the ocean

2012-01-29T20:28:00.000-08:00

Getting Real

This may be one of the few things I've never admitted on here before, but I'm kind of weirdly obsessed with real estate. When I was a kid, I always tried to get my hands on copies of Architectural Digest while my friends were sneaking copies of comic books or later porn. I would flip through them over and over and imagine the great clerestory my kitchen would have when I got old enough to have my own place. My parents even bought me some of those little paperbacks that are filled with floor plans for houses. I picked out three or four favorites, with my main criteria being lots of square footage and rooms with exotic names I had never heard before, like "media room" or "sex bunker." On one birthday I even got a computer program so I could design my own houses, but it ended up being really complicated and I don't think I ever got much further than slapping a window in a wall. It was a hell of a window, though, I'll tell you that.

I mention all of this solely because I went up to my friends' new house in Evanston last night for dinner and I am feeling a wicked case of real estate envy. Four bedrooms, four baths, a gorgeous open kitchen, and two of the biggest walk-in closets you have ever seen. Coffered ceiling in the dining room and crown molding everywhere. There's even a laundry chute. Can you tell I'm getting a little turned on right now? It was all I could do to stop myself from climbing back in through a window and setting up a squatter's colony in the fully finished basement. If I'd had a toothbrush and a change of clothes with me, it probably would have happened.

2012-01-28T16:02:00.000-08:00

Wisdom

This morning when I started my car, the first thing I heard was a deejay saying "And that's the latest from Train. How can you not love that?"

I will assume it was a rhetorical question.

2012-01-26T20:31:00.000-08:00

Difficulties

Well, it's Thursday night, which if the past two weeks are any indication means that it's either already snowing ferociously or about to start doing so. I have to say that it's been pretty great getting snowed in every time I'm about to actually have a little bit of time to go places. Hiking back and forth to the gym in my ten-year-old sneakers because I don't even have snow boots despite living in Chicago for a decade has been a true joy. Not to mention the fact that I've had to cancel two planned trips to Target in a row! You may have noticed from their stock dropping fifty points.

Anyway, it has been a trying week. Lots of work, no new Revenge, my work computer and my home computer have decided to gang up on me with a partial work stoppage, and someone sneezed on me on the el today. I fully expect to have the full-blown plague by Tuesday.

Oh, and I've seen the commercial for Ghost Rider 2 like six times tonight. Have all the demons of hell come to torment me?

2012-01-22T20:16:00.000-08:00

Touchable

Drew Peterson: Untouchable weekend has drawn to a close and, as one might expect, there's a little bit of a letdown. Ever since those photos of Rob Lowe buried under sixteen pounds of moustache surfaced on the Internet we've been looking forward to it and now we can no longer look forward to the joy of hearing dialogue like "Drew just pushed me into the TV. Want to help me make Margaritas?" for the first time. And who knows how long it will be until the next wife murdering comedy comes out? Too long, that's for damned sure.

Anyway, I'm trying to mentally prepare myself now for a week without Drew. The snow is melting off rapidly, which helps a little bit. I'm basking in the promise of potentially being able to get my car out for a run to Target. I'm planning to buy snow boots and a spare phone charger, you see. If life gets any more exciting than that, I don't want to know about it.

It's going to be a long work week, I think. I pretty much tend to always think that, but I also tend to generally be right. Just like that time I predicted that Kate Hudson would win an Oscar, I would very much prefer to be wrong.

2012-01-21T11:13:00.000-08:00

Silent Night

So I saw The Artist this week. It was pretty fun and cute. I could probably have done with about fifteen fewer minutes of it, but I say that so often these days that I really should create a macro for it. It is, as I suspect you may have heard, a silent film, which is a bit weird at first (it made it much harder for me not to notice the people eating candy loudly down in front of me), but ultimately not such a big deal. The main thing you end up noticing is that the score is gorgeous, even though they somehow failed to get John Williams. It's actually kind of nice to not have people talking over it.

As to the acting, I'm going to go out on a limb and say that it may be the finest work that John Goodman has done since Coyote Ugly. (No, don't fret, he's not in it very much.) James Cromwell is there but doesn't do a whole lot, which is fine, as is Penelope Ann Miller, who I always confuse with someone else, although I couldn't tell you who. I think most of the cast is French, though, or I should probably say "Freedom." I do want to give a special shout out to Berenice Bejo, whose name requires two accent marks my keyboard cannot provide, for being maybe the most adorable thing ever. Except I have to take that back, because the dog in the movie is without a doubt the most adorable thing ever. Sorry, humans. Dogs just do it better.

Anyway, I thought the movie was quite fine. And given what a mediocre year this has been generally for movies, I'm not surprised that it's racking up so many awards. If only Rob Lowe's Drew Peterson movie had been a theatrical release instead of a Lifetime classic, I might be singing a very different tune.

2012-01-17T21:02:00.000-08:00

Leighton Meester Film Festival

Fresh on the heels of our Country Strong triumph, we watched The Roommate starring Leighton Meester tonight. It was not at all what I expected. Despite the presence of acting powerhouses like Leighton Meester, Minka Kelly, Aly Michalka, and Cam Gigandet, it was not really all that hilarious. There was limited catfighting and very little random bitchery. No one was buried alive or thrown into a pool. And worst of all, there was not a single Leighton Meester song on the soundtrack.

Does it seem like I'm trying to say the words Leighton Meester as often as possible? Well, you're wrong about that, because Leighton and Meester aren't even close to being words.

Leighton Meester is pretty incredible, though. I was actually kind of rooting for her throughout, and only partially because Minka Kelly wears a terrible hat and seems on the verge of falling into a coma the whole time. I mean, sure, she's a manic, possessive loon who murders on more than one occasion, but she's creative and well dressed and unfailingly polite. Plus her parents are rich, so she has a sweet car. I wish my college roommate had been like that, as opposed to a greasy Alan Parsons Project fan who obsessively cleaned our kitchen and took forty minute showers. Although I never had a problem finding a clean glass, I'll give him that.

Anyway, it was kind of a disappointment. On the plus side, it was only ninety minutes, although those ninety minutes seemed more like ninety years. Maybe that was the point? To challenge our preconceived notions of how to experience the passage of time?

2012-01-15T20:52:00.000-08:00

Golden Globes Wrap-Up 2012

The Golden Globes just ended and I have more questions than answers. Why was Jessica Biel wearing her grandmother's wedding dress? Better yet, why was Jessica Biel at the Golden Globes at all? At least Antonio Banderas and Melanie Griffith had the excuse of Puss In Boots being nominated, although really, who shows up to be honored for their voice work? Plus, I honestly thought that Melanie Griffith was Carol Burnett when I first saw her. But of course that's not right, because Carol Burnett still works occasionally.

I have to say it was pretty enjoyable overall, despite the fact that I had little or no interest in most of the nominees. I'm sorry, but I can't really get amped up about seeing George Clooney come to terms with his wife being in a coma or Tilda Swinton come to terms with her son being a school shooter or Michael Fassbender come to terms with his penis. Frankly, I think we're all much better off not coming to terms with things. Unless the thing is explosive diarrhea, because that is hilarious.

Anyway, award shows can be fun, unless they're the Grammys. Madonna's arms were an atrocity, as was the fact of Madonna winning yet another Golden Globe. On the other hand, Jane Fonda served as a tribute to the power of good plastic surgery, low-impact exercise, and having been married to a very, very wealthy person. She's already won a bunch of awards, so what the hell does she care? Which is also, coincidentally, why Meryl Streep is allowed to roll out of bead, pull her hair back into a ponytail, put on a country-western-looking skort and head over to pick up her Golden Globe. At this point, she's just begging them to stop giving her things.

2012-01-11T18:48:00.000-08:00

Training Day

Normally I take a cab home from work. The firm pays for it, it's quick, and I can talk to my friends on the phone while someone else drives. There are drawbacks, of course. If I can't reach anyone on the phone and I have a talkative cab driver, there's the terrifying specter of having to chuckle demonstratively at various inanities or, worse yet, avoid advising someone about his immigration problems. If I can't reach anyone on the phone and I don't have a talkative cab driver, meanwhile, there's still the possibility of Christian radio or, worse yet, talk radio. (The Delilah I don't really mind that much.) And recently, there's motion sickness. Apparently my inner ear is not ready for me to manage my Tiny Tower while hurtling around a corner at 40 miles per hour.

But anyway, this week I've decided to take the train home from work and it turns out to be sort of great! It's not especially crowded by the time I can leave the office and, since I've been hitting the station right as a train gets there, it's actually been faster than taking a cab home. I can read without feeling like I need to throw up (unless the New Yorker's running yet another Malcom Gladwell piece, but that's not the train's fault) and put in my headphones without fear that someone will think I'm rude or start shouting at me about the directions. Plus it kind of makes me feel like a real person again. Yes, in the spirit of the Republican primaries, I've decided there are "real" people and fake people, and now I'm one of the real ones. Just Joe Sixpack living the American Dream.

I'm guessing this won't last, but it's a noble experiment. Unlike that one I did with kerosene and firecrackers in the sixth grade.

2012-01-08T21:31:00.000-08:00

Tower Heist

I have become shamefully addicted to an iPhone app. Well, several, actually, but the current addiction is by far the worst I've had. I mean, I spent a solid week playing Family Feud five times a day, but that was just a blip compared to this. Words With Friends continues to draw my attention three or four times a day through the present, but that is by comparison rational. And Angry Birds is awesome, but it sort of gives me a headache, so it's never truly obsessed me. But Tiny Tower, of all things, has more or less taken over my life.

You see, Tiny Tower combines the addictive micromanaging of my favorite PC classics like SimCity and Civilization with the constant access of a handheld device. The result is that, whereas I used to have to eventually power down my computer and go to work after playing the Sims for, say, sixteen hours straight, with Tiny Tower I can just carry it with me. And although I do shut it down while I'm at work, I check it at lunch. And when I'm on my way to fill up my water bottle. And sometimes in the elevator. This is definitely a sickness.

To explain it to you in brief, the game has you manage a high-rise tower with all different kinds of restaurants, stores, and residences in it. You operate everything -- the elevators, the hiring, the stock of the businesses -- and can spend money to add on floors and buy cool new accessories and stuff. It keeps moving 24 hours a day, even when you're not paying attention, so when you come back after a while everything is completely messed up and you have to spend hours fixing it.

I'm cringing as I type this from how lame it sounds, but I can't help myself. I've finally found a game that is the functional equivalent of work and I think I'm in love.

2012-01-03T22:01:00.000-08:00

Help Wanted

I watched The Help on demand tonight. The choices I was presented with were Friends With Benefits, Beastly, and The Help, so I think I chose wisely. I'm pretty sure that watching Beastly can give you hives.

Anyway, I learned a lot about the horrors of racism by watching this movie. For instance, I had not previously understood how much white chicks with bad hair and glasses suffered during the civil rights movement. The plucky maids definitely seemed to feel their pain.

The other thing you definitely need to know about The Help is that Bryce Dallas Howard plays like the most awful human being ever. Or maybe she's not acting, I don't know. But there's a lot of hair tossing and nostril flaring involved.

Viola Davis is pretty great. I'm not saying that just about this movie, I'm saying it in general. She was super solid in Doubt, too. I do continually find myself wishing that she would actually play the viola, however. How fantastic would that be?

But overall, I guess I'm just super glad that we've finally got this whole racism thing beat. Mad props to us.

2012-01-01T12:00:00.000-08:00

2011: The Year That Was

Another year has come and gone. Are large parts of it sort of fuzzy memories for you? Perhaps I can help with this list of 2011's highlights and lowlights, as determined by an entirely scientific survey of me:

Highlight: The Lifetime Movie Network. It's just nice to know that Rebecca Romijn and Nicole Eggert have somewhere to go to keep them off the streets. And the production values! There's no reason the set from your high school production of that Neil Simon play should go to waste.

Lowlight: Transformers 3. What was once entertainingly nonsensical has now just become boring. And who would have thought that Megan Fox's acting would end up seeming understated by comparison?

Highlight: The CVS clinic on Southport. It's near my house and I was able to just walk in and confirm I did not have the plague within an hour. Which left much more time for lying helpless in my bed and praying for the sweet release of death.

Lowlight: Netflix pausing to load content like six times in the middle of Insidious. Watching Barbara Hershey in freeze frame for five minutes is not the sort of suspense I had in mind.

Highlight: The box of Bottlecaps I bought at the Wal-Mart in Quincy. I'd forgotten about Bottlecaps, honestly, but they're amazing. There's like six flavors, some of which I cannot tell apart. I need to find a dealer in Chicago.

Lowlight: The forty-five minute flight to Indianapolis in a plane so tiny I can barely fit my magazine into the space between me and the seat in front of me. Although the food court at the Indy airport is comparatively glamorous.

Highlight: The Arab Spring. At first I had this confused with Spring Awakening, but then I noticed the lack of sexy teens. But anyway, I am all for democracy until it results in the election of someone unpalatable to the US.

Lowlight: The endless Republican debates. Seriously, it's been going on longer than Kate Winslet's Oscar campaign. And with a similar degree of desperation. Although I do think Rick Santorum would have been great in The Holiday.

2011-12-29T20:36:00.000-08:00

Throwing a Fit

So we got the Wii Fit for Christmas and it apparently hates us. The first thing it did was tell everyone how fat they were. Seriously, I'm 6'1" and it wants me to weigh 165 pounds. I would look like Karen Carpenter. Then it made me do a bunch of balance tests that I didn't understand the instructions for and therefore bombed and then, based on those, told me that my Wii Fit age is 50. Oh, and it made my avatar chunky. It should probably keep in mind that even fat people can throw small machines in the dumpster.

The games are fairly enjoyable, though. There's one where you throw snowballs at all your friends, which is immensely satisfying. I also like the ski jump because it makes me feel intensely athletic for doing almost nothing at all. Oh, and there's a weird Japanese step game where there's an audience of people allegedly watching you and your 20 closest friends step up and down and clap your hands in rhythm. Seriously, the crowd goes wild. I'm just going to assume it's cultural.

I need to get back to the real gym, though, unfortunately. I've missed several days over the past two weeks and two kickboxing classes in a row. If I'm not careful, I'll actually look like my avatar, which in turn sort of looks like the kid from Two and a Half Men. Sad.

