mad style is just that

i love the tv series Mad Men. This is not news. One of the reasons for my affection is the impeccable set design and the award-winning costuming by Janie Bryant. i, of course, have absolutely zero knowledge of life in 1960s Manhattan, not even peripherally, so it's all very foreign to me in a strange way that Americana can be foreign to an American. (i don't know if that makes sense, but do me a favor and pretend it does.)

Mad Men is packed with subtext and nuance and the costuming is no exception. i didn't realize just how thoroughly realized the show is until some of my favorite bloggers, Tom and Lorenzo, took on the mammoth task of analyzing the costuming of a range of characters on an episode-by-episode basis. Tom and Lorenzo ("TLo" to their followers) entered the blogosphere via their affection for Project Runway and fashion in general. Lucky for me, they also developed bloggy obsessions for Lost and Mad Men and they introduced me to the marvels of RuPaul and the wonderful world of drag.

Their Mad Men recaps and analyses consistently expose me to entire levels of meaning both in the writing of the show and in a cultural history i would otherwise know very little about. To say i am a devoted fan of theirs would be an understatement. i thought my affection was complete, and THEN they started doing 'Mad Style', the aforementioned analyses of the costuming, and my brain exploded. They notice EVERYTHING about a given character's outfit in a given scene: how it clashes or blends with the set, how the fabrics, fit, colors, prints, shape and accessories clash or coordinate with the other characters in the scene, how it falls in the arc of the character's development, how it fits or doesn't fit into the character's social standing, etc, etc. EXHAUSTIVE and FASCINATING. Here's a tidbit example:

We LOVE this dress, which is a bit of a herald for the mod styles that will come in only a few years. Joan would never wear the mod styles and truth be told, such a graphic dress is a bit unusual for Joan, but she'll wear a dress that forces men to look at her and this one fits the bill nicely.
The graphic quality helps to highlight some of the emotional turmoil she's feeling regarding Roger. She's normally a solid column of color or tone on tone and every now and then breaks out a high contrast skirt and blouse combo, but this is entirely outside her wheelhouse as we've come to understand it. Bottom line: the relationship with Roger is getting dangerous from an emotional standpoint (something she's normally good about avoiding) and it's reflected in this dress.

Obviously, TLo's series of posts is a must for any Mad Men fan, but it would also be of interest to anyone with experience with or curiosity about 1960's fashions and customs, or the arts of set design and costuming and how those work together with writing and casting a film or television show. Before you go devour the (15 and counting) posts, be advised that they contain plot spoilers. If you ever plan on watching Mad Men from the beginning, you should start now and wait to do Mad Style until you have S1 under your belt. Season 4 starts next month (July 25, i think), so if you want to jump in midstream now (totally doable, by the way- it's not one of those shows you MUST watch from the beginning), and you want a good analysis/recap of the first 3 seasons along with some excellent insight into costuming, you should totally tackle Mad Style.

Do you trust me? You should, and if you do, you will take up Mad Style (and Mad Men, if you don't already watch. Which...if you don't, i don't understand whyyyyyyy)

not miserable

Being that i'm just shy of 7 months pregnant, and being that the genetic lottery has determined i'm a relatively lithe person, and being that maternity clothes are UUUUUUGLY and i have no budget for them anyway so i'm just stretching my regular t-shirts and tank tops over the basketball attached to my torso, it's safe to say i'm noticeably pregnant. This of course leads to strangers engaging in conversation with me about my 'state'. The checker at Chevron, the guy at Costco, strangers at church, people in parking lots....en totum. It usually goes something like this:

How far along are you?

When are you due?

Oh, all summer huh?

Do you know what you're having?

Do you have a name picked out?

Is this your first?

Are you excited?

Friends and acquaintances ask if i'm tired of strangers getting all up in my biz and asking awkward questions, but i'm honestly not. (And not just because the questions are usually accompanied by compliments about how great i look.) So far no one has asked me anything terribly personal and, aside from the aforementioned Chevron checker asking 'so are you totally miserable?' i haven't fielded anything i wasn't prepared to answer. The way i see it, people see 'pregnancy' in flashing neon and an instinctual excitement clicks on and they want to connect with it in the only socially acceptable way available to them: conversation. We pass a hundred people every day in the grocery store, coffee shop, bank, etc and have no known way of connecting with them beyond a gripe about gas prices or a comment on what's in the produce section, so when there's something that inspires a fundamental sense of shared experience, who am i to begrudge what comes out of that? Every person born becomes a part of our experience as citizens, and in Times Like These, when things are being slashed and tightened and restricted and hoarded, anything representing abundance and growth and future has an extra measure of wonder thrust upon it. i'm fine with that. You should be too. As thinking and feeling as we humans are, we are also primal creatures. Primally, when our species reproduces, it means we'll have someone to care for us when we're old and infirm and it means the work we accomplish in our lifetimes will not have been in vain because there are future members to take advantage of it and to continue it on to greater purposes. It doesn't bother me when strangers quiz me about my state of fertility, not because i'm soooo enlightened, but because it's obvious they're excited and since i'm excited, why can't we all be excited together? It's good for the tribe. i obviously don't speak for every pregnant woman waddling around in the world right now and there are certainly those who guard their privacy moreso than i do mine, but this is me telling you that if you encounter a pregnant stranger, it is okay to engage her in polite conversation in order to express your primal joy. (Remember: it is not okay to touch her stomach any more than it is okay to touch a non-pregnant stranger's stomach.) Saying, "observing your fertility has made me excited" is NOT a good idea (especially if you're a man) because she'll think you're a dangerously weird pregophile, but you can say, "a baby on the way! That's exciting! Gooo species!!" or something to that effect. Okay? Glad we had this little chat.

**Edited to add: Erin K. reminded me of one line of questioning i've received that, although frightfully prevalent, does NOT fall under the umbrella of 'appropriate' or 'polite' and that is the, 'Were you trying to have a baby?' or 'Was this planned?' angle. i simply do not understand what answer people are looking for with this question. If the answer is 'yes', well then.....boring. If the answer is 'no' then, isn't that awkward? "Oh. So you didn't want to have a baby right now but you're pregnant so.....i'm sorry?" It's just a bizarre line of questioning that yields no fruitful conversation AND is NONE of your business! Honestly. Just be primally enthusiastic that the species is continuing and don't concern yourself with whether it was due to months of temperature-taking and strategically timed hankypanky, one night of boozy inhibition, or anything in between.

