...and over again. With the sound on of course. Oh, and here's a little frame-by-frame if you can't open it at work just now.

tell me why...i love you like i do

2005-02-08T13:14:00.000-05:00

Today, they're releasing a best-of DVD collection of one of my favorite TV shows, Mad About You. As you may recall, the show was about a married couple in NYC, Paul and Jamie Buchman (nee Stemple). Paul (Paul Reiser) is a neurotic Manhattan-bred Jewish filmmaker, and he brought the phrase "not so much" into the American lexicon. Jamie (Helen Hunt) is a WASP from Connecticut who went to Yale. The two live happily in their apartment with their dog, Murray (and later, a daughter Mabel), and exchange endless witty banter. They bicker about ridiculous things, and they have plenty of sex in their kitchen. Their circle includes Paul's lecherous cousin Ira, on-again-off-again-couple-friends Fran and Mark, Jamie's free-sprit sister, Lisa, and Paul's lesbian sister Debbie and her lover/obgyn Joan. Mad About You was kind of like Seinfeld, because in a lot of episodes, nothing much happened. (Trivia: in one episode, we learn that Paul sublets his old "bachelor pad" to Kosmo Kramer). Mad About You also had similarities to Friends, mostly in its tone -- in fact, a lot of what Paul says could have easily been said by Chandler. Come to think of it, Paul is kind of a cross between Chandler and Ross. (Trivia: Lisa Kudrow played Ursula, the ditsy waitress on Mad About You before she became Phoebe on Friends. Paul Reiser and Helen Hunt had a cameo on Friends where they show up at Central Perk and try to place an order with Phoebe.) Ah, remember when NBC sitcoms really were Must-See-TV? Also, don't you think that Paul's parents are clearly the template for Ray's parents in Everybody Loves Raymond. I mean Sylvia Buchman and Marie Barone are practically the same person!

Anyway, apparently other people like the show too:

What made the show so outstanding? It was a gentle, honest, funny look at the very basics of marriage. The core characters of Jaime and Paul Buchman had been married less than six months. We saw the neurotic uncertainty of two people merging their lives: their friends, their families, their possessions, their pasts, their values, and much more. We watched their doubts and witnessed their triumphs in overcoming them. And it was just so darn entertaining, with great performances from the entire main cast.

Also, here is a rather extensive site about the show. And you can get your very own DVD collection here.

Here are some of my favorite quotes :
Jamie: Will you tell her what men think when girls give in on the first date?
Paul: Yippee?

Paul: Why is it I love you any more in the middle of February than on, say, August 21st? You know, to me, every day with you is Valentine's Day.
Jamie: So, in other words, you forgot to buy me a card.
Paul: That's what I'm saying

Paul: There's my beautiful bride!
Jamie: Ah, bite me.

Paul: No, the sound we have. It's the picture, not so much.

Paul: "Hello Ma. Ma. Ma? Ma!" Look, I'm like a sheep but with m's.

Paul: Never gonna happen, my friend.
Jamie: Oh, how I love that expression.

Hell, they even made it funny when Jamie was giving birth:
Paul: Don't even pay attention to them...
Jamie: Shh!
Paul: You just focus on--
Jamie: Don't talk!
Paul: Why not?
Jamie: Just don't!
Paul: You just focus on--
Joan (doctor): Keep breathing Jamie, you are doing great.
Paul: You really are, you're doing just--
Jamie: Don't talk!
Paul: Just me?
Jamie: Yes.
Paul: I'm not allowed to talk ab--
Jamie: Please.
Paul: Joan just talked--
Jamie: Anybody can talk, just not you.
Paul: I just don't understand why--
Jamie: Are you kidding me now? You're going to pick a fight with me now?
Paul: No, no, no--
Jamie: You're going to start with me now?

