Yeah I know, I'm late AND I dropped the ball on Friday, many apologies are in order. But really, after watching over 6 hours worth of movies in one night on a giant screen (at the drive-in) I really didn't think I could handle 6 min looking at my comp screen.
For those of you who are fortunate to have one near you, take advantage of a drive-in. I know that they are rare, but check out websites and see if you can find one near you. Joe and I try at least to visit once a summer, so we were lucky that we were both free and AND they had movies we were actually interested in seeing (and at $8 for a triple feature, its a much better deal anyway).
Of course the movies are supposed to be the main attraction, but the real entertainment is in the Intermission. Besides the absolutely over-the-top gee-willickers-that-sounds-swell-ness of it (which is def good for some laughs) you really can't help but feel the history that is encapsulated within that little field. People from our parents generation were sitting right where we were in huge cars borrowed from their parents, watching these same ads and coming attractions. It seems like such a wholly American idea, and it probably is (I'm sure other countries had drive-ins but still).
And I'm sure our American rotund reputation wasn't exactly diverted with the constant onslaught of ads for the damn snack bar. Ice cream, hot dogs, candy, soda, it's amazing the baby-boomers didn't wipe out as quickly as they came. My favorite is when they talk about "tasty and nutritious" hot dogs. It's like that Simpson's episode where they show the film at the Duff Brewery about how Duff fills you with "good wholesome beer goodness". And we wonder why we have things in existence like people-movers.
Sadly, as I remember discovering the first time at the drive-in, they actually need people to buy from the snack bar. In fact, that's really how they make their money. So I usually do my patriotic duty and buy a good gallon of popcorn and try to work it off later by skipping or pushing the car home. Oh well, what's a few thousand calories when a piece of Americana is at stake.
Oh and let me just diverge here for a second and yell at the people who insist on not only bringing their children to an R-rated movie, but then REFUSE to leave after the kid has made it clear that they do NOT want to be there. I don't care if you spent the last of your babysitter money on beer, sit your ass home with your kids and watch Spongebob. Cuz it's distracting to the rest of us who are trying to enjoy the ghastly violence or raunchy sex-scenes. Allow me to explain...
A few weeks ago we went to see the movie Kick-Ass. Yes, I thought it was a kiddie-movie when I first saw the previews too...AU CONTRARY. So we're sitting there, gettin into it (btw, it gets major points for making a 7 year old girl look like the freaking Bride from Kill Bill--brutal yet benevolent), when we here the sounds of little voices behind us. Someone actually brought their kids into the movie...Let's see, what should be the first tip that this movie MIGHT be inappropriate for your youngster: the stabbing? the exploding bodies? the sailor-language? the masturbation? No? Hey congrats, you just won yourself a disturbed little mental-case who'll torture squirrels. (Ok, so maybe many of you have seen worse when you were kids, but just stand-up and be proud to be the grown-up mental cases that you are).
So that was one thing. And then, at the aforementioned drive-in we were parked next to an SUV with a family with this little girl. She couldn't have been older than 5, which is the dead-on right age for the first movie we saw ("How to Train Your Dragon"). But once that concluded around 10:30, wouldn't they, nay, SHOULDN'T they take the hint and get their kid to bed? Naah, let's keep her up to watch the oh-so-stellar "The Bounty Hunter", and follow it up with a nice big helping of "Hot Tub Time Machine". At first the kid was annoying me with her whining but then I felt sorry for her. Wake the fuck up parents, your kid is bored and, I dunno, 8 hrs past her bedtime?? She kept running into the radio pole and falling down, which then led to crying for a good half-hour.
It made me wonder back to the old nostalgia I was feeling before. Then it was a tradition, now its a novelty. Then, it was a way to be away from your parents and yet safe in your car to do all kinds of mischievous shenanigans (I daresay many of us were conceived right there while your parents were "watching" Xanadu). Now, its like a midnight playground for kids to run around while their parents try to have a night out. Or, like it is for me, a place where we can just temporarily step back into the days of Chilly Dilly Pickles or previews for "Frogs". At least, for two hours...
Monday, May 3, 2010
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Check Your Genitals at the Door
Let me preempt by saying that other than my few years in elementary school as a clarinet player, I have never been a musician. And granted, my taste in music is often questioned by others. But I've known what I liked for a long time now, and it hasn't changed much since my adolescence. (I tend to get a little frustrated when I meet a person who says they like a little bit of everything, esp b/c I know I have said that once or twice. But when I really thought about it, there's actually very little I like. I tend to stick with what has always worked for me, deeming a very select group of bands as acceptable. Maybe that means I'm close-minded and other people who like "everything" are more forgiving and adventurous. Whatever, I know what I like, and what I like is awesome.)