Here's something completely unrelated that restores my faith in humankind:

open letter to our neighbors

Dear neighbors to our left and right and across and behind (but really only to the left because, honestly, we know it was you)-

Hello! How are you? This spring weather is nutty, isn't it? i hope it means we'll have a mild summer and, fingers crossed, a minimal fire season. (You see, this is how you converse with neighbors. It doesn't have to be about weather, per se, any manner of generic conversation works to ascertain the fact that yes, we DO speak English and are therefore capable of communicating with you. We know at least one of you speaks English because we can hear you gossiping rather viciously on the phone in your back yard.) Your lawn and the exterior of your home look nice as usual. Ours, we know, does not. You may not realize this, (because you've never asked) but we're renovating the interior of our home at the moment. (You probably could've guessed as much when a few months ago we had drywallers coming and going from our house for several days, or when, last August, we removed several truckloads of rubble from the inside of our house, via the front door. I'm surprised you didn't inquire about the source of the rubble, since it was kind of a curious thing to remove that much stone and concrete (and a freaking LOG) from INSIDE a house. i know i would've been intrigued if i saw a neighbor doing so and i would have struck up a conversation about their renovation project. But i've since learned you prefer accusations to inquiries, so, there's that.) Anyway, we realize that, from the outside, we are the unsightliest house on the street. (You needn't point that out, but you did anyway.) What you may not know (because you don't ask) is that inside our house is a myriad of logistical issues that take priority for everyday living, moreso than new siding, exterior paint, and landscaping do. (There's the lack of a bathtub, the drainage and flooding issues, the half of our garage fairly unusable because the previous owners were growing marijuana in it....oh and several aesthetic issues like wood paneling and dirt floors) Being first-time homeowners, (yes, we are first-timers, as you condescendingly surmised in that one letter you wrote wherein you declared us 'overwhelmed' and therein suggested we made poor judgements of our resources when we purchased the house) we have to stretch our dollars strategically, and take small steps toward our goals. We're truly sorry we can't offer a more pleasing landscape for you to live next to. You don't know us well (or at all, see: note about making conversation), but we are visual, artistic people who come from good families with high standards of home and garden upkeep. Being thus, we are embarrassed of our home's unsightliness on a regular basis. (Yes, your drawing attention to its failure to compare with yours does indeed add to our humiliation. No, large amounts of embarrassment cannot be used as currency at the Lowe's Garden Center; we've checked.) Rest assured that when we have the resources, we will attend to the issue with gusto (and we'll pray that it meets your standards of visual interest and environmental specificity because you will no doubt find a way to bring it to our attention (not via conversation, of course) if it does not).

The purpose of this letter was to address your concern over the safety of the public waterway that runs through our property. You may have noticed that the city of Redding, does not attend to or in any way maintain said storm drain. (The absence of their maintenance probably had much to do with its flooding all over our property and the street last March.) There are many things that grow in the storm drain and infringe upon our property and it attracts copious amounts of noisy frogs and various critters like skunks and possums. (In fact, due to the poor upkeep of both the storm drain and our home (under the previous owner), we had both skunks and possums living IN our walls when we moved in. Did YOU have to eradicate wildlife from your home when you first moved in? Again: a little conversation goes a long way in understanding others' situations.) That being said, as frustrating as the storm drain's presence is to us, we refrain from taking extreme measures to deal with it, as we realize it IS a public waterway. Therefore, when someone ("anonymously") filed a claim with the Shasta County Agriculture Bureau declaring that we were poisoning public waterways via pesticides, we were hurt. (We heart the planet, which may be difficult for you to believe since we.....have an ugly house?) We were also a little confused, because by simply looking at the very fertile and thriving plants overflowing from the storm drain, it would be clear that we hadn't put anything in it to infringe upon the natural process of Things Growing. (Yes, we used pesticides (Round-Up) in our yard, because our 'yard' is actually just a plot of weeds. See: Neglect of previous, marijuana-smoking owners. You don't seem to like the weeds so we killed them, lest they spread into your admittedly nice and well-kept yard. The Round-Up turned our yard a lovely, crispy brown. There is a clear line of crispy brown vs vibrant green between the edge of our yard and the edge of the storm drain because we were precise in our application and did NOT spray in the public waterway. Is every member of your family colorblind? If so, that would explain your assumption of our guilt, though it would not explain why you didn't just ask us in person.) Based on the "anonymous" claim to the Ag Bureau, a nice man named Mr. Yingst drove out to our house to investigate and talk to Josh. Fortunately, Mr. Yingst (is not colorblind and) quickly determined that we were clearly within the law in our dealings with the pesky storm drain and our application of pesticide, and that no harm would come to the public or its waterways. (He was quite annoyed, if you must know, at the blatant falseness of your claim. Way to piss off a public employee!) He expressed his sympathy for our storm drain plight and then he apologized for taking our time and left. (i'm pretty sure his salary is tax-payer funded, so i hope you realize how your actions effected the rest of us and Mr. Yingst's ability to investigate legitimate dangers to other public waterways in Shasta County.) We thought you'd like to know the results of the claim. We have the official paperwork if you'd like to see it (though you'll have to come to the door and ask. Verbally. Which means talking to us.).

That's all the business we wanted to attend to with you. Please feel free to discuss any questions or concerns with us. We want to be good neighbors, so if our lifestyle or our pets or whatever are causing problems, we can only rectify the situation if it's brought to our attention. We promise to be as forthright and respectful with you, should the need arise. (Also, get a life. Don't be mean. And buy a house within a Home Owners' Association next time, if you're that concerned with how your neighbors' properties look.)

Sincerely,

The Markles

on Bradbury

i realized that i hadn't updated the gem in the sidebar in quite a while, and it's not so cold anymore so i went a-hunting for a new gem. Being between books at the moment, i didn't have a source at hand, so i used the Google machine to find a good Ray Bradbury quote to use as our gem for the next indeterminate phase. Why Ray Bradbury? *heavy sigh* He's only the greatest writer ever. That's all. In this moment i've just decided to read everything he's ever written before i die. i've much to do then. Yes. Much reading lies ahead. If you're a fan, let me know if you have a recommendation for how to tackle my new task. Thanks.

Lovely, i'm glad we got to share this moment....which was inspired by my fear of going to bed because bed is not a happy place for me anymore. It is an itchy place, full of itching. And not sleeping. (HAVE A BABY! PREGNANCY IS SUPER FUN! LIKE TOTALLY!)

Anyway, the reasons a simple gem switch-out got turned into a full post: i hadn't posted in a bit and i kinda sorta promised i would post more, and :there are too many Bradbury gems to choose from and you need more than one to get you through your life. i feel responsible to share them with you. You needn't have read any Bradbury to appreciate him (though if you haven't i gently weep for you). i had the immense, unbelievable privilege to hear him speak and to have him sign my copy of Fahrenheit 451 when i was but a lowly undergrad at PLNU. Internet, he can speak. About life, writing, imagination, work, humanity, great lays and mad geniuses, craft and joy.... it was breathtaking. Literally. i found myself holding my breath more than once. i'm pretty sure i cried too. It was that overwhelming. (you can watch the 2001 interview here, it's about 30 mins long) i've declared this before (somewhere, to someone, though i don't recall): the day Ray Bradbury leaves this earth i will drink heavily and be very melancholy and nostalgic and generally unbearable to be around. i will mourn. Be prepared.

Anyway. Here are the gems i selected for you.

"We are the miracle of force and matter making itself over into imagination and will. Incredible. The Life Force experimenting with forms. You for one. Me for another. The Universe has shouted itself alive. We are one of the shouts."

"Don't think. Thinking is the enemy of creativity. It's self-conscious, and anything self-conscious is lousy. You can't try to do things. You simply must do things."

"Every morning I jump out of bed and step on a landmine. The landmine is me. After the explosion, I spent the rest of the day putting the pieces together."

"If we listened to our intellect, we'd never have a love affair. We'd never have a friendship. We'd never go into business, because we'd be cynical. Well, that's nonsense. You've got to jump off cliffs all the time and build your wings on the way down."

"If you dream the proper dreams, and share the myths with people, they will want to grow up to be like you."

"Love. Fall in love and stay in love. Write only what you love, and love what you write. The key word is love. You have to get up in the morning and write something you love, something to live for."

"My stories run up and bite me on the leg - I respond by writing down everything that goes on during the bite. When I finish, the idea lets go and runs off."

"We are anthill men upon an anthill world."

"You don't have to burn books to destroy a culture. Just get people to stop reading them."

