I found a good burrito in Manhattan.
I have rescued my sheets, which were ironed and compressed into a package smaller than anything you can imagine.
Things feel lighter after the weekend.
Catharsis rules.
My air conditioner is on and I can't feel or hear NYC.
And so I will go to bed.
At 9:52 pm.
Fuck yeah.
Monday, July 11, 2005
Science and Comics
I love that comic books and science have been so intertwined historically. It is to be expected that superpowers result from something scientific - mutations in DNA, cosmic phenomena, insect bites etc. In addition, many characters in comic books are scientists. It is not uncharacteristic to see people in lab coats in comics.
We have been lucky enough to be given a ton of movies adapted from comic books in recent years. I've seen a lot of them. Not all, but enough to be peeved about the following:
Is it so freaking difficult to get a scientific consultant for these movies?
Seriously.
I'm not even talking about content. I'm talking about the infuriating way in which people articulate science-isms onscreen.
The content is annoying too, but really. Can't there be a scientist on the set to help actors learn to how to ACT LIKE A SCIENTIST?!?
I would do it for FREE. I imagine any scientist would! I'd wear a lab coat and safety glasses and gloves. This being said, I'm certain that these multimilliondollarscosting blockbusters might have a couple bucks to spare for me to spend a day on the set to help people be comfortable with science words.
I am up in arms because of Fantastic Four (which, incidentally, was only mostly terrible).
D and I snickered when Reed said "recombinant DNA" and when he made a machine that generated the exact opposite random mutation (s) that caused the Fantastic Four to have crazy powers, so that they could, again, be normal.
Right.
And who can forget Blade 3? Far worse.
The only science-related movie I have been super pleased with and even excited about was The Hulk. I didn't love the movie, but I loved the labs! They were super accurate. They even had Qiagen kits!!! I felt like I was the only one who was aware of the best cameo appearance in a film that has ever hit the screen! And, even better, someone in the movie had to excuse themselves because their timer went off! YES!!!! The only bad thing was that nobody really seemed to care when their labs and life's work were destroyed.
So yes. I will help for free. Seriously. I will do research and show actors how to convincingly hold a pipet and how not to stumble over the word "genome."
In related ranting, I am extremely jealous of Jessica Alba's hair.
That is all.
We have been lucky enough to be given a ton of movies adapted from comic books in recent years. I've seen a lot of them. Not all, but enough to be peeved about the following:
Is it so freaking difficult to get a scientific consultant for these movies?
Seriously.
I'm not even talking about content. I'm talking about the infuriating way in which people articulate science-isms onscreen.
The content is annoying too, but really. Can't there be a scientist on the set to help actors learn to how to ACT LIKE A SCIENTIST?!?
I would do it for FREE. I imagine any scientist would! I'd wear a lab coat and safety glasses and gloves. This being said, I'm certain that these multimilliondollarscosting blockbusters might have a couple bucks to spare for me to spend a day on the set to help people be comfortable with science words.
I am up in arms because of Fantastic Four (which, incidentally, was only mostly terrible).
D and I snickered when Reed said "recombinant DNA" and when he made a machine that generated the exact opposite random mutation (s) that caused the Fantastic Four to have crazy powers, so that they could, again, be normal.
Right.
And who can forget Blade 3? Far worse.
The only science-related movie I have been super pleased with and even excited about was The Hulk. I didn't love the movie, but I loved the labs! They were super accurate. They even had Qiagen kits!!! I felt like I was the only one who was aware of the best cameo appearance in a film that has ever hit the screen! And, even better, someone in the movie had to excuse themselves because their timer went off! YES!!!! The only bad thing was that nobody really seemed to care when their labs and life's work were destroyed.
So yes. I will help for free. Seriously. I will do research and show actors how to convincingly hold a pipet and how not to stumble over the word "genome."
In related ranting, I am extremely jealous of Jessica Alba's hair.
That is all.
Sunday, July 10, 2005
I Pity The Dolls
Yes, folks, that is the name of the show I went to see yesterday afternoon at the Orchard Street Art Gallery.
Jealousy replaced by the knowledge of the absurdity of my feelings and sympathy for those involved, armed with my new microscopic camera that Father got for a sweet deal, I journeyed downtown to check out the all Mr.-T-doll exhibit.
Bizarre and complete awesomenocity.
They showed "Be Somebody Or Be Somebody's Fool" on repeat.
Here is my Favorite Mr. T:
Me and Favorite Mr. T:
My Second Favorite Mr. T:
The guy in the white t-shirt is the guy who collected all the Mr. T's, and he is our hero:
And, course, Yoda T:
Jealousy replaced by the knowledge of the absurdity of my feelings and sympathy for those involved, armed with my new microscopic camera that Father got for a sweet deal, I journeyed downtown to check out the all Mr.-T-doll exhibit.
Bizarre and complete awesomenocity.
They showed "Be Somebody Or Be Somebody's Fool" on repeat.
Here is my Favorite Mr. T:
Me and Favorite Mr. T:
My Second Favorite Mr. T:
The guy in the white t-shirt is the guy who collected all the Mr. T's, and he is our hero:
And, course, Yoda T:
Saturday, July 09, 2005
Damn You, Fitted Sheet!
The fitted sheet is even more challenging after you've been drinking lots.
I never thought the fitted sheet could be *more* of a pain in the ass.
Although I am coming to the realization that something is weird about my bed. No full sized sheets fit. I momentarily thought "Shit! Maybe my bed is queen sized!" but then the sheets really wouldn't fit at all. Right? And the bed itself probably wouldn't have fit in any of my apartments.
I had a minor laundry issue today - it was pouring on my way to drop of my sheets/towels at laundromat-of-choice. Consequently, the bag and its contents were soaked by the time I arrived. When I got there, I said to the woman behind the counter "How are you doing today?" She eyed me suspiciously and said "Fine, Leee-ah" and then smiled as though she had something to hide. "Oh, good," I said awkwardly. It looked as though she had something to say, so I said "Is everything ok?" She went on to explain that the laundromat will be closed for the next week for renovations.
"Oh," I said, standing confused with my heavy bag of wet laundry. "Huh." I had three options:
1. Bring the wet bag of laundry home and be late to work.
2. Bring the wet bag of laundry all the way to work and either
a) drop it off to be cleaned during the day or
b) bring it back home after letting it sit around wet all day or
3. Leave it at the laundromat and NOT have to carry it anywhere while it was heavy and wet.
I opted for 3, because I didn't feel like walking around in the rain anymore with a bag of soaked sheets and towels weighing me down.
I mention this because I picked up the sheets tonight and decided to drop them off at a laundromat on 39th street that turns out to be CHEAPER! And they're high tech and have everything in a computer system! Yes, it is out of my way, but it seems like a better option. I'll see how small a wad they fold the sheets into and will make my decision on whether or not to convert to the more upscale operation.
I just got back from a drama-filled night at Bench Buddy's - actually, first night of drama in NYC to date - complete with fighting on the street and tears shed at the party by yours truly! Also, I accidentally knocked a bottle of beer off of his 5th story roof onto the street. It wasn't mine. I didn't even know it was next to me. That could have been a bad scene. Nevertheless.... I am exhausted and drunk and got home and realized that there are no sheets on my bed. I had to choose between flannel or the yellow-t-shirt-guest-sheets for the bed for tonight, and for the love of GOD the yellow sheets don't fit the bed!!! It's not a particularly thick mattress. Maybe I have just randomly and coincidentally only bought lame/ill-fitting sheets. I don't know. But seriously. It should not be this difficult to make a bed. The sheet is on the corners but not on either of the long sides of the bed.
Oh well. It's only for one night.
I really want to sleep, but I have to wait.
I never thought the fitted sheet could be *more* of a pain in the ass.
Although I am coming to the realization that something is weird about my bed. No full sized sheets fit. I momentarily thought "Shit! Maybe my bed is queen sized!" but then the sheets really wouldn't fit at all. Right? And the bed itself probably wouldn't have fit in any of my apartments.
I had a minor laundry issue today - it was pouring on my way to drop of my sheets/towels at laundromat-of-choice. Consequently, the bag and its contents were soaked by the time I arrived. When I got there, I said to the woman behind the counter "How are you doing today?" She eyed me suspiciously and said "Fine, Leee-ah" and then smiled as though she had something to hide. "Oh, good," I said awkwardly. It looked as though she had something to say, so I said "Is everything ok?" She went on to explain that the laundromat will be closed for the next week for renovations.
"Oh," I said, standing confused with my heavy bag of wet laundry. "Huh." I had three options:
1. Bring the wet bag of laundry home and be late to work.
2. Bring the wet bag of laundry all the way to work and either
a) drop it off to be cleaned during the day or
b) bring it back home after letting it sit around wet all day or
3. Leave it at the laundromat and NOT have to carry it anywhere while it was heavy and wet.
I opted for 3, because I didn't feel like walking around in the rain anymore with a bag of soaked sheets and towels weighing me down.
I mention this because I picked up the sheets tonight and decided to drop them off at a laundromat on 39th street that turns out to be CHEAPER! And they're high tech and have everything in a computer system! Yes, it is out of my way, but it seems like a better option. I'll see how small a wad they fold the sheets into and will make my decision on whether or not to convert to the more upscale operation.
