October 2004 Archives
By the by, these crisps taste like what I imagine pork rinds taste like. If pork rinds were made of soy. Probably not the apple cinnamon ones, though.
I am sad that I will not be able to comment on tonight’s Apprentice, so even though it looks like they're setting up baby Harvard boy, let’s hope Maria and her ginormous flower lapel pin do something exceedingly stupid and get booted the hell off already.
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I know I complained about how early Halloween was starting when the Reese's Pumpkins hit the shelves months ago. But now? None to be found. Pumpkin shortage! --------
We have to fast forward many years before I start remembering us sharing a room when were a bit older. This didn’t work so much as it was a total disaster. I would stake claim to my side of the room by carefully setting up a dividing line made of blocks. He thoughtfully challenged my territory by kicking the blocks across the room and tramping over all my stuff.
This was to begin a long history of me reasoning with my brother and him countering with belligerent displays of disregard. For instance, when my friends were over and he began annoying us, we would tell him to leave us alone. He would think about the request, and more often then not return ten minutes later to streak us.
When we were older, there was the time he locked me out of the house. I will admit that I was potentially acting in a manner that was less than calm and collected when I began beating on the glass window with the heel of my hand, demanding that he unlock the door. Which he did. About 30 seconds after I put my hand through the glass. I got a few cuts, but nothing big. This somehow got chalked up to an episode that my brother won.
That and the time when he hit my face lightly in a fight and my nose (as it was prone to do) started bleeding. He remembers that episode as the time he made my nose bleed. He is proud of this in a little-brother-besting-big-sister kind of way.
We look alike. We look a lot alike. In fact, we’re one of those weird families that all kind of look like each other. People like to tell us that. So it’s easy for me to catch glimpses of myself in him, in the way his eyes shift to the left when you’re talking to him, in the way tenses up when you’re trying to preach at him by disguising the preaching as a good-natured talk, the way he starts flipping the channel when you join him to watch TV even when you went to join him because you knew he was watching the Simpsons.
I’m jealous that he learned to drive standard, that he knows how to mow the lawn, that he has not only learned the secret family toffee recipe before me, but improved it.
I mean, out of all the people in the whole world, he is the only one that was also raised by my parents in the same homes as me. So as far as worldviews go, he and I have the same starting point. I think that’s great.
Hugs and kisses and Happy Birthday, baby brother!
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Talentless, bratty sister riding on the back of only jokingly respected older sister + humiliating public display of inability to react well to surprises + blaming entire thing on band members, AKA the real musicians = complete justification for any Ashlee Simpson-directed snideness and/or ridicule.
--------We actually cheered.
This was partly because of the brilliant editing that led us through this course of events:
Stacy R. is bossy! She asks a lot of stupid questions and then interrupts people!
Wes hates her. The team hates her. Apex Corp. is suddenly launched into glorious winning arc without her barrage of pointless nagging.
Andy loses cell phone.
Stacy R. is overly excited about spiked dog collars and wearing the ugliest, least-dog-washing pair of shoes in existence.
Carolyn makes snide comment about Stacy R. We feel so justified. Carolyn's in our corner: it's only a matter of time, now.
Mosaic loses.
In the initial board room, all talk is about Wes. Where is Stacy R.’s crazy? It’s being kept quiet! Good lord, they don’t talk about her once! We pray she interrupts someone.
In a weak moment back at the penthouse, Wes promises he won’t sell out Stacy R. if she won’t sell him out.
Stacy R. flares her nostrils and they are big. Real big.
Luckily, Wes sells her out real big, too, and we are PROUD.
But suddenly Trump is very concerned about the lost cell phone. Everyone is asking
Wes about his leadership skills.
And just as we’re starting to lose faith, Trump turns on Stacy R.
And the wrath is fiery and great.
Excellent TV watching.
Another fabulous moment: Ivona blaming Jennifer M. for disorganization and “not knowing where the line is between team leader and team player.” Yes, Ivona, unlike your stellar leadership skills. Lest we forget her leading the fried chicken/bloody mary ice cream flavor brainstorming session. Which was nothing if not the portrait of great leadership.
UPDATE: Stacy has blessed us with a webpage. Y'know how when you cut off someone's picture mid-calf, it doesn't do any wonders for their height?
Anyway, you'll notice topic "Dating 101, Dating Tips for Young Professionals" under possible things you can pay her to discuss. Wouldn't that make a great book? (hint hint). Don't YOU want dating tips from Stacy R?
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Mistakes:
Eating a dinner consisting solely of cheese, crackers, penis cake, and 5 martinis.