I tend to think about this alot, esp at work. We're allowed to wear headphones, so often I'll put on 98 Rock to listen to the Morning Show and then leave it on until the 12 Noon Hairball starts. But let me tell you, it is PAINFUL waiting and listening to the pop-rock crap that's being shoved down our throats. I have lovingly dubbed many of these as "Fighting" songs (a.k.a. songs that I can undoubtedly hear being on the movie Fighting soundtrack). These are your typical faux-angry songs, meant to rile you up and drink hard and eventually puke on your way to the dorm.
The other option is the panty-wetting songs that I can only guess were developed by frat-boy record execs to make dumb girls show their boobs and act slutty thinking its being "hard" or "badass." It doesn't ladies. Trust me (I was in college too once, and learned my lesson.) And guys: if you want to be deep and meaningful than get your penis out of your music. Cuz we're not impressed with either.
Now before I start hearing, "ohh but you like HAIR METAL, isn't that the epitome of useless music?", let me say this. I love hair metal and monster ballads. But I love them because it's what feels right for me (and yes I have moved away from the obvious panty-wetter songs of the genre). For some reason that kind of music speaks to something in my soul. (And if the aforementioned bands do it for you...REALLY do it for you, then God bless) Plus listen to some blistering guitar riffs and massive head-exploding high pitch screams and then tell me that it's bland and pointless. I love how the voices and instruments almost become one, how the guys sound like girls and girls sound like harbour seals during mating season. What can I say, it's my music.
On that musical note, Joe and I went to see some bands tonite at the Senator. I really shouldn't say bands--it was more like one and a half bands, and then three singing acts. We went to see Joe's friend's band play but since they weren't on yet, we sat in the seats and listened to the first performers. Ho-ly crap. I thought I was in the 7th circle of hell.
The first kid (and I do mean "kid", he couldn't have been older than 17) was a country singer from Nashville. No band, no guitar. Just him, his big cream-colored Stetson, and a back-up track. He bobbed and tried awkwardly to get the audience to clap with him as he crooned out one generic country song after another.
Then came a trio of brothers that were somewhere between a mix of BBMack, Fall Out Boy, and Hanson. They lost me the second they said, "Hey who's here to have a good time??" And then when they wanted to "teach the audience to sing along", I had to swallow some bile.
Then came another pop-country singer who was a Miley Cyrus rip-off. Very apple-pie yet you knew she prob had an inner freak side. Her death toll came in the form of one or her songs that might has well been called "Freedom Isn't Free," about "the working class American." I'm not saying that's a bad theme, but come on. Shouldn't she be sponsored by Coors Light and Nascar?
Then came another pop singer who was more of a Beyonce knock-off. But she had the pipes so I'll let her slide.
Thankfully, at last Joe's friend's, Elise Major (sp?) and her band came on. Now THIS is a girl that gives me hope for rock musicians that are female...and brings me to the title of tonite's blog. Like I said, I'm no musician or songwriter. But it seems to me that women are JUST AS capable to write amazing songs and kick ass on stage, but they need to check their vaginas at the door. Music should never be about gender. Sure we may experience different things, but it's about the art form. In a way, it should never be about you: it should be about what you have to say. Don't try to be pretty all the time. Scream, throw your head back, thrash the guitar, make your fingernails bleed. We have to claim more of the rock music frontier. Reject the title of "female singer" or "female drummer." No, you are a singer. You are a drummer. And I was happy to hear Elise b/c she showed me it IS possible.
So girls get out there. Wear a shitty old T-shirt. Skip the lipstick. Because most men are idiots and refuse to acknowledge women as musicians or comedians. I'm not saying we have to hate being female. It's a fine gender. But for god's sakes don't forget why you have that guitar or bass in your hands.
Of course these are the opinions of a person who loves music by guys who DO wear lipstick and act glam...so what do I know?
I tend to think about this alot, esp at work. We're allowed to wear headphones, so often I'll put on 98 Rock to listen to the Morning Show and then leave it on until the 12 Noon Hairball starts. But let me tell you, it is PAINFUL waiting and listening to the pop-rock crap that's being shoved down our throats. I have lovingly dubbed many of these as "Fighting" songs (a.k.a. songs that I can undoubtedly hear being on the movie Fighting soundtrack). These are your typical faux-angry songs, meant to rile you up and drink hard and eventually puke on your way to the dorm.
The other option is the panty-wetting songs that I can only guess were developed by frat-boy record execs to make dumb girls show their boobs and act slutty thinking its being "hard" or "badass." It doesn't ladies. Trust me (I was in college too once, and learned my lesson.) And guys: if you want to be deep and meaningful than get your penis out of your music. Cuz we're not impressed with either.