I just got back from a drama-filled night at Bench Buddy's - actually, first night of drama in NYC to date - complete with fighting on the street and tears shed at the party by yours truly! Also, I accidentally knocked a bottle of beer off of his 5th story roof onto the street. It wasn't mine. I didn't even know it was next to me. That could have been a bad scene. Nevertheless.... I am exhausted and drunk and got home and realized that there are no sheets on my bed. I had to choose between flannel or the yellow-t-shirt-guest-sheets for the bed for tonight, and for the love of GOD the yellow sheets don't fit the bed!!! It's not a particularly thick mattress. Maybe I have just randomly and coincidentally only bought lame/ill-fitting sheets. I don't know. But seriously. It should not be this difficult to make a bed. The sheet is on the corners but not on either of the long sides of the bed.
Oh well. It's only for one night.
I really want to sleep, but I have to wait.
Thursday, July 07, 2005
Jealous
I hate that jealousy keeps me up at night.
Do insomniacs resent everyone who can sleep?
Or do you get used to things?
I forgot my address today. That's how tired I am. But I am not tired enough to fall asleep while jealous of other girls and while jealous of people who can sleep while other girls are causing all sorts of irrational angst.
If there wasn't someone sleeping obliviously in my apartment right now I would write a song about this.
OK.
It is now time for random reading of other people's blogger blogs.
I'll let you know if I find anything good.
Do insomniacs resent everyone who can sleep?
Or do you get used to things?
I forgot my address today. That's how tired I am. But I am not tired enough to fall asleep while jealous of other girls and while jealous of people who can sleep while other girls are causing all sorts of irrational angst.
If there wasn't someone sleeping obliviously in my apartment right now I would write a song about this.
OK.
It is now time for random reading of other people's blogger blogs.
I'll let you know if I find anything good.
I Know What You're Thinking
You're thinking "Leah Lar hasn't written anything about Snoop Dogg in ages! What's wrong? Is everything ok?"
So here you go.
And for more from Live 8, click here.
Bench Buddy and I were just discussing who got the most screwed, and I'm voting for Germany. Yes, they got Ah-Ha (yes, folks, watch Ah-Ha butcher their song and be amazed how 20 years have apparently not elapsed for the lead singer!) but they also had to listen to Chris DeBurgh, who you might remember from such mega hits as Lady In Red.
Wtf?
Bench Buddy thinks the U.S. got screwed, but I disagree. Def Lepard! Kaiser Chiefs! Stevie Wonder! Will Smith doing the theme song from Fresh Prince of Bel Air! And Maroon 5. And Rob Thomas. And freaking Black Eyed Peas. Right. I am changing my vote. We really did get screwed.
So here you go.
And for more from Live 8, click here.
Bench Buddy and I were just discussing who got the most screwed, and I'm voting for Germany. Yes, they got Ah-Ha (yes, folks, watch Ah-Ha butcher their song and be amazed how 20 years have apparently not elapsed for the lead singer!) but they also had to listen to Chris DeBurgh, who you might remember from such mega hits as Lady In Red.
Wtf?
Bench Buddy thinks the U.S. got screwed, but I disagree. Def Lepard! Kaiser Chiefs! Stevie Wonder! Will Smith doing the theme song from Fresh Prince of Bel Air! And Maroon 5. And Rob Thomas. And freaking Black Eyed Peas. Right. I am changing my vote. We really did get screwed.
Wednesday, July 06, 2005
2012
London got the Olympics.
Paris must be pissed.
Just now I listened live and for a moment thought "Come on... come on New York..." even though I think having the Olympics here would be the worst thing ever. Well, it would be the worst thing ever if I am still here in 2012, which will most likely not be the case.
Oh well.
I am up early because I spent the entire night tossing and turning and wondering if I am too insecure to effectively date someone with a harem. I also kept thinking "I have no desire to go back to work" and then "Work is going to be so stressful"" and "Oh man, its going to be stressful science-wise and on top of that I have to see D at work tomorrow and have to hold it together" and "Dear god it is LOUD HERE and I can't sleep." Even ear plugs couldn't block the sounds of midtown traffic. It was also hot.
Blah.
Now its raining and I have to drop off laundry and mail rent and in better news deposit the $4020 that greeted me yesterday upon my return to NYC!
I am delirious. And insecure. And homesick. And confused. And exhausted. And don't have a headache anymore because I took three Excedrin Migraines yesterday so am nauseous instead.
It's great to be back.
Awshummmm.
Paris must be pissed.
Just now I listened live and for a moment thought "Come on... come on New York..." even though I think having the Olympics here would be the worst thing ever. Well, it would be the worst thing ever if I am still here in 2012, which will most likely not be the case.
Oh well.
I am up early because I spent the entire night tossing and turning and wondering if I am too insecure to effectively date someone with a harem. I also kept thinking "I have no desire to go back to work" and then "Work is going to be so stressful"" and "Oh man, its going to be stressful science-wise and on top of that I have to see D at work tomorrow and have to hold it together" and "Dear god it is LOUD HERE and I can't sleep." Even ear plugs couldn't block the sounds of midtown traffic. It was also hot.
Blah.
Now its raining and I have to drop off laundry and mail rent and in better news deposit the $4020 that greeted me yesterday upon my return to NYC!
I am delirious. And insecure. And homesick. And confused. And exhausted. And don't have a headache anymore because I took three Excedrin Migraines yesterday so am nauseous instead.
It's great to be back.
Awshummmm.
Tuesday, July 05, 2005
In Desperate Need of Vacation from Vacation
Hey kids,
I'm back and just realized I forgot to pay my July rent.
That is so unlike me.
I realized, being back in Boston this past week, that I am generally unlike me in the present. Being in Boston made me realize that I am not myself.
New self? Different self? Better self? I am afraid it is, instead, wrong self.
I am very scattered these days. Prior to my leaving, work was frantic and I was experiencing feelings of dumbness and inability and stress. I had visitors for a week solid prior to leaving, which explains my failure to pay rent or really engage in any sort of normal activity that requires being at home, such as the paying of rent.
My "vacation" ended up causing me more stress.
I was thrilled to see so many people, catch up with old friends, and to remember the old self and miss it. I am stressed, though, because it seems that D is not enamored with Boston and this poses a challenge. I have been back in NYC for about two hours and already am fed up with the loudness of the traffic and my lack of expertise.
I mastered Boston and apparently that's something I value.
I am feeling a lot of things right now and I don't understand any of them.
I thought that I'd experienced and felt everything there was to feel, but I was wrong.
Anyway, because I am stressed and flustered and confused and, gasp, homesick, I will leave you with a vague synopsis of my vacation. Hopefully I'll have time to tell some stories, but with work being such as it is and with life being still frantic and with Argentina less than two weeks away, I will most likely not have time for anything.
Left on Tuesday - no traffic! Spent the night on Sister's futon after watching Curb Your Enthusiasm and drinking wine coolers.
Ate lunch with former coworkers on Wednesday after touring former coworkers' new facility. I left nearly in tears. I miss them. I miss the way I am with them. I miss having people take an interest in me and taking an interest in other people. I miss smiles in the workplace and quirkiness. I was gratified after shocking the subject of a My Mundane Life In Song song to the point where he fell off his chair when I said "Hi!" with atypical confidence. Hah. I love how time actually does heal wounds.
Had Indian food on Wednesday night with A and J after D and I hit the hot tub in the Hyatt. Met up with friends at Orleans afterwards and was surprised that people had come out to see me and not to get a look at D. Again, I forgot what it feels like to be noticed, to be considered, to be something more than an appendage. After Orleans went back to Hall Street and, again, nearly left in tears because love feels so nice.
D said "All of your friends love you so much," and I thought "We settle for so much less in New York."
Had lunch with Brother and Aunt J on Thursday afternoon in the North End and then took a trolley around the city to convince D that Boston rules! I'd never done this before and learned a lot. D, however, was not convinced.
On Thursday night Brother, D and I met up with LBF and her posse at the Courtside and I remembered how much I love locals, and how much less intimidating and therefore more fun karaoke is in Boston. We then went to see Sister's band play in PA's Lounge in Somerville. We only got minorly lost.
On Friday afternoon I went for lunch at Emma's with former former coworkers and nearly left in tears because I'd forgotten what community feels like.
We then saw an exhibit on emotion at the ICA and then headed up to NH. The moment my parents arrived to pick us up I was stressed, and this stress continued throughout the weekend.
Every decision requires four hours of discussion.
Every option is a catastrophe.
Every word has the potential to cause an explosion.
Did I mention I forgot to pay my rent?!? WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME? I hope I don't get evicted.
We spent time at the sandbar (got a raging sunburn), had a cookout, went to Funspot and were joined by LBF - woo hoo!, went to Meredith and Weirs Beach, had dinner at D's friend's house, saw War of the Worlds and Mr. and Mrs. Smith at the drive in, listened to Mother gush about how happy she is that there are now 8 of us instead of 5 as though rings have been exchanged and sometimes I am more worried about her heart breaking than my own.
Spent the 4th of July drinking Ice Bowls at Fire and Ice in Harvard Square and then watching American Psycho at Sister's instead of watching fireworks. This could be the start of a wonderful tradition.
Now I am back and am experiencing no relief/happiness about it. I don't know why.
Do I miss things?
I think I miss me.
I think I have no idea what I think.
Well, its at least good to be back on My Mundane Life in Song.
Here are some photos from my vacation! Enjoy.
I'm back and just realized I forgot to pay my July rent.
That is so unlike me.
I realized, being back in Boston this past week, that I am generally unlike me in the present. Being in Boston made me realize that I am not myself.
New self? Different self? Better self? I am afraid it is, instead, wrong self.
I am very scattered these days. Prior to my leaving, work was frantic and I was experiencing feelings of dumbness and inability and stress. I had visitors for a week solid prior to leaving, which explains my failure to pay rent or really engage in any sort of normal activity that requires being at home, such as the paying of rent.