2011-12-27T14:09:00.000-08:00

The Holiday

How can I sum up my holiday in Quincy? I don't think that I really can. Words cannot express, for instance, the joy of running into one's former high school teacher in the home furnishings section of the TJ Maxx. Nor can they fully convey the beauty of an off-key rendition of The Little Drummer Boy performed by a large angry lady who has honest-to-God named her firstborn child Palin. And the Pizza Hut buffet? Clearly indescribable.

I can tell you, however, about the amazing morning I spent with my parents freaking out about my laptop power cord. I casually observed that it didn't appear to be channeling electricity into my laptop, at which point we went into a full-on code red situation that resulted in no less than two trips to Best Buy and the straightfaced suggestion that perhaps I should just buy a new laptop as opposed to a new cord. My parents argued over whether my dad should just have his friend Steve look at my laptop and then segued into an explanation of how they "know someone" at Best Buy so we won't "get taken advantage of." Then, when I eventually just found a sane person at Best Buy who sold me the right power cord, I was cross examined as to whether this really provided a sound solution to the problem. Not to spoil the ending for you, but I'm typing on the laptop right now.

Also, we saw the new Sherlock Holmes movie. It was all right. I'm still not quite sure why Noomi Rapace was there, but that's probably going to be true of a lot of things. Also it was about two and a half hours. I'll say it right now: nothing should ever be two and a half hours. Except for Titanic 3D, of course. It can be two and a half days as far as I'm concerned; my heart will go on.

2011-12-25T08:08:00.001-08:00

Merry Christmas to All...

If you had asked me twenty years ago what the holiday season in 2011 would look like, I would have gotten it very wrong. I probably would have told you that we’d all be throwing on our Hammer pants and Simpsons t-shirts to ride our rocket bikes down to the laser tag arena for some computer-generated eggnog and virtual reality fruitcake. I never would have predicted that I’d be practicing law in Chicago (I believe my chosen career at that point was still President of Awesome), that my sister would be an educational researcher (most of her research then had to do with Days of Our Lives), or that many of my friends would have started families of their own by now (starting a new level of Tetris was about the most we could handle). I certainly couldn’t have guessed that the holidays would involve TSA gropedowns or a new spin on the Immaculate Conception from Justin Bieber. Or Pajama Jeans. If I had seen those coming, I might have just stopped the passage of time in protest, like Zack Morris or that spunky little alien girl who had so many comic ladder mishaps on Out of this World.

To my credit, however, I bet I would have predicted a few things correctly. The styles for holiday sweaters haven’t changed much -- elves that look like Rhea Perlman and puffy paint are still right on trend -- and I’m pretty sure the exact same fruitcake has been going back and forth between my parents and their neighbors who decided to "build their own ski jump" for the past three decades. Oddly enough, Mariah Carey is still around and still wearing that fur-fringed holiday tube top that gives teenaged boys weird warm feelings about the birth of their lord and savior, and my grandmother is still misremembering holidays from forty years ago, to the point that she now believes she spent her Kwanzaas during Watergate doing the Lindy Hop with Scott Baio at the International House of Pancakes. And somehow I believe that, even twenty years ago, I could easily have predicted the quick and colorful demise of Kim Kardashian’s sham marriage. As a general rule of thumb, the length of any given marriage is inversely proportional to the number of NASCAR-style endorsement deals involved. That’s just science, like gravity or Haylie Duff’s experiences on Celebrity Ghost Stories.

So the 1991 version of me would not, I guess, have been wrong about everything, no matter what my awkward side part and devotion to math team might have led you to believe. And in 2011 I found that, for all my access to high quality skin care products and entertainment options that do not involve pacing back and forth outside of the Spencer’s, the current version of me still has a lot left to learn. I went to Switzerland for work in March, which taught me a great deal about what not to dip in fondue and why simply watching Schindler’s List repeatedly was not an effective method of high school German instruction. This summer I attempted some basic home repairs, thereby learning that I should never attempt even the most basic of home repairs as well as the importance of maintaining a complete first aid kit in one’s home. (It turns out that paper towels are not a great substitute for bandages and bug spray is no substitute at all for antibacterial cream.) And this fall I helped coach a moot court team at Northwestern, which led me to understand that contemporary law students are more interested in learning about international comity than enjoying your hilarious Ruth Bader Ginsburg impression and may not ever have even heard of Matlock. I like to think that we learned from each other, although somehow I doubt that’s what the evaluations will say.

Regardless, here’s to so many great years of holiday seasons past and to the many great years that I know are still yet to come. May your 2012s be happy, healthy, and wholly unlike the John Cusack feature of the same name!

2011-12-22T20:22:00.000-08:00

Hitting the Wal

I'm back at my parents' house for the holiday. They never have any of the food that I eat on hand, so I had to run out to Wal-Mart so I don't starve. Now I'm thinking that maybe I should have just starved. For some reason, it turns out that 9 PM on a Thursday night is the peak time for food buying in Quincy and also the low tide for checkouts being open at Wal-Mart. I was in a line five people deep trying to buy my mini cereal boxes and Bottlecaps candies (okay, that was an impulse buy), and that was the short line. And let me tell you, people buy in bulk here. All the carts in front of me looked like they might collapse under the weight of their purchases. I have never seen toilet paper packages so large.

Anyway, I tried to play on my phone while I was waiting, but the wireless network at Wal-Mart required that I digitally agree to about three-pages of tiny all caps sentences, and I was afraid I might end up as a towel boy at the Walton Manor, so I had to give up. After about fifteen minutes I got up to second in line, which was when the real tragedy struck. The woman in front of me had two separate orders and paid for both by personal check. Very slowly written personal check. And the last item in her second order was fifteen Wal-Mart gift cards, each of which had to be scanned and activated separately. Which easily took ten minutes. She kept trying to make awkward jokes to me about it while it was happening but I just pretended I had Aspergers. Actually, by that point, I may not have been pretending.

I guess the good news is that the holidays have nowhere to go but up.

2011-12-20T21:17:00.000-08:00

Friends with Benefits

Today at work we had a meeting about our benefits. I love these meetings because they invariably turn into therapy sessions where everyone pours out all of their convoluted personal issues. Also because sometimes there are snacks. But mainly for the unfocused rants. We were barely into the medical insurance options when the fun began.

"So I get it that on the high deductible plan, I can't get an FSA. But can my wife still get an FSA? She really wants to get an FSA."

"Well, that would really depend on your wife's insurance."

"Okay, well, if she gets an FSA, what kind of things can she spend that on?"

A twenty minute digression followed. Then came an unforeseen opinion segment of the program.

"I mean, I guess what I don't understand is why anyone would get that other insurance? Doesn't it seem like this insurance is just much better? I mean, who wants that other plan?"

Then came the disability portion, which seemed to strike a chord with many of my coworkers, who apparently have semi-definite plans to become disabled.

"Now, does it count as a disability if I'm injured and I can still work, but I can't do the same kind of work I do now? Like, what if I have a stroke or something and I can't go to court any more or something like that?"

And "If I get disability benefits, are they subject to tax? Would there be withholding?"

I'm sorry, but if I end up in a wheelchair passing my days watching old episodes of Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman, the last thing I'm going to be worrying about is withholding.

Then there was life insurance.

"What if I want to have three different beneficiaries, but I really want them just to work it out among themselves who gets how much of it or something like that? How do I do that?"

Dude, you're going to be dead. Let them just fight over it with pointed sticks.

2011-12-18T17:11:00.000-08:00

'Tis the Season

We had our firm holiday breakfast last week. It was close on the heels of our building holiday breakfast, but they are not the same thing. The firm breakfast featured waffles, turkey bacon, and an employee gift that provided a full week of elevator small talk. The building breakfast featured student string players, yogurt parfaits that one feared had not been adequately refrigerated, and uncomfortable drafts. Both, of course, were an utter joy. I'm a sucker for trans fats and secretaries in reindeer sweaters, what can I tell you?

I also had the Shakespeare Theatre this week, which I ended up enjoying not so much for the first time ever. It was a non-Shakespeare play by a contemporary writer whose name I have forgotten. The acting was good, but suffice it to say that two hours is more than I want to spend hearing people talk about gender roles. Now if it were cinnamon rolls, it would be a different story.

I'm hoping to head down to see my folks for the holiday sometime this week. Departure date remains very much up in the air, however. Why can't I just have a month's vacation for Christmas like when I was in college and law school? I won't blow it drinking boxed wine and reading young adult fiction this time, I swear.

2011-12-15T21:23:00.000-08:00

Strong

On Wednesday I was forced to admit that I was exhausted and struggling at work all day because I had stayed up late the night before watching Country Strong with Gwyneth Paltrow.

I probably should not say more than that, because it will clearly incriminate me, but I think this confession is good for my soul.

It was supposed to be an ironic thing. And it was going to be in two parts. But then somehow everyone wanted to finish it. Maybe just to get it over with. But it was two hours long. And so full of Leighton Meester, doing her best Streetcar Named Desire accent. And Gwyneth acting all messed up and angry. It was quite the spectacle. There was yelling, crying, stumbling -- and that was just in my living room.

The most remarkable thing about the movie is that there is not really a single likable character in it. Unless you count the conversion van the band rides around in. I've got nothing against conversion vans.

And yet, when the movie was over, I found myself in a room full of people saying it was really not that bad. I fear Gwyneth Paltrow Stockholm Syndrome is spreading. Suddenly I have the urge to start a macrobiotic diet and watch A View From the Top.

2011-12-12T21:40:00.000-08:00

Tribute

Just when I said I was lacking in inspiration, here comes Entertainment Weekly's Entertainers of the Year issue, like a gift from sarcasm heaven. Not only did they name a child star with a barely-tamed unibrow their entertainer of the year, they also gave us the gift of having random celebrities write all of the tributes. So Julia Roberts tells us why Adele is so great. Because, yeah, Julia Roberts is a musical Svengali on the level of a Phil Spector, but without the awkward criminal overtones. Sandra Bullock explains the awesomeness of Trey Parker and Matt Stone, but never manages to drop that "aw, shucks, I'm so sincere and lovable" schtick that won her Meryl Streep's Oscar. And David Fincher sings the praises of Brad Pitt, presumably because Scorcese was not available. I really look forward to next year's edition, when Alice Walker pays tribute to Anna Faris and the ghost of Katherine Hepburn toasts Nicki Minaj.

2011-12-10T17:08:00.001-08:00

Hot & Cold

For some reason it is freezing in my house today. I guess the fact that it is also freezing outside probably has something to do with it, but still, craking up the thermostat has to be good for something. To be fair, it is really only my feet that are freezing, despite the fact that I am wearing two pairs of socks and my shoes. My grandmother has always said that means I have poor circulation, but I like to think it means I'm amazing. Regardless, after this I think I am going to go build (read: push the button that turns on) a fire.

I have been remiss this week in not mentioning the Shocking Top Model First that occurred on Wednesday. Perhaps I was just too emotionally damaged to talk about it. Or perhaps I just felt like eating my weight in lasagna at Leona's and watching movies instead. But regardless, Queen Angelea is dead, long live Queen Angelea. I especially enjoyed the fact that Lisa had gotten a nose job between the first and second times that they filmed the finale. She must have gone to Ashlee Simpson's doctor because it looks pretty good.

I have also been remiss in pretty much not posting at all lately. I'm just sort of lacking in inspiration. I'd rather not post at all than post something lame and boring. Present post excluded, of course.

2011-12-06T20:37:00.001-08:00

Bank Failure

So this morning I managed to wipe out spectacularly on the way back to my office from the bank. I really have no idea how this one happened. I was coming down a short flight of stairs right off of Clark street and I suddenly found my face headed towards the ground at an alarming rate. I grabbed the handrail and tried to steady myself, but that really only resulted in an odd twisting motion that left me crumpled up in a semi-fetal position against the curb. Of course, strangers ran over to help me, which only made me feel more like a 85-year-old invalid. It's so helpful when people point out to you that you've had a bad fall, because otherwise you might not even notice.

I do sort of wish I'd been able to see myself do it, though. It had to have been pretty spectacular. My only real regret is that I wasn't carrying a sheaf of papers or something, so that it could be scattered willy nilly in the wind. Oh, and that it happened to me and not some wealthy dowager. Those crusty old gals really have it coming.

2011-12-04T10:16:00.001-08:00

Big Night

Last night was a big night. Dinner at Chili's followed by the Muppets and bed by 11:30. Chili's was fantastic as usual; we got a prime seat next to the window overlooking the circle drive of the hotel next door, and both the chips and the Diet Cokes were bottomless. And all the festivities were sponsored by a gift card, so the Southwestern Egg Rolls were truly guilt free, aside from the unavoidable knowledge that,with the passage of time, they will surely kill you.

The Muppets was pretty good as well. I of course was a huge fan of the Muppets back in the day and have modeled many of my modern day personality traits on Sam the American Eagle. The Great Muppet Caper introduced my long-term career ambition to be a jewel thief, and I still bear the scars of Kermit's inappropriate flirtation with that harlot Jenny in The Muppets Take Manhattan. Also I have a vague and fortunately latent desire to play the banjo. But anyway, I was skeptical about the new take, fearing some sort of postmoderny take on Muppetism, but it's pretty straightforward. Chris Cooper raps, which never should have been allowed to happen, but there are plenty of other good gags and the characters seem more or less in tact. I will definitely be pushing Selena Gomez for an Academy Award for Best Three Line Cameo this year.

2011-12-01T20:36:00.001-08:00

Possibly The Greatest Thing I Have Ever Said

My Sister: I didn't carry my iPad with me today. We've had a lot of mugging on campus lately.
Jay: A lot of mugging? What, does Raven go there now?

And a grateful nation gives its thanks.

2011-11-28T21:14:00.001-08:00

Church, Redlined

I went to church with my parents this past weekend and I'll be damned if they didn't change it since the last time I was there. Instead of "one in being with the father," it's now "consubstantial with the father." Instead of "and also with you," it's now "and with your spirit." Instead of "god of power and might," it is now "god of hosts." It was honestly pretty amazing because I got to watch elderly people who have been Catholic their entire lives trip over their words and fumble for their little card setting out all the changes. I'm not sure that comedy was the motivating factor behind the changes, but they have certainly delivered.

And now that I know we can just go ahead and change the mass, I have a lot of great suggestions for how we could punch it up a little bit. Eating the body of Christ is a bit of a downer, so why don't we eat his Cool Ranch Doritos instead? Shaking hands to share the peace of Christ is a big germ spreader, so I would suggest that everyone simply text one another instead. Or ask one another to play FastMoney on Family Feud. And that whole death and resurrection thing? Sort of asking for a leap of faith, don't you think? How about He just sticks the landing on His vault despite a sprained ankle? Now that was a classic moment in TV entertainment.