"You must write every single day of your life... You must lurk in libraries and climb the stacks like ladders to sniff books like perfumes and wear books like hats upon your crazy heads... may you be in love every day for the next 20,000 days. And out of that love, remake a world."

"Anything you dream is fiction, and anything you accomplish is science, the whole history of mankind is nothing but science fiction. "

"You have to know how to accept rejection and reject acceptance."

"If you stuff yourself full of poems, essays, plays, stories, novels, films, comic strips, magazines, music, you automatically explode every morning like Old Faithful. I have never had a dry spell in my life, mainly because I feed myself well, to the point of bursting. I wake early and hear my morning voices leaping around in my head like jumping beans. I get out of bed to trap them before they escape."

and now i understand

For quite some time now i've been mystified by the popularity of Glenn Beck.

i am not a fan.

There are many things/people/trends of which i'm not a fan, but i can still understand at least a bit of why others are drawn to them. Try as i might, i cannot understand Glenn Beck's appeal. Here's where i admit that 'try as i might' means 'i don't try terribly hard.' Frankly, there are only 24 hours in the day and since i only sleep about 4 of those hours anymore, i don't want to spend too much of my precious 20 thinking about why people devote themselves to an angry man and his angry ideas. i guess i just assumed that angry follows angry. Or begets. Or whatever. It's just that it's one thing to agree with someone's positions or ideas, it's another to cheer on that person's vitriol and their propagation of general bitterness and disunity. That's where i lose track of the WHYYYY?? of it all.

Then, in the magical land of Facebook, a friend pondered the very same question (albeit more graciously than i) and later posted the following as how he understands it all to work. Though this video is a few years old and never mentions Glenn Beck, i think it deftly explains his type and the type that are his many fans. Perhaps you too have been befuddled by the hype; here is the key. Or perhaps you are a fan; here is how i understand you. If it's incorrect, please explain.

But i think it's correct.

tirades available upon request

A blog-less friend was recently lamenting the abuses of those esteemed systems: social networking sites, and asked that i take the fight to the people (you know, the 2 people who follow my ramblings). Blogs are lovely because you're mostly anonymous and therefore unaccountable for that which you self-righteously spew. To counter that shifty reality, i give you this nugget to de-anonymize myself: i once accidentally torched my family's whole front yard in an effort to get the toilet paper out of our trees after my older brother's 'friends' toilet papered our property, even though said brother was living over six hundred miles away at the time. (super cool prank, guys) There, now you KNOW me on a deep (yet non-biblical) level.

Social networking sites: (ie Facebook) The purpose is for parties with mutual interests to come together and share those mutual interests. Friends share friendships, fans fanaticize the objects of their fantasies, charities connect with likehearted individuals, and kicks and giggles are shared by people of mutual kickable-gigglage. What makes it work is the natural connections of commonality and the natural divergence of those without any overlapping interests. For something so tech-based, it is actually quiet organic in function. Being thus, the network should not be forced. Unfortunately, there are 3 main categories of abusers who force the network to do things it shouldn't, and i'm calling them out.

(*precursor: when i mention repeated requests i don't mean a 2nd request, because that could be the result of someone forgetting they already made an initial request. i'm talking about the 3rd, 4th, 5th requests and beyond.)

Abuser 1: the Alma Mater Bludgeoner

This is the guy or girl who went to the same high school as you and considers that reason enough for you to be Facebook friends. You probably never even knew him/her in high school, he/she may not have been in your graduating class, and maybe you're both already in the FHS RULZ! GO COUGARS!! fan club, but this person still thinks you should be FRIENDS. You scan for mutual friends, don't see any of significance, hit "Ignore." Then the bludgeoning begins: a few days later, there's another request. You hit "Ignore", this time with emphasis (only the emphasis of a mouse click is for naught, sadly). A few days later, ANOTHER REQUEST! Now, if they're so convinced they're deserving of friendship, wouldn't they send a note along with your request? Like, 'remember? you cheated off my quiz that one time in remedial PE?' or 'hey, i don't know if you remember me, but i had the locker next to yours and i used to try to smell your hair while you pretended i didn't exist.' Even if it were bizarre, the explanation would at least give the repeated requests some legitimacy. But a lack of note is the first sign of an Alma Mater Bludgeoner. They simply have no concept of how a social network works and are only friend-collectors. Deny these people: if you've already let them in, delete them. 9 out of 10 won't even notice and the 1 who does is actually not a Bludgeoner, but has just been outed as a creepy stalker and you don't want to encourage that kind of behavior anyway. (if you do, you probably luuUUUuuv Twilight and have deeper issues that i don't feel like dealing with.)

Abuser 2: the Pious Pusher

i can't tell you how many times i've declined one friend's invitation to become a fan of a particular charity for clean water in a certain country. It's not because i don't think there sh

ould be clean drinking water for everyone on the planet (believe me, i do) but because i have a personal policy to choose my charities carefully, lest i become one of those who 'stands for everything and falls for anything.' i subscribe to the quality over quantity system of charity. i have certain issues and causes that are important to me because of my interests and background and i can better focus on them if i don't have 35 other fanpages/groups to keep up with. If i see someone in my news feed joining the fandom of charity after charity, i form the opinion that that person is more a fan of looking charitable than of actually doing good. This is where the haters stand up and declare me THE MOST DEFENSIVE CYNIC EVERRRRR! which is partly true, so there. Now try sailing without any wind, haters! Anyway: Pious Pusher who has invited me to support the Haiti Water Project at least 10 times- your first few requests were part of a noble effort, but the last 7 made you seem like a self-righteous, judgmental jerk, especially since you never actually talk to me or engage in any other way. Do not abuse the network system. Cut your losses and spend your energy on parties who share your focus.

Abuser 3: the Boorish Blogger

This abuser has a wordpress or blogspot blog in addition to alllll the time and updating they put into their Facebook. The abuse comes in to play when they repeatedly suggest that you become a fan or follower of their blog. Often, the Boorish Blogger is already posting links to their blog in their statuses and updates, so you've already been repeatedly introduced to the blog. If this is the case, there's no need for ANY formal suggestion or request of your fanship, because if you saw anything you liked in their repeated posts, you would've taken the initiative to become a fan or follower already. Remember- social networking is an organic system and process. If they have to ask, it's probably already a lost cause and repeated requests only make them seem intrusive and desperate. With both the Pious Pusher and Boorish Blogger, if you're in regular face-to-face contact with the Abuser, their repeated online requests are in fact putting you in an awkward position and are therefore rude. Sidebar: i once had a job that was very dull, and my boss had the 4-inch thick, enormous "Miss Manners' Guide To Excruciatingly Correct Behavior" which she instructed i read during the slow hours. They were all slow hours, so i got very acquainted with etiquette. Any repeated request after an initial decline is poor etiquette, a repeated request by someone that you become THEIR fan, is especially off-putting.

Did i miss any form of abuse? Comment sections are for explaining, kitties. Use it.

If you or someone you know....or someone you don't know who keeps sending you requests....fit the description of one or more of these abuser profiles, please seek help and direct them to do the same. Take a step back and think about if you really want to force your self or your cause onto others and thereby manipulate a perfectly functional organic system into one of awkward obligation and falsehood. Life is already packed full of obligation, don't make it worse. JUST LET IT BE!

on secret seedlings

Dear, Strange, Reader,

i left you with nary a post for a while (though i was thoughtful enough to leave you in the hands Captain Amazing all that time. You're welcome.) and it's generally been slow going the last, oh, 15 weeks. Because, (see: there IS a reason... besides laziness and lack of inspiration) when you can't say Something, then you're afraid to say Anything. Classic avoidance of bean spillage. If i simply don't speak, i cannot accidentally say what i'm not allowed to say, right?? Children employ this technique regularly. Bloggers too, evidently.