Now before I start hearing, "ohh but you like HAIR METAL, isn't that the epitome of useless music?", let me say this. I love hair metal and monster ballads. But I love them because it's what feels right for me (and yes I have moved away from the obvious panty-wetter songs of the genre). For some reason that kind of music speaks to something in my soul. (And if the aforementioned bands do it for you...REALLY do it for you, then God bless) Plus listen to some blistering guitar riffs and massive head-exploding high pitch screams and then tell me that it's bland and pointless. I love how the voices and instruments almost become one, how the guys sound like girls and girls sound like harbour seals during mating season. What can I say, it's my music.
On that musical note, Joe and I went to see some bands tonite at the Senator. I really shouldn't say bands--it was more like one and a half bands, and then three singing acts. We went to see Joe's friend's band play but since they weren't on yet, we sat in the seats and listened to the first performers. Ho-ly crap. I thought I was in the 7th circle of hell.
The first kid (and I do mean "kid", he couldn't have been older than 17) was a country singer from Nashville. No band, no guitar. Just him, his big cream-colored Stetson, and a back-up track. He bobbed and tried awkwardly to get the audience to clap with him as he crooned out one generic country song after another.
Then came a trio of brothers that were somewhere between a mix of BBMack, Fall Out Boy, and Hanson. They lost me the second they said, "Hey who's here to have a good time??" And then when they wanted to "teach the audience to sing along", I had to swallow some bile.
Then came another pop-country singer who was a Miley Cyrus rip-off. Very apple-pie yet you knew she prob had an inner freak side. Her death toll came in the form of one or her songs that might has well been called "Freedom Isn't Free," about "the working class American." I'm not saying that's a bad theme, but come on. Shouldn't she be sponsored by Coors Light and Nascar?
Then came another pop singer who was more of a Beyonce knock-off. But she had the pipes so I'll let her slide.
Thankfully, at last Joe's friend's, Elise Major (sp?) and her band came on. Now THIS is a girl that gives me hope for rock musicians that are female...and brings me to the title of tonite's blog. Like I said, I'm no musician or songwriter. But it seems to me that women are JUST AS capable to write amazing songs and kick ass on stage, but they need to check their vaginas at the door. Music should never be about gender. Sure we may experience different things, but it's about the art form. In a way, it should never be about you: it should be about what you have to say. Don't try to be pretty all the time. Scream, throw your head back, thrash the guitar, make your fingernails bleed. We have to claim more of the rock music frontier. Reject the title of "female singer" or "female drummer." No, you are a singer. You are a drummer. And I was happy to hear Elise b/c she showed me it IS possible.
So girls get out there. Wear a shitty old T-shirt. Skip the lipstick. Because most men are idiots and refuse to acknowledge women as musicians or comedians. I'm not saying we have to hate being female. It's a fine gender. But for god's sakes don't forget why you have that guitar or bass in your hands.
Of course these are the opinions of a person who loves music by guys who DO wear lipstick and act glam...so what do I know?
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Tempin' Ain't Easy
Oh wait a minute, yes it IS!
For anyone keeping score, the past two years were rough career-wise for me. As grateful for the teaching and educational experience I am, it's not a secret that I'd wake up dreading the day. I couldn't really enjoy Fridays because ALL I would think about would be the fact that I'd have to be back there again and face another whole week in only 48 hours.
But, not wanting to be a quitter, I stuck it out. And when that last bell rang (or in our case the walkie talkie buzzed--that's another whole blog), and gathered up the rest of my stuff, I looked back at the school like the Tower of Terror at Disney--it gave me stomach-wrenching nerve pains before, made me terrified during, but proud that I endured and Goddamn grateful I never have to do it again.
Of course then the issue was money (and of course, figuring out what the hell to do with my life before I die). After tracking down a few job leads and attending a job fair, I began to slightly panic. Throughout the summer I was trying to collect odd jobs to somehow make a complete one...working at DSW, trying to edit and write for a woman's up-and-coming website, even trying to sell newspaper subscriptions at the local Shoppers (yeah that one was painful).
I remember telling Joe what I was looking for. "I just want a job right now that I don't have to feel too stressed about, make enough money to support myself with some savings, and give me some stability." Little did I know, like a little wide-eyed child that my wish would be granted by the Job Fairy.
As luck would have it I was on the LightRail with my friend Erica coming back from seeing Dionne Warwick during Artscape in the city and we were talking about our job situations. Suddenly a girl sitting a few seats away broke into our conversation...
"Are you looking for a job?" she said.
"Yeah, I am actually," I said. I didn't care if she was gonna offer me a spot of territory on the corner or storing crack in my butt, I was getting down to my last bit of savings.
"You know, I was having a hard time finding work too. You should try this temp agency. They set me up with a great job with the potential to hire plus benefits," she said jotting down a number on my notebook.
I really wasn't expecting what I got. After one random job and interview, I got a call from the girl at the agency with my dream temp job.
"It's great pay, laid back environment, and brisk commute." Sign me UP. It didn't take long for this job to get even better. The people are awesome and like to do stuff. I get a nice project that I can work on at a normal pace, and even occasionally surf the Internet.