Thinking burlesque show started at 9:30. In fact, there was a comedy duo on stage when we got there and we were informed dancey people wouldn't start for another two hours. Comedy. Duo. This was not what I had in mind.
Bonuses:
Krista was picked out of the audience to play a Price is Right-type game involving random objects from a cheap convenience store. She correctly guessed the orange cleaner was cheaper than the Mexican marshmallows. T-shirts and posters are won.
Comedy duo broke for a few minutes and we were treated to Albino Andy, who sang "Crimson and Clover" for us. We were just drunk enough to think this was the best thing EVER and immediately decided we needed to find karaoke asap.
Revelations:
"Copacabana" is a SAD song. Lola ends up with faded feathers! And a drinking problem! Clearly, I haven't listened to this song thoroughly while sober.
It doesn't matter that there are male and female, featured and chorus parts to "Summer Nights." You can sing the whole song from start to finish doing all the parts.
Miriam prefers Britney, but went for the Jackson Five. And surprise! Liz likes singing along to lil' Michael, too! Are there no end to the songs that are great for karaoke? (Answer: Pink Floyd, "Comfortably Numb")
Ratio of glasses of water consumed by Krista and myself to alcoholic beverages: 1:20
Dancing scenes initiated:
We might have walked into an empty bar basement, but no one sees four halos and a set of wedding veiled devil horns head down the stairs without KNOWING that a party is about be thrown down. I spent approximately five minutes with each bartender telling them how I had good friends who worked at this bar and isn't that FUNNY, and they spent approximately five minutes each nodding politely and ignoring me completely.
We all danced. A lot.
Mistakes that came back to bite me in the ass later:
Remember dinner? Well apparently when you follow up that dinner with roughly 47 drinks, there ways your stomach has of suggesting that perhaps there were wiser decisions you could have made. Luckily, I was home by that point and coherent enough to have this discussion in the bathroom.
Bachelorette gear that make hilarious cat toys the next day:
Fuzzy halos, tiny rubber penis that went on a straw. Okay, I had to take the penis away because that was just too much.
Obligatory parting shot of drink container. Because what would this post be without one last giant penis?
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Unrelated, but my site meter came up with a hit from someone who had my page translated into Spanish. ¿Usted sabe cuánto es un molde para pasteles del pene?
This is totally how I'm learning Spanish.
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Here is the homepage. Try not to get a seizure trying to watch the spinning horse statue or figuring out that the line animation is a bucking animal. In case you, like J, are confused by the graphic next to the “What’s New” column, be assured that it is a picture of a gnu and in fact a hilarious pun. Why do I know it is a gnu? Because I remember jokes from first grade. I have never in fact spoken of a gnu in a non-pun context.
So What’s Gnu? you ask? Well, football! High school football. The Riders. And also the marching band that plays at the games. This is also newsworthy. J says it is not an exaggeration or simply the proclivity of this webmaster—that indeed, the town focuses almost solely around the high school football team.
Perhaps you would like to scroll your curser over the side bar pictures. If you do, you can watch the icon of the head explode. Fun! Also you can look through the shops and think that Joe’s kind of looks like a fun place to go.
Unfortunately, J’s brother squashed my excitement by telling me Joe’s does not so much exist as not exist at all. This seems like cruel fake advertising.
Also on the side bar, you have the opportunity to take a virtual drive through the town. J and I had a very “In the Year 2000” date when he directed me around town while on the phone with each other. He wanted to show me his grandfather’s house, which made it onto the tour. The driving simulation was SO real, that we even had a fight that went something like:
J: Turn right at 400 block heading south.
L: I don’t see 400 block.
J: It’s right there! Oh you passed it.
L: J, I can’t see where you are looking at.
J: Ok, go back to Main Street and turn right.
L: There’s nothing there! What are you talking about?
J: U-turn, u-turn!
L: Ah, I almost hit that man and his dog!
I am looking forward to driving in a real car through the real town, which I can’t imagine will be as stressful as the virtual drive.
In other gnus (oh ha ha), I am back in touch with my old best friend from middle school. We went our separate ways towards high school, but found each other again through the wonders of email. This is good fun. Get ready for an upcoming post on Totally Embarrassing Things We Did For Fun in 6th Grade.
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1.
One sweltering July evening, J and I decided to throw an impromptu dinner party for a couple of friends. As we are vegetarians and these particular friends have their own pickiness patterns, we had to scrounge around awhile to pick out things that were both easy and didn’t require a lot of turning-the-hot-oven-on-for-long-periods-of-time consideration. Skimming through the giant cookbook, we settled on a fancy salad, stuffed potato skins, and a chilled avocado mint soup.