In conclusion, I very much enjoy this show. This is what I'm saying.

my big fat chic tuesday

2005-02-08T09:23:00.000-05:00

Ok, first, some brief catching up:

Saturday -- the SAG Awards. If you're like me, you ~~stayed home to watch~~ TiVo'd them. The SAG awards are great, because, like the Golden Globes, they honor people from movies and TV -- the best of both worlds. But the SAGs (that's what I call them) are more self-congratulatory than any other award show because all the awards are for actors and they're voted for by actors. Basically, the actors are all saying "let's be honest - no one gives a crap about the sound design guy." Which, of course, is true. So I enjoy that. Anyway, you can read all the acceptance speeches here. In movies, Sideways won for best cast, Jamie Foxx for best actor, and Hilary Swank for best actress. In TV comedy, Desperate Housewives for best cast, Tony Shaloub for best actor, and Teri Hatcher for best actress. In TV drama, CSI for best cast, Jerry Orbach for best actor, and Jennifer Garner for best actress. There's only so much award show discussion I can do, and I'm saving my strength for the Oscars.

Sunday -- the Superbowl. Well, there was the boring game (don't be sad Philly people), the commercials were kind of tame (you can see them here), and the half-time show was rather lame. (Yay rhyming!) Oh, and for you connoisseurs of irony, apparently, the FCC received complaints from people who were bored with the halftime show. (Ok, it was only 2 people, as opposed to last year's 500,000 "morally outraged" folks, but still.)

all the news that's sort of fit to print...well, kind of

2005-02-04T14:34:00.000-05:00

So, there's some stuff going on in the world today. See if you can guess which one of these headlines is real:

Twentysomethings are big babies.

The Europeans are better than us.

Lindsay Lohan takes on the First Amendment. Also, she can't drive.

New club opens on Saturn.

UFO Found On Beach After Killer Tsunami

"Jackson and McCartney" no longer evokes the classic track, "Ebony and Ivory."

Hugh Hefner likes bunnies and mice.

good old boys were drinkin' whiskey and rye

2005-02-03T15:21:00.000-05:00

Man, is our union in a state, or what? Didn't watch The Speech last night? Don't worry, you weren't alone. Apparently the President's pearls of wisdom were no match for the audition rounds of American Idol. A spokesman for the White House said, "Well, it's not like the citizenry was watching Iraqi Idol. Ours is a country of patriots." (ok, that quote is completely fabricated, but there's not much to work with today). This is a more entertaining post about the speech. I've let you down today, and I apologize. I'll make it up to you soon. In the meantime, can I interest you in the ten creepiest kids in film? Oh, and if anyone besides me is feeling kind of bummed today, it might be because it's the 46th anniversary of The Day The Music Died:

Today, friends, is The Day The Music Died. On Feb. 3, 1959, Buddy Holly, Ritchie Valens and J.P. Richardson (The Big Bopper) were headed to a gig in Fargo, N.D., when their plane crashed. Don McLean was not on the plane, but wrote the 1972 devotional "American Pie" about the crash and about a million other things. (via Black Table)

Hey, this post is thematic after all! "American Pie"...State of the Union...right? You know, because both of them feature a jester. See, all wrapped up in a pretty bow like a happy little sitcom.

rise and shine campers, and don't forget your booties

2005-02-02T10:37:00.000-05:00

...'cause it's coooold out there today. That's right, it's Groundhog Day today, one of the more worthless holidays. If there's mail, the banks are open, and you're sitting at your desk, it can't really be a holiday, now can it? For those of you who rely on a rodent to prognosticate the weather, P-list celebrity Punxsutawney Phil, did, in fact, see his shadow. So that means that there will be six more weeks of winter. So let's see, I guess spring is slated to begin near the end of March...yup...that seems about right. Apparently, being a groundhog is a thankless and stressful job: New Jersey's J.B. has gone missing, while Georgia's Beauregard Lee is planning his retirement. First Tom Brokaw, then Dan Rather, and now an overgrown hamster?! I'm not sure that the news media will be able to recover.

Also, if the beginning of February is just a cruel reminder that you don't have a Valentine yet, you're not alone. Joining the fray of singledom is the Bachelorette's Meredith and Ian. Brad and Jen are apparently bigger trendsetters than we realized, although it's rumored that they might be reconciling. Here's hoping!