My "vacation" ended up causing me more stress.
I was thrilled to see so many people, catch up with old friends, and to remember the old self and miss it. I am stressed, though, because it seems that D is not enamored with Boston and this poses a challenge. I have been back in NYC for about two hours and already am fed up with the loudness of the traffic and my lack of expertise.
I mastered Boston and apparently that's something I value.
I am feeling a lot of things right now and I don't understand any of them.
I thought that I'd experienced and felt everything there was to feel, but I was wrong.
Anyway, because I am stressed and flustered and confused and, gasp, homesick, I will leave you with a vague synopsis of my vacation. Hopefully I'll have time to tell some stories, but with work being such as it is and with life being still frantic and with Argentina less than two weeks away, I will most likely not have time for anything.
Left on Tuesday - no traffic! Spent the night on Sister's futon after watching Curb Your Enthusiasm and drinking wine coolers.
Ate lunch with former coworkers on Wednesday after touring former coworkers' new facility. I left nearly in tears. I miss them. I miss the way I am with them. I miss having people take an interest in me and taking an interest in other people. I miss smiles in the workplace and quirkiness. I was gratified after shocking the subject of a My Mundane Life In Song song to the point where he fell off his chair when I said "Hi!" with atypical confidence. Hah. I love how time actually does heal wounds.
Had Indian food on Wednesday night with A and J after D and I hit the hot tub in the Hyatt. Met up with friends at Orleans afterwards and was surprised that people had come out to see me and not to get a look at D. Again, I forgot what it feels like to be noticed, to be considered, to be something more than an appendage. After Orleans went back to Hall Street and, again, nearly left in tears because love feels so nice.
D said "All of your friends love you so much," and I thought "We settle for so much less in New York."
Had lunch with Brother and Aunt J on Thursday afternoon in the North End and then took a trolley around the city to convince D that Boston rules! I'd never done this before and learned a lot. D, however, was not convinced.
On Thursday night Brother, D and I met up with LBF and her posse at the Courtside and I remembered how much I love locals, and how much less intimidating and therefore more fun karaoke is in Boston. We then went to see Sister's band play in PA's Lounge in Somerville. We only got minorly lost.
On Friday afternoon I went for lunch at Emma's with former former coworkers and nearly left in tears because I'd forgotten what community feels like.
We then saw an exhibit on emotion at the ICA and then headed up to NH. The moment my parents arrived to pick us up I was stressed, and this stress continued throughout the weekend.
Every decision requires four hours of discussion.
Every option is a catastrophe.
Every word has the potential to cause an explosion.
Did I mention I forgot to pay my rent?!? WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME? I hope I don't get evicted.
We spent time at the sandbar (got a raging sunburn), had a cookout, went to Funspot and were joined by LBF - woo hoo!, went to Meredith and Weirs Beach, had dinner at D's friend's house, saw War of the Worlds and Mr. and Mrs. Smith at the drive in, listened to Mother gush about how happy she is that there are now 8 of us instead of 5 as though rings have been exchanged and sometimes I am more worried about her heart breaking than my own.
Spent the 4th of July drinking Ice Bowls at Fire and Ice in Harvard Square and then watching American Psycho at Sister's instead of watching fireworks. This could be the start of a wonderful tradition.
Now I am back and am experiencing no relief/happiness about it. I don't know why.
Do I miss things?
I think I miss me.
I think I have no idea what I think.
Well, its at least good to be back on My Mundane Life in Song.
Here are some photos from my vacation! Enjoy.
Tuesday, June 28, 2005
Sexual Dimorphism
You'll all be happy to know that I am packed and ready to depart for my, gasp, week off.
I wish I felt more relaxed about the whole thing. Instead, I am uptight about not being at work and can't quite shake the feeling that my boss is mad at me for going away.
Regardless, I think I am ready to go.
With RR's assistance last evening, I packed rather quickly. She discouraged the hair straightener and fully supported tube tops, which I ended up not bringing.
I was glad that RR was there, because instead of having to stare at D blankly while stifling comments such as "HAVE YOU EVEN MET ME BEFORE?" I had RR to glare at him judgmentally and say things like "DUDE, HAVE YOU EVER MET HER BEFORE?"
D said "Let's all go for a walk."
I said "Awesome. You guys go for a walk while I pack."
"No, come for a walk."
"No, I just want to pack."
"Why don't you pack when we get back?"
"Because I want to pack now. Because it is going to take forever. And the whole time we are walking, I will be thinking 'I should be packing. I have to pack when I get back. I hate packing.' I just want to pack so it's done with."
"How long could it really take?"
"A LONG ASS TIME."
RR said "It's going to take a long time."
"Why?"
"Girls take a long time," I explained.
RR said "D, you just don't understand. This is how it is. We should start packing now."
D shrugged and said "Well, can I help too?"
"No" we said in unison.
"No, really, I want to help. I think I can help."
"No, you can't," RR said.
"Seriously. I'll tell you what you need. I'm just bringing one pair of shorts and flip flops for my vacation."
"You're bringing one pair of pants for the whole week?" I said. And then "Don't you want to wear something other than flip flops when you go out to the bar?"
"Why? Why would I want to wear something other than flip flops on my vacation?"
"Boston has dress codes," RR explained.
I said "Won't you feel weird being the only person in flip flops and shorts? What if it's cold?"
"It's not going to be," he said. D then said "All you need to do is pack your linen pants and a bunch of shorts."
RR and I recoiled in horror.
I said "Linen pants? WHO DO YOU THINK I AM? PEACHES?!?!?"
"You don't want to bring your linen pants?"
"LINEN PANTS?!" we yelled.
RR shot him the look of death and said "She doesn't have linen pants."
"You don't?"
"Dude, have you ever seen me wearing linen pants?"
"Well, no, but don't girls have linen pants? Well, then, just bring your shorts."
"SHORTS!?!?!" we yelled.
"What?" he said.
RR said "She doesn't have shorts."
"You have shorts," he said. "I've seen them."
"Yeah, but I never wear them. I hate shorts."
"Just pack them."
RR said "D, you don't understand. She doesn't wear shorts. She hates how her legs look. It's just how girls are."
After this exchange I began to pack. I was doing the mandatory throw-everything-you-own-on-your-bed prepack when D appeared. He said "Can I help?" as I looked through earrings. "Sure!" I said. "Should I bring these ones?" I asked.
He said "Don't bring any earrings."
"Yeah, I know, I don't want to bring a million of them, but I definitely want to bring a few," I said. "What about these?"
"Don't bring any. You'll lose them."
"What?"
"You'll lose them. You'll put them somewhere, you'll forget them, you'll lose them."
WHAT? Where was RR when I needed her?
"D, I never lose anything." Unlike certain people who lose things all the time and unlike certain non-compulsive-listmaking types and unlike Sister who once left her eyeglasses at my apartment after spending the night, I never lose things. Never! I was insulted that he would assume that I would lose earrings. "I'm not going to lose them," I said.
"You're going to lose them."
This is why boys should not help girls pack. I calmly explained my never-failed jewelry packing technique to D who responded by saying "Well, I still don't think you should bring them."
Men and women. Mars and Venus. Blah blah blah, specifically when it comes to packing and planning, which makes travelling together challenging.
I am bringing earrings, as well as a million other items that will guarantee that my boyfriend will find me cute while on vacation.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
OK, readers, I am off! I'll be gone for a week, and I will miss you terribly.
Au revoir!
I wish I felt more relaxed about the whole thing. Instead, I am uptight about not being at work and can't quite shake the feeling that my boss is mad at me for going away.
Regardless, I think I am ready to go.
With RR's assistance last evening, I packed rather quickly. She discouraged the hair straightener and fully supported tube tops, which I ended up not bringing.
I was glad that RR was there, because instead of having to stare at D blankly while stifling comments such as "HAVE YOU EVEN MET ME BEFORE?" I had RR to glare at him judgmentally and say things like "DUDE, HAVE YOU EVER MET HER BEFORE?"
D said "Let's all go for a walk."
I said "Awesome. You guys go for a walk while I pack."
"No, come for a walk."
"No, I just want to pack."
"Why don't you pack when we get back?"
"Because I want to pack now. Because it is going to take forever. And the whole time we are walking, I will be thinking 'I should be packing. I have to pack when I get back. I hate packing.' I just want to pack so it's done with."
"How long could it really take?"
"A LONG ASS TIME."
RR said "It's going to take a long time."
"Why?"
"Girls take a long time," I explained.
RR said "D, you just don't understand. This is how it is. We should start packing now."
D shrugged and said "Well, can I help too?"
"No" we said in unison.
"No, really, I want to help. I think I can help."
"No, you can't," RR said.
"Seriously. I'll tell you what you need. I'm just bringing one pair of shorts and flip flops for my vacation."
"You're bringing one pair of pants for the whole week?" I said. And then "Don't you want to wear something other than flip flops when you go out to the bar?"
"Why? Why would I want to wear something other than flip flops on my vacation?"
"Boston has dress codes," RR explained.
I said "Won't you feel weird being the only person in flip flops and shorts? What if it's cold?"
"It's not going to be," he said. D then said "All you need to do is pack your linen pants and a bunch of shorts."
RR and I recoiled in horror.
I said "Linen pants? WHO DO YOU THINK I AM? PEACHES?!?!?"
"You don't want to bring your linen pants?"
"LINEN PANTS?!" we yelled.
RR shot him the look of death and said "She doesn't have linen pants."
"You don't?"
"Dude, have you ever seen me wearing linen pants?"
