Saturday, May 29, 2010
Tiger Beat
So I'm catching up on some of my reading over the long weekend, and I finally got to the Vanity Fair story on Tiger's mistresses. I have to say, it is some pretty amazing reading. I'm only about halfway through, but I've already learned so much I never wanted to know about horny rich nerds and the skanks who love them.
To begin with, I am delighted to find out one of his first mistresses was a hostess at Perkins. I like to think that he started up with her in order to get easy access to their delicious pies and cakes. I also love the fact that she thought he was maybe going to marry her. Maybe it's just me, but I don't know of many successful marriages that began with getting picked up in a CVS parking lot for a quickie.
I'm also loving how they make Michael Jordan and Charles Barkley out to be some big villains in the article, as though MJ personally grabbed Tiger's penis and forced it into the vajayjays of women who weren't his wife. I mean, look, Charles Barkley should be no one's moral compass, but I think peer pressure is a pretty lame excuse for mass adultery. Anyone who has seen those Fruit of the Loom commercials knows you don't want to emulate everything Michael Jordan does.
The Jamie Jungers segment is also especially sweet. She seems way more upset about the fact that he used to make her fly coach than about his constant failure to use a condom. And the reason she ended things with him was essentially because he wouldn't give her money to get her own place. So you have no problem being the other woman, but having a roommate is just unbearable?
I have to find the issue with the second half of this so I can find out how it all ends. I'm guessing it all works out okay.
So I'm catching up on some of my reading over the long weekend, and I finally got to the Vanity Fair story on Tiger's mistresses. I have to say, it is some pretty amazing reading. I'm only about halfway through, but I've already learned so much I never wanted to know about horny rich nerds and the skanks who love them.
To begin with, I am delighted to find out one of his first mistresses was a hostess at Perkins. I like to think that he started up with her in order to get easy access to their delicious pies and cakes. I also love the fact that she thought he was maybe going to marry her. Maybe it's just me, but I don't know of many successful marriages that began with getting picked up in a CVS parking lot for a quickie.
I'm also loving how they make Michael Jordan and Charles Barkley out to be some big villains in the article, as though MJ personally grabbed Tiger's penis and forced it into the vajayjays of women who weren't his wife. I mean, look, Charles Barkley should be no one's moral compass, but I think peer pressure is a pretty lame excuse for mass adultery. Anyone who has seen those Fruit of the Loom commercials knows you don't want to emulate everything Michael Jordan does.
The Jamie Jungers segment is also especially sweet. She seems way more upset about the fact that he used to make her fly coach than about his constant failure to use a condom. And the reason she ended things with him was essentially because he wouldn't give her money to get her own place. So you have no problem being the other woman, but having a roommate is just unbearable?
I have to find the issue with the second half of this so I can find out how it all ends. I'm guessing it all works out okay.
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Wed Up
So the wedding madness started last weekend. (Well, technically it started several weeks ago with an engagement party, but the first real wedding was on Saturday.) So far, I give it two thumbs up. The wedding itself was only half an hour long, even though it was a Catholic wedding. It turns out if you cut the wafers and all of the hymning you can get through it much faster. There were several hours between the wedding and reception, but we went to a barbecue place while we were waiting, which I strongly recommend. It made all of the toasting prior to the main course much easier to survive. Then, of course, there was the open bar, and since I wasn't driving, I got nicely toasted myself on a fairly lovely little Cabernet. I said some inappropriate things to several people who were not the bride and groom, lied about my entree selection after realizing that angel hair pasta was about the last thing in the world I wanted to eat, and tried to do the running man to a live band version of "Crazy in Love." All in all, it was a successful night.
Next up is a Memorial Day trip to Baltimore. I'm hoping to take in some of the things Baltimore is best known for, like crime and being close to D.C.
So the wedding madness started last weekend. (Well, technically it started several weeks ago with an engagement party, but the first real wedding was on Saturday.) So far, I give it two thumbs up. The wedding itself was only half an hour long, even though it was a Catholic wedding. It turns out if you cut the wafers and all of the hymning you can get through it much faster. There were several hours between the wedding and reception, but we went to a barbecue place while we were waiting, which I strongly recommend. It made all of the toasting prior to the main course much easier to survive. Then, of course, there was the open bar, and since I wasn't driving, I got nicely toasted myself on a fairly lovely little Cabernet. I said some inappropriate things to several people who were not the bride and groom, lied about my entree selection after realizing that angel hair pasta was about the last thing in the world I wanted to eat, and tried to do the running man to a live band version of "Crazy in Love." All in all, it was a successful night.