In other news, my new pet peeve is people who, while listening to their iPod, share their music with the entire subway: either they have crappy headphones or they're partially deaf. Sometimes, they drum along to the beat, and other times they mouth the lyrics and/or nod their head to the beat. Occasionally, you get someone who thinks he's the guy from that old Coca-Cola commercial, you know, where he sings on the bus? Anway, today, I had the good fortune to sit between two musical impresarios. I felt like I was caught in that Aerosmith/Run DMC video for "Walk This Way." Here are some things I wish I said/did to the guy sitting to my left (drumming and lipsyncing):
1. "Can you turn that up a smidge? I'm having some trouble hearing all the words."
2. "You realize you're not invisible, right?"
3. Just try to bounce my head and lipsync along. Get really into it.
4. Lean on his shoulder and say, "That's my favorite song. Would you please sing it to me?"
5. "Have you met the drumming girl to my right? Maybe you could start a band."
6. Point and shout "Hey, this guy's listening to Barry Manilow!"
7. "Excuse me, but were you on American Idol?"
8. "It's a little early in the morning to be listening to Pantera, isn't it?"
9. "You are annoying. Please die."
10. "We all get it. You have an iPod. We see the white wires coming from your ears. You're very special."

it's not easy being beautiful

2005-02-01T18:13:00.000-05:00

Wow, the Times was right! Kate Bosworth and Orlando Bloom have split, obviously because Kate's IQ is too high. After all, she was admitted to Princeton, but deferred after landing the role in Blue Crush. Granted, she's been deferring for three years now, but maybe she'll change her mind. Then again, her Blue Crush character did say, "Somebody's got to go to college, and it isn't going to be me." Could this be life imitating art? Let's not forget, however, that Kate is not just an actress: she's a philosopher, too! Hmm...maybe that whole IQ thing wasn't an issue at all. I'd really like to jump on the bandwagon and blame Angelina Jolie, but apparently she's busy saving the world.

fun with double standards

2005-02-01T09:26:00.000-05:00

I forgot to mention this yesterday, but men like dumb girls. According to Sunday's New York Times:

"researchers concluded that high I.Q. diminishes a woman's chances of getting married; men in demanding jobs prefer to wed women willing to be old-fashioned stay-at-home mothers; men looking for long-term relationships would rather have them with women lower on the job ladder than higher; the number of women who have never had children is rising markedly; and employers do in fact hold working mothers to a higher performance standard and working fathers to a lower one."

I mean, was it really necessary to confirm upwardly mobile twentysomething women's fears with actual science? Thanks for that. Tomorrow in the Wall Street Journal: "New Study Shows Men Prefer Large Breasts."

swanktastic: wherein i lose my sanity

2005-01-31T11:54:00.000-05:00

I fully recognize that I am both too old and too well-educated to entertain such ludicrous thoughts, but I want to be friends with Hilary Swank. And not to ride the Oscar coattails or to hang out with the Lowes or anything like that. I finally saw Million Dollar Baby, and I just would like to be able to pick up the phone, call my friend Hilary, and say "Dude! You're a rock star! Seriously, you totally held your own with freaking Clint Eastwood and Morgan Freeman. I'd yell at you for not warning me to bring an entire box of Kleenex to the movie, but I fully believe that you can absolutely kick my ass." And then we'd laugh, you know, like friends do. Then maybe go ride the subway.

I know that the journalists love to say how actors and actresses are "grounded" and "down to earth," but in Hilary's case, I actually believe it. In her talk show appearances, magazine interviews, and in last night's episode of 60 Minutes, she always comes across as humble, intelligent, and witty. (Her Golden Globes acceptance speech was one of the best, in my opinion). You get the sense that she really is enjoying every moment of this experience, she sincerely loves her craft, and she is by no means taking her good fortune for granted. (On the subway-riding: "it's quick. It's inexpensive." Clearly the girl can afford a cab, or a towncar for that matter. But she still knows the value of a dollar.) After all, she is an unlikely movie star. Like any good Hollywood story, she has risen from the muck and is living the American Dream - reared in a trailer park, raised by a supportive, single mom who took her to L.A., spent a small stint living in the car a la Jewel, got her big break with Mr. Miyagi, and found an independent film that lands her an Oscar and some clout. All by age 25...oh, and she managed to fall in love and get married too. And with Million Dollar Baby, all those cynical nay-sayers who surmised that Boys Don't Cry was a fluke can shut the hell up and eat a big-ass plate of crow. (That's right, Hil - I've got your back!)