2011-11-26T14:09:00.001-08:00

Thanks, A Lot

In the spirit of the season, here are some things I'm thankful for right now. I've purposefully omitted the obvious, like my family, friends, America, and Jesus. This isn't ABC Family, although I can see how you might be confused about that.

-- Family Feud & Friends for iPhone. Now I can remind myself that I apparently have nothing in common with 100 average Americans every time I turn on my phone. And my sister can litter my Facebook wall with requests to help her with FastMoney, which only sounds dirty.

-- Chili's. What can I say? I just love a good queso skillet. And now that I know I can get it delivered, I don't ever need to leave the house.

-- Kickboxing. Yes, it is filled with crazy people, including a woman who is always sick and a gentleman who appears to be auditioning for the Rockettes. But I've lost more than ten pounds, and that's despite my affection for the previous item on this list.

-- The Hunger Games Trilogy. The past few months have been pretty rough for me, but these books made certain parts of them fly by. Just like my stop on the Red Line as I got a bit too caught up in Catching Fire.

-- Revenge. Not the actual act of revenge, just the show with the girl from Everwood on ABC. It's weird to be hooked on something I never thought I would watch in the first place.

-- Rainbow Nerds. A handful of these make me just hyper enough to make it through an hour or two of my workday. Plus they teach us all a valuable lesson about racial understanding.

-- International Business Class. I always thought people were jerks for paying extra so they could fully recline and have their own little entertainment station. I still do, but now I'm probably going to have to sign up for jerkdom myself.

Obviously just a small sampling. I'm thankful every day, at least in between bouts of random rage.

2011-11-25T08:27:00.001-08:00

Remote Viewing

Did you ever notice that Matlock got a lot of fairly hot tail for a half-senile senior citizen? I mean, don't get me wrong, it's not like Cindy Crawford (back when she was still CINDY CRAWFORD) was guest starring as a leggy DA with a heart of gold, but there were plenty of cool blondes in their mid forties willing to slip him a subpoena, if you know what I mean, and I'm not sure that I even do. Of course, it's hard to tell if any of those ladies really had a body under their dickies and teal power suits, but they certainly weren't old balls like Matlock. They say he never lost a case, but the matter of Matlock versus man handles certainly didn't turn out very well for him.

As the foregoing likely suggests, my TV habits tend to change a bit when I'm at my parents' house. I'm always hesitant to suggest programming choices ever since that incident in the eighth grade where they faulted me for A Different World allegedly being salacious. (I think Whitley bought condoms or something.) So every morning kicks off with back-to-back Matlocks and our evenings are filled with Law & Orders and Mythbusters. I have actually reached the stage now where I find the former's hourly murders to be rather relaxing, although Sam Waterston's insurance commercials still put me on edge. Mythbusters and I will never truly be friends, however, as it reminds me too much of something a fourth grade teacher would try to show you to convince you that science is cool. Suck it, science, you will never be sports or entertainment.

2011-11-24T18:44:00.001-08:00

Thanks

I'm kind of a fan of Thanksgiving. This should probably not be a surprise to anyone, given my well-known affection for days off and binge eating. If it were fiscally possible for me to quit my job and move into a Chili's, I would certainly do so without hesitation. But man does not live by Southwestern Egg Rolls alone.

Anyway, we started the day off with the Macy's parade, which I always love for its utterly random combinations of celebrities. There is truly nothing like seeing Ozzy Osbourne and the cast of Glee on the Campbell's Chicken Noodle Float singing a Rosemary Clooney Christmas classic. And it's even better when buttressed on both sides by interviews with the stars of "hit" NBC shows. How better to kick off the holidays than with that guy who used to be on Road Rules and now "stars" on Grimm?

As usual, our holiday feast was at a local buffet restaurant, which afforded me the opportunity to load up on empty carbs and my 100-year-old grandmother the opportunity to complain about the ambient noise. In a show of my extreme dedication to my personal health, I agreed to split a dessert with my sister.

Now we're doing a puzzle and watching Elf on cable. If the day's cholesterol count doesn't kill me, the excitement might.

2011-11-23T16:08:00.001-08:00

Vacation Time

Yesterday was sort of a weird day. I took the day off from work, which I hadn't done in a very long time. I sort of didn't know what to do with myself. I still got up at 7:15 and went to the gym. Then I came home and actually logged on to my office accounts for a while before realizing that that sort of defeated the purpose of having a day off. Eventually I went to get a massage. Getting rubbed by a stranger for two hours was kind of disorienting. Also my sinuses got really stopped up while I was lying on that weird circular face pillow and I almost suffocated. I did leave vaguely relaxed, although that sort of ended the minute I stepped out into the cold, disgusting rain. Such good times.

I also took an Amtrak train back to my parents' house last night. If you have not ever taken Amtrak before a major holiday, do not do so. I don't like to throw the phrase "mob scene" around, but this fit any sensible person's definition. The good people of Amtrak (a sassy black lady and a sassy white lady, so far as I could tell) apparently decided to close off their boarding lounges on one of the busiest travel days of the year. And so hundreds of people thronged in the lower level lobby of Union Station, asking each other whether they were on the same train and whether anyone knew what the hell was going on and, occasionally, pushing each other. I kept thinking back to the New Yorker article I read about people getting crushed in crowds on Black Friday. I've noticed it's never a good sign if something reminds me of the New Yorker, and not just because I have a restraining order against Malcom Gladwell.

Anyway, I made it back alive. And I have accomplished very little today. I think I could maybe get used to this whole "time off" thing.

2011-11-19T10:17:00.001-08:00

Victory Shall Be Mine

I've undertaken a new initiative that seems bound to completely transform my life for the better and I am very excited about it. It's called the Jewel-Osco Wish Big Win Big Holiday Giveaway, and it involves more than $30 million in prizes and money saving offers, all $30 million of which I'm pretty certain I'm 100% likely to win. The way it works is that you get a game board and, by shopping at Jewel-Osco, collect various food-themed markers to adhere to it with your own saliva. (It's very much like the McDonald's Monopoly promotion, but without the benefit of having licensed the Monopoly name. Or the benefit of french fries dipped in beef fat, for that matter.) If you collect five or six markers in a certain category, you win that prize. And what prizes they are! I'm just one Diamond Nut Toppings marker away from winning a $2 cash prize, and two pepperoni-themed markers away from a $100 digital camera. (The one on the game board is red, but I'm hoping I can get it in another color. Or maybe trade it for something I don't already own.) Where it really gets exciting though is when you get to the vehicles of your dreams, so long as you do not dream of a vehicle that is worth more than $25,000. (Or $50,000, but I'm still four Chex-related markers short on that category.) There's also a $10,000 vacation to an unspecified but vaguely tropical-looking location, which I can only assume is not a leper colony. But anyway, the point is that I'm clearly going to win this competition, because I can buy groceries and lick stamps with the best of them. I don't remember college very well, but I'm pretty sure that was my major.

2011-11-17T20:48:00.001-08:00

TV Time

Nick at Nite is now running a two hour block of Friends every night. Although it's sort of weird for me to experience as nostalgia something I actually lived through the first time around, it's also kind of fun to watch Chandler's weight fluctuate wildly and Ross's hair take on a life of its own. Plus the characters become broader and broader over the years until Monica is borderline obsessive compulsive and Joey is essentially retarded. Phoebe and Rachel I'm pretty okay with, though. Jennifer Aniston is so much less sad as a character than in real life.

I'm still rocking the Reba in the mornings, though. Right now they're on the later seasons where Cheyenne had her comic alcohol problem and Kyra disappeared without explanation for like ten episodes. It's not exactly a golden era in American television, but in the first half hour of the day it's about all I can handle. ABC Family is now offering What I Like About You, which is very tempting, but I'm just not sure I can process the wit and wisdom of an Amanda Bynes at the break of day.

2011-11-15T20:57:00.001-08:00

Talking Turkey

Every year I engage in a fantastic tradition of bathing a turkey in my tub every night for a week. You see, we always have turkey for Thanksgiving, as many folks do, and before one can eat the turkey, one must thaw it out. Dressing the turkey in a plastic bag and helping it enjoy a room temperature soak is the method that Roommate Liz introduced me to many moons ago. And no, now that you ask, I am not entirely sure that she was not just fucking with me.

I do sort of enjoy spending some quality time with the carcass I'm planning to eat, though. You feel as though you really get to know the dead bird -- its likes, its dislikes, its buoyancy. For instance, I can tell you that this turkey is about 15 pounds, but seems much heavier when frozen. And that it has a cold, cold embrace. It's like the Gwyneth Paltrow of the avian world.

The weird part is that I don't even really like turkey very much. It sort of tastes like paper to me. But I do very much like gorging myself generally, so I think we'll get along just fine, thank you very much.

2011-11-12T13:34:00.001-08:00

Rise, Shine

I am not a morning person. On more than one occasion, I have tossed my alarm clock across the room. I spend the first half hour of any given day wanting to kill anyone who crosses my path. I do not believe that people should be legally permitted to schedule 9 AM meetings. But recently I have taken to getting up early on weekdays and reaching the office by 8. The reason? It seems that early morning is the only time I can get people to leave me the eff alone. From nine on it's constant phone calls, emails, meetings, pop ins. Even at night there's the occasional stray email demanding something impossible while I'm trying to play Just Dance 3. But unreasonableness likes to sleep in, it seems. Yesterday I managed to write three pages of a brief AND have a bowel movement all between 8 and 9. Of course, I also went to bed at 10:30 last night. A Friday night. I guess I'll have to decide whether I value my social life more than my productivity.

2011-11-10T21:16:00.001-08:00

Plan Accordingly

Tonight I was involved in a dispute about the ratings for According to Jim. (They were not that great, in case you were wondering.) Obviously this is very strange and sad. But the good news is that this led me to the Wikipedia entry for According to Jim, which share all sorts of amazing fun facts. To wit:

-- Jim is an abrasive but lovable suburban father.
-- Much like his real life counterpart, Jim's character is noted as a fan of blues music.
-- Jim often finds himself in messy situations because his laziness inclines him to search for alternative ways of doing things with less effort.
-- Jim often makes an example of Andy, who doesn't have a girlfriend.

-- Although Jim did not beat the competition, it performed well enough to secure itself that spot on the 2003 fall schedule.
-- In December 2008, co-star Larry Joe Campbell said that the sets had been destroyed, indicating that the series was cancelled, but that a series finale had been recorded.

But the best part is the listing of all the names the show has internationally. Because yes, they show According to Jim in Estonia. Take a gander at this:

-- Albania: Jeta sipas Xhimit
-- Arab World: على مقاييس جيم
-- Austria: Jim hat immer Recht! (Jim is always right!)
-- Brazil: O Jim é Assim
-- Bulgaria: Питайте Джим (Pitaytie Jim, Ask Jim)
-- Croatia: Svijet prema Jimu
-- Estonia: Jimi maailm
-- Finland: Perheen kalleudet
-- Germany: Immer wieder Jim (Jim again and again)
-- Hungary: Jim szerint a világ
-- Israel: החיים לפי ג'ים (HOT family/yes stars Base)
-- Italy: La vita secondo Jim
-- Latvia: Džima dēļ
-- Macedonia: Како ќе каже Џим
-- Montenegro: Prema Jimu
-- Poland: Jim wie lepiej (Jim knows better)
-- Portugal: O mundo de Jim
-- Romania: Vorba lu' Jim
-- Russia: Как сказал Джим (Kak skazal Jim, Jim says)
-- Serbia: Život po Džimu
-- Slovakia: Bláznivý Jimmov život
-- Slovenia: Jimova družina
-- Switzerland: La vita secondo Jim
-- Spain: El mundo según Jim
-- Ukraine: Як сказав Джим (Yak skazal Jim, Jim says)

You are very welcome.

2011-11-07T17:07:00.000-08:00

Dental Science

I feel like I write about going to the dentist every single time I go to the dentist, but I swear that unusual things always happen there. Or maybe it's just that the whole setup is unusual: you're lying flat on your back in the middle of a workplace on a weekday, a stranger is poking around in your mouth with little pointy sticks, and invariably someone is trying to make small talk with you while you are on the verge of gagging. But anyway, if my dentistry-related writings are not your cup of tea, I apologize. Although I frankly don't mean it, because I'm kind of a jerk that way.

So the good news is that my dentist seems finally to have found a sane hygienist. Typically they land somewhere on the scale between Amy Fisher and Tori Spelling playing Amy Fisher in a Lifetime movie, but this one seemed fine. She did not express any extreme political views, state any uncomfortable opinions about my physical appearance, or purposefully try to hurt me in any way. In fact, she barely spoke at all, which is 100% my preference. I find it very hard to be witty on the subject of tartar buildup.

The bad news is that my dentist decided to have an awkward confrontation with me about whether I have sensitive tooth pain. He simply refused to believe that I did not. He asked me the question about six different ways and, when the answer remained no, decided to cross examine me with his various observations about the inside of my mouth. To be fair, I have never heard it so breathtakingly described. But I was still not able to change my answer, which led to a lot of disappointed muttering.

So my new theory is that there's a sort of craziness equilibrium that must be achieved in any given workplace, so when one person stops producing, others have to pick of the slack. Don't you just love science?

2011-11-05T14:15:00.000-07:00

Disturbances

Two disturbing things happened to me at the grocery store today. First, I was approached by a man dressed up as a Christmas present, who asked me to donate for the poor and downtrod this holiday season. It was simultaneously the most depressing and frightening thing I had ever seen. It was all I could do to stop myself from just handing him my credit card and telling him to have a nice time. Second, I was somehow talked into playing the Jewel/Osco equivalent of a Monopoly promotion, which caused me to spend roughly twenty minutes licking the backs of little glossy piece of paper and attaching them to a paper game board. I did not win anything and I likely have scabies as a result.

2011-11-04T19:07:00.000-07:00

There and Back

I went to St. Louis for work on Wednesday. I don't have a lot to say about St. Louis because I was there for maybe seven hours, including the time I spent at the airport. I remember it fondly from my childhood, however, mainly because the zoo has this fun train you can ride and lots of giraffes. Oh, and there's a kids' museum where you can slide down a three story slide and make your hair stand up on end by touching a metal ball. I did none of those things on Wednesday, I fear.