Next up is a Memorial Day trip to Baltimore. I'm hoping to take in some of the things Baltimore is best known for, like crime and being close to D.C.
Sunday, May 23, 2010
Liveblogging the LOST Finale
8:02 PM -- LOST has taught be a lot about science, such as the fact that a person can be shot in a sinking submarine and not only live through it, but experience only minor irritation as a result.
8:11 PM -- This seems like it's going to be one hell of a concert. I hear Kelly Clarkson is the opening act. You can tell because of the way they're reinforcing the stage.
8:24 PM -- Things I will not miss about LOST, Part 1: thousands upon thousands of rhetorical questions.
8:42 PM -- I've never really gotten the whole Desmond thing.
8:44 PM -- God, Chase Sapphire really loves it some LOST.
8:51 PM -- You know what would be cooler than a cave with a light in it? Just about anything. Seriously, this reminds me of a fourth grade field trip to Mark Twain Cave.
9:05 PM -- Ah, the old "hit your adversary with a rock" trick. Madeleine Albright tried that one on me once. Just once, though.
9:17 PM -- And now it's raining. Oh, great, could this day get any worse?
9:34 PM -- It's nice to see all the flashbacks to years ago when this was my favorite show. It would be nice to be 28 again, too.
9:37 PM -- Things I will not miss about LOST, Part 2: Charlie's eyeliner.
9:46 PM -- Juliet is the greatest ever. I would watch her do literally anything. Except that V remake. It's like the gods are testing me.
9:57 PM -- Holy homoeroticism, Batman!
10:10 PM -- It's always nice to hear someone say "I'm sorry" for murdering you.
10:20 PM -- Well, hey, here's your dead dad.
10:29 PM -- So they're all riding on a church into space?
8:02 PM -- LOST has taught be a lot about science, such as the fact that a person can be shot in a sinking submarine and not only live through it, but experience only minor irritation as a result.
8:11 PM -- This seems like it's going to be one hell of a concert. I hear Kelly Clarkson is the opening act. You can tell because of the way they're reinforcing the stage.
8:24 PM -- Things I will not miss about LOST, Part 1: thousands upon thousands of rhetorical questions.
8:42 PM -- I've never really gotten the whole Desmond thing.
8:44 PM -- God, Chase Sapphire really loves it some LOST.
8:51 PM -- You know what would be cooler than a cave with a light in it? Just about anything. Seriously, this reminds me of a fourth grade field trip to Mark Twain Cave.
9:05 PM -- Ah, the old "hit your adversary with a rock" trick. Madeleine Albright tried that one on me once. Just once, though.
9:17 PM -- And now it's raining. Oh, great, could this day get any worse?
9:34 PM -- It's nice to see all the flashbacks to years ago when this was my favorite show. It would be nice to be 28 again, too.
9:37 PM -- Things I will not miss about LOST, Part 2: Charlie's eyeliner.
9:46 PM -- Juliet is the greatest ever. I would watch her do literally anything. Except that V remake. It's like the gods are testing me.
9:57 PM -- Holy homoeroticism, Batman!
10:10 PM -- It's always nice to hear someone say "I'm sorry" for murdering you.
10:20 PM -- Well, hey, here's your dead dad.
10:29 PM -- So they're all riding on a church into space?
Thursday, May 20, 2010
Reading Rainbow
I just finished reading Lauren Conrad's magnum opus, L.A. Candy. I'm not going to lie and pretend it wasn't fully enjoyable, although my fun was diminished somewhat by the fact that I was embarrassed to be seen in public holding it. It's pretty much 100% plot, and it ends with a cliffhanger, so now I fear I may have to read the next book as well. The characters are stock, the writing is clunky, and the scenarios are absurd, but there's definitely something to be said for a book you can finish in the five minute intervals between brushing your teeth and falling asleep. And there was special bonus material in the back -- pictures of the book tour!