This avocado mint soup is by far the WEIRDEST thing I have ever made. While it sounded fancy and fun, we were to quickly learn that there are consequences for mixing pureed avocado with vegetable broth. Weird consequences. Warm, the soup tasted good. Chilled, the soup tasted, not bad, but exactly like chicken. Like cold chicken chowder.
As vegetarians, we are prone to saying things taste like meat when in meat-eating reality, the said food bares little resemblance to meat. But when our meat-eating friends came over and tentatively sipped the soup, there was a unanimous “cold chicken gravy” consensus. So, FYI: creamed avocado + broth = chicken.
2.
While in Tulsa, I was chatting with my grandma about New York life. Thinking I was going to blow her mind, I told her all about FreshDirect and how we do all of our grocery shopping online now. She considered this. “You mean you just tell them what you want and they deliver it to you?” I said yes. “Well, that’s exactly how we did it when I was a girl. You called up the store and told them your order and they’d come bring it to you.” I hadn’t considered this. Once again, technology has completed a full circle.
3.
Another Tulsa story. We had decided to go see a dollar movie (Dodgeball) one afternoon when we didn’t have a massive feeding on the schedule. We were warned ahead of time by my aunt to be careful—the theater had a reputation for being seedy. Now, living in New York, I KNOW seedy. I pay $10 for seedy. But this theater? Had a chandelier in the expansive lobby, which was flanked by arcade games. And the movie cost one dollar. (!!!) Though we hadn’t expected it to be crowded, we found the theater completely empty. Except for one lone man, sitting in the middle of the sea of seats, wearing a large, white cowboy hat. And I thought, here we are: in Tulsa.
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As I have mentioned before, my friend is in the new John Sayles movie, "Silver City", playing Daryl Hannah's son. Though it's not a big part, he impressed the critics enough to get a mention from Ebert Roeper.
The last time I had a friend in a movie it was seventh grade. The movie was "Ladybugs" and the friend was playing soccer against Jonathan Brandis. Needless to say, another friend and I, who had autographed pictures of JB from his fan club, were VERY IMPRESSED and cheered loudly for the three seconds she was on screen.
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The Donald: As project manager, you’re allowed to bring either two or three people into the board room with you. What’ll it be?
Bush: I’ll take two. Kerry and Saddam.
The Donald: Sounds personal! Okay then, I’ll see you three later.
(later)
TD: Ok Bush, why did you bring these two in here?
B: Well Kerry’s been a flip-flopper since the beginning and Saddam was really a failure on this mission.
Caroline: But what about Osama? Wasn’t he in charge of décor? The area you were rated the lowest on and which caused you to lose?
B: Uh, but overall, Saddam has really been a thorn in my side.
TD: So, it IS personal.
Saddam: Mr. Trump, it’s totally personal.
TD: I wasn’t talking to you. Kerry, who would you fire?
Kerry: Bush, absolutely. He was a disorganized mess this entire mission. Terrible leadership skills. And Osama was really the one who messed this whole thing up for us, so I have no idea why he’s not in here.
B: I think Saddam has not done well since the beginning. He’s a major screw-up, not to mention totally annoying.
TD: But for this particular task, it wasn’t Saddam who messed you up--it was Osama. You made a big mistake. This is an easy one. Bush, you’re fired.
Before the debates, we were at a big barbeque at 826NYC to celebrate the beginning of the school year. I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many people in the place all at once and it was a little crazy. The backyard was packed, so I made my way into the main room, where I consumed approximately 7 cookies, a cream puff, a loaf of chocolate babka, cupcakes, donuts, and pizza. Oh, and a diet Sprite. We sat around chatting for a bit in this room before we were herded into the store area with instructions to watch the kids.
Oh. My. God.
Imagine if you will, a skillfully designed store, colorful and stocked to the brim with costumes, spy equipment, light-up accessories, ping pong ball guns, targets, masks, capes, a cape tester, and a revolving hidden door. Now imagine the place also occupied by a dozen unsupervised kids hyped up on sugar and encouraged to be superheroes. You see why I had to leave that room immediately. I think it went something like, “Oh, don’t point that gun at people! Oh, careful of the mannequins! No, the cane isn’t a sword! I don’t know how much the anti-matter diffuser pellet bracelet is! I gotta go.”
But I did learn that I am thanked in the new McSweeney’s, which will be my first thank you in anything published. Awesome.
Looks like I'm not the only one who'd like to see the Donald step in.
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