"Well, no, but don't girls have linen pants? Well, then, just bring your shorts."
"SHORTS!?!?!" we yelled.
"What?" he said.
RR said "She doesn't have shorts."
"You have shorts," he said. "I've seen them."
"Yeah, but I never wear them. I hate shorts."
"Just pack them."
RR said "D, you don't understand. She doesn't wear shorts. She hates how her legs look. It's just how girls are."
After this exchange I began to pack. I was doing the mandatory throw-everything-you-own-on-your-bed prepack when D appeared. He said "Can I help?" as I looked through earrings. "Sure!" I said. "Should I bring these ones?" I asked.
He said "Don't bring any earrings."
"Yeah, I know, I don't want to bring a million of them, but I definitely want to bring a few," I said. "What about these?"
"Don't bring any. You'll lose them."
"What?"
"You'll lose them. You'll put them somewhere, you'll forget them, you'll lose them."
WHAT? Where was RR when I needed her?
"D, I never lose anything." Unlike certain people who lose things all the time and unlike certain non-compulsive-listmaking types and unlike Sister who once left her eyeglasses at my apartment after spending the night, I never lose things. Never! I was insulted that he would assume that I would lose earrings. "I'm not going to lose them," I said.
"You're going to lose them."
This is why boys should not help girls pack. I calmly explained my never-failed jewelry packing technique to D who responded by saying "Well, I still don't think you should bring them."
Men and women. Mars and Venus. Blah blah blah, specifically when it comes to packing and planning, which makes travelling together challenging.
I am bringing earrings, as well as a million other items that will guarantee that my boyfriend will find me cute while on vacation.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
OK, readers, I am off! I'll be gone for a week, and I will miss you terribly.
Au revoir!
Monday, June 27, 2005
Eternal Flame
Dear Readers,
I am exhausted.
I am exhausted because I have not been sleeping enough and have not been sleeping well and because I will not really get to sleep well or enough for another two weeks.
The weekend was good. The mood began with awkwardness and starvation, then dipped after towed car, was then redeemed by fondue!, delicious martinis, old friends, a craft fair, and The Pillowman,(marvelous!), and finally ended in D's cuteness being foiled by egg allergies, oppressive heat and not enough quality sleep.
I can barely keep my eyes open today.
Tonight I get to engage in one of my favorite activities - packing! I haven't had to pack for more than 4 days away in years. This is daunting. Seven full days of clothing compacted into one bag. Should be interesting. I have to find swimwear that is hiding somewhere in my new apartment. I have to remember things like chargers and flip flops and batteries and old eyeglasses to donate. I have made a billion lists - who I am meeting when and where, who I am supposed to call when, things for D to do while I am doing things with former coworkers, bus schedules, karoake address, methods to use while trying to prevent one's head from exploding.
Is it possible, folks, that I have not planned efficiently enough to allow for a burrito at Anna's?
RR, my dear wife, is cooking a vegetarian dinner tonight and said it will be ready when I get home. How precious!
After dinner I will spend 4 hours packing for the week. I hope RR is prepared for the insanity. I suppose she knows what she's in for since she witnessed my packing for ShittyNYCDateWeekend #1 with Certain Someone last summer. I tried on no fewer than 40 outfits. "If I wear this, it might suggest this..." "Hair - up or down?" "Half up?" "What about these earrings?" "Do my boobs look ok in this?" "Do you think he prefers purple or blue?" "But with this shirt I can wear these glasses..." "I agree that this is a better shirt but it makes me look fat."
There will be none of this tonight. It will be more like "Wait - will I actually wear this?" "What do people wear to the beach?" "How many bathing suits does one bring?" "Will I wear a tank tops or things with sleeves?" "Will I really need these shoes?" "What are the odds of my actually straightening my hair?" "Should I bring nail polish?" "I wish my camera was smaller!" "Why the fuck do I suck so hard at packing!??!?!" "I HATE THIS!" "What is the weather going to be like?" "Should I bring a hoodie? Two? An umbrella?" "What if I want to be sparkly at karaoke?" "Am I going to need these earrings?" "Should I bring all the glasses?"
Yeah. It's going to rock.
I will bid you all a fond farewell tomorrow, but until then, please have Manic Mondays.
With Love, Leah Lar
I am exhausted.
I am exhausted because I have not been sleeping enough and have not been sleeping well and because I will not really get to sleep well or enough for another two weeks.
The weekend was good. The mood began with awkwardness and starvation, then dipped after towed car, was then redeemed by fondue!, delicious martinis, old friends, a craft fair, and The Pillowman,(marvelous!), and finally ended in D's cuteness being foiled by egg allergies, oppressive heat and not enough quality sleep.
I can barely keep my eyes open today.
Tonight I get to engage in one of my favorite activities - packing! I haven't had to pack for more than 4 days away in years. This is daunting. Seven full days of clothing compacted into one bag. Should be interesting. I have to find swimwear that is hiding somewhere in my new apartment. I have to remember things like chargers and flip flops and batteries and old eyeglasses to donate. I have made a billion lists - who I am meeting when and where, who I am supposed to call when, things for D to do while I am doing things with former coworkers, bus schedules, karoake address, methods to use while trying to prevent one's head from exploding.
Is it possible, folks, that I have not planned efficiently enough to allow for a burrito at Anna's?
RR, my dear wife, is cooking a vegetarian dinner tonight and said it will be ready when I get home. How precious!
After dinner I will spend 4 hours packing for the week. I hope RR is prepared for the insanity. I suppose she knows what she's in for since she witnessed my packing for ShittyNYCDateWeekend #1 with Certain Someone last summer. I tried on no fewer than 40 outfits. "If I wear this, it might suggest this..." "Hair - up or down?" "Half up?" "What about these earrings?" "Do my boobs look ok in this?" "Do you think he prefers purple or blue?" "But with this shirt I can wear these glasses..." "I agree that this is a better shirt but it makes me look fat."
There will be none of this tonight. It will be more like "Wait - will I actually wear this?" "What do people wear to the beach?" "How many bathing suits does one bring?" "Will I wear a tank tops or things with sleeves?" "Will I really need these shoes?" "What are the odds of my actually straightening my hair?" "Should I bring nail polish?" "I wish my camera was smaller!" "Why the fuck do I suck so hard at packing!??!?!" "I HATE THIS!" "What is the weather going to be like?" "Should I bring a hoodie? Two? An umbrella?" "What if I want to be sparkly at karaoke?" "Am I going to need these earrings?" "Should I bring all the glasses?"
Yeah. It's going to rock.
I will bid you all a fond farewell tomorrow, but until then, please have Manic Mondays.
With Love, Leah Lar
Friday, June 24, 2005
Start Your Weekend Off with Photos from This Week in NYC
I was just in the shower when dudes with a vacuum showed up to vacuum my apartment to rid the floors of the final remnants of sodium bicarbonate. I love that they are doing this because I don't own a vacuum cleaner.
Awkward, though.
Now two men are vacuuming my floor while I sit here watching them. I suppose I could leave, but my inner cynic doesn't trust them with everything I own.
So, dear readers, you get to enjoy my killing time! Here are some photos I took this week:
D and I couldn't get into International Short Films at the MOMA, so we ended up walking around the city to enjoy the beautiful weather on Wednesday night.
D likes the street lamps because they remind him of the alien on the War of the Worlds poster.
D said "Let's take the bus so we can see New York City!" These are a couple photos from my first NYC bus ride.
My company participated in the JPMorganChasedCharityRace in Central Park last night. I went there to be "supportive girlfriend" rather than "supportive employee." I didn't even walk the race. Instead, I eagerly awaited D at the finish line. D didn't win, but he came in like 17th out of 15,000 people! I was thrilled. He was not. It is interesting how neither of us think that what we do well at things or perform well enough, and how we're both constantly trying to convince the other that they've done a great job. With this particular issue, I felt like I had the hard data and statistics to back up D's performance, but he still wasn't having it. Either way, I am "proud girlfriend" today and realize that I forgot how powerful, ahem, post-sports pheremones can be.
Prior to the race, I thought "This will show me what being a sports photographer is like! Maybe when I grow up I can be a sports photographer! D will be so excited that I will be showing an interest in racing sports!"
I soon realized that I had no interest in the race itself after D crossed the finish line. I wonder why I don't have a competitive bone in my body. I feel like I may be the only person on the planet who finds competitve sports offensive.
When the 10th place runner crossed the finish line, the woman next to me exclaimed "He came in 10th! That means he gets the raise!" I can't believe that sports prowess is being rewarded in the workplace. This race isn't about prestige, its about charity. It's not like "Whatever company the first place runner works for is the coolest company in Manhattan!" No. Why should someone get a raise, at work, because they can run fast? Freaking ridiculous. I was mortified. I wanted to be like "Right, and the woman with the four kids at home who couldn't run this race because she had to go cook them dinner should get a raise for being an awesome single mother."
Anyway, I digress. I decided as I was snapping random photos (incidentally, at random, I managed to capture the 3rd, 4th, and 5th place runners from my company in group shots) that maybe I should be a post-sports photographer.
I really like all of these photos of people looking bizarre and in agony. I had far too much fun last night scanning the crowds for runners who were making weird faces.
For example: the guy in the background of this photo looks like he wants to kill the guy in the foreground. Awesome!
D and I went back to our company tent where everyone was like "D, you're our pride and joy! You are amazing! You are the best! WOW! ZOWIE!!!! You came in two minutes ahead of your time last year! YAY!" I was waiting for them to say "We're going to give you a $20,000 raise for being athletic even though that is entirely irrelevant to how you do your job!" It is weird to feel like "the girlfriend" amongst people you see every day. This is something that constantly bothers me. Feeling awkward (as did D, which is one of the reasons I love him), I stepped away and called M to feel like I exist.