If you're semi-local or Facebook friends with either Mr. Perfect or myself, you know by now that we are currently sprouting a Baby Perfect (so-called in the desperate hopes that It takes after the husband) and are about 3 months into that process. It was a secret for the first 13 weeks because i'm the emotional equivalent of a paranoid shut-in. It might have remained a secret until said sprout was birthed and squirming around in the world if it

weren't for that pesky weight gain and 'showing' thing that fertile women can't hide from. That's just how i roll: secretly. But the handful of The Privileged Informed were getting impatient and wanted to brag to the Less Important Uninformed, so we (meaning 'i') conceded to the pressure to divulge. Mr. Perfect wanted to broadcast from day one, and my dad was particularly antsy to declare; i think it's a male pride thing, primitively speaking, though both are far from the primitive type. (Picture Tom Hanks in Castaway, madly declaring to the empty vastness: "I! HAVE MADE FIRE!!!" Then replace "fire" with "generation" and you get the sense of their eagerness.) We spread the word, kind of awkwardly. Rather, we made a few cryptic revelations and let the word spread itself because i find it very strange to publicize anything personal-health related, much less something that is the direct result of fornication. Anyway, Direct Result is due August 30th, so you'll need to excuse the various muu-muus that are going to have to get me through the ensuing hot summer, which will no doubt be very, very long, since the last 15 weeks have been The Longest Of My Liiiiiiiiiiiife.

So now that the secret is out, the dam is broken and the bloggedry floweth. Hopefully. Don't consider that a promise because i'm going through a 'never say never' phase. Advisory: i have no intention of becoming a 'mommy blogger' because there are plenty of those out there already, and i don't want this blog to become my kid's online equivalent of a baby book, so fear not: o ye haters of the obnoxious and pretentious 'worship my toddler' blogs. i fully intend to continue blathering about Nothing In Particular and the goings-on of 2 mildly entertaining pets, and climbing on the occasional soapbox. (mini-box: i haven't seen The Blind Side but nothing i've seen has demonstrated in any way that Sandra Bullock (an admirable talent) deserved that Oscar over the likes of Helen Mirren or even Gabby Sidibe.) These gems will no doubt be peppered differently now that i am (supposedly) different (or at least in a different Life Phase) and am introducing a new character into my doings, but as the Irish always say, c'est la vie.

Tutto bene,

KM

P. Dinger

You should know by now that i'm kind of obsessed with AMC's original dramatic television series, Mad Men. If you watch it, you know that it is deeply dramatic and that the heart (and heat) of the deep dramaticisms is the character of Don Draper, who is played with seething intensity by Mr. Jon Hamm. If you don't watch Mad Men, this is me sticking my fingers in my ears and yelling 'LALALALALALALALA I CAN'T HEAR YOU YOU'RE NOT TELLING ME THIS I REFUSE LALALALALAAAAAAAAA'. And if you don't watch you probably have no idea who Jon Hamm is, because he was virtually unknown when AMC cast him as Don 'Deep Drama' Draper. You may know him as the classically handsome dude that keeps winning Emmys and Golden Globes for his work on a series that you are not watchingGOODLORDWHYAREN'TYOUWATCHING????????

Okay. i'm calm now. i had some juice and now i'm calm.

So this is mostly for the Hamm fans out there. It's a little outdated, since Mad Men is launching season 4 later this year and this piece takes place on the cusp of season 2 before the viewers learned about THAT ONE THING OMG! and THE THING WITH PEGGY! and HOLY CRAP! WITH THE DUDE! and stuff. It is an interview betwixt Paul Rudd (he of the often crass Judd Apatow comedic films but also the stepbrother in Clueless) and Jon Hamm and it is deeply, dramatically, hilarious. If you only know Jon Hamm as Don Draper, your eyes will be opened and you may have to read the interview twice. The second time you will weep with joy.

Friends, the interview takes place in a mall.

i'm pretty sure nothing substantial gets accomplished besides making the world a little better through funnyness. i think you should read it even if you're never heard of Mad Men (*this is me glaring at you*) or Jon Hamm (*looooong, heavy sigh*) or interviews. HERE IT IS AND YOU'RE VERY WELCOME. Send cookies.

Snippet:

PR: I want to know about Jon Hamm.

JH: Fine. I am an open book.

PR: You are. You're naked.

JH: I kind of thought that's how we were supposed to do these interviews.

PR: When I said, "Jon, I hope you're ready to get naked in this interview," I didn't anticipate that you would actually be physically naked.

JH: Well, it helps me to be emotionally naked if I'm physically naked.

PR: I see.

JH: Thank you, by the way, for also being naked.

Unicorns

(not to be confused with Rainbow Unicorns, the smash hit single by The Pretty Pretty Princesses)

Finally saw Avatar in 3D, and have many thoughts, the foremost is this:

Is the perfect movie too much to ask for? Is it possible? Is it ever-elusive?

Okay, that was three thoughts, but my name's on the url and yours isn't.
Avatar. "Changing the movie industry forever." James Cameron didn't just write and direct this little film, he invented the technology that made it possible, built the camera, spent years making it, etc. He created new species of creatures, had a completely original language written for the natives to speak, and made it all look really, really spiffy.

But.

With alllll that originality and imagination and creativity, there were some significant retreads. Por ejemplo: it could be called "Pocahontas Dances With Wolves and the Last Samurai in Fern Gully" because the story is not original. Also not original? the use of Papyrus. All those millions of dollars and no custom font? Weak. Also? In the story, the baddies are trying to bulldoze the good guys in order to gain access to a very valuable mineral that is otherwise very difficult to obtain. The completely original name for this mineral? "Unobtainium." As my friend Daniel pointed out, why didn't they just call it "Can'tHavesies"? Trust me, the dialog was clunky enough that the mineral could've been called "Wsdvdsoiewfjnig709" and we still would've understood the situation. Also? some of the stockest stock characters seen on a major movie in a long time. You have the trigger-happy cigar-chomping militant who just wants to blast everything to kingdom come, and believes that anyone in a disagreement is an pie-eyed hippie. You also have Mr. Soulless Corporate GreedyPants, who can't see anything but dollar signs and is ignorant enough to call anything non-white a 'heathen' or 'savage' or 'fly bitten'. There are a host of other stock characters, and really, only about 2 characters in the entire cast undergo any arc at all. Everyone else is what we call 'flat', as in, no dimension. Can't really do that on a movie of this size, Mr. Cameron. You gotta have story and dimension.

i enjoyed the movie, it was a visual feast and was fun and thrilling and all that, but it also made me sad, because it could have been SO much better; it could've been perfect. If time and creativity were applied to the story and characters as diligently as it was applied to EVERYTHING else, i would proclaim it Most Worthy of Every Accolade Ever.

Does the perfect movie exist? i realize that one person's 'Anchorman' is another person's 'Gladiator', and there are certainly some excellent films out there. Let's limit our thinking to more epic fare because a film small in scope of time/space/species can be quite close to perfect. Can an Epic Blockbuster also be a Perfect Movie?

(i don't know, that's why i'm asking you.)