While I had all but abandoned 90210 before Hilary arrived on the scene, I was well-acquainted with her performance in Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I am not being facetious here: I still own the VHS and I never watched the spin-off TV show on principle (what principle, I cannot exactly say). In Buffy, Hilary spouted the classic line, "Get out of my facial!" and sported the "retro" yellow leather jacket, before falling victim to the evil vampires. (What ever happened to Kristy Swanson, anyway?) So Hil, would you maybe just consider doing another comedy sometime soon? Or at least something that's like...I don't know...happy? I just don't know if I can handle all this crying at your movies. So how about a movie where, like, you and Jennifer Garner play sisters (I think there's some resemblance there, right?) -- you know, she can be the wild and wacky one, and you could be all serious and conservative (with some biting dialogue, natch). But then, a free-spirited man comes into your life and turns your life upside down. And "wild and crazy" big sis helps you come to terms with your fun side, gets you a makeover, etc., while you teach her an important lesson about...I don't know...life? Man, writing movies is easy! (Of course, if you prefer, you can be the wild and wacky one. After all, you're the Academy Award winner.)

Ok, so Million Dollar Baby. I mean, all the reviews and other movie-goers said, "it's really sad," and "there's a twist" (don't worry I won't spoil it), but as the movie progresses, you forget that it's a heavy drama. Here's some dry banter between Clint and Morgan. There's some intense training scenes courtesy of Hilary. Here's some symbolic father-daughter scenes with Hilary and Clint. There's Morgan mopping the floor. Here's a left hook. There's a right jab. And then BAM - the audience gets knocked out. I will not elaborate, save to say that I think I stopped breathing for the rest of the movie. Well, except for the sobbing of course.

In the coming weeks, much will be said about the Oscar rematch between Hilary and Annette Bening. To be honest, I haven't seen Being Julia yet, but I can definitively say that i was blown away by Hilary in Million Dollar Baby. (Knocked out, even? Swank you, Swank you very much. Oh dear, I am truly sorry.) I really don't care about Bening, but it will be hard not to root for Kate Winslet. You know how I love British people doing American accents, particularly Kate. But, at the end of the day, it's a no-brainer. Obviously, I'll be cheering for my friend, Hilary Swank.

this is the best elevator music i ever heard

2005-01-28T13:04:00.000-05:00

Well, I just made an interesting discovery. I've been riding on the elevator at my office for months now, and I just noticed a message etched in the metal, warning would-be vandals that the elevator is monitored by closed circuit TV, so they best not spray paint their names inside or rip up the quality carpeting. This is by no means earth-shattering of course, but it caused a horrible image to flash before my eyes -- me. You see, sometimes, whilst riding on said elevator in the morning, as I rev myself up to take on the day, I have been known to make a series of funny faces at a frenetic pace for my own amusement. Make no mistake -- this happens very infrequently (like once a month or so) -- and it is in no way reminiscent of Ben Stiller's threats/karate during the closing credits of Meet the Parents. But...I wonder if any of the security guards have seen me in action. I mean, I know that if my career involved flashing a little infrared thingy at ID cards and sitting at a desk in front of a whole bunch of TVs all day, I'd be watching those screens (like it's my job?). Do they ever get to see something good? Who would be so compelled as to vandalize the elevator anyway? Is that really a message to people having affairs with their co-workers to avoid lunchtime/coffee break quickies? And do the TVs have volume? Oh no, have the security guards heard me sing? And why hasn't FOX made Elevator Episodes a reality television show yet? Just think of all of the "going down" jokes they could make.

something new to be insecure about

2005-01-27T18:08:00.000-05:00

Apparently, I blog like a boy. (via lindsayism) The Gender Genie does some fancy math tricks (I don't understand, you see, because girls are bad at math), counts the number of times you type "tampon" or "football" and..voilla...gender determined! Seriously, I tested out three different entries from this here site, and each time the Sex Psychic said "you are absolutely, definitely, and without a doubt, a dude." For some reason, I find this alarming. Like, totally!