When M got off the phone to eat dinner, I said "D, I really need to get out of here. This is weird." He said "I know." Overambitious D (who the night before said "We should go to this tomorrow - we will leave immediately after the race!" and I didn't say "Dude, you're going to be sweaty and tired and dying and it's an hour from the city and ok whatever you want but I think this is overambitious") and I headed to Prospect Park in Brooklyn to see/hear William Kentridge films. It took us forever to get there because the trains were being uncooperative. When we got there we learned that there was a suggested donation (wtf?) and that it was about a million times more crowded that we'd anticipated. We sat down on the grass and couldn't see because people were standing in front of us. D was tired and ruined from the race, so we ended up leaving about 20 minutes after we got there. I was slightly disappointed that D was a wreck, because there was an awesome playground and not a child around to use it.
The pheremones were wasted, and I returned home alone to my post-sports photos.
Awkward, though.
Now two men are vacuuming my floor while I sit here watching them. I suppose I could leave, but my inner cynic doesn't trust them with everything I own.
So, dear readers, you get to enjoy my killing time! Here are some photos I took this week:
D and I couldn't get into International Short Films at the MOMA, so we ended up walking around the city to enjoy the beautiful weather on Wednesday night.
D likes the street lamps because they remind him of the alien on the War of the Worlds poster.
D said "Let's take the bus so we can see New York City!" These are a couple photos from my first NYC bus ride.
My company participated in the JPMorganChasedCharityRace in Central Park last night. I went there to be "supportive girlfriend" rather than "supportive employee." I didn't even walk the race. Instead, I eagerly awaited D at the finish line. D didn't win, but he came in like 17th out of 15,000 people! I was thrilled. He was not. It is interesting how neither of us think that what we do well at things or perform well enough, and how we're both constantly trying to convince the other that they've done a great job. With this particular issue, I felt like I had the hard data and statistics to back up D's performance, but he still wasn't having it. Either way, I am "proud girlfriend" today and realize that I forgot how powerful, ahem, post-sports pheremones can be.
Prior to the race, I thought "This will show me what being a sports photographer is like! Maybe when I grow up I can be a sports photographer! D will be so excited that I will be showing an interest in racing sports!"
I soon realized that I had no interest in the race itself after D crossed the finish line. I wonder why I don't have a competitive bone in my body. I feel like I may be the only person on the planet who finds competitve sports offensive.
When the 10th place runner crossed the finish line, the woman next to me exclaimed "He came in 10th! That means he gets the raise!" I can't believe that sports prowess is being rewarded in the workplace. This race isn't about prestige, its about charity. It's not like "Whatever company the first place runner works for is the coolest company in Manhattan!" No. Why should someone get a raise, at work, because they can run fast? Freaking ridiculous. I was mortified. I wanted to be like "Right, and the woman with the four kids at home who couldn't run this race because she had to go cook them dinner should get a raise for being an awesome single mother."
Anyway, I digress. I decided as I was snapping random photos (incidentally, at random, I managed to capture the 3rd, 4th, and 5th place runners from my company in group shots) that maybe I should be a post-sports photographer.
I really like all of these photos of people looking bizarre and in agony. I had far too much fun last night scanning the crowds for runners who were making weird faces.
For example: the guy in the background of this photo looks like he wants to kill the guy in the foreground. Awesome!
D and I went back to our company tent where everyone was like "D, you're our pride and joy! You are amazing! You are the best! WOW! ZOWIE!!!! You came in two minutes ahead of your time last year! YAY!" I was waiting for them to say "We're going to give you a $20,000 raise for being athletic even though that is entirely irrelevant to how you do your job!" It is weird to feel like "the girlfriend" amongst people you see every day. This is something that constantly bothers me. Feeling awkward (as did D, which is one of the reasons I love him), I stepped away and called M to feel like I exist.
When M got off the phone to eat dinner, I said "D, I really need to get out of here. This is weird." He said "I know." Overambitious D (who the night before said "We should go to this tomorrow - we will leave immediately after the race!" and I didn't say "Dude, you're going to be sweaty and tired and dying and it's an hour from the city and ok whatever you want but I think this is overambitious") and I headed to Prospect Park in Brooklyn to see/hear William Kentridge films. It took us forever to get there because the trains were being uncooperative. When we got there we learned that there was a suggested donation (wtf?) and that it was about a million times more crowded that we'd anticipated. We sat down on the grass and couldn't see because people were standing in front of us. D was tired and ruined from the race, so we ended up leaving about 20 minutes after we got there. I was slightly disappointed that D was a wreck, because there was an awesome playground and not a child around to use it.
The pheremones were wasted, and I returned home alone to my post-sports photos.
Thursday, June 23, 2005
Vegetables
I am offended that Avirl Lavigne is a vegetarian.
I am voting for Damon Albarn .
I know you are all tempted to vote for Casey Kasem, but please, do not.
I am voting for Damon Albarn .
I know you are all tempted to vote for Casey Kasem, but please, do not.
Short Cuts
As I walked down 8th Street last night, holding D's hand, I nearly bumped into a girl who was holding Matthew Modine's hand!
Gasp.
"Oh my god! That was Matthew Modine!" I said to D, who quickly turned around and tried to get a look. He had missed him. I hate the short millisecond celebrity sighting that cannot be shared.
"What did he look like?" he asked.
I explained that he was wearing a white t-shirt, shorts, and a white baseball cap that was only mostly covering his terribly bleached hair.
"Wow. Matthew Modine. Man."
I had such a crush on Matthew Modine. When I was a medical-school bound pre-teen, I watched Gross Anatomy repetitively. I enjoyed watching Matthew Modine transform into a hot but sensitive medical student, and imagined myself as the future Mrs. Dr. Modine.
When we got back to D's apartment after wandering the city aimlessly for hours in order to enjoy the nice weather and make up for being shut out of sold-out MOMA short films, I said "You know, it's weird. If Matthew Modine had wanted to trade, I'd have said no."
It wasn't the most articulate compliment. What I'd meant to say was "I used to have such a crush on Matthew Modine, but now that I am with you, I have no interest in him. If he'd said 'Swap - D can have my girlfriend and I'll take you,' I'd have been like 'No way, Matthew Modine! I have D now! I don't need to think about you in the 'Memphis Belle' and salivate any more! Take that, Matthew Modine."
"You wouldn't have traded what?"
"I'm saying that I'd have to think about it if he offered me $1,000,000 to sleep with him. Because, well, you're awesome."
D said "Huh. He's pretty awesome, though. You really don't think his Modine-itude could sway you?"
No, D, it is precisely because you say things like "Modine-itude" that I will never sleep with Matthew Modine.
Because, really, Matthew Modine was about to say "Dude, let me take your girlfriend!" but we were walking too fast.
Matthew Modine would never say cute things like "Modine-itude."
Or, maybe its just because I am a grown up now and don't have crushes on celebrities.
Right.
This all would have gone down differently had we encountered Christian Bale on the street, because right now D would be saying "I thought you said he was giving you a million dollars to sleep with him! Where's the money? What are we going to do with all that money? This is awesome!" and I'd be saying "Oh, well, actually, ummm, right. Remember that million dollars? Yeah. I made that up," and D would say "Oh, ok, cool."
So yeah.
Celebrity Sighting: Matthew Modine With Bad Hair.
Aweshummmmm.
Gasp.
"Oh my god! That was Matthew Modine!" I said to D, who quickly turned around and tried to get a look. He had missed him. I hate the short millisecond celebrity sighting that cannot be shared.
"What did he look like?" he asked.
I explained that he was wearing a white t-shirt, shorts, and a white baseball cap that was only mostly covering his terribly bleached hair.
"Wow. Matthew Modine. Man."
I had such a crush on Matthew Modine. When I was a medical-school bound pre-teen, I watched Gross Anatomy repetitively. I enjoyed watching Matthew Modine transform into a hot but sensitive medical student, and imagined myself as the future Mrs. Dr. Modine.
When we got back to D's apartment after wandering the city aimlessly for hours in order to enjoy the nice weather and make up for being shut out of sold-out MOMA short films, I said "You know, it's weird. If Matthew Modine had wanted to trade, I'd have said no."
It wasn't the most articulate compliment. What I'd meant to say was "I used to have such a crush on Matthew Modine, but now that I am with you, I have no interest in him. If he'd said 'Swap - D can have my girlfriend and I'll take you,' I'd have been like 'No way, Matthew Modine! I have D now! I don't need to think about you in the 'Memphis Belle' and salivate any more! Take that, Matthew Modine."
"You wouldn't have traded what?"
"I'm saying that I'd have to think about it if he offered me $1,000,000 to sleep with him. Because, well, you're awesome."
D said "Huh. He's pretty awesome, though. You really don't think his Modine-itude could sway you?"
No, D, it is precisely because you say things like "Modine-itude" that I will never sleep with Matthew Modine.
Because, really, Matthew Modine was about to say "Dude, let me take your girlfriend!" but we were walking too fast.
Matthew Modine would never say cute things like "Modine-itude."
Or, maybe its just because I am a grown up now and don't have crushes on celebrities.
Right.
This all would have gone down differently had we encountered Christian Bale on the street, because right now D would be saying "I thought you said he was giving you a million dollars to sleep with him! Where's the money? What are we going to do with all that money? This is awesome!" and I'd be saying "Oh, well, actually, ummm, right. Remember that million dollars? Yeah. I made that up," and D would say "Oh, ok, cool."