On Decency

So you've probably heard about Pat Robertson's asinine declarations about Haiti and the earthquake. If you're unfamiliar, Pat Robertson is a Southern Baptist minister and the host of the Christian tv program, The 700 Club. Here's what he said:

There are many responses, some of which involve throwing the laptop through walls, windows, etc. Fortunately, i'm too tired and so the laptop and marriage remain in tact. Also, author Donald Miller already handled it well enough at his blog. Here is the entire post, here is an excerpt:"You seem angry and tired. Christ loves you. He is not impressed with your religious posturing. He really loves you. You don’t have to hide behind anything anymore. The good news really is that good."
Elsewhere, Jon Stewart reacted to Robertson and the equally tactless Rush Limbaugh, who decided to declare that "[the unspeakable disaster] would play right into Obama's hands" and that Obama's administration could "use [the unspeakable disaster] to burnish their credibility with the black community," both light and dark-skinned. (i wish i were joking, i really do) Jon Stewart, on Comedy Central, threw the book at these two jackasses on their respective Christian and Conservative networks. And by book, i mean The Holy Bible. Observe:

The Daily Show With Jon Stewart	Mon - Thurs 11p / 10c
Haiti Earthquake Reactions
www.thedailyshow.com
Daily Show Full Episodes Political Humor Health Care Crisis

Thanks to Misters Miller and Stewart and the Bible they quote, i have nothing to add beyond the plea to Robertson's and Limbaugh's fans to please reconsider your allegiances.

song 1

Wow, full circle. A year ago today i was sitting on the floor of Pete's room in Mark and Tracey's house going through the painstakingly-made top 15 lists of some of my besties. i highly, highly recommend having a top 15 'party' of your own with your besties. It's enlightening and fun. It's really easy too: you plan a date and tell everyone to come with a cd of their top 15 songs, in order of toppest to 15th-est, then you take turns going through your choices and why you chose them. The only rule is that there's no judgement. 14 Britney Spears songs and 1 Muse song? So be it. You must ascribe to 'to each his/her own' when engaging in the top 15 sharing circle. Anyway, we made copies of our mixes for everyone. It's best to plan the event a month out to allow everyone time to really think about their lists, because for most, it's a challenging task. Although it has nothing to do with new years, ours happened to be on new years and it's a superb memory.

i hadn't planned on stretching out the bloglist of my top 15 for the entire year, but i just happened to realize today was the anniversary and i'm down to my number 1. How keen! Perhaps it's a sign and 2010 will be a keen year..... hmmmm....

Song One.

You know this song, it's programmed into your subconscious if you were born around or after 1979. It was originally written by Paul Williams and Kenny Ascher as a soundtrack song and recorded by Jim Henson's alter ego, Kermit, the frog. (Wiki has good backstory on this song, in case you're curious.) Many, many artists have recorded their own versions, to varying results. Sarah McLachlan has a beautiful version and the Dixie Chicks prominently feature the original's signature banjo in theirs. But these are not my choice.

My choice is Willie.

As i've said before, when i began constructing my top 15 it was helpful to list a few artists i knew were important enough to my musical life to include, and then select a favorite song from said artist. One such artist was Willie Nelson, because my siblings and i were raised on Willie, James Taylor, and the Eagles. And because like everyone else born in the early 80s, i was also raised on/by The Muppets, the natural convergence would be the song of all songs, The Rainbow Connection. Is it a little cliche of a choice? Sappy? Sure. But i'm not just choosing a childhood song, and a 'can't-we-all-just-get-along-while-we-follow-our-dreams?' song at that. i chose Willie's version for it's musicality. (Kermit, bless his goofy heart, is not the world's most melodious singer) Sarah McLachlan's version is very musical, but too ethereal. i prefer Willie's version for it's grounded simplicity and guitarity. (Yup, just made up a really awesome word.)

It's a great song because it's a little melancholy and wistful in that Robert Browning 'ah, but a man's reach should exceed his grasp, or what's a heaven for?' sense. (you know, that sense? the one everyone's always talking about? no? just me? *sigh*) It's also very optimistic and inspirational, which is why, i think, i gravitate toward to the Willie Nelson recording. His voice is at times raw, at times wavery, at times imperfect, and those factors, combined with the earthy and bare guitar keep the 'follow your dreams' message from taking over and making it a very saccharine, very American-Idol-finale type of musical gag-inducer. i love Willie Nelson's voice, some songs much more so than others, so when i knew i wanted a Willie song on my top 15 i searched for one that i felt accurately demonstrated why his voice is one of my most favorites and this was obviously one.

Another one of my methods for deciding which songs would make the top 15 was the method of 'would i want this song played at my funeral and what would it say about me if it were?' i know, totally dramatic and self-absorbed, right? Whatever. This was one that made it through that filter.

Concluding, in sum, finally and at last: please to enjoy my number-1-most song of everness, 'Rainbow Connection', as performed by Willie Nelson.

sum of all fears

Our dearest darling dog, Penny, is a mutt of some sorts, but is mostly pit bull.
In case you've been living under a rock for 10 years, pit bulls are unilaterally feared and hated because they breathe fire and murder virgins and traffic humans across borders to harvest their organs and stuff. They're large, sleek and muscular, so they tend to attract owners who prioritize strength and, subsequently, violence in the same way small, curly-haired and simpering dogs attract little old ladies and girls with large purses. The different appearances and temperments of dog breeds are what make them the #1 household pet of humans; this is why it works. Anyway, pits attract jerks and bottom feeders like Michael Vick and that creepy guy who lives around the corner, and these a-holes rear their dogs in irresponsible, dangerous ways and then the rest of the world goes, 'Bad dogs! Inherently evil! Should be banned from breathing oxygen! Gahhhhh!'
There are bright spots: pit bull rescue organizations like Villalobos and celebrity advocates like Rachel Ray (hey! she's good for something!) and just about every time we take Penny out on local walking trails at least one person will fawn over her and share their own pro-pit testimony. i don't doubt that for every 1 local fan there are 5 people who shoot dagger-eyes as soon as we pass and move their children to the other side of the trail when they see us coming, but phooey on them.
i'm aware that there are bad pits out there and people are allowed to form their opinion on their experiences. My friend was a police officer in the Bay Area for 6 years and she witnessed things that will prevent her from ever being completely comfortable around pit bulls. i will probably never own a German Shepherd because of the time our family pet threatened me. Experiences should form our opinions, though, not fear-mongering or gossip.
A lecture is not why i started this post, but apparently i woke up on the defensive side of the bed.
We have a pit-mutt. We adopted her from a local rescue group who had busted her out of the pound before she could be euthanized; she was in the pound because her owner was a shady character and had been taken to court. She is needy and neurotic but also loyal and silly and affectionate and she's learning to catch treats. Here is a list of things our big, scary, baby-killing dog is absolutely terrified by:

-tape measures, both the hardware kind for measuring walls and the sewing kind for measuring sleeves
-ladders
-cell phones
-cameras
-hairspray
-wrapping paper
-showerheads
-small plastic tubes
-Furminators

Not scared of but maybe should be? Fire. Possums. Mormons. Don't look for the rhyme or reason. She's a strange dog, befitting her environment and owners i suppose. She's available for loan if you need some dog therapy or want to do a pit test run before adopting your own.

what do you DO anywhere?

