Saturday, February 21, 2015
Ugh
I just spent half an hour waiting for a bus on Clark street. And there was a Mardi Gras themed bar crawl going on, so the street was full of drunk people in purple who apparently felt the need to try to engage strangers in conversation. And it was cold. Not as horrifically cold as the rest of this week, but I refuse to feel lucky for non-deadly temperatures. I went through all the stages of cold: denial, uncontrollable shivering, ineffectual attempts at creating a windbreak, rage. I have never been so happy to be sitting in that little seat in the accordion part of the bus that twists when the bus turns and gives you motion sickness. Most of my days involve some degree of nausea, so I really don't consider it a big deal.
I just spent half an hour waiting for a bus on Clark street. And there was a Mardi Gras themed bar crawl going on, so the street was full of drunk people in purple who apparently felt the need to try to engage strangers in conversation. And it was cold. Not as horrifically cold as the rest of this week, but I refuse to feel lucky for non-deadly temperatures. I went through all the stages of cold: denial, uncontrollable shivering, ineffectual attempts at creating a windbreak, rage. I have never been so happy to be sitting in that little seat in the accordion part of the bus that twists when the bus turns and gives you motion sickness. Most of my days involve some degree of nausea, so I really don't consider it a big deal.
Monday, February 16, 2015
Field Report
I took my mom to the Field Museum last week. I had the day off for Lincoln's Birthday, which I used to celebrate by sleeping until noon and watching Designing Women on cable, but now I use to entertain my mom. It was this or looking for Castle reruns on cable with her, and I must say I chose wisely. The Field Museum is a great place to see mummies or dinosaurs through crowds of unruly children who are trying to rub something sticky on you. And because I was with my mother this time, I actually made the effort to read all of the explanatory materials rather than just eyeballing some ancient corpses and running to get a Diet Coke so as to avoid giving in to my urge to punt a toddler. Did you know that dinosaurs were on Earth for more than 160 million years? Because I do now. That's almost as long as Catherine Zeta-Jones has been thirty.
We also checked out some of the less flashy, toddler-encrusted exhibits like the Hall of Gems and the Hall of Jades, which I was only mildly disappointed to discover was not a room devoted to America's Next Top Model legend Jade. We even went through the bird collection and shit there are a ton of different kinds of birds, all of which are apparently suitable for stuffing and mounting. I really liked the colorful Latin American birds, even though it made me feel somewhat racist.
The one thing I really can't understand, though, is how science has not yet found a way to make the Field Museum not smell like formaldehyde. I sense a naming opportunity for Febreeze here.
I took my mom to the Field Museum last week. I had the day off for Lincoln's Birthday, which I used to celebrate by sleeping until noon and watching Designing Women on cable, but now I use to entertain my mom. It was this or looking for Castle reruns on cable with her, and I must say I chose wisely. The Field Museum is a great place to see mummies or dinosaurs through crowds of unruly children who are trying to rub something sticky on you. And because I was with my mother this time, I actually made the effort to read all of the explanatory materials rather than just eyeballing some ancient corpses and running to get a Diet Coke so as to avoid giving in to my urge to punt a toddler. Did you know that dinosaurs were on Earth for more than 160 million years? Because I do now. That's almost as long as Catherine Zeta-Jones has been thirty.
We also checked out some of the less flashy, toddler-encrusted exhibits like the Hall of Gems and the Hall of Jades, which I was only mildly disappointed to discover was not a room devoted to America's Next Top Model legend Jade. We even went through the bird collection and shit there are a ton of different kinds of birds, all of which are apparently suitable for stuffing and mounting. I really liked the colorful Latin American birds, even though it made me feel somewhat racist.
The one thing I really can't understand, though, is how science has not yet found a way to make the Field Museum not smell like formaldehyde. I sense a naming opportunity for Febreeze here.
Sunday, February 08, 2015
Mad World
I realize I'm more than a little late to the party on this one, but I've been watching Mad Men with my mother lately. Yes, while everyone else in 2007 was busy buying skinny ties at Banana Republic and taking Facebook quizzes to find out whether they're a Joan, I was working compulsively and missed out. Chances are I was reading other people's emails by the thousands and checking little boxes to indicate they were not relevant. Or maybe I was just drunk, who knows. But the point is, I'm only now finding out what everyone else knew long ago: Don Draper is a brilliant but troubled man.
Honestly it seemed kind of slow to me in the beginning and I wasn't super into it. There was too much adultery and a lot of the sixties stuff seemed a little fussy and self conscious to me. But as I got deeper into it, and especially in season three, I started to really like it. It's consistently surprising without being aggressively shocking, and the characters are all so complex and interesting. Even the characters I really like -- Peggy, natch -- have weird flaws and do things that make it harder to like them. I also like the fact that so much happens off screen; it's fun to piece together what happened in between episodes or seasons rather than have it spoon fed. Although I do also enjoy a good spoon feeding.
I also definitely recommend it for parental viewing, if you can get past all of the sexing. It gives you lots of conversation topics, like "were people really as irritating as Betty back then?" and "was that really what it was like when (spoiler alert) Marilyn Monroe died?" The hours fly by.
I realize I'm more than a little late to the party on this one, but I've been watching Mad Men with my mother lately. Yes, while everyone else in 2007 was busy buying skinny ties at Banana Republic and taking Facebook quizzes to find out whether they're a Joan, I was working compulsively and missed out. Chances are I was reading other people's emails by the thousands and checking little boxes to indicate they were not relevant. Or maybe I was just drunk, who knows. But the point is, I'm only now finding out what everyone else knew long ago: Don Draper is a brilliant but troubled man.