I did have a forty-five minute altercation with my rental car company, during which time they lost my reservation, couldn't find me a car, couldn't find me a GPS, couldn't run my credit card, and then made me ride a shuttle bus to my rental. Also I flew all the way out there with one of those middle-aged men who knows everything sitting right behind me, along with an off-duty pilot who got to be treated to middle-aged man's many explanations of how airplanes work. Oh, and I was accosted by a crazy lady in the security line on the way back, who spent the entire time we were in the line obsessing out loud about whether the other line was moving faster and why there wasn't a line for "premier" passengers at this airport, like there is at Dulles. When you are waxing nostalgic about Dulles, you know you are in trouble.

But I lived through it, and now I'm watching Reba. Like our red-headed comic titan sings in her theme song, I'm a survivor.

2011-10-31T19:31:00.000-07:00

Mishaps

I knew it was going to be a good day today when, on my way in on the train this morning, a lady reached out for the pole I was standing next to and instead accidentally jammed her fingernails into my face. I was so surprised and she was so obviously horrified that when she apologized I responded by saying "oh no, it's quite all right," as though it could in any way be all right to be mauled during your morning commute. Then I tried to ignore it for the rest of my journey, until I found I was in fact bleeding down my forehead. I just told all of my coworkers I was in a street fight, which they were all too eager to believe.

As it turned out, the trip home was precarious, too. They have a Halloween "parade" on Halsted every year, by which I mean a bunch of people strolling around awkwardly in costumes, and this year they apparently felt the need to shut down Addison from Broadway to Sheffield. So I got an extra twenty minutes of cab time as my driver attempted to find some way around the madness. Which was good, because there were a lot of legal questions he still wanted to ask and have me refuse to answer. And I still got to walk an extra three blocks after the dropoff.

All of which is just a roundabout way of explaining why I plan on eating this jumbo box of Nerds tonight. I deserve this happiness because I suffer so.

2011-10-29T15:55:00.000-07:00

Sloth, Etc.

They've recently opened a health food restaurant and a cupcake shop across the street from my office. In the six months they healthy place has been around, I've been there once, and I almost threw up some quinoa. In the approximately two weeks the cupcake place has been open, I've already been there twice. Should I just sign up for the dialysis now?

I also decided to sleep in and skip my kickboxing and core classes this morning. Last week there was an unfortunate incident where I snapped at the teacher because he told us to hold an abdominal plank for a minute and thirty seconds and then started blathering on about music in the '80s or something and still hadn't let us release after two minutes and fifteen seconds. Also I was having a lovely dream where I was best friends with Tina Fey. I did swim for a while this afternoon, though, until "family swim time" set in and I was besieged by children doing cannonballs into my lane. My new fitness plan is going to be based entirely on my good intentions.

I think as a result of my late start, I feel as though I've been spectacularly unproductive today. It also may have something to do with the fact that I keep randomly getting caught up in the Top Chef: All Stars marathon. And going out to the kitchen to eat wheat crackers with onion and chive cream cheese. Every so often, I genuinely feel the need to become the lowest form of life.

2011-10-27T16:47:00.000-07:00

Word Whomp

I've decided that every time I have trouble thinking of a topic to write about for the blog, I'm going to just grab the book that's nearest to me, open to a random page, point at a random word, and write about that. Of course, the book that's nearest to me right now is "Federal Civil Judicial Procedure and Rules," which is bound to result in fun times for all of us. But at least it beats sitting here staring at the screen and trying to think of something interesting I've done in the last 72 hours. It turns out I'm a lot less interesting than I generally tend to think.

Okay, so here we go. Page 391. The word is "court," perhaps unsurprisingly. This is good, because I've actually been to court a few times. It's much less glamorous than Drop Dead Diva would have us all believe. In Cook County, it mainly involves waiting endlessly to cram yourself into an elevator with sweaty, vaguely washed out looking people, many of whose idea of courtroom attire includes crop tops and/or sweatpants. Then once you're there you sit endlessly waiting for your case to be called, struggling to remember whether this is the opposing counsel is the one who has kids or the one who takes improv classes so that you can make pained small talk. Then you head up to the bench and generally answer no more than two or three questions before filling out your own order (which involves the use of carbon paper, which I frequently put in upside down) and handing it to the clerk. You're back on the street in no time.

Federal court is a little bit less like a city bus -- at least there aren't as many people -- but the exercise is much the same. Unless you have a trial, of course, which involves a lot more of people yelling. But today's word isn't "trial," for heaven's sake, so I won't get ahead of myself.

2011-10-23T21:22:00.000-07:00

Friday Night Lite

Is it weird that I now officially love spending my Friday nights going to the gym and the grocery store? Let me stress that I fervently desire not to receive an answer to that question. It's just so relaxing to be in both of those places when they're not packed with angry, sometimes dirty people. I can actually take my time, say, doing a long run or picking out tomatoes, although generally not at the same time. And then I get home and feel very productive, as though it takes some sort of actual ability to engage in physical activity and buy foodstuffs. Next I'm going to start congratulating myself for watching TV.

Speaking of which, I saw an excellent Lifetime Movie today. It was called Betrayed at 17, not to be confused with Accused at 17 or Dead at 17 or, for that matter, 17 Again starring Zac Efron. I watched a lot of it with the sound off because I was on the phone with my parents, but I'm pretty sure I got the gist of it. It starred Alexandra Paul of Baywatch jiggling as a single mother crusading for justice after her daughter is exploited in a secret sex tape and then gets hit by a car. (The synopsis online says that she commits suicide, but I saw it, and she really just commits negligence, running out into the street without looking.) There's lots of brow furrowing and triumphing over things and running for no reason. Kind of like my work week, actually.

Speaking of which (again!), the Sunday dread is definitely in high gear. Why won't anyone just pay me to sit at home and eat Wheat Thins with chive cream cheese?

2011-10-20T21:23:00.000-07:00

Blown Away

Last night I went to the Shakespeare Theatre, which necessitated a trip to Navy Pier. Now, Navy Pier is not a place I relish going even under the best of conditions; there are just too many kiosks and novelty t-shirts. But when the weather is bad, it's downright spooky. Everything is empty and all of the employees seem really sad. Even the McDonalds of the Future just has one guy standing there letting your fries get soggy. On the plus side, you get really easy access to the bins at the candy by the pound store. No one wants to have to fight for their Sixlets.

The weather yesterday was so bad that I actually felt myself beginning to lift off the ground when I got hit by the wind as I crossed onto the pier. I had to grab onto the giant sculpture of a wagon to steady myself. It would have been really funny had I not been gently sobbing. I kept picturing my body being found by the Coast Guard, or whoever it is that guards Lake Michigan. Oddly enough, in my vision they were making fun of my sweater.

Anyway, the show was great, as usual. It was Sondheim's Follies, which is not exactly musical comedy in the tradition of, say, Anything Goes! But somehow spending two and a half hours reflecting on relationships and my own mortality ended up being more than a little entertaining. And not just because I was happy to be indoors and filled with several pounds of candy.

2011-10-18T20:45:00.000-07:00

Lord of the Dance

So we got a dance game for the Wii. I was always sort of opposed to getting one because in my experience they just involved a lot of lame arm waving, but I underestimated the extent to which that could be an amazing thing. You see, the utter ridiculousness of people rapidly convulsing to the sounds of Baby, One More Time is something that simply cannot be beat. Photo evidence of this phenomenon follows.

Liz and my sister have had a longstanding dance battle, dating from back when the only dance games had soundtracks that sounded like a Korean casino and had to be plugged directly into your TV.

I believe there is some sort of roof raising maneuver going on here.

The perfect unison they've achieved is simply breathtaking.

2011-10-16T09:57:00.000-07:00

Phoneathon

Well, I got one of the new iPhones on Friday and, predictably, it has more or less taken over my life for the past couple of days. I spent Friday night activating the thing, which was not made easier by the fact that the box included a slip that said to "simply follow the instructions in the Activating Your iPhone booklet included in this box," but no such booklet. Then yesterday afternoon I transferred over my contacts, resulting in the fun biannual game of "who is this person?" And the rest of the afternoon yesterday I spent copying CDs to the phone, apparently gripped by a fear that I can no longer live my life unless I have the Black Eyed Peas with me at all times. I also downloaded several apps, including a really creepy one that lets you see your friends' current locations. It's good to see someone is finally working to alleviate the serious challenges faced by stalkers in this information age.

And speaking of creepy, this version of the iPhone has a little lady who lives inside it and handles your various requests. For instance, I can just say "send a text to my sister telling her Sister Act 2 is on," and it will do so, although likely not without serious emotional reservations. Or I can ask it to find the nearest Wendy's, and it will give me a map and directions, although the technology has apparently not yet reached the stage where it will also schedule coronary bypass surgery for three years from now. There isn't even any attitude involved, unlike when I ask my secretary to do things. If I could get the iPhone to take two hour lunches and spread malicious gossip, it could have a real career ahead of it.

2011-10-13T21:11:00.000-07:00

Taylor Made

I had a dream last night that I was hanging out with Taylor Swift and it wasn't all that bad. Don't get me wrong, it wasn't good either, but I wasn't contemplating self mutilation or anything. At least not in the dream. We were just kind of sitting on couches and not really talking to each other. I think we had bagels with cream cheese. Not the really good kind of cream cheese with chives in it or anything, just the regular kind. I remember feeling a lot of anxiety that I would somehow accidentally mention how she looks like a poodle in the dream. (I do mention it occasionally when awake.) That was about it, though. I woke up sweating profusely and humming the chorus of "Love Story" through my gritted teeth.

It's the last time I read a New Yorker profile right before bed, I'll tell you that. I'm just lucky it wasn't about Charlie Sheen.

2011-10-10T18:50:00.001-07:00

Movie Fever!

I saw Contagion last night. I made sure to cough loudly throughout the movie to give everyone that real "you are there" experience. And I think people really appreciated the humor, if indeed throwing an empty box of Jujubes at someone is a sign of appreciation. I'm sure that, like me, everyone was just relieved to have a distraction from the long series of horrible deaths. It was like a tragically unimaginative celebrity snuff film.

Overall I guess I thought it was pretty all right, though. I could have done with less of Chubby Matt Damon, and at times Marion Cotillard was off the screen for such a long period that I sort of forgot that she was in it at all. They've either done something to Jude Law's teeth for the character or Jude Law has always just had bad teeth that I somehow failed to notice. Laurence Fishburne is... I guess I just have a hard time feeling anything at all about Laurence Fishburne.

I think the writing was pretty decent for the most part. I did laugh out loud at the part where Chubby Matt Damon is supposedly so badly in shock that he asks to talk to his dead wife, but I have a long history of laughing at allegedly dramatic moments. That's why Sean Penn yelling "Is that my daughter in there?" repeatedly in Mystic River has become my ringtone.

It must be a pretty convincing movie, though, because about five minutes in I seriously started to feel like I was surrounded by dirty, disease-ridden animals who very likely were the source of that odd soreness at the back of my throat. And afterwards I actually had to lie down. I mean, it was 10:30 at night, so I would have been headed to bed anyway, but still.

2011-10-09T20:47:00.000-07:00

Running Man

Yesterday I went to a baby shower in the suburbs. Well, actually it was something called a "sip and see" as opposed to a baby shower, since the baby's already here, but I feel really awkward using the phrase "sip and see," so I'm sticking with baby shower. I've previously made my feelings about babies clear, and this was no exception. Cute, yes, but a great conversationalist, no.

I have to say that it was altogether a very classy and enjoyable event, however. There were delicious cucumber sandwiches (well, I took the cucumbers off, but the cheese and the bread were delicious) and prosciutto bruschettas and we all drank wine at three on a Saturday like Real Housewives. Everyone talked about child care and property taxes and home remodeling and I felt like I should smoke a pipe and join the rotary club. Oh, and I mentioned the "fall colors" on at least three occasions. I can wasp with the best of them, you better believe me.

Today was the marathon, which meant that I got up at 7:30 to go squint out at the street while holding crudely-made signs for friends I would never actually manage to spot. I took pictures of myself holding the signs on the street afterwards just so I would have proof that I was there. And then I went back to bed.

2011-10-06T21:19:00.000-07:00

Brainstorms

I've decided that I'm going to be a legal commentator, but my commentary will be based only on what I've seen about the cases on television and heard secondhand. For instance, about the Amanda Knox case I could say that one of my co-counsel from another firm told me that they didn't have much evidence against her and that Hayden Panettierre looked kind of weird with brown hair. Actually, on Lifetime, the case seemed to be primarily about A Mother's Love, with that mother being played by Marcia Gay Harden, or maybe it was Jeanne Tripplehorn, because sometimes I have difficulty telling them apart. There was also a lot of emphasis on fake Italian accents.

I also think it would be a good idea for them to make a TV movie about my pro bono trial last year, which they could call Deliberate Indifference On Trial In Urbana. It would be quite dramatic, what with my opposing counsel having a handlebar mustache and all. Perhaps he could be played by Burt Reynolds. The role of my client would be the really tough one to fill, since it would have to be someone who both knows his way around an off-color anecdote and can pull off double face tattoos. To play me it can only be Whoopi Goldberg.

I've got a lot of great ideas, I think.

2011-10-04T21:01:00.000-07:00

Flight Risk

As if the Mall of America weren't excitement enough, I got to have a three-hour flight delay at the Minneapolis airport Sunday night. I should have known it was coming because everything was really going too perfectly. I got to the airport an hour and a half before my flight, cruised through security in about half an hour, and then leisurely made my way to my gate, pausing here and there to enjoy the various stores selling Minnesota-themed sweatshirts and off-brand chocolates. I got a seat with an appropriate one-seat buffer on either side of me and was just settling in to some Word Mole on my blackberry when I noticed the departure information flipping back three hours. There was never an explanation for the delay or even a PA announcement of it; they just changed the departure time as though we might all be having such a good time buying $2.50 Diet Cokes that we wouldn't even notice the switch. I did have some words with a Cindy at the airline counter, but it was all for naught as no other Chicago-bound fights even existed. Cindy did feel my pain though, I could tell that.