We went on holiday, as the Britties say. We ditched our biological families and spent Thanksgiving and its companion days cavorting around the great northwest in our little car. First we drove through Oregon in the rainy dark. It was literally dry and nice in California and then the minute we crossed the border it started snowing, because Oregon has a HUGE chip on its shoulder and just has to prove that it's NOT California, thankyouverymuch. So it was rainy and dark for 4 hours and i'm going to say something, but i'm going to preface it with this: Oregon is very pretty. At night? in the rain? MOST BORING DRIVE E V E R. You might argue that any drive in the dark is going to be boring, but i disagree. There's not a whole lot going on in OR along the i-5 corridor. No towns. No lights. No signs to read. BOR. ING. (See the attached image that i took with my fancy camera at the most exciting part of the drive.) So go ahead, Gonies, get your angry comments fingers flexing and bring it on, but the beauty of a blog is that i don't have to account for what i say. (love you)

Anyway, we got to Portland in the dark rain and arrived at Erin's home and proceeded to play with Erin (hi Erin!) for the next few days. With the exception of our drive, the weather was gorgy (which it always is when we're in town (which leads Erin to believe we're witches (which i'm not going to deny because a lady has to maintain her mystique))). We strolled through the park, we shopped, we dined, and we went to Tony Starlight's Supper Club & Lounge and heard Erin's roommate, Tara, and a handful of other talents do Johnny Mercer right. GREAT music, drinks and food with just enough camp to keep the stuffies away. i highly recommend paying Tony and his crooners a visit the next time you're in Portland. After Erin wiped her hands of us we met up with Pete and Bets and enjoyed some boozy milkshakes and Por Que No food. Good times all around.

After we bid adieu to those hipsters, we connected with Katie, Bobby and their unborn burrito, Trixie True Trihub*. It was a short visit, about 16 hours including sleeping, but they're always super fun to see and they have the world's most comfortable couch.

Back on the 5 (which is an interstate) and up into Washington, where there are no billboards. Did you know that? No billboards in the state of Washington. Just trees. Oh, another word about Oregon: several Adult Shops (one with a 24 hour arcade!) along the 5. Kinda pervy, O-gon. Just a little bit. Anyway, Washington. Trees. No rain, but mucho water. i don't think i've ever driven through WA before, i didn't realize how spotty it was. Lots of inlets and bays and ports. i had no clue. (the more you know...dun dun dun duuuuun....cue peacock graphic) We made to tiny Bremerton and to Jason and Winter's lovely old house on the water. What water? i dunno. We're talking about Washington here, could've been any water. Kitties Lola and Buster were like 'Oh my goodness! Kallie is here! We're so excited we're going to pee our kittypants! We love Kallie so much!**' J and Winter took us to see Samudra, the business Winter and Kath opened and for which Josh designed the logo and i served as human resources consultant***. It was super great to finally see the studio and cafe that we've heard so much about for so long. Samudra was beach chic- homey and peaceful and stylish. The foods and drinks were absolutely delish, especially the fun iced tea whose name i've forgotten but starts with an S.

Wednesday night we went to the world's coolest grocery store and shopped and dined in Poulsbo, which is like the Norwegian version of Chinatown (Lefse included. Yay lefse!). i don't remember the name of the restaurant where we et, but if you're looking for a high-style meal and vino at a surprisingly good price, go to Poulsbo and find the restaurant a few doors down from Sluy's (not Slutty's) bakery with the signage in Papyrus font. (Yes, i know. But this is a good reason why we shouldn't judge an establishment based solely on its chosen type treatment) tra la la la....what's next...

Thursday morning, Day of Giving Thanks: up very early (well, early for a vacay day) to go to Samudra and do yoga for the first time ever. We were a bit nervy because we are out of shape, not very bendy, and have never done yoga, but it was a good time! Teacher Kath led a very twisty class- all the twisties squeezed our organs and then unsqueezed them so the blood rushed around and got our digesters ready for the big meal. Then we had Thanksgiving with the Mitchell/Niemeyer/Nicholson clan which included TWO turkeys, a delish ginger/cider/vodka cocktail, and a boatload of madly rad green beans. After the meal was et and the family departed, J and Winter's friend Mike popped in to say hello. Mike has many, many tattoos and is the main dude for a punky little band you may have heard of: MxPx. (Yup. It's like that.) We played Apples to Apples (which is a super game) and had a lovely punk rawk time.

Friday, we and the rest of Kitsap county went to the Christmas tree farm to select J and Winter's tree....which i just realized we forgot to name. (everything needs a name, except cattle, sheep and other creatures you plan on eating. i learned that the hard way, but that is for another blog on another day.) Perhaps the tree should be Trixie True. Write that down, Winter. i discovered that there is a breed of tree called the Shasta Fir (not to be confused with Brendafer) so that was a delightful shoutout to the RDG way up in Washer country. We skillfully attached the tree to the top of the compact car, then proceeded to pile all 5 of us in to the car through the only working door: the driver's. Teehee....lesson learned. Afterward we put up holiday decor at Samudra and ate a bizarre and wonderful dinner of green beans, yam casserole, and fresh Puget Sound crab. i'd never et crab before, and i'm still not sure i like it enough to counteract the squeamy factor of cracking the creature apart. Still, mark that one off my bucket list.

On Saturday i went to the dentist, which is what i do when i'm on holiday. The dentist in question was J, so it was fun, and i got prescription toothpaste. (How many people do you know whose teeth are so bad they need prescription toothpaste? Probably just me. If you know me. If you don't....Hi. Nice to not-exactly meet you.) Later we went to pizza and got drinks at the oh-so-odd Hi-Fidelity Lounge, where Samudra employee Vanessa LePapillon was performing. She was very talented and we enjoyed people-watching a Liev Schrieber lookalike who was trying to stay awake and sober. (Liev: "Cannnn i getnother Comsopotilan?" Bartender: "If you can't pronounce it you can't order it." Haha!)

Sunday we drove back. Boo. Oregon wasn't so bad in the light and we stopped for some Christmas shopping at Bridgeport Village. Whilst in one particular hoitytoit-yet-bohemian-kitsch store whose name certainly does not rhyme with Anthropolgie, a salesperson initiated a conversation with Josh about where we lived. Being relatively familiar with Northern California, she was most curious to know just what sort of profession the two of us professed because, in her words she 'just always wanted to know what people DO in Redding.' (emphasis hers) To reiterate, the 40-something woman selling overpriced mugs in a mall wanted to know what there could possibly be in weirdo, podunk Redding that would allow anyone to eek out a paycheck, so help her God. i was a little steamed. i wanted to punch her in her overpriced face and then run out of the store with one of the $148 cardigans****.

And then we drove home. The end.

*Trixie True is an in-utero baby who is not actually named Trixie True......yet.

**At least, this was how i interpreted the hissing and swiping every time i walked past them or how every time i tried to pet them they ran away and hid.

***This consisted of saying 'yes, i agree that you should fire the cranky barista who reads celebrity gossip on the company computer on company time.' And yes, this image of your banana bowl comes up on page 1 of Google Images for the keyword search 'samudra yoga, bremerton.'