So like a hair-regrowing product or weight-loss program, know that these results are not typical, but for me they're AWESOME. If you are looking for work, head to a temp agency. I have to agree with Mike Nelson from MST3K..."Tempin's great, man."
(Alright, I'll be honest...part of the reason I wanted to write this particular blog was because I really wanted to use the title. It was such a gem when I thought of it, I swear these puns are my art form of choice.)
P.S. Just had some more good luck despite this comp being weird. It decided to freeze right in the middle of doing some editing that was pissin me off AND it just decided to shut down while I was writing. But BOTH times it automatically saved what I was doing! God, where's the meteor that's gonna hit me, cuz this can't last...
For anyone keeping score, the past two years were rough career-wise for me. As grateful for the teaching and educational experience I am, it's not a secret that I'd wake up dreading the day. I couldn't really enjoy Fridays because ALL I would think about would be the fact that I'd have to be back there again and face another whole week in only 48 hours.
But, not wanting to be a quitter, I stuck it out. And when that last bell rang (or in our case the walkie talkie buzzed--that's another whole blog), and gathered up the rest of my stuff, I looked back at the school like the Tower of Terror at Disney--it gave me stomach-wrenching nerve pains before, made me terrified during, but proud that I endured and Goddamn grateful I never have to do it again.
Of course then the issue was money (and of course, figuring out what the hell to do with my life before I die). After tracking down a few job leads and attending a job fair, I began to slightly panic. Throughout the summer I was trying to collect odd jobs to somehow make a complete one...working at DSW, trying to edit and write for a woman's up-and-coming website, even trying to sell newspaper subscriptions at the local Shoppers (yeah that one was painful).
I remember telling Joe what I was looking for. "I just want a job right now that I don't have to feel too stressed about, make enough money to support myself with some savings, and give me some stability." Little did I know, like a little wide-eyed child that my wish would be granted by the Job Fairy.
As luck would have it I was on the LightRail with my friend Erica coming back from seeing Dionne Warwick during Artscape in the city and we were talking about our job situations. Suddenly a girl sitting a few seats away broke into our conversation...
"Are you looking for a job?" she said.
"Yeah, I am actually," I said. I didn't care if she was gonna offer me a spot of territory on the corner or storing crack in my butt, I was getting down to my last bit of savings.
"You know, I was having a hard time finding work too. You should try this temp agency. They set me up with a great job with the potential to hire plus benefits," she said jotting down a number on my notebook.
I really wasn't expecting what I got. After one random job and interview, I got a call from the girl at the agency with my dream temp job.
"It's great pay, laid back environment, and brisk commute." Sign me UP. It didn't take long for this job to get even better. The people are awesome and like to do stuff. I get a nice project that I can work on at a normal pace, and even occasionally surf the Internet.
So like a hair-regrowing product or weight-loss program, know that these results are not typical, but for me they're AWESOME. If you are looking for work, head to a temp agency. I have to agree with Mike Nelson from MST3K..."Tempin's great, man."
(Alright, I'll be honest...part of the reason I wanted to write this particular blog was because I really wanted to use the title. It was such a gem when I thought of it, I swear these puns are my art form of choice.)
P.S. Just had some more good luck despite this comp being weird. It decided to freeze right in the middle of doing some editing that was pissin me off AND it just decided to shut down while I was writing. But BOTH times it automatically saved what I was doing! God, where's the meteor that's gonna hit me, cuz this can't last...
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Stream On
I'm not gonna lie. I kinda don't feel like writing tonite. In fact, I've been having a hard time motivating myself at all today. And yet, I think I've been pretty productive: worked, made meatloaf for dinner, edited...and now writing. So since I'm lacking cute little wordplays and puns, I'm gonna pull out a blogger's failsafe--the old stream of consciousness.
I'm watching Chopped right now, and becoming amazed at really how many food products I simply don't find appetizing. Oyster sauce? It reminds me of clam juice. Not that I've ever had either but it doesn't really sound like something you want to slurp through a straw does it? My first boyfriend Mike introduced me to a couple of odd sodas. One was a kind he LOVED called Manhattan Special, a.k.a. coffee-flavored soda. Even just thinking about that takes me right back to being 16, sitting in the front seat of his BMW, cruising around Red Bank or down to the pier in Highlands. I was getting lost in my memories of him the other day too actually when Billy Joel's "New York State of Mind" came up on my iPod.
Anyway, the other soda he introduced me to, and hopefully I will never taste it again, was a celery soda. If you can imagine carbonated grass clippings, you're right about there. Ugh.
I hate tofu too. I think it's partly a consistency thing (little brick sponges) but it doesn't seem to have much flavor. I mention this because one of the ingredients was something called tofu skin. Was that necessary to create? I'm sure it's the kind of thing that if you know what you're doing then it can be tasty, but I'll pass for now.