The last minute delay did leave me in a bit of a pickle, since I hadn't brought much in the way of reading material with me for such a short flight. There was just a New Yorker where I'd already read everything except half of the article about IKEA and the short story, which I generally skip on principle. The only store on the concourse that was still open appeared to sell nothing but Sue Grafton and beef jerky, and neither seemed likely to hold my attention for long. And my blackberry was starting to run out of juice from too much Brickbreaker and a forty-five minute conversation with my parents about the dogs. I ended up reading a discarded newspaper, which left me with way too much knowledge of twin city politics and a sticky film on my hands.

I made it back, though, and I am just barely alive. Just three more days until the weekend (because you would be unable to calculate that on your own), during which I plan to remain as earthbound as possible.

2011-10-01T18:27:00.000-07:00

America, the Beautiful

I went to the Mall of America today, and it was sort of fantastic. Also sort of infuriating and sort of exhausting, but still. Isn't that the story of America?

The trip began, as so many trips to the Mall of America must, with endless circling through an enormous parking garage. We finally found a spot on the fifth level, or the "Florida" level, as it is called, probably because of the indigenous palm trees and orange groves. We entered the mall on the third floor, near the Victoria's Secret. Well, one of the two Victoria's Secrets. There are also two Auntie Ann's Pretzels. One is too many.

The plan was to shop, but that was immediately derailed when I caught sight of the Nickelodeon-themed amusement park in the middle of the mall. We briefly flirted with the idea of the flume ride, but being wet in the Lane Bryant did not exactly seem like great fun. The arcade seemed a drier idea, and we quickly won enough tickets for some excellent plastic trinkets, despite the fact that the Whack-a-Mole game had been so overused that three of the moles never managed to rouse themselves from their holes. We also checked out the Nick store, but I ultimately determined that showing up at my office with an iCarly lunchbox would not win me respect and might even get me jailed.

From there it was just plain old shopping. With no sales tax, which was nice. And the clerks seemed somehow a bit less clueless, if such a thing is possible. Also I think we walked about six miles over the course of the day. I'm counting this as my cardio for the weekend.

2011-09-29T21:13:00.000-07:00

Tube Time

Can we talk about the fall TV season for a minute? And by "talk," I mean that I will type and you will do nothing. I haven't gotten too involved in fall TV for the past few years because my abandonment issues prevent me from investing in shows that may quickly disappear, but this year I guess the bus ads were just too intriguing. It started with Ringer, which I knew would not be good, but felt sure would provide some delightfully ESL-sounding line readings from Sarah Michelle Gellar, and I have not been disappointed. Unintentional humor abounds, whether it's from the amazing greenscreen scene that takes place on a speedboat where no one's hair moves in the wind or from the FBI agent who doesn't find it at all suspicious that the target of his investigation is mopping up blood right in front of him. So three episodes in I am sort of hooked, and not just because I'm trying to figure out if SMG did something to her nose.

There's also Revenge. I've only watched the pilot, but it was pretty good. It's got the chick from Everwood, which I may never before have admitted I used to watch from time to time. (I'm huge on family values.) There's lot of passive aggressiveness and aggressive aggressiveness and secrets and lies and great looking beach houses. Plus I enjoy watching people struggle to emote.

Up All Night I'm sort of undecided about. All three of the actors I appreciate, but the show still sort of feels like it's trying too hard. Every week they have to drive home how they're the show about how life changes when you have a baby. Why can't they just be the show about these three people that I sort of like? Also I'm not generally big on babies.

And I watched the first episode of Terra Nova. If you liked LOST but thought it didn't have enough actors who used to be on Degrassi, this is the show for you. If you liked Jurassic Park, but thought the CGI wasn't quite fake-looking enough, you are also in business. So see, there is something for everyone!

2011-09-27T21:26:00.000-07:00

Secretarial Services

I'm not sure if I've mentioned this, but I've had a new secretary for a few months now. My old secretary was out on medical leave -- she had knee surgery and was on so many painkillers she would alternately laugh and cry in the same sentence -- and then they reorganized all the secretaries and I ended up with someone new. On the plus side, my new secretary answers my phone very professionally instead of forcefully quizing callers about their reasons for calling or engaging them in ten minute conversations. On the minus side, she frequently loses her voice and then is able to greet callers with only a tortured squeak. Another point in her favor is that she's very organized and even made a little file folder that says "reimbursements" on the tab to bring me my reimbursement forms. But I do sort of miss the caustic wit and constant carping of my old secretary; it did sort of make the day go faster.

The good news, I guess, is that my old secretary is just across the floor now, so I can still go visit if I want to borrow a Star magazine or hear snarky comments about what other secretaries are wearing. But she's in with a group of secretaries now and I always feel like they're talking about me behind my back. And one of them actually referred to me as her "boyfriend" today. And then they were all laughing and trying to make me eat pound cake. Maybe I should just stick with the nice boring lady who sends out my faxes.

2011-09-25T14:26:00.000-07:00

Swimfan

I've recently taken to swimming at my gym. Now, I am not what I would call an especially strong swimmer; there tends to be a lot of splashing and gasping for breath that goes on when I am in the water, and I did almost drown at a birthday party in eighth grade. But I find it to be excellent exercise for precisely the reason that I feel like I'm dying after about two laps. Also I think it's fun to wear goggles. They make me feel sporty.

Swimming at my gym is less than ideal, however. First, you have to parade through the upstairs lobby in your trunks to get to the pool. Second, people are always asking if they can share a lane with you, which is fine and all, but I very often end up veering into the lane divider, which has very little give and can be surprisingly sharp. Third, they never have any towels in the pool area, fearing I guess that towels are secure in the locker room areas but 100% certain to be stolen a mere ten yards away. Fourth, they have deck chairs all around the pool and though one might think that people would hesitate to "lay out" at an indoor pool, in fact people frequently hang out there and make me feel as though I'm being observed when I stop halfway through a lap so I don't have a heart attack.

I realize that it's likely that this hobby won't last any longer than latchhooking did in the fifth grade, but I'm still sort of rooting for it, in a weird way.

2011-09-21T18:53:00.000-07:00

Hard to Face

I have to say that I really envy those for whom the many and various changes to Facebook's user interface are the most significant problem of the day. For me, where Facebook might choose to place the string of inane updates about who bought what new pair of shoes and who hated which Sarah Jessica Parker movie is probably about 179th on my list of concerns for today, tied with what I fear might happen to my digestive system as a result of eating that half box of Nerds and whether Anderson Cooper has what it takes to make it as a daytime talk show host. (Significantly higher on the list are if I accidentally left that highlighted note to myself to consider "is this argument stupid?" in the draft brief I sent to the client this afternoon and whether my cab driver is muttering under his breath because he plans to kill me.) But for many, the layout of a free internet service primarily designed for preteens to play Farmville is apparently the greatest crisis since the Iranian hostages were freed. (The actual Iranian hostages, not those two guys who apparently only hike the great trouble spots of the Mideast.) I know this because the all caps and exclamation points were out in full force on my Facebook feed today. Many people even threatened to quit, which would of course be a huge blow to the online Scrabble industry. I'm hoping cooler heads prevail before I have to, I don't know what, reactivate my Friendster account? You have to admit that 2004 was a much simpler time.

2011-09-18T21:02:00.000-07:00

TV Time

Ah, the Emmys. The night when we celebrate the magic of television through three hours of terrible television. They're just like the Oscars, except any actual movie stars in the room look vaguely irritated to be there. (Seriously, either Kate Winslet was passing a kidney stone or she couldn't believe they denied her request to have the damn thing FedExed to her.) Also they don't even bother to give out the technical awards on live television, since they understand all too well that it's a medium best devoted to pretty people (and Steve Buscemi, apparently). On the plus side, somehow they always wrap it up in three hours flat. Those affiliates WILL NOT TOLERATE having their local news teams cooling their heels for even one minute.

I have to admit that I was doing other things for most of the broadcast (that condo association water bill is not going to pay itself here, people), but I still managed to pick up a few things:

-- Julianna Margulies got a bedazzler for Christmas last year.
-- Gwyneth Paltrow is going as a medieval underwear model for Halloween.
-- Just because people are comedy writers does not mean they are going to give funny acceptance speeches.
-- Now that Friday Night Lights is gone, the Emmys have finally noticed that it was around in the first place.
-- I genuinely wish that all of the ladies in the Best Actress: Comedy category could win. Even though I've never seen some of their shows. They just seem cool and nice.
-- Julian Fellowes himself seems like just the kind of guy who would end up writing British period dramas for a living.
-- The Emmys have finally redressed the historical wrong of Maggie Smith being denied award recognition for her fine work in Sister Act and Sister Act 2: Back in the Habit.
-- The Amazing Race is still on the air.
-- Guy Pearce has consistently made himself look weirder and weirder ever since LA Confidential.
-- I am very much out of touch with current television.

I also finished a couple of loads of laundry, so it was all in all a very worthwhile night.

2011-09-17T20:22:00.000-07:00

Model Citizen

Well, the greatest television program in the history of the medium debuted this Wednesday. I'm referring, of course, to America's Next Top Model All-Stars, which existed in my head long before it ever existed in life. In what is likely the saddest bit of information I will ever share about myself (in a fairly crowded field), I had actually drawn up lists of potential all-stars for such a season with some friends a couple of years ago. Of course, my lists looked very little like what we're now seeing on the screen. I mean, come on, there are really people who were dying to see Bre again? The girl best known for engaging in an all-out brawl over energy drinks? And seriously, the Laura pimping has to stop. Just having the same fake Southern accent Sandra Bullock used in the Blind Side does not make her a "country cutie." And where is Natasha? She may or may not have been a mail order bride, heaven's sake. And don't even get me started on Melrose, the robot sent from the future to win America's Next Top Model. It's criminal that they're trying to do this without her. I can't even mention Jade for fear that I will begin softly weeping. Give me a moment here.

Anyway, the show itself is much as one might have expected, nay, dreamed it. There's lots of fighting, speechifying, and general sassiness. The "challenges" involve a high level of absurdity. I'm pretty sure the house is where they filmed one of the I Love New Yorks. (Remember them?) Oh, and Tyra is still insisting on making everything about her. Which is not so far off, from where I'm sitting.

2011-09-14T20:29:00.000-07:00

The Bends

So I forgot to mention something wonderful that I saw in South Bend. There was a video store with a big sign out front that said "Kate Hudson in Something Borrowed: We've Got It, Redbox Doesn't." I tried to take a picture, but it turns out that big glowing signs don't photograph well on your cell phone at night. But regardless, when your business model hinges on people's interest in Goldie Hawn's less talented daughter, you know you're in trouble.

The wedding itself ended up being really nice. They greeted us with alcohol when we arrived and the ceremony itself was only like fifteen minutes long. Then the dinner was set up at stations around the room and there was no assigned seating, so I didn't have to meet new people, which every thinking person of course abhors. I did finally meet the groom, though, which was nice. He's exactly the sort of person that I've only spoken to for about ten minutes that I would want my friend to marry. Oh, and I danced with a relative of the bride's who looked a whole lot like Donatella Versace. It was most glamorous, I assure you.

I wish you could write reviews of people's weddings for a living. I've got enough experience.

2011-09-12T21:39:00.000-07:00

Remember September

Well, yesterday was the ten-year anniversary of the terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001. It falls to me to let you know this due to the complete media blackout on this subject. I have to admit I was less than enthused about the repeated airing of the World Trade Center footage in the past week; I barely even enjoy watching pretend people get pretend killed in horror movies, even if they are sometimes played by Drew Barrymore. But fortunately real tragedy has no place on the Lifetime Movie Network, where they prefer to stick with more mundane tragedies like Delta Burke being disrespected due to her mass. A date rape and two abusive husbands later it was September 12 and the media had returned to obsessively covering the presidential election that is still more than a year away.

So where was I on September 11, 2001? In my advanced civil procedure class, with no greater worry than that I might get called on to talk about the Erie doctrine cases I hadn't read the night before. I can't remember for sure, but I'm guessing I was on my laptop playing Word Whomp on pogo.com or visiting amihot.com with AOL instant messenger running in the background. And someone came in and told us the news and suddenly I was transported from a world where war meant Desert Storm preempting Highway to Heaven for a few weeks to one where I genuinely worried that evildoers were planning to steal crop dusters and spray poison gas on Champaign, Illinois. This was not a positive change.

2011-09-10T11:17:00.000-07:00

Transitions

We have new neighbors. I don't really know anything about them yet other than that their mortgage lender needed me to fill out a bunch of paperwork and that they pay their assessments on time. I hope that they like impromptu roof parties and people singing Disney karaoke in the dead of night. We're planning to take them half a pan of brownies (the other half is for us) and a bottle of wine as a welcoming gift to sort of prime the pump. I don't need to be liked by everyone, just everyone that I ever meet. It's also fine if fictional characters dislike me. But I get a definite "real people" vibe from these folks. Such is life.

Anyway, I'm headed to South Bend, Indiana for a wedding today. This is the second of only two this year, so I feel rather fortunate. People don't get married between October and April, right? I think in the future I'm just going to tell people that I have scurvy and am too weak to attend. Regardless, I have purchased the loveliest card that Jewel had to offer and written a delightful check on the "antique" background to boot. (I strongly considered the Garfield checks but then recalled that it is not 1988.) I have been to South Bend before but don't really know what I can expect. Perhaps they have primitive Hoosier mating rituals that are utterly unknown in Illinois. If there's a human sacrifice, that is where I'm drawing the line, depending on who they're suggesting it should be.

2011-09-07T20:47:00.000-07:00

Baby Love

It seems like everyone I know is having babies these days. I can think of at least ten friends who've had babies in the past year; two had babies last weekend alone. In most cases, I approve of the addition of these babies as being appropriate to the personalities involved. There have been a few, however, where I felt like placing a preemptive call to social services. I guess it's just difficult to see someone who double teamed a stripper in a friend's living room after doing whippets off a Reddi Wip can as a paternal type.

But regardless, I tend to find babies somewhat difficult to relate to. Forgive me, but it just doesn't seem like they're trying. A lot of time they just kind of lie there. They're rarely into literature or the fine arts. And while they do occasionally laugh at the things I say or do, they're much more into the low comedy (i.e. strange faces, falling down) than, for instance, my various witty remarks about the cinematic contributions of '00s icon Amanda Bynes. Plus, for some reason people generally don't want you to drink or swear around them. If there's some other way to function socially, I'm pretty sure I haven't heard of it.

Anyway, I'm trying to get used to it because it seems unlikely the babies are going anywhere. I've found that people rarely give up their offspring at my request and, regardless, I doubt that returns are allowed without a receipt.