A Tale of Two Cities has been my read-in-public choice during this period. Obviously there are a lot of similarities between the two. Both deal with complex issues of class and politics, and I'm pretty sure that Dickens had his own clothing line. Unfortunately, I haven't gotten very far into the Dickens yet, since the print isn't quite as large and there aren't chapter breaks every three pages. I am enjoying it, though.
I am also way behind on magazines, which is causing some consternation. I'm still working on the New Yorker from three weeks ago, and I haven't even cracked the Vanity Fairs on Tiger's mistresses, which I've been saving for a while and is obviously some very challenging material. Maybe I should just quit my job and read Entertainment Weeklies full time for a while.
I just finished reading Lauren Conrad's magnum opus, L.A. Candy. I'm not going to lie and pretend it wasn't fully enjoyable, although my fun was diminished somewhat by the fact that I was embarrassed to be seen in public holding it. It's pretty much 100% plot, and it ends with a cliffhanger, so now I fear I may have to read the next book as well. The characters are stock, the writing is clunky, and the scenarios are absurd, but there's definitely something to be said for a book you can finish in the five minute intervals between brushing your teeth and falling asleep. And there was special bonus material in the back -- pictures of the book tour!
A Tale of Two Cities has been my read-in-public choice during this period. Obviously there are a lot of similarities between the two. Both deal with complex issues of class and politics, and I'm pretty sure that Dickens had his own clothing line. Unfortunately, I haven't gotten very far into the Dickens yet, since the print isn't quite as large and there aren't chapter breaks every three pages. I am enjoying it, though.
I am also way behind on magazines, which is causing some consternation. I'm still working on the New Yorker from three weeks ago, and I haven't even cracked the Vanity Fairs on Tiger's mistresses, which I've been saving for a while and is obviously some very challenging material. Maybe I should just quit my job and read Entertainment Weeklies full time for a while.
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Fire Sale
From the department of concerns I never thought I'd have, my next door neighbors have taken to having frequent and large bonfires in their backyard. I would like to think this is a temporary situation, but they seem to have built some sort of bonfire-related contraption in the middle of the yard. I would also like to think they're just going to burn their own house down and learn an important lesson about the non-entertaining qualities of fire, but said contraption is situated only about six feet from my north wall. So now this is the subject of major discussions in my condo association, many of which are taking place in all caps. The proposed solutions so far are everything from politely asking them to stop to calling their landlord to anonymously calling the police. Personally, I'm thinking about just getting a fucking garden hose.
From the department of concerns I never thought I'd have, my next door neighbors have taken to having frequent and large bonfires in their backyard. I would like to think this is a temporary situation, but they seem to have built some sort of bonfire-related contraption in the middle of the yard. I would also like to think they're just going to burn their own house down and learn an important lesson about the non-entertaining qualities of fire, but said contraption is situated only about six feet from my north wall. So now this is the subject of major discussions in my condo association, many of which are taking place in all caps. The proposed solutions so far are everything from politely asking them to stop to calling their landlord to anonymously calling the police. Personally, I'm thinking about just getting a fucking garden hose.
Sunday, May 16, 2010
Weekender
I guess the big news from this weekend was my discovery of Totchoes, which are tater tots covered with nacho toppings like cheese, beans, guacamole, and sour creme. Now this may sound like someone was searching for a better way to induce a heart attack, but in fact that is absolutely the case. I like to have mine with a side of ranch.
I also found something else that's cheesy and terrible for me, in the embodiment of "The Fab Five: The Texas Cheerleading Scandal" on Lifetime Television for Women. It had many of the classic hallmarks of a Lifetime movie, including random impassioned speeches and plotting that was at once obvious and difficult to follow. It also had a career making performance from Jenna Dewan's hair, which was thick and lustrous throughout. I'd already seen the lighter side of cheerleading from ABC Family's repeated airings of the Bring It On saga, but it took the wisdom of a Lifetime to show me that cheerleading has a dark side as well.
I guess the big news from this weekend was my discovery of Totchoes, which are tater tots covered with nacho toppings like cheese, beans, guacamole, and sour creme. Now this may sound like someone was searching for a better way to induce a heart attack, but in fact that is absolutely the case. I like to have mine with a side of ranch.