So yeah.
Celebrity Sighting: Matthew Modine With Bad Hair.
Aweshummmmm.
Wednesday, June 22, 2005
Too Short For Short Hair
SM and I had nice, delirious conversations last night. He visited again in order "to get as much sleep as possible" before he goes on tour and has to indulge radio audiences and bar staff and bands he doesn't like.
I played some of my new music for him, and in response to one song, he said "What were you thinking of when you wrote this song?" "Content-wise?" "No, what song were you thinking of?" I said "I wasn't thinking about any song." "Just listen..." he said.
We listened, and I still had no idea what he was talking about.
SM has an amazing ability to be harsh and critical about my music without my feeling sensitive. I love people who have the innate ability to be purely constructive.
He said "You know? That Radiohead song? From The Bends?"
I quickly abandoned My Mundane Life in Song and scrolled through Radiohead songs on my Ipod until we found the song in question.
"Shit," I murmered, and was immediately thrust back into the existential crisis involving familiarity.
It's the same chord progression. Fine. This happens. But. Do I only think things I write sound good because I've heard them before?
And, back to a topic from the earlier post, is it the same with people? Are we only drawn to people because they remind us of something/someone else? Is everything we like/do based on familiarity?
SM thinks its all about familiarity. Regularity. "Everyone does this," he explained, and relayed an anecdote about his current band that threw me into convulsive fits of laughter.
But.
Am I unable to write anything new because things I haven't heard before seem wrong to me?
I am happy, at least, that I ripped off a short Radiohead chord progression, since I still get goosebumps every time I hear any melancholy Radiohead song. It would have been tragic if I'd, for example, accidentally rewritten an Avril Lavigne song.
SM said "Knowing this will help your songwriting."
Yes, but knowing this may also stop my songwriting.
I don't know. I am frazzled and crazed at work and someone I work with has started calling me "Daria."
I played some of my new music for him, and in response to one song, he said "What were you thinking of when you wrote this song?" "Content-wise?" "No, what song were you thinking of?" I said "I wasn't thinking about any song." "Just listen..." he said.
We listened, and I still had no idea what he was talking about.
SM has an amazing ability to be harsh and critical about my music without my feeling sensitive. I love people who have the innate ability to be purely constructive.
He said "You know? That Radiohead song? From The Bends?"
I quickly abandoned My Mundane Life in Song and scrolled through Radiohead songs on my Ipod until we found the song in question.
"Shit," I murmered, and was immediately thrust back into the existential crisis involving familiarity.
It's the same chord progression. Fine. This happens. But. Do I only think things I write sound good because I've heard them before?
And, back to a topic from the earlier post, is it the same with people? Are we only drawn to people because they remind us of something/someone else? Is everything we like/do based on familiarity?
SM thinks its all about familiarity. Regularity. "Everyone does this," he explained, and relayed an anecdote about his current band that threw me into convulsive fits of laughter.
But.
Am I unable to write anything new because things I haven't heard before seem wrong to me?
I am happy, at least, that I ripped off a short Radiohead chord progression, since I still get goosebumps every time I hear any melancholy Radiohead song. It would have been tragic if I'd, for example, accidentally rewritten an Avril Lavigne song.
SM said "Knowing this will help your songwriting."
Yes, but knowing this may also stop my songwriting.
I don't know. I am frazzled and crazed at work and someone I work with has started calling me "Daria."
Tuesday, June 21, 2005
And then on Monday....
... I walked into work and my computer was dead.
It had a black screen. Whenever I did things that usually help, such as turn it off and then back on, it did this weird sort-of-black screen thing and then said "Insert System Disk to Reconfigure."
I emailed the appropriate people from Bench Buddy's computer. A dude appeared a few hours later, looked at the computer, and said "I am just going to take this away."
Sniff.
He took the body away and I began to weep for Lost Lego People and things I hadn't backed up on the server. Most of my science was saved, but I lost all of my links to random blogs as well as some science programs that require licenses that are going to take a while to reinstall. This is not good. I can't do my work very efficiently.
I am distressed. I've lost a computer at almost every job I've had and usually they save some sort of image of the desktop or history or something. Not here. No. "It's dead" and they take it away without even trying to revive it.
I have been very efficient at the bench throughout all of this, which is good because I am getting slammed at work. I am caught up on projects and have determined that my identity has not been stolen after talking to the IRS, and have determined that I do not owe an additional $1200 in medical bills on top of what I already owe. Now all I have to do is receive my security deposit and I will be a happy girl.
I am going to write out experiments now and not figure out what primers to use for sequencing because all of my files were on my former desktop, and even if I had them, I couldn't read them because I no longer have the extremely priveleged license to do so.
It had a black screen. Whenever I did things that usually help, such as turn it off and then back on, it did this weird sort-of-black screen thing and then said "Insert System Disk to Reconfigure."
I emailed the appropriate people from Bench Buddy's computer. A dude appeared a few hours later, looked at the computer, and said "I am just going to take this away."
Sniff.
He took the body away and I began to weep for Lost Lego People and things I hadn't backed up on the server. Most of my science was saved, but I lost all of my links to random blogs as well as some science programs that require licenses that are going to take a while to reinstall. This is not good. I can't do my work very efficiently.
I am distressed. I've lost a computer at almost every job I've had and usually they save some sort of image of the desktop or history or something. Not here. No. "It's dead" and they take it away without even trying to revive it.
I have been very efficient at the bench throughout all of this, which is good because I am getting slammed at work. I am caught up on projects and have determined that my identity has not been stolen after talking to the IRS, and have determined that I do not owe an additional $1200 in medical bills on top of what I already owe. Now all I have to do is receive my security deposit and I will be a happy girl.
I am going to write out experiments now and not figure out what primers to use for sequencing because all of my files were on my former desktop, and even if I had them, I couldn't read them because I no longer have the extremely priveleged license to do so.
The Weekend Looked Like This....
The weekend was:
Drinks on Bench Buddy's roof, followed by much drunkenness and inadvertent honesty and feeling as though I actually have friends. We went to see The Forms at Lit and I was unimpressed. R was far more unimpressed than I was, to the point where he and Bench Buddy fought. I have never seen Bench Buddy so giddy with delight, which is why I didn't feel like I had to explain how/why I thought it sucked. I just said "Wasn't my scene, sorry."
Saturday was walking in Manhattan. On my way to Eyebeam I saw a truck unloading tropical-looking trees that were "for rent." Eyebeam itself was, well, yeah. Perhaps I don't really care what a color sounds like. I spent my time there either tripping or feeling elated that I didn't bring my parents there last weekend.
Next was the Comic Con. I met E there to see the costume contest, which was adorable (I clapped loudest for The Ghostbusters, who ended up winning, due to authenticity and effort!; the little Anakin kid was, however, the cutest thing ever but I didn't vote for him because I felt that he must have been being exploited by his parents). Aerosith was a disappointment. Prior to their set, I thought "It's going to be really impressive to see people play instruments while in costume!" Apparently that would have been too impressive, since they didn't actually play instruments. They put on a tape and pretended to play. How middle school lip-sync contest of them! Not even, since they were wearing masks.
I then headed to Macy's, where I purchased a dress for The Argentina Wedding! Woo hoo. I did not, however, purchase a wrap since wraps apparently cost more than dresses. I'll just freeze.
I then went home and got 14 hours of sleep.
Sunday was comprised of repeated attempts to go to the MOMA for the Lee Friedlander exhibit that were foiled by my mood or by phone calls. Both the mood and phone calls needed to be dealt with, so the wasted day was worth it. I still haven't caught up on all phone calls, but progress is being made.
SM arrived on Sunday night and we went out and said things like "I forgot how you are..." and "You've changed... and it's good." I drank watermelon martinis with actual pieces of watermelon in them and was feeling hap py until the following morning. D met us and I witnessed his being nervous for the first time ever. It was endearing, and it is good that yet another friend approves.
Which brings me to the week, which I will write about shortly...
Monday, June 20, 2005
What if Christian Slater Was Batman Instead?
Date: 6.19.05
Style: Cheesy and Sounds Like Every Other Song On This Blog!
Description:
I had an hour to kill yesterday while waiting for my friend SM (from MA!) to arrive at my apartment. I thought "What better way to kill time than to write a song about Christian Bale!?"
It's terrible. It's my first attempt at recording piano (no keyboard anymore - sniff sniff) so pardon the hissing in the background. I had to layer 4 piano tracks on top of one another in order to get enough volume to actually hear it.
The song itself is an abomination. But, who can resist a song about Christian Bale?
Lyrics:
Ever since the days of Disney musicals
In which you sold newspapers
You were young, you were misguided,
I was there, I was excited
And now you're Batman
I was there when you were swing dancing, you were a Nazi
And all the girls they were talking about that guy from Dead Poets Society
But I couldn't stop talking about you
I searched for a poster everywhere I went
Just like Gleaming the Cube
I couldn't find either but who cares
Who are those girls talking about now
They're talkin' bout Batman
The critics say you're the best
You'll save the franchise
And then you'll save all of us from Dukes of Hazard
And things like Episode III
The first two hours sucked
But I really liked the last fight
I was psyched when Natalie Portman died
And now I won't have to see it twice
Because I can see Batman
You can chase me down the stairs with a chainsaw any time of day
I'd be your girlfriend if you weighed only 128
I've been there through thick and thin
I even sat through Little Women
I'll be faithful to you Christian
Two decades of evolving fantasies
And now I can think of you as Batman
You're hot as Batman
Style: Cheesy and Sounds Like Every Other Song On This Blog!