P.S. Full disclosure: I just tried this entry (you know, the one that I'm currently still typing and you're still reading) and got "male" again!

it's funny because it's true

2005-01-27T15:35:00.000-05:00

If you're a rap mogul, and you intend to engage in illegal activities, it's probably not a good idea to give yourself a nickname that stirs up images of the Mafia. (Ok, if you insist on giving yourself a Mob name, definitely don't pick one that conjures up images of an A&E TV show.) It's also probably not a good idea to name your music label Murder, Inc. Well, I guess if you want to clean up your image, you could rename the label "The Inc." But if you really want to clean up your image, you might want to go ahead and try to stop committing crimes. Then again, if you're Irv "Gotti" Lorenzo, you might just ignore everything I've just said. I mean, what could go wrong? (Incidentally, I wonder if the feds can get him for false advertising - after all, the company was called Murder, Inc., when it should have been called Laundering and Crack, Inc.) Oh, and if you're really considering a career in thugging, and you're really getting into the whole name-changing thing, my advice would be to lose "Irv". Sounds kind of like a grandpa, if you ask me. I think that "Guido Lorenzo" would have been just as effective as "Irv Gotti." (By the way, ethnic jokes may be uncouth...but you laugh because they're based on truth.)

But really, a pretend-Mafia guy actually committing crimes is as ridiculous as the winner of Survivor neglecting to pay taxes on his $1 million winnings! Wait a second...

The good news is, maybe the beef between Ja Rule and 50 Cent can finally be put to rest. All this time, 50's been saying that Ja ain't nothin' but a wanksta'...and it turns out Ja's been working for an honest-to-goodness criminal! Hey Alanis, maybe it's time to churn out a new version of that song.

P.S. Do you think Ashanti's in on it?

tennis, anyone? crikey!

2005-01-26T14:32:00.000-05:00

I don't know how I missed it, but the Australian Open is almost over already! No worries because the home stretch is actually the most exciting part. By the way, we're talking about tennis here -- I know the U.S. Open is the only tennis-related event recognized by us ethnocentric Americans. Well, and I guess Wimbledon too. Plus the Olympics. Maybe the French Open? Ok, so much for that theory. Anyway, some good news for tennis fans at the start of this tournament -- neither Andre Agassi nor Lindsay Davenport is retiring. Yay America! While Andre folded to top-ranked Roger Federer in the quarterfinals (not bad for an "old man" though), our girl Lindsay is hanging tough and is set to play Nathalie Dechy in the semifinals. Her quarterfinal match against local favorite (because she's an Aussie) Alicia Molik was exciting, and it culminated with a Davenport victory at 9-7 in the third set. Not only is Lindsay playing some great singles, but she and doubles partner Corina Morariu are all set to play in the finals! Retirement, bah! So - Davenport v. Dechy and Serena Williams v. teen phenom/evil Russian Maria Sharapova in the women's semis. Unless Davenport really drops the ball (insert groan here), she has a clear path to the finals. (The last Grand Slam, i.e. the U.S. Open, also featured two Americans in the semifinals -- Davenport and Jennifer Capriati -- and I was there in the stands...with an American flag...seriously! Unfortunately, they both lost to Russians.) U-S-A! U-S-A!

On the men's side, the field appears to be upset-free, as the draw held up entirely. One semifinal match will feature Roger Federer (1) and Marat Safin (4), while the other semifinal is a match-up between Andy Roddick (2) and Lleyton Hewitt (3). Look for Federer in the final, since nobody can beat him. The Roddick (USA!)-Hewitt match should be an entertaining one, as Hewitt will have his Aussie countrymen cheering for him, wrestling crocodiles, and singing Waltzing Matilda, or whatever it is they do.

We'll be right back with the weather. Stay tuned.

oscar noms! hurrah!

2005-01-25T10:58:00.000-05:00

Well, I never updated yesterday, but the news keeps a'comin, so what can you do. I mean, what is there to say about a blizzard anyway? There's lots of snow, shoveling isn't too much fun, and the roads and sidewalks are mad slippery. Also, it's supposed to snow another 1-3 inches tonight and tomorrow. Yeehaw.