****Clearly, i was conflicted.

song 2

Oh song 2, i love you. i love you more than all the other songs except song 1. i've found that i have an affection for a heavy down beat and chipper lyrics, especially in congress. These lyrics are decidedly optimistic:

"Bad news comes don't you worry even when it lands
Good news will work its way to all them plans
We both got fired on exactly the same day
Well we'll float on good news is on the way

And we'll all float on, ok....
Alright already we'll all float on
Alright don't worry even if things end up a bit too heavy
We'll all float on...alright already we'll all float on"

Tell me all about it, Wikipedia!
-The song came out in 2004 on the album "Good News for People Who Love Bad News." Asked about the song in an interview with The A.V. Club, Isaac Brock said that he consciously intended to write something that felt more positive than some of his previous work:

“	It was a completely conscious thing. I was just kind of fed up with how bad s**t had been going, and how dark everything was, with bad news coming from everywhere....Then you've got the well-intentioned scientists telling us that everything is f****d. I just want to feel good for a day."	”
—Isaac Brock, The A.V. Club

i love that there are two distinct halves to the song: the stiff, staccato, marching verses and the looping, hand-in-the-breeze-out-the-window-of-the-car, 'floating' (if you will) of the chorus. i love the way it's steps away and then jumps back in around the 2:30 mark. It's a great song to drive to because it's easy to play on the steering wheel. There was a really wonderful alternative rock radio station when we lived in Elk Barf and it would play this song semi-regularly.... just rarely enough that it was still special when it came on. Whenever i heard it then, and now (which is never rarely b/c it's always on a cd since there is a nary a station in the greater Shasta County area that would ever deign to play something alternative, cool, or indie) it instantly improves my mood 96%, which means if i'm already in a good mood, i immediately feel 96% gooder. The following is not the official music video, (i'm not allowed to embed that) it's a fan slideshow, but i knew i had to embed the song in order for you to listen to it, which you MUST, even if you already know the song. You need to listen to it now, in the context of MEEEEEEEEE and things i LIIIIIIIKE.

ya know?

Since i seem to be obsessed with common language barf-ups and idiosyncracies, this video - sent to me by my good pal Jamileh - was right up my alley. And since it was all typographyish and designy, i was able to get Josh to watch it with me.

Typography from Ronnie Bruce on Vimeo.

Bye Bye Birdie

A rite of passage 4 years in the making occurred in our little family yesterday. Cosmo, who is a member of the species felis silvestris catus, finally FINALLY F I N A L L Y did a felis silvestris catus-like thing and deposited a small dead creature on our doorstep. (it was a bird) Here's the thing: Cosmo is a mean, ornery, domineering animal. He is short on affection and long on demands. He abandoned such trivial practices as 'play' years ago and his relationship with us now consists mostly of:
-'FEED ME, SIMPLETONS.'
-'FEED ME MORE.'
-'NO. YOU WILL NOT WRAP A PRESENT OR CUT A SEWING PATTERN ON THIS PARTICULAR PART OF THE FLOOR- I DECIDED I WANT TO LAY HERE. WAIT FOR ME TO FINISH.'
-'LET ME IN, KNUCKLEDRAGGERS.'
-'LET ME OUT, DAMN YOU.'
-'LET ME BACK IN AND FEED ME MORE FOOD.'
-'EXCUSE YOUR FACE, I'M TRYING TO GET TO THE WINDOW. I DON'T CARE IF YOU'RE SLEEPING.'
-'MOVE YOUR BOWL DOWN SO I CAN BIFF AT YOUR CHEERIOS WITH MY PAW. NOW.'
-'LET ME OUT. YOU AND THE WHITE CREATURE BORE ME.'
-'TAKE YOUR HAND OFF MY FUR, YOU'LL MAKE IT DIRTY.'
-'I HATE YOUR ANKLES, HOLD STILL WHILE I MAKE THEM BLEED AS PUNISHMENT FOR EXISTING.'
-'DON'T BOTHER ME, I'M SHARING A SPECIAL MOMENT WITH THIS BLANKET AND THIS BLANKET LIKES ME JUST THE WAY I AM.'
(imagine all of that said in a voice similar to a Stewie Griffin's, only more bored, and maybe with a touch of Willem Defoe)

In light of this less than loving situation, for him to leave us a present (even one as misunderstood as a dead, possibly diseased thing) is nearly stunning in its implications. HE LOVES US, he just has a hard time saying it for fear of rejection. We were very moved; so much so that we mounted the dead bird to a board and hung it on the mantle with the date and some of Cosmo's paw prints as a signature.

Well, there's always the possibility that he truly hates us and deposited the bird on the doorstep much like the ol' horse head in the mattress message. That's probably more likely. It's surely more of a 'You're next, bitches' message than a 'Thank you for rescuing me from the jaws of euthanization and always giving me food and shelter and medical care and staying up late to make sure i come home in one piece instead of making me spend the night outside with the fugly possums and sketchy alley cats.' Of course, there's no way of proving that he didn't:
-Find a the bird already dead and drag it around out of boredom until he found something more interesting to be creepy with.
-Steal the prized kill from the neighbor's cat (i call him Catsumoto because he looks like a samurai. What? it's funny!) with whom he has a 2.5 year staring contest rivalry, and claim it as his own.
-Systematically lace the earth with arsenic and other chemicals, causing local insects to absorb it and build up a tolerance and thus poison and kill the bird that ate the insects. (Do not put it past him. The minute you declare anything as 'beyond him' is the minute he decides that is how he will destroy you.)
-Kill the bird as a representation of his tough catliness to send a message to all the neighborhood kitties (there are plenty). Our yard may look like a litter box, but it's his litter box and his only. Know about it.

i suppose the case of the toe-up doorstep bird will remain a mystery until our giant angry beast of anger is caught in the act of being something less than diabolical and more like a pet.

return of the texts

Another round of going through my phone and finding funny texts, usually without contexts and always accurately transcribed. 

This female will steal my soul through my pizzle!

me want beer. 

As long as you smell like Anthro.

We might have to bake two so we can eat one. Maybe we can turn Pete's twin cake into a hoarcrux. 

Is he butch or the kid?

Projectile vomitting: not as funny or as fun as the movies make it out to be. 

I'm listening to the funniest slut ever talking out loud on her cell in starbucks!

Wayne just brought us a still twitching gopher.

Supposably she is a college gratuate!

It makes me happy to know that people in the business world read that book. Like somehow it will be ok somehow...

Today is the day you emerged from your mother's va-jay-jay. Way to go!

For your birthday present i was wondering if i might be able to borrow your vacuum?

Georgia Nicholson is the Mighty B in six years. 

Babysitting when you're drunk is really hard. 

We'll let you know if we find crab people in the caves.

By the way, would u like a small used dog?

Steve just asked "didn't we just sing this last week?"

My riblets hurt.

Look at you go with your golf references!

Not if I poke holes in your condoms!!

That "so you like throwing up" brochure was kinda sad and awesome.

And to the republic of awesomeness on which she stands!

Oh gawd save me from the crazy in laws. My mouth is numb from fake smiling and my throat is sore from yelling into hearing aids.

They put stalls in the restroom so now 3 girls can pee in different toilet!

You'll be happy to know Stella just pooped on your neighbor's fence

There is/are an unnatural number of crows gathering in my apple orchard right now. I'm uncomfortable.

I'm still happy today that Rashida jones reminds you of me. Am i vapid and vain because of that?

But if anyone asks I'm gonna say it's real, obvi.

The Flatulance Gods must be getting back at me with your dog

I've had two martinis and a PBR in two hours. DRUIUUUUUNK!

That was for all the people that want me to get pregnant.

Mental connection make: Shakira sounds like the Target lady from SNL

Less than a minute ago I said, "I love toast."

Watching Toddlers and Tieras. What is WRONG with these people?!

Whatevs. Have fun eating NOTHING!

My life's quality is measured by whether or not i remember deodorant.

And isn't this a little more serious than  a TEXT?!

The prophets have spoken!

I meant OMG sarcastically not for reals, just to clarify.

That song that paula abdule sings w/the dancing animated cheetah is on the radio. Seriously?! Talk about a hostile wrk place.