Description:
I had an hour to kill yesterday while waiting for my friend SM (from MA!) to arrive at my apartment. I thought "What better way to kill time than to write a song about Christian Bale!?"
It's terrible. It's my first attempt at recording piano (no keyboard anymore - sniff sniff) so pardon the hissing in the background. I had to layer 4 piano tracks on top of one another in order to get enough volume to actually hear it.
The song itself is an abomination. But, who can resist a song about Christian Bale?
Lyrics:
Ever since the days of Disney musicals
In which you sold newspapers
You were young, you were misguided,
I was there, I was excited
And now you're Batman
I was there when you were swing dancing, you were a Nazi
And all the girls they were talking about that guy from Dead Poets Society
But I couldn't stop talking about you
I searched for a poster everywhere I went
Just like Gleaming the Cube
I couldn't find either but who cares
Who are those girls talking about now
They're talkin' bout Batman
The critics say you're the best
You'll save the franchise
And then you'll save all of us from Dukes of Hazard
And things like Episode III
The first two hours sucked
But I really liked the last fight
I was psyched when Natalie Portman died
And now I won't have to see it twice
Because I can see Batman
You can chase me down the stairs with a chainsaw any time of day
I'd be your girlfriend if you weighed only 128
I've been there through thick and thin
I even sat through Little Women
I'll be faithful to you Christian
Two decades of evolving fantasies
And now I can think of you as Batman
You're hot as Batman
Friday, June 17, 2005
Friday! Happy!
R was just in our bay and conversation turned to Karate Kid. R said "Yeah, and Hillary Swank was in Karate Kid 3."
Bench Buddy and I quickly jumped on him and said "No! That was The Next Karate Kid. Karate Kid 3 was a different movie entirely."
R looked at us in horror. Had he possibly missed a Karate Kid? Bench Buddy quickly and impressively recounted the entire plot of Karate Kid 3.
R said "The craziest thing is that Pat Morita was in it."
I said "Why is that crazy?"
Bench Buddy said "What else would Pat Morita be in?"
I said "A Happy Days movie? That would rule."
R, instantly consumed by venom, said "No movie of a TV show should ever be made ever again!"
Bench Buddy, without missing a beat said, "Yeah, but what would think of a Saved By The Bell movie?"
R lit up and said "Yeah, I guess that would be awesome."
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I was on the train this morning and there was an ad for the Bronx Zoo, and the ad said something like "Now your kids can ride giant bugs!" and showed a little girl riding a giant grasshopper on a carousel.
I am totally freaked out.
More like "Now your kids can get really freaked out by gigantic hideous bugs!"
Seriously. I can't think of anything more horrifying.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I still have a pet peeve about people who press elevator buttons after they've clearly already been pressed.
What is more annoying is when like 20 people are in the lobby waiting for an elevator and somebody comes and thinks that if they press the button 100 times really quickly and with anger that they will be able to summon the elevator in a way that nobody else could.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I had karaoke dreams last night. Sigh. I dreamt about Sid from Sid Karaoke. I need to do karaoke soon. Maybe when I am in Boston....
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It's Friday. I am so happy. This weekend is going to rule. I am free this weekend of visitors and boyfriend, so I will see galleries and go to the Comic Con to see Aerosith and watch movies and clean my apartment in anticipation of visitors and get lots of sleep. Tonight I will drink on Bench Buddy's roof, looking cute with new purple glasses with pink rhinestones, after checking out the Mr. T exhibit.
Have a nice weekend!
Bench Buddy and I quickly jumped on him and said "No! That was The Next Karate Kid. Karate Kid 3 was a different movie entirely."
R looked at us in horror. Had he possibly missed a Karate Kid? Bench Buddy quickly and impressively recounted the entire plot of Karate Kid 3.
R said "The craziest thing is that Pat Morita was in it."
I said "Why is that crazy?"
Bench Buddy said "What else would Pat Morita be in?"
I said "A Happy Days movie? That would rule."
R, instantly consumed by venom, said "No movie of a TV show should ever be made ever again!"
Bench Buddy, without missing a beat said, "Yeah, but what would think of a Saved By The Bell movie?"
R lit up and said "Yeah, I guess that would be awesome."
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I was on the train this morning and there was an ad for the Bronx Zoo, and the ad said something like "Now your kids can ride giant bugs!" and showed a little girl riding a giant grasshopper on a carousel.
I am totally freaked out.
More like "Now your kids can get really freaked out by gigantic hideous bugs!"
Seriously. I can't think of anything more horrifying.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I still have a pet peeve about people who press elevator buttons after they've clearly already been pressed.
What is more annoying is when like 20 people are in the lobby waiting for an elevator and somebody comes and thinks that if they press the button 100 times really quickly and with anger that they will be able to summon the elevator in a way that nobody else could.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I had karaoke dreams last night. Sigh. I dreamt about Sid from Sid Karaoke. I need to do karaoke soon. Maybe when I am in Boston....
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It's Friday. I am so happy. This weekend is going to rule. I am free this weekend of visitors and boyfriend, so I will see galleries and go to the Comic Con to see Aerosith and watch movies and clean my apartment in anticipation of visitors and get lots of sleep. Tonight I will drink on Bench Buddy's roof, looking cute with new purple glasses with pink rhinestones, after checking out the Mr. T exhibit.
Have a nice weekend!
Thursday, June 16, 2005
Do Not Eat at the Tick Tock Diner
Please. Do not eat there.
D and I intended to meet D's friend M at a diner last night prior to seeing Batman Begins.
D said "Yeah, you know, I'm getting there at 6:00. M's getting there whenever, so, you know, just get there whenever."
D called at 6:00 and said "Don't go to that diner. There's filming going on and it doesn't look like they have a bar. I'm going to walk around and find somewhere else to eat."
I left work at about 6:15 and went home to grab my hoodie, since it was winter yesterday. I called D who said "We're at the Tick Tock Diner, on the northwest side of 34th and 8th."
Word.
By the time I arrived, D and M had already had drinks and inhaled mozzeralla sticks.
I looked at the menu and decided what I wanted. Fifteen minutes passed and still no waiter. I was getting slightly concerned because I wanted good seats for Batman.
The waiter finally appeared and said "Can I get you anything else?"
We were like "Well, we'd like to order our dinner."
"Oh, right."
"I'd like the Santa Fe omelette," I said, and was met with a look indicating that suddenly I had seven heads.
"The Santa Fe omelette?" I repeated.
Still a blank stare.
I pointed to it on the menu. He shook his head in disbelief and wrote it down. He then said "What toast would you like?"
"What kind do you have?"
"Toast."
"Yeah, but what do you have?"
"All kinds of toast," very judgmentally.
"OK. Well, do you have raisin?"
"No."
"What do you have?"
"You know, toast."
"What kinds do you have?"
All confused "White? Rye?"
"I'll just have white."
Fine.
The food didn't come for a while and we started to get concerned again.
The waiter reappeared and said "Oh, I lost your order. I just don't know where it is. Can you give it to me again?"
We re-ordered.
The food still did not come, nor did our drinks.
He reappeared and said "It's coming soon..." and we said "Um, could we have the waters? And the beer? And could I get some silverware?"
Nothing appeared.
Finally the food came. No beverages. No silverware.
I said "Our beverages? And silverware?"
The beverages came out about 5 minutes later, and still no silverware.
I asked the lady in the booth next to us if I could have her extra set of silverware.
Finally we were able to eat!
The food wasn't bad. We were sitting at a really small booth so I had my toast sort of on the edge of the table with my knife hanging over the edge of the plate. A waitress blew by frantically and knocked the knife off of the plate, into the air, it bounced off of my shirt and then my pants and finally onto the floor.
She got all huffy, as though it was my fault, picked up the knife and stormed off. She didn't apologize, nor did she return with a replacement knife.
Terrible experience all around, and late to Batman Begins.
We ended up having to sit in the second row of a theater with a huge screen. I wasn't too upset about it, as I'd seen Spiderman under similar circumstances and rather enjoyed being that close to the action.
We ended up, however, having to sit in front of some woman who had her three year old daughter with her. First of all - who brings a three year old to see Batman Begins? Second of all - who brings a three year old to see a 9:00 showing of Batman Begins? Third of all - yeah. Needless to say the kid was screaming and making horrified and amused noises throughout the entire movie. Very annoying.
Also annoying was the fact that many people decided that it would be acceptable to talk throughout the movie. There was a huge thug factor at this movie, and I was convinced that a knife fight or shooting would break out. An argument erupted somewhere in the stadium seating about 15 minutes into the movie. Two groups of people literally screaming at each other. What was the fight about? No idea. Probably "Yo, assholes, stop talking" and then "I can do whatever I want!" and then "Shut the fuck up!" A lot of people left entirely, some people switched seats. Mostly people were just screaming and murmering and getting out of hand. I don't know how it was resolved, but the first half hour of the movie is basically lost to me.
Also annoying was the fact that the movie theater was 3 degrees. I had my hoodie zipped all the way and the hood on and then pulled it up over my face and was still shivering the entire time.
Also annoying was the fact that I have been sick. Well, I don't know if I am sick but something has been awry for the past few days, starting with Tuesday when I took a three hour nap in the middle of the day. I have been exhausted, but not like flu exhausted. Like weird internal exhaustion, and today I am exhausted and am sometimes having a fever and sometimes my hands are shaking to the point that I can't label tubes. Weird. I averaged at least one yawn a minute during the movie, and nearly fell asleep a couple of times.