Ok, no more Chopped. I shouldn't even be watching Food Network. I'm dying for a 11 p.m. snack, but seeing as how I quite literally ate half a meatloaf with mashed potatoes, I prob don't need that small bag of Cheetos.
Oh, and btw my throat is STILL sore. I had strep about three weeks ago, and before you ask, YES i did take all the medication. but it feels like Mike Tyson's Knockout (or is it Punchout? Game-nerds, help me out here)...the medicine was in the process of a KO when it took a gulp of water and at the last second the illness got back up and smashed medicine's jaw.
I did think tho that maybe it had something to do with the way I have been sleeping. You ever notice how your sleep habits change? I used to always be a side-sleeper. Then around college I found myself always pulling myself onto my stomach. Then I couldn't sleep without putting a pillow, comforter or something else between my knees (Insert Inappropriate Quip Here). Now I have to physically hold my extra pillow in my arms. I wonder what that means...
Now I'm watching Will & Grace. I used to really love this show and find it hilarious. But I watch it now and its kinda borderline annoying. The jokes can be seen coming a long way (and ironically this is where the writers would probably make Jack pop out saying something obvious about "coming" and "long"). But it's this or Golden Girls...and I still have a few years before I can quote this as well.
And now it's midnight. Well guys, sorry if this one was kind of a dud. I'll try to be more on my game tomorrow. Until then, goodnight my magical three!
I'm watching Chopped right now, and becoming amazed at really how many food products I simply don't find appetizing. Oyster sauce? It reminds me of clam juice. Not that I've ever had either but it doesn't really sound like something you want to slurp through a straw does it? My first boyfriend Mike introduced me to a couple of odd sodas. One was a kind he LOVED called Manhattan Special, a.k.a. coffee-flavored soda. Even just thinking about that takes me right back to being 16, sitting in the front seat of his BMW, cruising around Red Bank or down to the pier in Highlands. I was getting lost in my memories of him the other day too actually when Billy Joel's "New York State of Mind" came up on my iPod.
Anyway, the other soda he introduced me to, and hopefully I will never taste it again, was a celery soda. If you can imagine carbonated grass clippings, you're right about there. Ugh.
I hate tofu too. I think it's partly a consistency thing (little brick sponges) but it doesn't seem to have much flavor. I mention this because one of the ingredients was something called tofu skin. Was that necessary to create? I'm sure it's the kind of thing that if you know what you're doing then it can be tasty, but I'll pass for now.
Ok, no more Chopped. I shouldn't even be watching Food Network. I'm dying for a 11 p.m. snack, but seeing as how I quite literally ate half a meatloaf with mashed potatoes, I prob don't need that small bag of Cheetos.
Oh, and btw my throat is STILL sore. I had strep about three weeks ago, and before you ask, YES i did take all the medication. but it feels like Mike Tyson's Knockout (or is it Punchout? Game-nerds, help me out here)...the medicine was in the process of a KO when it took a gulp of water and at the last second the illness got back up and smashed medicine's jaw.
I did think tho that maybe it had something to do with the way I have been sleeping. You ever notice how your sleep habits change? I used to always be a side-sleeper. Then around college I found myself always pulling myself onto my stomach. Then I couldn't sleep without putting a pillow, comforter or something else between my knees (Insert Inappropriate Quip Here). Now I have to physically hold my extra pillow in my arms. I wonder what that means...
Now I'm watching Will & Grace. I used to really love this show and find it hilarious. But I watch it now and its kinda borderline annoying. The jokes can be seen coming a long way (and ironically this is where the writers would probably make Jack pop out saying something obvious about "coming" and "long"). But it's this or Golden Girls...and I still have a few years before I can quote this as well.
And now it's midnight. Well guys, sorry if this one was kind of a dud. I'll try to be more on my game tomorrow. Until then, goodnight my magical three!
Monday, April 26, 2010
Mundane, Monday (Thoughts)
This day was seriously kicking my ass. Not because of anything bad, but because it was so damn dreary and cold, I felt like I was in a Charles Dickens novel, except there were no foppish characters and homeless children.
As a result of the weather, and the fact that my job tends to be monotonous my brain can't help but wander. The oddest things kinda came to mind, and I thought I'd share...
1.) The Seriously Little Mermaid- I'm not sure if this was ever brought to attention but seeing as how everyone already knows the urban legend of the perv priest, this probably isn't terribly shocking. But still...She was 16! You thought we would forget that in the span of 90 mins, Disney? I don't care how charming that damn crab and fish are, you don't stack a red-headed minor's clam shells like that (with a waist that could slip through bagel). As if girls didn't have enough impossible standards, they gotta deal with a freaking drawing. That's bad enough but then she gets married? I know, I used to think Eric was a hot too, but when you look at him closely, doesn't he look like he might be pushing towards 30? What is this, a movie for kids or a pitch for Lifetime Movie Network? I'm probably reading too into this...at least the gold penis castle is cool.