2011-09-05T08:49:00.000-07:00

Into the Wild

My parents live out in the country. Like actually in the country, as in our backyard is an oak forest. And every time I see those signs in Grant Park about how they are "restoring wild prairie" it looks exactly like my parents' front lawn. Growing up this was awesome because I learned about fucking long before any of my friends just by watching squirrels (although certain aspects may have been somewhat misleading) and I could hide during hide and seek in such a fashion as to actually require several days' manhunt to retrieve me. Also I learned important lessons about life by catching creatures in our pond and adding them to our aquarium, at which point they murdered everything in sight. Life is a lot like that sometimes, I think.

But anyway, sometimes there is also a bit more country than I tend to enjoy. Such as country inside our damn house. I have had the experience of having a field mouse run across my body while I'm sleeping, which was not nearly as adorable as Beverly Cleary had led me to expect. During junior high, I once looked up from a particularly gripping geometry proof to find a squirrel strutting across our living room. (A door had been left open downstairs, a crime which remains unsolved to this day.) And this weekend, I killed no fewer than four wasps in my bedroom. I'm not all hardcore or anything; I killed them from a safe distance using wasp spray. But really, the point is that there are fucking wasps in my bedroom. I figure that for every four I kill, that's one and a quarter that I've swallowed in my sleep.

It's time to get back to the city, where the vermin live in our trash as God intended.

2011-09-04T17:35:00.000-07:00

Boxing Day

I have gone to the Redbox at Wal-Mart with my mother and it has ended with the predictable bloodshed.

I begged her to go to the one at County Market, a mere block away, but it was deemed too distant. What I knew and she failed to understand is that the Wal-Mart Redbox is advanced citizenship. The people of Wal-Mart know their way around a Redbox. You have to be ready.

Ready we were not. The line was four people deep when we got there and I tried to get my mother to focus by browsing the titles displayed on the Redbox sign from behind a rack of crop tops for preteens, but it was hopeless. She kept asking me if I thought we could get The Help or Contagion, which I'm pretty sure hasn't even opened in theaters yet. Then when we got our turn at the 'box, the search function utterly eluded us, and we ended up scrolling through all of the titles only to find that everything my mother thought she might want was already out of stock. And then we ended up in a rather detailed discussion of whether anyone in our family had ever expressed any interest in seeing Source Code, at which point the exorbitantly fat family behind us began sighing meaningfully. By the time my mother began soliciting a full plot summary of The Adjustment Bureau (which she kept calling The Apartment Bureau), things almost came to blows.

We ended up running away and instead purchasing a four-week supply of Crest Whitestrips. We may not have anything to do tonight, but at least we'll have glamorous smiles.

2011-09-03T15:12:00.000-07:00

In Sickness and In Health

Thanks to the fine folks at CVS, I believe I have largely recovered from my recent bout with something awful in my chest. (Now I know how Tara Reid must have felt for all those years.) I may not enjoy their bizarrely low shelving units or their nappy carpeting, but I have to give mad props to their staff of sardonic nurse practitioners. I made a triumphant return to my workplace on Thursday, only to be viewed suspiciously by my coworkers even as I vigorously disinfected my hands repeatedly for their benefit. Hopefully the holiday weekend will give everyone time to get used to the idea that I am not a leper; those open sores on my face are just the product of my messy breakup with Proactiv.

So now I am sitting in my parents' living room and enjoying a very quiet weekend. Well, not literally quiet, as my sister was just gifted GPS for her birthday (at her request), and she has spent the last twenty minutes trying to "stump it" by requesting that it locate various obscure restaurants. It appears the GPS has won this round, however.

Actually, every member of my family is on at least one electronic device at present. In addition to my sister's love affair with finding Taco Bells statewide, we have my father pretending to do work but actually playing Angry Birds on his iPod touch and my mother and I on our laptops. God bless the 21st century and the ease with which it allows us to wholly avoid human interaction.

2011-08-31T19:18:00.000-07:00

Home Alone

My prediction came true and I have been rather miserably ill over the past couple of days. It feels like Kelly Clarkson has been sitting on my chest and I have lost my voice, which is arguably charming as a plot device in a terrible Diane Keaton movie, but rather an inconvenience in real life. I have thankfully been able to stay home from work, but it feels a bit odd to send an out of office message that says I will not be answering my cell phone because I am physically incapable of it. I have definitely overcompensated for it, however, by being insanely responsive and positive over email. My coworkers likely now believe that my chest cold has rendered me mentally ill.

In case you needed further convincing of how bad this has been, I actually roused myself to go to the CVS clinic yesterday and seek help. (This was my former secretary's suggestion, which should have set off alarm bells for me, but in my DayQuil addled state did not.) It definitely got high marks for convenience, because I was able to get in and out in about 45 minutes. I also liked the fact that I could buy more drugs as part of the transaction without having to make another stop, and even more so when the automatic checkout announced that I had "products that required age verification," at which point the clerk explained "these kids gettin' high offa that cough syrup." But I was dismayed that my NP seemed a bit shy of prescribing the hard stuff, such that I only went home with over the counters. I mean, humor me with some mild antibiotics here, will you?

But I am feeling somewhat better this evening and hope (yes, that's actually true) to return to work tomorrow. It turns out that daytime TV has really suffered since I was home regularly during the day back during law school.

2011-08-29T19:15:00.000-07:00

Visions

So I accidentally left the TV on The Proposal for a while as I was doing some stuff around the house and it got to a point I had never seen before where it gets all real and shit and Sandra Bullock is emoting about how she "forgot what it's like to have a family" and then she falls out of a boat and almost drowns and then an immigration officer is threatening them with jail time and, well, then I turned it off, but my point is, what? I thought it was supposed to be a zany comedy in the fine tradition of All About Steve. Must I also have my heartstrings tugged at?

Anyway, maybe I'm just a bit loopy right now since I'm on a fantastic cocktail of Dayquil and Nyquil. I think one of my darling interviewees last week transmitted something besides calm competence with his or her handshake. I've been coughing up my right lung (but yes, only the right one) all day long and my voice is almost gone. And now I'm in bed wearing two sweatshirts and lying under three layers of blankets. I bet you anything I have crazy hallucinatory dreams involving the Federal Reserve and Tony the Tiger.

2011-08-28T15:48:00.000-07:00

Disasters

As I'm sure you've heard, there was a terrible tragedy this weekend. I'm speaking, of course, of Chicago residents being deprived of cable and internet service for nearly ten hours. I mean, what am I supposed to do with myself if I can't get caught up on my Dance Moms? And how am I going to figure out what projects the girl who played Paige on Degrassi has coming up if I don't have internet? And of course this has to happen when I'm waiting for the next Hunger Games book to arrive. So I ended up playing minesweeper for a while and then going down to the Banana Republic to buy some khakis. That just might be the whitest sentence I've ever written.

I'm also suffering from a sports injury sustained when I attempted to do a n abdominal plank on top of one of those fitness balls and instead slipped in my own sweat and went crashing to the floor in the middle of fitness class. It's when you end up flat on your back in a room full of people that you know things are really going well.

2011-08-26T19:19:00.000-07:00

Returns, Triumphant

Well, I am back from Ann Arbor. I have been for a few days, actually, but have had other things on my plate besides the blog. Ann Arbor was fairly nice, from what I saw of it, which was not much. I went to two bars, one of which had amazing chicken strips and the other of which had far more types of beers than I could even begin to deal with. I was also in two different hotels, which seemed much like hotels anywhere else in the world. Campus town was cute, though. Even their CVS was fairly classy looking. It just goes to show that zoning can be a very powerful thing.

The trip was for recruiting, which is sort of like speed dating but without any possibility of sex. We each interviewed twenty people in a single day and likely used the phrase "work-life balance" as many times. Everyone is always super nice and great, which makes the process that much harder, because we can only hire a small portion of the people we interview. If only some of the candidates would drop some f bombs or racial slurs, the whole thing would be a lot easier.

2011-08-22T20:32:00.000-07:00

MI

So I'm going to Ann Arbor, Michigan tomorrow. The funny thing about that is that when I woke up this morning I was most decidedly NOT going to Ann Arbor, Michigan tomorrow. These things can change that quickly. I would ask for recommendations of things to see and do in Ann Arbor, Michigan, but chances are I will be working the whole time I am there. Don't worry, though, I am definitely going to see the Holiday Inn. I would not miss it for the world.

Apparently Ann Arbor, Michigan is about a four and a half hour drive from Chicago. I'm not going to be the driver, though, so I can do other things while we travel. Like work, at least for the hour and a half that my laptop battery generally holds out. I'm also going to feel things out and see if my colleagues will be offended and/or make fun of me if I read The Hunger Games on the trip. Perhaps they'll want to play the license plate game.

Is it weird that I'm going to have three bags for a two day trip? I just like to be able to dress for whatever situation arises. I mean, what if there's a monsoon? This rubber parka is really going to come in handy.

2011-08-20T15:24:00.001-07:00

Barton Fink

Somehow I forgot to mention one of the most important things that has ever happened to me, namely that I saw the movie Homecoming starring Mischa Barton on Lifetime last Sunday. It's an amazing little feature where Mischa plays an insane woman who fakes the disappearance of her ex-boyfriend's new girlfriend and then holds her hostage in her house. She drugs her, breaks her foot with her bare hands, and even chases her with an axe. It's sort of like Misery, but with a much higher caliber of acting, obviously. Oh, and it was directed by Morgan Freeman, which is maybe the weirdest thing of all. What exactly drew America's Favorite Crusty Old African-American Man to a teen melodrama starring the former bad girl from The OC? Were there no episodes of iCarly available to direct?

Anyway, after the movie I was doing some research about the cast and crew, as I often do, and I started to actually feel a bit sorry for Mischa Barton. I mean, all of the highlights of her career probably occurred before she turned 20. In the scope of a few years she went from being one of People's 50 most beautiful people to being someone who pretty clearly writes her own bio on IMDB. When she left The OC, she lined up a bunch of film projects, but they all ended up being box office giants like "Virgin Territory" and "Walled In." And then she tried to come back to TV, but The Beautiful Life lasted about as many episodes as that Nanny spinoff they tried back in the '90s. So what now? More Lifetime?

I do have high hopes for the upcoming Bhopal: A Prayer for Rain, though. It just sounds like a lot of fun.

2011-08-18T20:23:00.000-07:00

Fun and Games

I must confess that I read The Hunger Games this week. It was in the house and, after three weeks of dragging Dostoevsky to the pool and ignoring it, I wanted something light that I might actually read. It ended up taking me maybe five days. As with my studies in Dan Brown, I simply couldn't put it down, not because I actually thought it was good but because I just wanted to find out what was going to happen. I took it on the train without a plain brown wrapper to protect my reputation as a reader. I even hid out in the bathroom at work for a while just so I could finish a chapter. It was sort of like an out of body experience, like I was standing there watching some idiot read The Hunger Games and all of the sudden I realized that idiot was me and I really couldn't wait to find out what would happen at the Feast.

I mean, it's not the worst thing I could read ever. That would probably be the Twilight series. But there's no danger of that because of my strong conviction that sexy teen vampires are totally played out. Yes, the characters are one dimensional and the tropes a bit familiar, but the plotting is amazingly efficient and there aren't nearly as many wonky sentences as in, say, The DaVinci Code. I do have to say, though, that I just can't see any way that children should actually be reading this, as it's brutally violent from beginning to end. Why can't they just read The Phantom Tollbooth anymore?

Anyway, I couldn't sleep last night thinking about all the murdering going on, so I'm glad I'm done. At least for now. Book two is already taunting me from my nightstand.

2011-08-16T20:44:00.000-07:00

I Have Seen The Future

And it was okay.

The movie The Future, that is. From the writer/director of Me and You and Everyone We Know. I really thought that one was pretty fresh and interesting. This one was, well, a bit more depressing. And in parts weird. But I enjoyed it, overall.

We saw it in the small side theater at The Music Box, which is maybe the size of my living room. The screen is maybe three times the size of my television. The seats also seem somehow miniaturized, and the two tallest people in the world sat right in front of me. That had to impact my enjoyment level.

Also, all of the previews there were for strange movies I've never even heard of before. Things about like Hitler's sister and some cellist with asperger syndrome and some weird math thing. I started to get a headache before the movie even began.

On the plus side, it was a beautiful day, and we walked. Also I was able to pick up the chewable vitamins I really like on the way home.

2011-08-13T16:29:00.000-07:00

Mr. Fix It

So we had a handyman come out yesterday afternoon to fix one of our light fixtures. He set a ladder up in the hall, took the fixture down, and said he was going to get some parts and would be right back. And then he never returned.

Needless to say, I find this to be confusing behavior. I do not imagine that there is a plot to steal a single relatively undistinguished light fixture afoot, but I am hard pressed to come up with a better explanation. We have heard nothing from him or his company since he walked out the door yesterday. Could he have been involved in a horrible, disfiguring car accident? I do hope not, and yet that at least would explain what's going on here.

Are we to expect that he could return at any given moment? I'm almost afraid to go to the bathroom lest I miss out on the return of my light fixture.

2011-08-11T21:21:00.000-07:00

Baller

I went to my one and only Cubs game of the year last night. Typically these days I just experience the Cubs games as reasons there is no parking on my block and no grass on my front yard, but I got invited to a skybox, so I made an exception. It doesn't much matter if the team is not very good when you are eating free hot dogs and drinking quality light beer like there is no tomorrow. And by the time the game gets really boring, they come by with the desert cart. It would have been the perfect evening, if only I'd been able to get an ANTM marathon on the skybox TV!

Of course, I can't stand crowds, so that puts me at a bit of a disadvantage. I almost had to curl into the fetal position and breathe into a paper bag on the way up to the skybox. Between the Captain Morgan Club and all the twenty year olds in pink Cub shirts, I very nearly lost it. But I managed to ground myself in the pure fun of watching tourists attempt to mask their fear of panhandlers and black people and it all turned out all right.

The Cubs even won this one, or so I'm told. I sort of lost the plot strand somewhere around the seventh inning.

2011-08-09T20:57:00.000-07:00

What the Beep?!

There's an interesting psychological experiment going on in my condo building right now. My neighbors on the fourth floor have moved out, but the new people aren't moving in for a while. And for some reason the alarm system up there has been emitting a steady beep for the past few days. It is very annoying, yet no one in my building has done anything to try to stop it. No one has called the alarm company that we all share, or emailed the former resident whose address we all have, or even for that matter emailed any other resident to discuss the issue. We're all waiting it out, to see who breaks first and actually does something. And for once, I have decided that it will not be me.