This all being said and having seen this movie under duress, my opinion is: FUCKING AWESOME AMAZING WOW BLAM POW PERFECT!
My thoughts:
1. Christian Bale - best Batman thus far. He was amazing. He played it believably dark and smartly.
2. Katie Holmes - not nearly as annoying as I'd feared. (On a similar note, I saw the preview for Dukes of Hazard and I feel really bad about it, because I think that the casting of Jessica Simpson is goint to prevent anyone from seeing it. Her annoyingness quotient far exceeds the coolness factor of the rest of the movie).
3. Gary Oldman - he somehow managed to not be creepy! Who knew that was even possible? He is endearing and wholesome as the future Commissioner Gordon.
4. Michael Caine as Alfred - ADORABLE. We had to fill out an audience survey and you had to pick your favorite character, and I went with Michael Caine. He is so cute and wonderful in this movie.
5. Cillian Murphy - WOW. He is going to be a huge star. I fell in love with him in 28 Days Later. I had a hard time choosing between him and Michael Caine as my favorite character. He is beautiful. There's something enchanting about his face. He's pretty. And an amazing actor.
6. Morgan Freeman - yeah. Of course he was wonderful. He always is. He is a national treasure. The most exciting thing about Morgan Freeman in this movie is that he is a scientist! He was throwing around "receptor" and other terminology. D became spastic at one point, punched me and said "That's a gas chromatograph (or something to that effect - I don't know anything about chemistry)!" Morgan Freeman was all "I analyzed your blood and receptor content and catalyst and blah blah blah - it was difficult" but then managed to develop an antedote to the chemical in the same day. I love movie science.
7. Other cast members such as Tom Wilkinson, Liam Neeson, Ken Watanabe - all awesome.
8. The strength of this movie is the characters. Everyone is perfect. I can't stop gushing about this movie. I am still high from it.
9. The fight scenes at the beginning between Liam Neeson and Christian Bale are quick and gorgeous.
10. My only complaint might be Gotham itself - it was a little too CGI and shiny.
11. Thematically it was intense - fear and guilt and duty etc. It was tortured without being cheesy.
12. Script - perfect.
Yeah. I could go on and on. Net: I loved it and you must all see it.
That is all.
D and I intended to meet D's friend M at a diner last night prior to seeing Batman Begins.
D said "Yeah, you know, I'm getting there at 6:00. M's getting there whenever, so, you know, just get there whenever."
D called at 6:00 and said "Don't go to that diner. There's filming going on and it doesn't look like they have a bar. I'm going to walk around and find somewhere else to eat."
I left work at about 6:15 and went home to grab my hoodie, since it was winter yesterday. I called D who said "We're at the Tick Tock Diner, on the northwest side of 34th and 8th."
Word.
By the time I arrived, D and M had already had drinks and inhaled mozzeralla sticks.
I looked at the menu and decided what I wanted. Fifteen minutes passed and still no waiter. I was getting slightly concerned because I wanted good seats for Batman.
The waiter finally appeared and said "Can I get you anything else?"
We were like "Well, we'd like to order our dinner."
"Oh, right."
"I'd like the Santa Fe omelette," I said, and was met with a look indicating that suddenly I had seven heads.
"The Santa Fe omelette?" I repeated.
Still a blank stare.
I pointed to it on the menu. He shook his head in disbelief and wrote it down. He then said "What toast would you like?"
"What kind do you have?"
"Toast."
"Yeah, but what do you have?"
"All kinds of toast," very judgmentally.
"OK. Well, do you have raisin?"
"No."
"What do you have?"
"You know, toast."
"What kinds do you have?"
All confused "White? Rye?"
"I'll just have white."
Fine.
The food didn't come for a while and we started to get concerned again.
The waiter reappeared and said "Oh, I lost your order. I just don't know where it is. Can you give it to me again?"
We re-ordered.
The food still did not come, nor did our drinks.
He reappeared and said "It's coming soon..." and we said "Um, could we have the waters? And the beer? And could I get some silverware?"
Nothing appeared.
Finally the food came. No beverages. No silverware.
I said "Our beverages? And silverware?"
The beverages came out about 5 minutes later, and still no silverware.
I asked the lady in the booth next to us if I could have her extra set of silverware.
Finally we were able to eat!
The food wasn't bad. We were sitting at a really small booth so I had my toast sort of on the edge of the table with my knife hanging over the edge of the plate. A waitress blew by frantically and knocked the knife off of the plate, into the air, it bounced off of my shirt and then my pants and finally onto the floor.
She got all huffy, as though it was my fault, picked up the knife and stormed off. She didn't apologize, nor did she return with a replacement knife.
Terrible experience all around, and late to Batman Begins.
We ended up having to sit in the second row of a theater with a huge screen. I wasn't too upset about it, as I'd seen Spiderman under similar circumstances and rather enjoyed being that close to the action.
We ended up, however, having to sit in front of some woman who had her three year old daughter with her. First of all - who brings a three year old to see Batman Begins? Second of all - who brings a three year old to see a 9:00 showing of Batman Begins? Third of all - yeah. Needless to say the kid was screaming and making horrified and amused noises throughout the entire movie. Very annoying.
Also annoying was the fact that many people decided that it would be acceptable to talk throughout the movie. There was a huge thug factor at this movie, and I was convinced that a knife fight or shooting would break out. An argument erupted somewhere in the stadium seating about 15 minutes into the movie. Two groups of people literally screaming at each other. What was the fight about? No idea. Probably "Yo, assholes, stop talking" and then "I can do whatever I want!" and then "Shut the fuck up!" A lot of people left entirely, some people switched seats. Mostly people were just screaming and murmering and getting out of hand. I don't know how it was resolved, but the first half hour of the movie is basically lost to me.
Also annoying was the fact that the movie theater was 3 degrees. I had my hoodie zipped all the way and the hood on and then pulled it up over my face and was still shivering the entire time.
Also annoying was the fact that I have been sick. Well, I don't know if I am sick but something has been awry for the past few days, starting with Tuesday when I took a three hour nap in the middle of the day. I have been exhausted, but not like flu exhausted. Like weird internal exhaustion, and today I am exhausted and am sometimes having a fever and sometimes my hands are shaking to the point that I can't label tubes. Weird. I averaged at least one yawn a minute during the movie, and nearly fell asleep a couple of times.
This all being said and having seen this movie under duress, my opinion is: FUCKING AWESOME AMAZING WOW BLAM POW PERFECT!
My thoughts:
1. Christian Bale - best Batman thus far. He was amazing. He played it believably dark and smartly.
2. Katie Holmes - not nearly as annoying as I'd feared. (On a similar note, I saw the preview for Dukes of Hazard and I feel really bad about it, because I think that the casting of Jessica Simpson is goint to prevent anyone from seeing it. Her annoyingness quotient far exceeds the coolness factor of the rest of the movie).
3. Gary Oldman - he somehow managed to not be creepy! Who knew that was even possible? He is endearing and wholesome as the future Commissioner Gordon.
4. Michael Caine as Alfred - ADORABLE. We had to fill out an audience survey and you had to pick your favorite character, and I went with Michael Caine. He is so cute and wonderful in this movie.
5. Cillian Murphy - WOW. He is going to be a huge star. I fell in love with him in 28 Days Later. I had a hard time choosing between him and Michael Caine as my favorite character. He is beautiful. There's something enchanting about his face. He's pretty. And an amazing actor.
6. Morgan Freeman - yeah. Of course he was wonderful. He always is. He is a national treasure. The most exciting thing about Morgan Freeman in this movie is that he is a scientist! He was throwing around "receptor" and other terminology. D became spastic at one point, punched me and said "That's a gas chromatograph (or something to that effect - I don't know anything about chemistry)!" Morgan Freeman was all "I analyzed your blood and receptor content and catalyst and blah blah blah - it was difficult" but then managed to develop an antedote to the chemical in the same day. I love movie science.
7. Other cast members such as Tom Wilkinson, Liam Neeson, Ken Watanabe - all awesome.
8. The strength of this movie is the characters. Everyone is perfect. I can't stop gushing about this movie. I am still high from it.
9. The fight scenes at the beginning between Liam Neeson and Christian Bale are quick and gorgeous.
10. My only complaint might be Gotham itself - it was a little too CGI and shiny.
11. Thematically it was intense - fear and guilt and duty etc. It was tortured without being cheesy.
12. Script - perfect.
Yeah. I could go on and on. Net: I loved it and you must all see it.
That is all.
Wednesday, June 15, 2005
Concentrating
It is difficult to concentrate at work when you know that you will be seeing Batman Begins in a few short hours!!!!
Christian Bale as Batman. Does life get any better? It is bizarre to me that I have had a steady crush on Christian Bale since the early days of Newsies. Tastes change and evolve, yet Christian Bale remains a constant.
Men have come and gone - Corey Haim, William Baldwin, Ralph Fiennes - but Christian Bale persists! YUM.
In other movie news, I watched Maria Full of Grace last night, which is an excellent movie that gave me an ulcer about 10 minutes into it.
OK. I really should work and stop shreaking "BATMAN!" every five minutes.
Christian Bale as Batman. Does life get any better? It is bizarre to me that I have had a steady crush on Christian Bale since the early days of Newsies. Tastes change and evolve, yet Christian Bale remains a constant.
Men have come and gone - Corey Haim, William Baldwin, Ralph Fiennes - but Christian Bale persists! YUM.
In other movie news, I watched Maria Full of Grace last night, which is an excellent movie that gave me an ulcer about 10 minutes into it.
OK. I really should work and stop shreaking "BATMAN!" every five minutes.
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