More importantly (in my world), the nominations for the 77th Academy Awards have been announced! Here are the Cliff's Notes: The Aviator, Million Dollar Baby, Ray, Finding Neverland, and Sideways. I'd also recommend Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind -- not only is it an excellent film, but you also get to hear Kate Winslet do an American accent. I just love it when the Brits (and Aussies, e.g. Naomi Watts in 21 Grams) do the Yankee accent! Ooh, you should see Maria Full of Grace, too -- such a touching, poignant and naturalistic debut film for the writer/director and lead actress. And don't forget 13 Going on 30 -- because sometimes all these Oscar dramas can really bum you out. Plus, who doesn't like Jennifer Garner's dimples? Anyway, let the betting pool begin!

gettin' lucky in the city of brotherly love

2005-01-24T10:58:00.000-05:00

So I went to Philadelphia for a business conference (sounds so professional, right?) last week, and it was way less painful than I anticipated. In fact, parts of it were even fun. The lesson is, if you set your expectations really really low and have an overall cynical view about things, maybe sometimes, things won't suck as much as you think they will. Now why don't I ever find messages like that in my fortune cookies? Anyway, so these conference things are kind of like a big expo - all of these companies who assist businesses in my line of work set up booths and such and try to entice us to work with them. They have giveaways of all kinds of fun office stuff, like erasable highlighters (they really work!), delicious mints, and stress balls. It's kind of reminiscent of the corporate recruiting stuff that went on in college -- "well, Consulting Group A - I wasn't sure if I wanted to work for you, but now that you're handing out rubber balls that light up when they bounce, I'm positive that you're the place for me!" So, in addition to those wild and wacky handouts, they also had some raffles going -- one for a set of martini glasses, and the grand prize, an iPod mini. Like any good conference attendee, I collected my free pens and tote bags, and I dropped my business card into the raffles. I listened to some speeches, gorged myself with the breakfasts, lunches, and snacks they provided, and doodled my name a few times to feign note-taking. At the end of the two-day conference, my co-workers and I stopped by the booths to find out the raffle results. "Who won the iPod?" I inquired. "d," he responded. "No way! But I'm d!" I exclaimed. I looked down at the nametag on my chest and said, "Wait a minute, are you just reading my nametag?" He laughed and said, "Nope. I drew the winning card myself. You know, over 100 people put their cards in there."

And he handed me the official sheet that said "d is our big winner!" That's right, my friends. Who's the big winner? d's the big winner! How crazy?! Now I own a cute little blue iPod mini. Ok, but here's the thing. I wasn't even that surprised. It sounds weird, I know, but I kind of expected to win. Don't ask me why - it's not my style, and I don't ever win things like this. (Maybe I should play the lottery?) Of course, upon hearing this great news, my usual cynical self immediately thought "Well, I hope I didn't just use up my good luck for a while." But I decided to try something new, and instead determined that maybe this small victory is actually evidence of some good karma and the sign of some more good things to come.

Epilogue: I was right! Another good thing did happen. On the way to the train station, we drove past the Real World Philly house! That's right, we saw the Real World house accidentally and fortuitously (as opposed to the one in New Orleans that my friends and I visited on purpose. What a dump, by the way). No stupid curly boys in sight (as they're long gone), but hey, the luck keeps coming. Maybe it's just Philly - they won some big football game this weekend too.

Ok, enough navel-gazing. Hopefully I'll have a chance to comment on Johnny Carson, Donald Trump's wedding, and the blizzard a bit later. (By the way, the northeast wasn't the only place suffering from winter weather. Poor unprepared south.)

let the river run

2005-01-19T13:35:00.000-05:00

Apparently, working long hours has more side effects than I anticipated. Not only will a job seriously infringe upon your leisure time (Exhibit A -- I can't really post today, and I'm going away on business tomorrow and Friday. My apologies to my loyal readership), but there can be some other severe disadvantages. For example, you might not get to watch lots of TV and this could happen to you! (I think it's happening to me! I'm so behind in all things pop culture [well, relatively speaking] that the subject of this post is a reference to Working Girl, a movie that is way old.) Alas.

i heart the golden globes

2005-01-18T18:26:00.000-05:00

Since art cannot be duplicated (well, if it is, it's called plagiarism), I am not going to attempt to recover my wondrous review of the Golden Globes. The point is that I *wrote* it, right, not that anyone read it? But since the Golden Globes are usually my favorite award show ever, what with the perfect synergy of movies and television, I feel that I should reflect on them a little bit. So, here are some things I was thinking as I watched the Globes on Martin Luther King Jr. Day Eve.