I was the one who broke first on fixing the front yard, on changing the light bulbs in the common areas, and on fixing the timer for the lights. I also blinked on fixing the front intercom and serving as the new treasurer. Oh, and I agreed to spend a grand on resealing the roof deck without even putting up a struggle. So I'm not letting this one go, I'm really not.

Besides, there's a whole floor between me and the beep. Third floor guy is bound to lose it before I do.

2011-08-06T16:56:00.000-07:00

Bags & Broads

The bags players have returned to the sidewalk in front of my house. It's got me wondering if somehow I travelled back in time several years and did not know it. I thought that the frat boys of America had officially moved on to playing beer pong and coming up with excuses to get each other naked, but I guess I was wrong. I've got four bros and a case of Miller light decorating my front steps to prove it.

Also, I ate a quarter of a giant box of nerds this evening and my stomach is officially not loving it. Who knew that eating twice your recommended daily intake of sugar in a single sitting would be a bad idea?

But the good news is that there's a really incredible Lifetime movie on right now in which a mother starts having psychic visions after her daughter goes missing at a wild high school party. But rather than having visions of, say, where her daughter has gone missing to, exactly, she has seemingly irrelevant visions of things like her paperboy's artwork and her daughter getting mad at her best friend for fucking her boyfriend. And she keeps shouting at people randomly about how they have to help her, except it turns out they don't. Oh, and she doesn't appear to be aware of the existence of the internet. Classic programming, this.

2011-08-04T19:28:00.000-07:00

Ad Age

I can't believe it's already back to school commercial time. It seems like just yesterday that we were doing dad and grad commercials. (And yes, "dad and grad" is the worst phrase ever.) But here we are with telegenic twentysomethings dancing around to indie bands in the latest J.C. Penney fashions and pretending they're in high school. It sort of makes we wish I were going back to school, if only so my mom would buy me some new Z. Cavs.

But I am not going anywhere, as it turns out. One of the strangest things for me about getting into "the real world" has been how it's much harder for me to place events within the seasons. If something happens around Thanksgiving or Christmas, that will probably stick, since I'll know that I was at my parents' house. Otherwise, though, the various parts of the year run together. They're all spent sitting in my office, doing work or trying to avoid doing work, and wishing the temperature were different. I guess in winter I'm usually wearing a sweater.

The summer has been pretty good to me, though, at least so far. There's been a lot of time at the pool and I've gotten a bit of sun without taking on a Boehner-ish quality. Also I've gotten out a little bit -- movies, bars, parties, etc. Nothing like when I was 26 and writing accounts of Thursday nights at closing time, but I'm starting to believe that the lord (or whomever) didn't actually want me to be 26 forever. I still intend to demand a recount, however.

2011-08-01T21:31:00.000-07:00

Current Affairs

Ah, busy times, busy times. First, I saw Transformers 3 last night. It may well have been the biggest waste of time in my entire life, and I was an English major. It's hard to understand how I could be so bored when things were blowing up everywhere, but I was. There was just so much unnecessary, nonsensical plot, something about the moon landing and Russians and robots in disguise, and I still can't even tell the evil robots apart because they're all the same color, and then all of the sudden there was Frances McDormand looking like even she can't believe she wants the paycheck this bad, and Shia LaBeouf talking fast in a way he obviously believes is charming but is really just irritating, and speaking of which I still can't believe he's been around long enough that I've had to learn how to spell his name. Anyway, I've spent a more pleasant two and a half hours in the emergency room with a kidney stone.

Then we had the Paul McCartney concerts at Wrigley for the past two nights. I love when they have concerts there because I can just go up on the roof (or even just open my windows) and it kind of sounds the same as if I were there. Although I suppose this could be a mixed blessing in NKOTBSB decides to come here next year. But anyway, it was kind of a cool concert. He sounds really good for his age and he did almost three hours each night. I can't even work at my desk job for three hours without sneaking in a game of Word Twist.

2011-07-30T17:20:00.000-07:00

Debtpocalypse Now

It may surprise you to hear this, but I am not exactly an economist. I took economics in high school, but my teacher just showed filmstrips about trade all the time, which caused me to fall asleep and have very vivid dreams about eating a giant cookie. (Also everyone except me cheated in that class without any consequences -- I still remember that one of my friends bought her final paper for that class and accidentally got one on the wrong topic, but still got a B.) I also took economics in college, but it all kind of seemed like fantasy to me. And not the good kind with unicorns and rainbows.

Anyway, my point in all of this is just that I have no understanding of what specifically will happen if the debt ceiling is not raised by Tuesday, but I do feel like it won't be good. Do I need to get my money out of the bank and start hiding it in various places around my house and yard? Should I be changing it over to foreign currencies? I think I have a few savings bonds my grandma gave me someplace -- do I need to cash those in now? Should I just invest everything in crop tops and be done with it? I have so, so many questions.

Maybe there will be some sort of deal. I'm sure whatever it would be would be horrible for the country in the long run, but at least it would save me from having to come up with some sort of financial plan right now.

2011-07-27T17:24:00.000-07:00

The Event

Yes, I have photo evidence, so it actually happened. I daresay it was the greatest 100th birthday party in the history of time.

Thankfully, we were able to prevail upon our chain smoking waitress to take a few group shots before she left for the three-hour motorcycle ride in 100 degree heat she was telling us about all afternoon. Can you pick out the 100 year old? Here's a hint: she's the one with hot wheels.

Here's the birthday girl with my sister. I'm really glad we chose a room with glass on three sides; that way every photo can be backlit.

2011-07-24T18:45:00.000-07:00

Lazy Sunday

Another exciting day here in Quincy. We went to lunch with at my grandmother's house, where she had an infomercial starring Mr. T on the whole time, possibly under the mistake impression that it was the news. If you squint a little, he does look a bit like Brian Williams. She showed us all of her birthday cards, and damned if she didn't get three times as many as me. I mean, sure, on the one hand, the hundredth birthday is a milestone. But on the other hand, how many friends can you have that are even alive at 100? I'm trying not to take this personally.

We also went to see the latest Harry Potter. I stopped seeing these a few movies ago because I felt like they didn't really add anything to my (rather pleasant) experience from the books, but I relented in the interest of family fun and closure. It was okay. They made a lot of weird changes from the book that didn't really seem to improve things -- mainly by injecting a lot of teen romance -- but it was nice to see so many good British actors getting work. I mean, they could have cast Renee Zellweger as Professor McGonagall and Megan Fox as Madame Hooch, so the effort to be authentic is appreciated.

2011-07-23T19:25:00.000-07:00

The Social Event of the Century

We had my grandmother's 100th birthday party today. She actually turned 100 last week, but not all of her friends and relatives could make it back then, so we had the party this week. It was a gala affair. I wore gray plaid slacks with a white dress shirt and red tie by Banana Republic, thank you for asking. Catering was by the Tony's at the Holiday Inn of Quincy. There was also a sheet cake.

For me, the event largely involved making small talk with relatives I've not seen in ten years and then "translating" that small talk for my grandmother, by which I mean repeating it at a higher volume. Of course there was also commenting on the deliciousness of the food I was eating and inquiring about people's health. Oh, and we had a PowerPoint with pictures of my grandmother in the various decades of her life. That was a Meg S joint.

It is pretty hard to believe it's already been 100 years of my grandmother. And not just because she smoked until she was in her 70s and has eaten red meat and heavy starches pretty much every day of her life. It's just that it seems like it was just yesterday that I was bringing her to grandparents' day at Monroe Elementary School to show her the bitchin' mailbox I made out of old milk cartons. But I did double check my calendar, and that was in fact not just yesterday. Yesterday I mainly spent playing Angry Birds.

2011-07-21T21:16:00.000-07:00

Movie Night

So I watched Burlesque this week. Okay, fine, in the interest of full disclosure, I actually bought Burlesque this week. It sort of hurts me to type that. But it was $11 and I thought my sister would like it as an early birthday present. And yes, in retrospect, I'm not quite sure why I thought that. You should have seen the look on her face.

Anyway, it happened. That should probably have been the tag line for the movie itself. It's actually the most amazing thing about Burlesque -- that it got made at all. Someone heard a pitch involving Christina Aguilera, Cher, and a nonsensical plot about a small town girl making good by singing in her underwear and thought "yes, let's throw some money at that." They probably didn't mention the Alan Cumming, to be fair. Or the cinematography stolen shot by shot from Chicago.

A lot of it is so bad it's not even amusing. Not all of it, though. Eric Dane is a reliable source of unintentional laughter as the sleazy developer who romances Xtina and just generally looks greasy. It's his greatest role since that movie he made in the hot tub with his wife, that other lady, and a bunch of weed. Kirsten Bell is amusing in that she no longer seems to be "playing" a bitch; at this point she really is just a bitch. Stanley Tucci brought his role with him from The Devil Wears Prada and delivers zingers in such a way that I just want to shout "Bam! You got Tuccied!" Oh, and Peter Gallagher is in it, looking like Peter Gallagher on the downward spiral that is his career over the last ten years or so. So yes, a star studded cast.

The big problem is that it's two hours long. After that, let's be honest, unless you've got 3D robots, who gives a flying fuck?

2011-07-19T21:16:00.000-07:00

Training Day

There's nothing like a crowded train in a major city on a 90+ degree day to make people want to punch each other in the cunt. I'm pretty sure I got elbowed in the kidney no fewer than sixteen times on my way to work this morning, even as I attempted to will myself into not sweating through my shirt, which was of course white. After about three stops the train was completely full, which led to many colorful dialogues between the people on the platform and the people standing in the door. But it wasn't until Armitage when things almost came to blows, due to a particularly portly fellow and the excessive use of the phrase "move in a little." Someone on the train decided to clarify that there was, in fact, no where to move in, unless the train had a secret passageway somewhere that no one knew about. The would-be boarder than began ranting and swearing loudly about how this asshole was going to get him fired because he would be late. Another passenger then offered helpful advice about leaving a little earlier in the morning, and then there was a lot of jostling and grunting. I almost dropped my Red Eye.

2011-07-17T20:08:00.000-07:00

The Talk

For some reason, strangers frequently feel the need to speak to me randomly. I am often stopped by tourists who need directions, and half the time I even send them the right way. Of course panhandlers love me, even though I have now mastered the art of walking with purpose and avoiding eye contact. And sometimes people in the waiting room at the doctor's office start telling me all about their medical histories, despite my sincere efforts to demonstrate my complete and total lack of interest. I guess I have a face that says "I'm listening" even when my lips are saying "go to hell."

Anyway, I mention this because it happened twice today. First, at church, the guy in front of us turned around at told my sister and me that we had beautiful singing voices and should perform for a living. Of course we are quitting our jobs and following his advice, but I find it odd that it was offered in the first place, much less with a side of the body of Christ. And then at my sister's pool, a woman of a certain age tried three or four times to engage me in conversation about the issue of People she was reading. But I just don't have that much to say about the weight loss strategies of minor celebrities. I guess I will just have to study up for next time.

2011-07-12T21:27:00.001-07:00

TV Time

A lot of big TV news lately, folks. Well, not really, but big news if you're into ironic enjoyment. That's right, ABC Family has renewed Melissa & Joey for a second season. So we'll have another 22 episodes to try to figure out what happened to that Asian assistant character they had for about three episodes in the first season and adjust our volumes to a level suitable for Melissa Joan Hart's high decibel line readings. Maybe we'll also be able to wrap our heads around the CRAZY idea of a man keeping house and taking care of children for a living! It's like they brought back the actors from the '90s but the attitudes from the '70s. I love vintage television.

It was also announced this week that Dierdre Hall is returning to Days of Our Lives as Marlena Evans Brady, the woman who was possessed by Satan briefly in the late 1990s. (Not to be confused with Carly, the woman on Days of Our Lives who was buried alive briefly in the late 1990s.) Of course, it's too much to hope for a reprise of that little plot line, but I'm excited just to see what her face will look like! After having so much time off, there's bound to have been a bit of nippage and tuckage that was done.

2011-07-10T20:18:00.000-07:00

House Party

Yesterday my sister and I went to the Robie House, the Frank Lloyd Wright building down in Hyde Park. On Saturdays they have events where you can just roam the house freely and "use the house as a house," although I did not take that to mean that I was allowed to take a shower or curl up for a nap on the living roam sofa. It turned out that as a space it was really not overrated, with lots of beautiful, bright open spaces and a great sense of overall unity to the design. It is sort of too bad how the house was neglected and misused over the years before preservation became a cool thing to do, but they're trying to buy back the furniture now and get replicas of the original fixtures (really, it's as though the place was used as a frat house), which is good. I'll be interested to go back in a few years and see how they've progressed.

But the really interesting part of the afternoon was the Q&A that followed the presentation on a local museum and its preservation issues. As everyone knows, allowing an audience to ask questions is really just an invitation for them to make declarative statements that show how smart they are. And so we had innumerable questions that followed the format "I once saw a museum exhibit about X and it was great. Are you going to do any exhibits like that?" Then there were more general ramblings about the importance of museums generally, with a few references to articles in the New Yorker or Vanity Fair thrown in. But my favorite was the gentleman who asked if they were restoring the museum facilities to look like any specific year and, when the speaker replied that she didn't know, tried to explain what he meant by the term "year." Or maybe it was the lady who just asked if she could get her parking validated, I don't know.

2011-07-07T21:00:00.000-07:00

Round Midnight

I saw Midnight in Paris last night. It was all right. Frankly, I would be fine with just staring at well shot images of Paris for two hours. (I did think I saw a boom mike in the corner of one shot, though, I swear.) Anyway, I was fairly convinced it would be vastly overrated just because it's kind of hard for me to fathom why Woody Allen would suddenly be getting the biggest box office of his career at approximately 170. And it certainly isn't as good as any number of his movies, most notably Annie Hall, Manhattan, Match Point, Zelig, and I would even say Sleeper. (My parents took me to see that one when I was like 3, apparently not bothered by the fact that it's beyond dirty.) But it was enjoyable. Sort of quaint. All of the celebrities of today playing celebrities of the past were charming, and Owen Wilson was one of the better Woody Allen stand-ins we've seen. Rachel McAdams came across as an all around horrible human being, but that was pretty much what she was there to do. I could have done without the Adrien Brody, but that's pretty much a constant.