Honestly it seemed kind of slow to me in the beginning and I wasn't super into it. There was too much adultery and a lot of the sixties stuff seemed a little fussy and self conscious to me. But as I got deeper into it, and especially in season three, I started to really like it. It's consistently surprising without being aggressively shocking, and the characters are all so complex and interesting. Even the characters I really like -- Peggy, natch -- have weird flaws and do things that make it harder to like them. I also like the fact that so much happens off screen; it's fun to piece together what happened in between episodes or seasons rather than have it spoon fed. Although I do also enjoy a good spoon feeding.
I also definitely recommend it for parental viewing, if you can get past all of the sexing. It gives you lots of conversation topics, like "were people really as irritating as Betty back then?" and "was that really what it was like when (spoiler alert) Marilyn Monroe died?" The hours fly by.
Thursday, February 05, 2015
Another Year...
Yesterday was my birthday. As the years have gone by, my birthday celebrations have gotten less and less elaborate. Well, maybe it's not a strict linear progression; I can recall one birthday during law school when I celebrated by buying myself a bag of M&Ms from the vending machine in the cafeteria. It wasn't the merriest of places. But I certainly haven't had any keg parties (or for that matter roller rink parties) within recent memory. This year I ordered in with the family and watched my DVR of Parks & Rec from last night. Oh, and I went to work. That always makes for a stunning celebration.
Actually, the past two years some of my coworkers have gotten together and thrown a little office party for my birthday, by which I mean we have sat in the conference room on our hallway and awkwardly eaten cake. They also hung a sign that says happy birthday over the door to my office. (I am actually happy just to have a door; this is not as common as one might think in my workplace.) But this year everyone forgot! Which is actually a pretty big relief. I am running out of PG anecdotes to share.
Yesterday was my birthday. As the years have gone by, my birthday celebrations have gotten less and less elaborate. Well, maybe it's not a strict linear progression; I can recall one birthday during law school when I celebrated by buying myself a bag of M&Ms from the vending machine in the cafeteria. It wasn't the merriest of places. But I certainly haven't had any keg parties (or for that matter roller rink parties) within recent memory. This year I ordered in with the family and watched my DVR of Parks & Rec from last night. Oh, and I went to work. That always makes for a stunning celebration.
Actually, the past two years some of my coworkers have gotten together and thrown a little office party for my birthday, by which I mean we have sat in the conference room on our hallway and awkwardly eaten cake. They also hung a sign that says happy birthday over the door to my office. (I am actually happy just to have a door; this is not as common as one might think in my workplace.) But this year everyone forgot! Which is actually a pretty big relief. I am running out of PG anecdotes to share.
Monday, February 02, 2015
P.S. The Whitney Movie Was All Kinds of Terrible
Approximately eighteen inches of snow later, I've been housebound for long enough to watch almost everything on my DVR. My office was closed today, which was nice, because I'm sure the commute downtown would have been a disaster. I traveled as far as Belmont yesterday to visit my mom and nearly became a Jack London character. I actually had to stop at a Walgreen's halfway there to warm up, which resulted in me buying a tube of Cheeseburger Pringles because I felt bad about just wandering around until my hands had unfrozen. They were legitimately delicious, though.
Anyway, Whitney. I have a feeling that the movie was made with heavy input by Bobby Brown, because the Bobby character was actually in more scenes than the Whitney character. And they made him out to be the victim: she introduced him to drugs, she was physically violent towards him, she ruined his career by forcing him to be a stay at home dad. Also the movie was followed by an exclusive interview with Bobby Brown, which must have seemed kind of redundant for those who actually watched it. I was rooting for Yaya Decosta as Whitney because she's a Top Model alum, but it turned out that she didn't even do her own singing, even though there were more musical numbers than a '90s Disney cartoon. Also, Angela Bassett was the director? Is there maybe more than one Angela Bassett, and this one is a functionally illiterate deaf woman from Tulsa?
Back to work tomorrow, I guess. Why oh why won't anyone pay me to stay home all the time?
Approximately eighteen inches of snow later, I've been housebound for long enough to watch almost everything on my DVR. My office was closed today, which was nice, because I'm sure the commute downtown would have been a disaster. I traveled as far as Belmont yesterday to visit my mom and nearly became a Jack London character. I actually had to stop at a Walgreen's halfway there to warm up, which resulted in me buying a tube of Cheeseburger Pringles because I felt bad about just wandering around until my hands had unfrozen. They were legitimately delicious, though.
Anyway, Whitney. I have a feeling that the movie was made with heavy input by Bobby Brown, because the Bobby character was actually in more scenes than the Whitney character. And they made him out to be the victim: she introduced him to drugs, she was physically violent towards him, she ruined his career by forcing him to be a stay at home dad. Also the movie was followed by an exclusive interview with Bobby Brown, which must have seemed kind of redundant for those who actually watched it. I was rooting for Yaya Decosta as Whitney because she's a Top Model alum, but it turned out that she didn't even do her own singing, even though there were more musical numbers than a '90s Disney cartoon. Also, Angela Bassett was the director? Is there maybe more than one Angela Bassett, and this one is a functionally illiterate deaf woman from Tulsa?
Back to work tomorrow, I guess. Why oh why won't anyone pay me to stay home all the time?