2.) Puppies with plural names instantly get cuter AND way funnier- Consider: a dog named Jet or a dog named Sprinkles. You can not help but laugh and smile for Sprinkles. I thought about this after doing more puppy-hunting and found a dog named Snickers. I broke out into the biggest smile, it was almost good enough reason to fill out the application (except for the adoption fee...and that whole lifetime commitment thing). It really works for any plural noun...Peaches, Bubbles, or Smuckers (yes, with a name like Smuckers it has to be ADORABLE)
3.) Whatever happened to Hitler's body? This isn't so much a funny thought, I was seriously trying to go through my brain to figure out if I had ever learned what happened to him but I really don't think I did. You'd think for something so major as the death of one of the most treacherous human beings that ever crossed the earth would be well-documented. I'd be curious to hear the conspiracy theories that are associated with this. I'm sure I could find some stuff about it online, but I'm too lazy (plus I felt a little weird just looking for this picture. I figure if I ever end up dead and the CSIs decide to go through my computer records they will for some reason assume I was involved with a skinhead group). So if anyone out there does know what happened to his body, I'd like to know. Ok, my hair is being pulled out in this towel, which I guess is my version of the music that plays at the conclusion of Dr. Katz's sessions (if you get THAT reference, I am impressed). Good night fair readers...
Saturday, April 24, 2010
Everything is Coming Up Milhouse...
First off, let me say hello and welcome to the...that's right...SECOND follower for this blog. Ahh, it feels good to be a winner...
Unfortunately, however, I am having a hard time thinking of something to write tonite. I'm gonna try and maintain writing every weekday (incl Friday), but last night was a little too crazy. So I guess I'll write about today, a.k.a. MY day.
You ever see that episode of CSI where everything goes Hodges way? He finds the dollar on the ground, that chick who looks like she came off a toothpaste ad from the 90s smiles at him, he gets three bags of chips from that single aforementioned dollar in the machine, all to finally come together when he solves the mystery of the Miniature Killer. (And I apologize for the massive spoiler if there was one). That was basically my day today.
At first it didn't start well. Last night we had plans with another couple at their apartment and as the wine kept coming my phone slipped out and I didn't notice till we were on our way home. (I don't why, but when I've had a couple drinks I am obsessed with making sure my essentials: wallet, car keys, phone, lip balm, make it back home-I think it's more because I HATE preventable accidents, it just pisses me off) So I went from being sweet towards Joe to being Pissy O'Bitch before we even got home--poor guy.
I was also stressed because Joe was leaving to film a festival in West Virginia so I had to hope that my friend would respond to the text I sent her on Joe's phone before he headed out. Luckily she did, and I was ready to get it. As I was driving my friend Ashley, who is so busy I usually don't get to see her often even though we live a baseball throw away from each other, was on her patio and waving me down. She was trying to call me, but after I explained why I wasn't answering we made plans to hang out at her restaurant after she was done with work. So that made me feel good.
Then, I picked up the phone (+ the case of beer that we originally brought for them but they said they really wouldn't drink it--Score!) and headed to my big mission for the day...finding a gift for my friend Kelly's son birthday. Again, I was feeling stressed. Maybe it's me, but I HATE trying to get gifts for others because I am always worried the person will hate the gift. I know it's incredibly irrational and a waste of worry. But fortunately I have stock piles of worry that are constantly refilled.
I was set at ease with a very pleasant and sweet message from Kelly so again, made my little self-esteem barometer raise a bit. THEN I get to the Babies R' Us (hoping to heaven like hell that his wish list would work there instead of TOYS R US which was way out in Jahomafuck) and (angelic ahhhh) they had the gifts I wanted to give him PLUS it was under my budget. Kick that Ass..
Then, after getting my free bread from Target (thank you coupon) I decided since Joe was not around to say things like, "come on let's go", or "don't you already have something like those?", or "you ever think that shoes are just made to give us bunions so we keep podiatrists in business?" I decided to stop over at DSW. I mean, even though I haven't technically worked there in over a month I did still have my discount card, so wouldn't I be foolish if I DIDN'T get myself a few more pairs of shoes before it ran out/they realized that very fact that I haven't work in over a MONTH. I had no choice if you think about it.
So I found two pairs (that I really did need) and a new bag (ok, I really didn't need that but what the hell). I walked up to the counter and as I pulled out the card I held my breath hoping a red-flashing light wouldn't go off and a massive message didn't flash on the register screen that said "THIS IS NOT AN EMPLOYEE SHE IS SCAMMING YOU OUT OF $20.97 WORTH OF DISCOUNTS". When that didn't happen of course, I walked out the door beaming.