Out on your crazy pants!

we just call it "driving"

When you guys are here we're forcing you to go help us pick out and cut down an Xmas tree! And drink cider and wear scarves! And LIKE IT!!!

How was jury duty? Did you wear your princess leia costume and tell them you were telepathic?

I'm headed into a recording studio to add my voice to some na na nas on the new mxpx Xmas song. Weird.

When you come visit we can have sing alongs!!!

Right. Your little black and white one with bulgy eyes.

We have a customer who introduces herself as "raven rain....also Cathy."

She's super random and kind of dorky like us- so if you can say something about pee or poo she'll bee your bff.

Ya but they're prob fat

That'd be a killer cupcake if it was all one!

Haha! shut up, you're super cute, even if you look kinda bi

How come in the prehistoric days all the animals were giant, but the humans were not?

I'm on a fantastic combo of midol and dayquil right now. Super lucky. 

I can totally wait. I just got flipped off by a homeless man.

You and I are finally going to have our FNL marathon. Jervis be praised.

I meant JEEBUS be praised.

But jervais can take some credit too, I guess...

only suitable for adults

My dear comrade, and first of thousands of roommates, Ashley (of the Northern California Ashleys) is also a blogger. And whence directed to her blog by its author (meaning her), i was greatly amused to find, before i could observe the blog, a warning from the good people at Google and Blogger. "The blog that you are about to view may contain content only suitable for adults," it declared. "In general, Google does not review nor do we endorse the content of this or any blog." i laughed. Of course Ashley's blog would come with a warning! i half-expected to also hear a husky-voiced man tell me intensely, "The blog you are about to view is rated BL MALVSC. It is intended for mature audiences only." (is it sad that i have that tv rating boiler plate language memorized? yes, a little. But i do watch a great deal of Rescue Me.) Having accepted the warning and perused the blog, i can't really figure out why it's only suitable for adults. i see very little of Ashley's usual colorful jargon, no mention of that one very adult word she taught me in 11th grade, and no dirty pictures. A simple 'holy $#i!' seems to be the extent of the adultry (a word i just made up, not to be confused with adultery), and i learned that word in 2nd grade (i ran out with a rough crowd).

Anyway, Ashley runs. i only run when i'm being chased, and even then i'm more inclined to either-

A. Curl up in a ball and hope to be killed/devoured quickly and mercifully, or

B. Do what no fictional chasee ever thinks to do, which is run like hell for a short distance, then hide like hell and wait for the chasers to run by before you double back and stroll, whistling, to safety. Seriously. i spend most of the Bourne movies (which i do love, btw. Call me, Damon.) thinking, 'if he just tucked himself away in a good spot he could easily evade the baddies.' Then i think, 'i would be happy to tuck away with him' but then we're veering all to closely into the aforementioned adultery.

Like music/food/literature/jesus, everyone has different tastes in exercise. i prefer to go to a gym and take a kickboxing class with 20 strangers and a psychotically peppy instructer. Ashley prefers to run long distances in public. That's her prerogative, which i happen to think is bananas. Sometimes she even PAYS for the privilege to get up at ungodly hours and run long distances in strange cities. She is perfectly welcome to do that, i happen to think she's Mentally Askew. In case i haven't made myself clear, i honor Ashley's choices, ridiculous and bass-akwards as they are. (here's where i admit that my 2nd favorite part of that cinematic gem, Talladega Nights, is Ricky Bobby saying 'with all due respect' and then saying something completely, baldly, disrespectful.)

Clearly, i am incapable of making a blog post about Ashley into anything other than a post about myself.

Ashley also teaches high school English. You can decide which is a more alarming and punishing habit to willingly undertake. She runs because she teaches, kind of like 'daddy drinks because you cry.' (i don't know where i saw/heard that but i can't even think of it without laughing out loud.) You could say, she blogs because she runs because she teaches. To be obnoxious to anyone masochistic enough to still be reading this post, i read because she blogs because she runs because she teaches. In the house that Jack built to catch the spider to catch the fly, alpha and omega, amen.

Her blog is about running and teaching and the highs and lows of both. Also, she's one of the most disciplined people i know, and has been since even before she taught me that one particular very bad word in 11th grade. She's also kind of a riot, so even if you are smart or chicken enough to not have gone into teaching, or if you're self-respecting enough to not do absurd things like Run Voluntarily, i do believe you'll enjoy yourself whilst reading her blog. Here it is. It's also in the list of 'Comrades' to the right. No, your other right.

an apology

In light of the ten year reunion, i made a preunion party playlist my pals and i could enjoy. i made the list out of the Billboard charts from the year of our graduation, 1999 and a little from 1998.

i spent the next week humiliated and apologetic.

i had forgotten or had never realized how excrutiatingly awful that time was in the world of music. This is me saying "I'M REALLY SORRY, WORLD, FOR THE MUSIC MY GENERATION INFLICTED UPON YOU." We punished you with the following diseases of sound:

Ricky Martin's 'Livin' La Vida Loca'
Sugar Ray's 'Every Morning'
Cher's 'Believe'
Smash Mouth's 'All Star'
Celine Dion's 'My Heart Will Go On'
LFO's 'Summer Girls'
Will Smith's 'Miami'
and of course...'Hit Me Baby One More Time' by Britney Spears.

Here's the thing about 1999: it was pre-myspace, pre-iTunes and, in a way, pre-internet. Very few of my friends even had email addresses, much less the savvy or resources to find any sort of music that wasn't in heavy rotation on the radio or on MTV...which was beginning its downward slide into 'TV not having anything to do with M'. And i don't think i need to explain how asinine the radio stations around here were. And are. "Indie band" wasn't in our vocabulary, and since we lived in Redding and not a bigger or more cultural town like LA, Sacramento or even Chico, there were no shows to attend. So, there were a few GOOD albums released in the waning years of the 90s, albums like Beck's 'Midnite Vultures', Jeff Buckley's 'Grace', and Sigur Ros's 'Ágætis byrjun', but we didn't hear them.
At the mainstream level, the late 90s were about the end of grunge and rock and the beginning of bubblegum pop, the boy band, and of course, the country cross-over (thanks a million, Shaniah Twain, still haven't forgiven you). There were a few gems that made their way to the masses, Lauryn's Hill's 'Miseducation' album had several great singles, the Chili Peppers put out 'Californication' and Tom Petty made 'Wildflowers', but overall it was a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad time. We're sorry. If i give you Dave Grohl will you forgive? Here's one of the un-bad things to come out of 1999, the Foo Fighters with 'Learn to Fly', with a little Tenacious D thrown in for giggles.

Foo Fighters - Learn To Fly

Marco|MySpace Videos

screw 'em

i was born in 1981, so i was not alive for the 1980 Miracle on Ice at the Lake Placid Olympics. i saw the movie whilst on my honeymoon in Lake Tahoe and loved it; i'm a huge sucker for a sports movie, i think most people are. Kurt Russel's performance was fantastic. Here he is, as coach Herb Brooks, giving the speech before the game that made history:

Goosebumps! love the accent and clipped speech pattern and i watch it thinking, 'oooh i hope they wind their hockey game!' that's how easy it is for me to get caught up.

Anyway, this funny little kid grew up hearing about the Miracle on Ice from his dad and memorized the speech from the movie. It cracks me up! like, screw sponge bob! i wanna wear a tie a look like a hockey coach from 1980! He's only 4 in the video, so i'm pretty sure he's not even reading the paper in his hand. Check it out:

Good stuff! Here's the Yahoo story if you want more.