- Star Jones Reynolds is the devil. Or maybe she just sold her soul to the devil. Seriously, where did she learn how to interview? Why did E! decide to give her another shot? She was awful the last time, and she was awful this time, too. And why does she insist on putting on a blaccent anytime she speaks to a black performer? I actually began to miss Joan & Melissa (and apparently the TV Guide Channel doesn't exist in the tri-state area). Thankfully, Kathy Griffin was there to save the day. I particularly enjoyed her asking the big movie stars, "So who do you think is going to win The Amazing Race?" and "Have you ever ordered a hooker at this hotel?"
- Mariska Hargitay has a great sense of humor. She totally played along when Kathy Griffin asked her, "Who do you think will get the drunkest tonight?" Mariska reflected and responded, "Jeremy Piven?" to which Kathy replied "Yeah, that's a safe bet." I only wish that Mariska had thought to wear a bra. Her acceptance speech moment was quite unfortunate because the cameraman was clearly distracted by the fact that she was smuggling raisins.
- Natalie Portman is not as smart as I thought she was. Perhaps she spent too much time with the Harvard fun czar? I mean, you know she's been practicing the acceptance speech for the past ten years (as all of us have) - is this really the best she can do?
- Ok, Jennifer Garner - I'm a big fan and all, but why didn't you bring Ben Affleck as your date? We've seen US Weekly, you're not fooling anyone, so why not give the People (get it?) what they want?
- Thank goodness that Jamie Foxx and Hilary Swank won by the end of the evening. They both had multiple nominations and they both lost the first few. I was concerned that they wouldn't be able to keep up the "loser smile" for the entire night. Thankfully, they didn't have to, and they proceeded to give two of the best speeches of the evening (in my opinion, natch).
- I really hope that Teri Hatcher doesn't get a diva complex since she was singled out from all of the Desperate Housewives as the big winner. I like her and all, but I was actually pulling for either Felicity Huffman or Marcia Cross. I think Teri Hatcher won because her character has the Carrie Bradshaw syndrome, i.e. most of the show's viewers will undoubtedly think "I'm such a Susan."
- Meryl Streep is the best ever. That obviously requires no further explanation or snarky comments.
- What exactly is that a tattoo of on Virginia Madsen's arm? It's weird and colorful and should be covered up at future award shows. Call me old-fashioned...
- Robin Williams was surprisingly subdued. I expected him to bounce off the walls. I did notice that his film reel omitted Toys, Flubber, and Death to Smoochy. Also, his kids did not appear pleased or happy at all. Actually, neither did his wife. Come to think of it, neither did he. Hmm.
- Why was there no "here are the people who died this year" retrospective? I thought that was a fixture at all award shows so the people at home knew which dead celebrities won Heaven's Popularity Contest.
- I was pleased that there was no band or music speeding up the speeches. I actually things went more smoothly without that music because nobody had to waste time saying "Oh, they're telling me to get off the stage" or "They're about to start playing music" or "I can't believe time is running out already" and such other pearls of wisdom.
- Charlize Theron is kind of scary with dark hair. Smack a tattoo on her upper arm, and she's Angelina Jolie.
- Was it really necessary to take an extra 30 seconds and that weird "whoosh" special effect to emphasize the titles of the comedy TV shows? Couldn't they have put in a little funny clip/punchline. You know that everyone in the audience would laugh because that award was near the end of the night and everyone had been getting all liquored up until then.
- The post-awards E! interviewing brothel was truly truly worthless. None of these anonymous brunettes with generic names could figure out how to string together a coherent sentence. But they were still better than Star Jones Reynolds.

ack!

2005-01-18T14:21:00.000-05:00

I just wrote a lengthy and brilliant post about the Golden Globes and it somehow disappeared. I should do my actual job now, but perhaps I will try to revive my genius-like musings later today. Damn Tuesdays.

on college-y things

2005-01-14T12:03:00.000-05:00

As if there was ever any doubt as to the lameness of Harvard University and its students, the powers-that-be in Cambridge have hired a "fun-czar" -- a "go-to guy for students who have ideas about social events but don't have the time or knowledge to navigate the school bureaucracy and bring them to fruition." Um, I don't understand. The university actually pays somebody to do this? Here's some party-planning advice for free. I'll even put it in a mathematical equation so it's in a language those nerdy Harvard kids can understand:

Lame Idea + Alcohol = Fun!