And then finally, after the birthday party, I figured since I was going by my hair salon (and since I haven't had my hair cut since around Thanksgiving) maybe by some miracle they could fit me in. I walk in and the place looks deserted. Not only could I just walk-in, but the girl who cut my hair seemed the most educated and professional stylist I've ever had. She gave me tips on what I ought to be using, helped me figure out what was wrong with my last cut, and even read my mind by adding some layers in the back.
Ahhh, so NOW i am just chillin with my new episode of "It's Me or the Dog," looking forward to tonite. Could my luck turn tomorrow and be a fully-realized nightmare? Will I win the lottery? Guess you'll have to read on Monday...du du duuuuu
Unfortunately, however, I am having a hard time thinking of something to write tonite. I'm gonna try and maintain writing every weekday (incl Friday), but last night was a little too crazy. So I guess I'll write about today, a.k.a. MY day.
You ever see that episode of CSI where everything goes Hodges way? He finds the dollar on the ground, that chick who looks like she came off a toothpaste ad from the 90s smiles at him, he gets three bags of chips from that single aforementioned dollar in the machine, all to finally come together when he solves the mystery of the Miniature Killer. (And I apologize for the massive spoiler if there was one). That was basically my day today.
At first it didn't start well. Last night we had plans with another couple at their apartment and as the wine kept coming my phone slipped out and I didn't notice till we were on our way home. (I don't why, but when I've had a couple drinks I am obsessed with making sure my essentials: wallet, car keys, phone, lip balm, make it back home-I think it's more because I HATE preventable accidents, it just pisses me off) So I went from being sweet towards Joe to being Pissy O'Bitch before we even got home--poor guy.
I was also stressed because Joe was leaving to film a festival in West Virginia so I had to hope that my friend would respond to the text I sent her on Joe's phone before he headed out. Luckily she did, and I was ready to get it. As I was driving my friend Ashley, who is so busy I usually don't get to see her often even though we live a baseball throw away from each other, was on her patio and waving me down. She was trying to call me, but after I explained why I wasn't answering we made plans to hang out at her restaurant after she was done with work. So that made me feel good.
Then, I picked up the phone (+ the case of beer that we originally brought for them but they said they really wouldn't drink it--Score!) and headed to my big mission for the day...finding a gift for my friend Kelly's son birthday. Again, I was feeling stressed. Maybe it's me, but I HATE trying to get gifts for others because I am always worried the person will hate the gift. I know it's incredibly irrational and a waste of worry. But fortunately I have stock piles of worry that are constantly refilled.
I was set at ease with a very pleasant and sweet message from Kelly so again, made my little self-esteem barometer raise a bit. THEN I get to the Babies R' Us (hoping to heaven like hell that his wish list would work there instead of TOYS R US which was way out in Jahomafuck) and (angelic ahhhh) they had the gifts I wanted to give him PLUS it was under my budget. Kick that Ass..
Then, after getting my free bread from Target (thank you coupon) I decided since Joe was not around to say things like, "come on let's go", or "don't you already have something like those?", or "you ever think that shoes are just made to give us bunions so we keep podiatrists in business?" I decided to stop over at DSW. I mean, even though I haven't technically worked there in over a month I did still have my discount card, so wouldn't I be foolish if I DIDN'T get myself a few more pairs of shoes before it ran out/they realized that very fact that I haven't work in over a MONTH. I had no choice if you think about it.
So I found two pairs (that I really did need) and a new bag (ok, I really didn't need that but what the hell). I walked up to the counter and as I pulled out the card I held my breath hoping a red-flashing light wouldn't go off and a massive message didn't flash on the register screen that said "THIS IS NOT AN EMPLOYEE SHE IS SCAMMING YOU OUT OF $20.97 WORTH OF DISCOUNTS". When that didn't happen of course, I walked out the door beaming.
And then finally, after the birthday party, I figured since I was going by my hair salon (and since I haven't had my hair cut since around Thanksgiving) maybe by some miracle they could fit me in. I walk in and the place looks deserted. Not only could I just walk-in, but the girl who cut my hair seemed the most educated and professional stylist I've ever had. She gave me tips on what I ought to be using, helped me figure out what was wrong with my last cut, and even read my mind by adding some layers in the back.
Ahhh, so NOW i am just chillin with my new episode of "It's Me or the Dog," looking forward to tonite. Could my luck turn tomorrow and be a fully-realized nightmare? Will I win the lottery? Guess you'll have to read on Monday...du du duuuuu
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Hottie Baldies
Back when ER was just beginning to get to the height of its popularity I remember my mom once commented on one of the actors. No, not George (though she admitted he was gorgeous). Not Noah Wylie (she said he was cute.) No, the guy she said was Anthony Edwards (or as she called him, "that sexy bald doctor."