I also found something else that's cheesy and terrible for me, in the embodiment of "The Fab Five: The Texas Cheerleading Scandal" on Lifetime Television for Women. It had many of the classic hallmarks of a Lifetime movie, including random impassioned speeches and plotting that was at once obvious and difficult to follow. It also had a career making performance from Jenna Dewan's hair, which was thick and lustrous throughout. I'd already seen the lighter side of cheerleading from ABC Family's repeated airings of the Bring It On saga, but it took the wisdom of a Lifetime to show me that cheerleading has a dark side as well.
Thursday, May 13, 2010
Many Happy Returns
Well, that was interesting.
It turns out that where we were staying in Maryland was about three blocks from where one of my good friends from college lives. (Also about a block from Tiffany's, but that's another story.) I ended up only having about an hour to break away and see her, but that was nice. Even if she did make me try this horrible liqueur that she claims is "really big in Spain." Actually, she claims that her mother claims it's "really big in Spain." I'm not sure if that's better or worse.
The hotel had both a restaurant and a business center right there in the main lobby, which was kind of a pip. I actually made copies on the tiny copy/fax machine while I was eating lunch the second day, which was useful since it moved at a pace of about one page every fifteen seconds.
It seemed like every channel on Maryland television was playing Bride Wars, which I believe is directly forbidden by the Geneva convention. While I support the casting of former Reba actors in comic supporting roles, I have no room in my life for an orange Anne Hathaway. Or a Kate Hudson of any color, frankly.
Yesterday I ended up stuck in Reagan National Airport for about seven hours. I had both lunch and dinner there and changed my clothes in the bathroom, so I was really just a cot away from taking up residence. Apparently there were weather delays, which is airline code for "go to hell." All I can say is thank God that Potbelly's is so delicious.
Well, that was interesting.
It turns out that where we were staying in Maryland was about three blocks from where one of my good friends from college lives. (Also about a block from Tiffany's, but that's another story.) I ended up only having about an hour to break away and see her, but that was nice. Even if she did make me try this horrible liqueur that she claims is "really big in Spain." Actually, she claims that her mother claims it's "really big in Spain." I'm not sure if that's better or worse.
The hotel had both a restaurant and a business center right there in the main lobby, which was kind of a pip. I actually made copies on the tiny copy/fax machine while I was eating lunch the second day, which was useful since it moved at a pace of about one page every fifteen seconds.
It seemed like every channel on Maryland television was playing Bride Wars, which I believe is directly forbidden by the Geneva convention. While I support the casting of former Reba actors in comic supporting roles, I have no room in my life for an orange Anne Hathaway. Or a Kate Hudson of any color, frankly.
Yesterday I ended up stuck in Reagan National Airport for about seven hours. I had both lunch and dinner there and changed my clothes in the bathroom, so I was really just a cot away from taking up residence. Apparently there were weather delays, which is airline code for "go to hell." All I can say is thank God that Potbelly's is so delicious.
Sunday, May 09, 2010
Traveling Man
I was just reflecting the other day on how nice it was that I haven't had to travel for work since December, and so of course now I'm being sent to Maryland for three days starting tomorrow. I guess the good news is that it will give me material to work with for this thing, since it seems like every flight I'm ever on is populated entirely by insane people. The other good news is that I'm not being sent for anything uniquely horrible this time, because generally they only send me out if there's going to be someone to scream at me on the other end. I don't think that will be the case this time, although you can never tell. Again, I seem to attract the unstable.
I googled Maryland to see if there was anything fun to do while I'm there. The tourism homepage immediately threatened me with the spectre of Kenny Loggins tickets, followed by something called the Maryland Faerie Festival, which is not nearly as sexy as you might think. They also boasted more than thirty "religious attractions," which I will absolutely have to check out when I am done stabbing myself in the eyes repeatedly. I did appreciate the multitude of images of people of many races having fun together, which made me sad that I forgot to invite my black and asian friends on this business trip. I'd like to have a flight 2712 that looks like America.
I likely won't be able to check in while I'm gone, since blogging on a work computer is pretty much the ethical equivalent of child molestation. Perhaps I should run some "best of" entries in my absence, including that time I thought I saw Top Model Heather on the train and the series where I had an intestinal parasite. Interest in guest blogging seems to have dried up entirely; I'm essentially the Jay Leno of the blogosphere.