So yeah. Worth seeing, I suppose. Although I'm still holding out for Transformers 3.

2011-07-05T21:16:00.000-07:00

Independence, Day

I had a pretty nice fourth, as it turned out. When I woke up, Halle Berry's Catwoman was on TV, which is how I would like to start every day, if only it were socially acceptable. I just enjoy watching Oscar winners rub catnip across their faces sensually, is that so wrong? Then I took the train down to my sister's place, which gave me the opportunity to eavesdrop on strangers and confirm that their lives were no more interesting than my own. Then we had several hours of pool time, which actually involved very little time in the pool and much more time spent reading old issues of Us Weekly in the sun and eating a Potbelly's sub with my shirt off. It's a real advantage to not have to worry about getting mayonnaise on your clothes.

We briefly checked out the Navy Pier fireworks, but did not bother to go any closer than the yard in front of my sister's building. And indeed we were rewarded for our sloth, for upon returning to her apartment, we discovered that there were approximately ten million different fireworks displays going on in various neighborhoods and suburbs to the south and east, all of which we could see from the comfort of the couch. Well, relative comfort. My sister inherited whatever gene my parents have that keeps them from turning on the damn air conditioning.

2011-07-03T20:42:00.000-07:00

American History Fun Facts

-- In addition to a cherry tree, George Washington also chopped down two pine trees, a mailbox, and his next door neighbor Prudence.
-- One of the leading causes of the Civil War was disagreement over who should play the Sally Field role in Steel Magnolias.
-- Benjamin Franklin was not, in fact, all about the Benjamins.
-- The U.S. Constitution originally had over four hundred proposed amendments, including a ban on "scrubs" and mandatory "topless Thursdays."
-- In the effort to conceal his polio, FDR would frequently tell people that Elanor had broken both of his legs with a meat cleaver.
-- Calvin Coolidge guest starred as Rachel's boyfriend on a three episode arc of Friends.
-- The War of 1812 actually took place in 1974.
-- No one actually cares about the Teapot Dome Scandal.
-- Thomas Jefferson was very much cuckoo for coco puffs.
-- The signing of the Declaration of Independence was immediately preceded by a signing of Jackie Collins' Lucky.
-- The Great Depression was actually not so great.

2011-07-01T19:44:00.000-07:00

Anti-Dentite

So I feel like I end up writing about the dentist every time I go there, but the fact of the matter is that something weird always happens that I'm dying to share. A big part of this is that they go through hygienists like Paula Abdul goes through painkillers. I swear to god I've had about six different ladies scraping at my teeth at this point, from the one who talked to me about colonial dolls the whole time to the one who dropped her scraper thingy on the floor and then tried to put it back in my mouth without sterilizing it. I actually preferred her in a lot of ways.

Anyway, today's lady was no exception to the general rule of craziness. She began our visit by quizzing me on the Us magazine I'd been reading in the lobby, despite my repeated protestations that I hadn't even read the article about Kim Kardashian's upcoming wedding to some gay dude. She then insisted that I wrench my body into an exceedingly uncomfortable position where my head was essentially thrown back at a right angle to my body because that made it easier for her to get her tools into my mouth and "she's all about the ergonomics." Then came the relentless verbal assault on my tartar, which she seemed to view as a personal affront to her dignity. But the highlight had to be when she announced that my gums were "extra bleedy or something" as I spat about three quarts of red into the sink. Either that or when she suggested, apropos of nothing, that I get veneers.

I don't think this will be a problem for long, however, as I can tell that my dentist already hates her. He gave her a whole list of mistakes she made in the cleaning of my teeth and kept passive aggressively announcing that "it would be his preference" if she would do it correctly. And he physically smacked my chart out of his field of vision when she tried to bring it over to him. So yes, I think I'll have another post about a new person in another four months. Mark your calendars.

2011-06-29T16:21:00.000-07:00

Higher Office

I have been appointed the treasurer of my condo association. Isn't that what every young person dreams of? All those years of struggling and striving, wearing your fingers down to a nub doing calculations on your TI-73, developing an eating disorder just for the hell of it, and finally you really arrive, as the third in command of a do-nothing organization with income of less than $500 a month, a quarter of which comes from you personally. I have a checkbook and a debit card and everything, and I am even authorized to use them in the event of a water or power bill. I'm trying not to become too drunk with power, but come on, I have an accordion file with last year's insurance invoice in it. How sexy is that?

This is actually a big step up from my last post as secretary, if only because I won't have to take notes of the meetings we have about once every five years. My hand does cramp up something fierce. And maybe I can throw out those binders they gave me when I became secretary that I never opened. Freeing up some additional storage space in the kitchen pantry would definitely make my whole life worthwhile.

2011-06-26T17:30:00.000-07:00

Back to Black

I'm watching Black Swan for the second time right now. Well, watching is maybe the wrong term. I keep turning away like every five minutes because something gross is going to happen to someone's fingernails and/or face. Also I'm spending a pretty good amount of time on the internet looking for information on the new season of Degrassi coming up. But it's on, at least.

Frankly, it's pretty fucked up. I mean, I'm all for Natalie Portman masturbating and dyking out with Mila Kunis, but there are long stretches in between where she's essentially just trembling and looking sad. Or sprouting feathers or some shit. I'm sure it's all supposed to be very profound, but I like my profundity a bit less gory, I guess. It is pretty great when she shoves Mila into that mirror, though.

2011-06-24T19:40:00.000-07:00

Cold & Calculated

I have recently rediscovered the joys of the TI-73. I've been doing a lot of calculating for work lately and I finally got tired of using the mouse to click each number in to the tiny calculator that microsoft provides. I actually requisitioned a calculator from my office (I had to fill out a form and everything), but when it arrived it only went up to eight digits. That's not going to do it for my clients! So I brought in the good old TI-73 from home, and it's super fun! It doesn't take me three hours to type in a single digit, plus I can see the whole sequence of numbers I'm adding on the screen to double check for mistakes without having to do everything twice. I actually have the ability to square things. And the graphs, oh my good lord the graphs! I worry that I am actually beginning to become sexually aroused.

The bad news, though, is that the batteries are almost dead, a fact of which it advises me every time I turn it on. Amazing how that can happen after a mere five years in a drawer. I blame the Chinese, obviously.

2011-06-21T19:44:00.000-07:00

Once in a Lifetime

I have recently become rather enamored of the Lifetime Movie Network. Perhaps I should be ashamed of this, but I honestly feel like it says more about the sad state of summer television than about my taste as an individual. There's just nothing else to watch!

Not that I need anything else, of course. There are plenty of cheating husbands, psychotic homewreckers, and tragic accidents to entertain for weeks over on LMN. And the titles, oh, the titles! They've never met a cliche they didn't love. Right now I'm watching part of the "Affairs of the Heart" series entitled "Stranger in my Bed." It's about a woman who has changed her identity to avoid her abusive ex husband. And apparently to get a horrible weave, as well. It's a two-part plan.

There are lots of great second acts in American acting lives on LMN as well. Sure, everyone knows about how Connie Selleca and Tori Spelling made it big on Lifetime, but what about Tiffany Thiessen, Dana Delaney, Sharon Lawrence, and Kelly Preston? Those are just the huge star shining brightly IN THE NEXT WEEK on LMN.

I feel like I've already said too much about this, but come on. Someone has to advocate for Great Art in America.

2011-06-19T19:50:00.000-07:00

Class

So I have continued to take my fitness classes every Saturday morning, which sort of makes me feel like a 42-year old soccer mom from the suburbs, but so be it. There are a lot of great things about these classes, first and foremost among them being the fact that I now have an ab. (Yes, it's just one, but I'm starting small.) It also amazing to enjoy the personnel for these classes, which include:

-- Our teacher, who plays the entire Lady Gaga catalogue for every class and likes to make commentary on the songs, such as "Number one song in the country, everyone" and "This one really gets you up and moving, doesn't it?"
-- The crazy lady who comes ten minutes late to every class, does all of the moves as though she's slightly narcoleptic, and smiles at herself in the mirror the whole time.
-- The pregnant lady so thin you can pretty much see the baby's facial features.
-- The guy who appears to be auditioning for A Chorus Line in every class, adding high kicks and jazz hands to even the most low key moves.
-- The guy who wrings the sweat out of his towel directly onto the mat that someone else is going to end up using next week.
-- The lady who just sits in the back and stares.

With this fearless crew to help me, I am bound to be fit and healthy in nothing flat!

2011-06-17T19:54:00.000-07:00

Real

I saw my first ever episode of Real Housewives of New York tonight. Or rather, my first ever three quarters of an episode. It left me rather confused, I fear. I mean, I know it's a reality show and therefore by definition fake, but this one seems faker than most, sort of like everyone realizes they're supposed to be fake. Maybe it's the fact that most of their facial features are fake, I don't know. But seriously, these women are not good at portraying human beings.

Also, why are there so many of them? I find it very hard to keep track. Especially since they all have the same plastic-surgery-induced catlike smile. Although some of them definitely have better surgeons than others. The key is in the facial mobility, as in it is good to have some of it.

There was a lot of passive aggression. Not yelling so much as people just sort of casually sniping at one another. It was sort of like if that one scene from the Hills where LC and Heidi first saw each other after the sex tape rumor lasted for a full hour. You may not understand what in the world these people are fighting about, but you can certainly tell they genuinely don't like each other. I did like the part where they made fun of each other's clothes, though.

I think I need something with fewer layers of meaning, like Top Model or Balzac.

2011-06-14T18:42:00.000-07:00

Insert Title Here

I saw Super 8 tonight. I thought I should have some hilarious jokey title for this like "Super Great" or "8 is Enough" or "I Stayed at a Super 8 Motel Once and Found a Condom in the Shower," but I just couldn't do it. Sorry, I'm sure I'll be back to punning in no time.

Anyway, it was pretty good. It was not at all what I expected, frankly. I thought it would be one of those creature movies where there's like heads exploding and guts everywhere and all sorts of startling jump cuts, but it turned out to have all kinds of feelings and soaring soundtrack and stuff. As it turned out, the REAL monster was parental abandonment.

As for the other monster, it was sort of lame, but that's kind of what I expect from these things at this point. It kind of looked like a big spider with Brad Pitt's eyes. It didn't really do too terribly much disembowling, either. And it was magnetic for some reason or other?

As for the OTHER other monster, it's name is Elle Fanning, and I'm pretty sure it lives under the sea.

2011-06-12T12:16:00.001-07:00

Greetings

I missed you all during my uneventful absence. I'm not going to lie; some days this week I was crazy busy, but other days I just plain forgot. So here we are on Sunday, liveblogging my feelings of guilt and inadequacy. This should be fun for the whole family, like mid-90s Robin Williams or the less pornographic programming on ABC Family.

So my big news is that I broke out in hives this morning for no apparent reason. Just after breakfast I turned bright red, felt heat radiating off my body, and itched like crazy. I had not eaten anything foreign or rolled around in any industrial materials. At first I thought it was a massive acne breakout, but even when I was actually 14 things were never that bad for me. The combination of a spontaneous shower and a half tab of Benadryl returned me to my natural color and consistency.

I also finished the Tina Fay book this week. I enjoyed it a lot, although I was a bit disappointed that roughly a quarter of it had already appeared in the New Yorker. I actually laughed out loud a couple of times while reading it, which caused my fellow passengers to inch slowly away from me on the train. Which, frankly, is not a bad thing. Summer body odor season has definitely begun.

2011-06-07T16:10:00.001-07:00

Summer Times

There is nothing like a hot day to destroy people's sense of what apparel is work appropriate. You pass 90 and suddenly crop tops and bicycle pants seem like just the thing to wear to that court appearance. Making that sales call in your Speedo seems like an acceptable risk. Yesterday the air conditioning in my office building went out (because apparently that can happen) and I was longing for a pair of short shorts myself. Let it be clear that I am not complaining, however; I will take heat stroke over January in Chicago any day.

Thankfully we have a new frozen yogurt shop to help beat the heat in my neighborhood. They even claim that a small cup is only 100 calories, although I'm guessing that's before I've dressed it up with about five pounds of cookie dough bits, white chocolate chips, and fudge topping. The greatest thing, though, is that you pay by the pound, so I don't get burned for being a total topping hog. I've always said that, with a little luck, one can really make gluttony pay.

2011-06-05T18:20:00.000-07:00

Fun/Sun

Why is it that no matter how liberal I am with the sunscreen, I always manage to miss a spot somewhere? Now I've got a burn in the middle of my back, but everywhere else is pretty white. And it hurts when I sit back in my chair or, for that matter, shrug my shoulders. Like most problems that white people have, this one will only last a few days, but it is still annoying. I bought more sunscreen today just for good measure.

I've actually been to Walgreen's twice, CVS once, and Jewel once in the last three days. Part of it is that I keep forgetting to buy ant traps. But part of it is also just that the Walgreen's is between here and the gym. So why NOT stop to buy some Pez?

The source of the sunburn, by the way, was my trip to my sister's pool yesterday. Former Roommate Liz came, which resulted in some enjoyment. As a former head lifeguard in Barrington, Illinois, FRL tried to show off her lifeguard moves, which seemed to consist of shouting "I've got this one!" in a deep voice and then nearly drowning my sister. I nearly drowned, too, but only because it turns out I can't swim when I'm laughing really hard. Danger lurks everywhere, let me tell you.

2011-06-02T20:50:00.000-07:00

Business Traveler

So my work trip to Indianapolis primarily served to remind me that all those work trips to New York really weren't so bad after all. The plane to Indy is teeny -- only three seats across -- and someone whacked me in the head with the overhead bin door while I was walking to my seat. I had to gate check my carry on because the bins were so small, and we didn't even get a drink because the flight was so short. I was really counting on that caffeine since I got up at 5 AM, too.

I saw nothing of Indianapolis except the conference rooms where my work was and the nearby McDonald's where we made up for the caffeine deficit upon arrival. Frequent readers will know, however, that I have been before, and thus already have sufficient familiarity with the lovely canals and chain restaurants.

The airport dining is definitely a point in Indianapolis' favor, though. Lots of decent spots past security, unlike LaGuardia, where you're essentially limited to the Auntie Anne's Pretzels and the newsstand. And there was a candy by the pound store right by my gate! I remain richly blessed with a bag of Mike & Ikes and melted chocolate to this day.