Now granted, I was still languishing over an embarrassing crush on Dean Cain at the time, so I couldn't really see what my mom saw in that guy, esp because he was (*gasp) BALD. But now that I'm older and slightly wiser, I can see what she saw in him. Guys are usually so paranoid about losing their hair, but as I was watching SVU I realized that bald men can be just as sexy as hair guys--sometimes even sexier. It got me thinking about compiling a short list of the cutest cue balls out there...
Detective Elliot Stabler-
His smoky stares, his tight angry voice, his gun handling (wink) and ESP the way he slams pedophiles into metal grates...ooh, hottie mchotterstein. Plus you gotta love the episodes where he's working out. He may have lost his hair, but he gains total sex appeal.
John McClane-
I don't really consider myself a "guy-movie" fan, but when I saw Die Hard, I got a serious crush on John McClane (or McClain, whatever, not the point). It took just a quick second of seeing him all greased-up and hearing his quippy one-liners and I was a goner. (Let me just emphasize, it's not necessarily Bruce Willis I've got it in for, it's the bad-ass-but-has-a-good-heart character)
Agent Smith-
Yeah yeah I can hear the rumble of disagreement. But consider this: He's well dressed, wears awesome shades and has more balls than Keanu in all three movies combined (You can't tell me you didn't get a funny feeling when he'd slam his fist into someone and take over their life-force or whatever--such power and anger)- His bad-ass-ittude is off the charts and therefore incredibly sexy. So what if he wants to destroy the world? We can overlook that can't we?
Miles (from Sideways)
Ok, now before you turn on me let me preface by saying Miles may not seem like an obvious choice for a fantasy romp, but you've got to consider his character. Paul Giamatti is a brilliant actor anyway, and he really brings Miles to life. He is able to combine a comfortable humor with a deep sentimentality. His vulnerability is apparent (particularly in the scene when he and Mia are out on the porch and talking about why they drink wine) and makes one want to touch his face and make him smile. There is such a depth to him there that is almost looks as if it was taken from a painting. (ok, maybe he's not a sex-pot, but I haven't seen Shoot 'Em Up yet, but I am sure that would def make him a qualifier)
Hopefully we have learned to embrace our hair-challenged men and led them to understand that we women do not find fault with them. Confidence, gents, is the key to sexiness. It's not on what top that matters, but what you have on the inside. (aww, such a Springer Final Thoughts moment)
Please note: These are the opinions of the writer and not necessarily the opinions of others...but they SHOULD be. If you have any other famous men who you think should be included, please pass 'em along!
Now granted, I was still languishing over an embarrassing crush on Dean Cain at the time, so I couldn't really see what my mom saw in that guy, esp because he was (*gasp) BALD. But now that I'm older and slightly wiser, I can see what she saw in him. Guys are usually so paranoid about losing their hair, but as I was watching SVU I realized that bald men can be just as sexy as hair guys--sometimes even sexier. It got me thinking about compiling a short list of the cutest cue balls out there...
Detective Elliot Stabler-
His smoky stares, his tight angry voice, his gun handling (wink) and ESP the way he slams pedophiles into metal grates...ooh, hottie mchotterstein. Plus you gotta love the episodes where he's working out. He may have lost his hair, but he gains total sex appeal.
John McClane-
I don't really consider myself a "guy-movie" fan, but when I saw Die Hard, I got a serious crush on John McClane (or McClain, whatever, not the point). It took just a quick second of seeing him all greased-up and hearing his quippy one-liners and I was a goner. (Let me just emphasize, it's not necessarily Bruce Willis I've got it in for, it's the bad-ass-but-has-a-good-heart character)
Agent Smith-Yeah yeah I can hear the rumble of disagreement. But consider this: He's well dressed, wears awesome shades and has more balls than Keanu in all three movies combined (You can't tell me you didn't get a funny feeling when he'd slam his fist into someone and take over their life-force or whatever--such power and anger)- His bad-ass-ittude is off the charts and therefore incredibly sexy. So what if he wants to destroy the world? We can overlook that can't we?
Miles (from Sideways)
Ok, now before you turn on me let me preface by saying Miles may not seem like an obvious choice for a fantasy romp, but you've got to consider his character. Paul Giamatti is a brilliant actor anyway, and he really brings Miles to life. He is able to combine a comfortable humor with a deep sentimentality. His vulnerability is apparent (particularly in the scene when he and Mia are out on the porch and talking about why they drink wine) and makes one want to touch his face and make him smile. There is such a depth to him there that is almost looks as if it was taken from a painting. (ok, maybe he's not a sex-pot, but I haven't seen Shoot 'Em Up yet, but I am sure that would def make him a qualifier) Hopefully we have learned to embrace our hair-challenged men and led them to understand that we women do not find fault with them. Confidence, gents, is the key to sexiness. It's not on what top that matters, but what you have on the inside. (aww, such a Springer Final Thoughts moment)
Please note: These are the opinions of the writer and not necessarily the opinions of others...but they SHOULD be. If you have any other famous men who you think should be included, please pass 'em along!
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