I was just reflecting the other day on how nice it was that I haven't had to travel for work since December, and so of course now I'm being sent to Maryland for three days starting tomorrow. I guess the good news is that it will give me material to work with for this thing, since it seems like every flight I'm ever on is populated entirely by insane people. The other good news is that I'm not being sent for anything uniquely horrible this time, because generally they only send me out if there's going to be someone to scream at me on the other end. I don't think that will be the case this time, although you can never tell. Again, I seem to attract the unstable.
I googled Maryland to see if there was anything fun to do while I'm there. The tourism homepage immediately threatened me with the spectre of Kenny Loggins tickets, followed by something called the Maryland Faerie Festival, which is not nearly as sexy as you might think. They also boasted more than thirty "religious attractions," which I will absolutely have to check out when I am done stabbing myself in the eyes repeatedly. I did appreciate the multitude of images of people of many races having fun together, which made me sad that I forgot to invite my black and asian friends on this business trip. I'd like to have a flight 2712 that looks like America.
I likely won't be able to check in while I'm gone, since blogging on a work computer is pretty much the ethical equivalent of child molestation. Perhaps I should run some "best of" entries in my absence, including that time I thought I saw Top Model Heather on the train and the series where I had an intestinal parasite. Interest in guest blogging seems to have dried up entirely; I'm essentially the Jay Leno of the blogosphere.
Thursday, May 06, 2010
The Longest Yard
So my front yard has died again. We've tried everything on that patch short of exorcism, and nothing seems to want to grow there. The grass was patch and wild, when there was any. Flowers shrivel up and die like Faye Dunaway's libido. Last year we went for shrubs, hardy shrubs, and wood chips. I guess the good news is that the wood chips didn't die. I'm sort of running out of ideas now. Maybe we should just put down concrete and paint it green.
The yard has sort of become my responsibility by default, since no one else in the building is willing to do anything at all about it. The trash is the same way. Not taking the trash out, but moving it from the trash bin corral to the edge of the alley where the trash people pick it up. Why they didn't just build the corral there I will never know. I also change the lightbulbs in the common areas. I'm pretty sure someone else takes responsibility for cleaning them, though. I say this because no one has yet been engulfed by an enormous dustball.
Anyway, I guess I'll just go to Home Depot this weekend and beg them for ideas about death-proof plants. At this point they all go running when they see me walk in.
So my front yard has died again. We've tried everything on that patch short of exorcism, and nothing seems to want to grow there. The grass was patch and wild, when there was any. Flowers shrivel up and die like Faye Dunaway's libido. Last year we went for shrubs, hardy shrubs, and wood chips. I guess the good news is that the wood chips didn't die. I'm sort of running out of ideas now. Maybe we should just put down concrete and paint it green.
The yard has sort of become my responsibility by default, since no one else in the building is willing to do anything at all about it. The trash is the same way. Not taking the trash out, but moving it from the trash bin corral to the edge of the alley where the trash people pick it up. Why they didn't just build the corral there I will never know. I also change the lightbulbs in the common areas. I'm pretty sure someone else takes responsibility for cleaning them, though. I say this because no one has yet been engulfed by an enormous dustball.
Anyway, I guess I'll just go to Home Depot this weekend and beg them for ideas about death-proof plants. At this point they all go running when they see me walk in.
Monday, May 03, 2010
The Return of the King
I've long had a strange aversion to Stephen King. I think some of it stems from the fact that, as a child, I was traumatized by his "READ" poster at the local library, which featured what was, by '80s five-year-old standards, a very realistic skeleton. Some of it can also probably be attributed to the fact that most of my friends were reading him when I was transitioning from Ramona Quimby to Virginia Woolf (less of a transition than one might think), which made me feel somewhat left out, since I knew I could never be caught with one of his books in my household. Most of it is probably due to his column in Entertainment Weekly, though. If I wanted an old person to hector me about what music I should be listening to, I would just go visit my grandmother.