Alternatively, they could check out this sweet-ass frat party. Man, I thought Harvard kids were supposed to be smart. Also, I just get a chuckle out of the whole "organized fun" idea. I am picturing these kids' Palm Pilots/Blackberries:

7 am - study
9 am - class
12 pm - lunch
12: 30 - study
2 pm - class
4 pm - study
7 pm - dinner
7:30 pm - study
9: 30 pm - have fun
10 pm – sleep

Finally, might I suggest that those unfortunate Harvard-folk attend an event such as the one I attended last night -- the folks from The Daily Show read excerpts from their hilarious (and educational, you bookish Crimson types) text, America: The Book. Their interpretation of their tome was quite humorous: even the typically stone-faced Stephen Colbert broke down laughing while trying to provide examples of "appropriate media names." (For example, if you are an Asian reporter, the formula for your TV name is Walton child [first name] + Sound you make when hit in the solar plexus [last name]; if you are an anchorman, your TV name should be Building Material [first name] + Breed of Horses [last name]. E.g. JohnBoy Huuh and Brick Clydesdale, respectively). The Daily Show peeps also did a Q & A, and damn! are they quick and witty. I think this was my favorite:

Q: If you could ask George W. Bush one question on your show, what would it be?
A (Jon Stewart, without missing a beat): Why are you on my show?

j.j. abrams is one messed up dude

2005-01-13T11:35:00.000-05:00

To give you an idea about how effed up Lost was last night, the episode included extortion and incest, and then things started getting weird. Ok, so first, J.J. revealed the creepiest backstory to date. We're told that Boone and Shannon are technically are not brother and sister, but are actually step-siblings. We also learn that Shannon is not the damsel-in-distress she appears to be. Girlfriend is one sneaky bitch! Apparently, she repeatedly scammed her lovesick (more on that later) stepbrother by pretending to be abused by a series of boyfriends. In each case, Boone would come to the rescue and "pay off" the boyfriend to leave Shannon forever. Joke's on Boone because Shannon would then split the proceeds with her "abusive" boyfriend. Like I said - sneaky bitch. Sayid better watch his back.

A flashback then shows drunk Shannon telling Boone that she knows he is in love with her...and they get it on! Step-siblings or not, considering the fact that they were raised in the same household since childhood, this might as well be incest. This "not-really-related" loophole didn't work for me in The Royal Tenenbaums (although there, Margot & Richie were full siblings, but Margot was adopted. Still creepy.), and it gave me the heebie-jeebies last night, too.

Back on the island in the present, Locke flattens Boone, ties him up, and puts some gooey stuff on his head. A dazed Boone hears Shannon screaming and frees himself to save her. They engage in a massive escape scene, reminiscent of Jurassic Park, and Shannon tells Boone that Locke had tied her up too. They run and run, but Shannon is caught and attacked by that bizarre monster thing, and she dies in his arms. Boone runs back to camp and tries to beat up Locke for causing his sister's death, Locke says, "Hold up, playa! There's no blood on you! Plus, the bitch is right there frolicking with Sayid." In other words, She. Is. Not. Dead.

Locke is all "Ah, so that's what it made you see" and Boone is all "WTF?" Locke goes all Mr. Miyagi and refuses to explain himself, but indicates that the gooey stuff caused Boone to manifest his own reality. So Shannon was never tied up and was never in danger and there was never a monster. Damn, that's some good gooey stuff. All I know is that they better keep that shit away from Charlie. I mean, the dude just kicked his heroin habit. Anyway, to add the final note of creepiness, Locke asks Boone how he felt when he thought Shannon was dead, and Boone says...relieved. And Locke smiles approvingly. Creeeeepy.

Seriously, how does J.J. come up with this stuff? Plus, he's responsible for the wonder that is Alias, but that rave will have to wait for another time.

In other news, Prince Harry thinks Nazis are hilarious.