But anyway, I decided to actually read a Stephen King novel, to either put those negative feelings to rest or prove to myself that they were justified all along. Unfortunately, the result ended up being somewhere in between. I read Bag Of Bones, and found it to actually be rather decently written, if not exactly the page turner I had expected. There certainly wasn't the volume of laughably clunky sentences one gets with a Dan Brown or a John Grisham, but there were also long passages just sort of describing life in small town Maine. I had thought it might read like a Twilight novel for grown ups, but it was actually rather thoughtful and complex. At the same time, I had expected that I wouldn't be able to put it down, but I ended up putting it down many, many times. Stephen King, you are a mystery.
The real pisser in all of this is that I think I'm going to have to read another one. Is there one that Oprah endorsed? That would seem all but certain to end badly.
I've long had a strange aversion to Stephen King. I think some of it stems from the fact that, as a child, I was traumatized by his "READ" poster at the local library, which featured what was, by '80s five-year-old standards, a very realistic skeleton. Some of it can also probably be attributed to the fact that most of my friends were reading him when I was transitioning from Ramona Quimby to Virginia Woolf (less of a transition than one might think), which made me feel somewhat left out, since I knew I could never be caught with one of his books in my household. Most of it is probably due to his column in Entertainment Weekly, though. If I wanted an old person to hector me about what music I should be listening to, I would just go visit my grandmother.
But anyway, I decided to actually read a Stephen King novel, to either put those negative feelings to rest or prove to myself that they were justified all along. Unfortunately, the result ended up being somewhere in between. I read Bag Of Bones, and found it to actually be rather decently written, if not exactly the page turner I had expected. There certainly wasn't the volume of laughably clunky sentences one gets with a Dan Brown or a John Grisham, but there were also long passages just sort of describing life in small town Maine. I had thought it might read like a Twilight novel for grown ups, but it was actually rather thoughtful and complex. At the same time, I had expected that I wouldn't be able to put it down, but I ended up putting it down many, many times. Stephen King, you are a mystery.
The real pisser in all of this is that I think I'm going to have to read another one. Is there one that Oprah endorsed? That would seem all but certain to end badly.
Saturday, May 01, 2010
New York Minute
Just got back from whirlwind trip to New York for a friend's engagement party. Any time you get to fly twice in 36 hours is of course amazing. On the way out, I had a flight attendant who looked like Ertha Kitt and demanded a kiss from a twelve-year-old boy in exchange for his apple juice. Then there was a seat-changing fracas involving an aggressively chipper lady who "really wanted to sit by her husband on her birthday." On the way back, I had a flight attendant who met me outside the bathroom and poured hand sanitizer on me. And the lost cast members from Jersey Shore were sitting behind me loudly discussing the merits of various types of alcohol for the duration of the trip. Suddenly the thought of crashing became reassuring rather than scary.
The party itself was nice. We were on a roof and drinking, which is always a winning combination so long as the railings are suitably high. The bar was sufficiently nice to be pleasant but not so nice that I felt like I needed to be wearing work clothes. I didn't know all that many of the people there, but I made a good start on making "wedding friends" that I can lean on throughout the remaining pre-nuptial events. And thanks to the one-hour time difference, I was able to stay out past the old lady hour. It was almost like being 29 again!
Just got back from whirlwind trip to New York for a friend's engagement party. Any time you get to fly twice in 36 hours is of course amazing. On the way out, I had a flight attendant who looked like Ertha Kitt and demanded a kiss from a twelve-year-old boy in exchange for his apple juice. Then there was a seat-changing fracas involving an aggressively chipper lady who "really wanted to sit by her husband on her birthday." On the way back, I had a flight attendant who met me outside the bathroom and poured hand sanitizer on me. And the lost cast members from Jersey Shore were sitting behind me loudly discussing the merits of various types of alcohol for the duration of the trip. Suddenly the thought of crashing became reassuring rather than scary.
The party itself was nice. We were on a roof and drinking, which is always a winning combination so long as the railings are suitably high. The bar was sufficiently nice to be pleasant but not so nice that I felt like I needed to be wearing work clothes. I didn't know all that many of the people there, but I made a good start on making "wedding friends" that I can lean on throughout the remaining pre-nuptial events. And thanks to the one-hour time difference, I was able to stay out past the old lady hour. It was almost like being 29 again!
