I'm Out

I am taking off tomorrow morning for Molonius's bachelorette party.  Her lovely bridesmaids have done a lot of work to make this a special weekend, but I wouldn't be me if I weren't paranoid that I have forgotten to take care of something crucial.  We'll find out soon.  If everything turns out well (as I am very hopeful it will), I can then start worrying about her bridal shower the following weekend.  I do not have a a future in party planning.

I should have bought a white Kangol for this weekend.  Dang.

About Last Night

Went to the Sox/Tigers game, then after watched the Celts lose in OT (bummer), Kings beat the Devils (predicted the Kings to win the Stanley Cup August 2011, beating the Bruins in the finals) and got to meet MTV's Cara Maria.  Win-lose-win-win evening.  I really hope the Celts don't get swept by the Heat and lose the next 2 games at home.  Scary.  Not sure if the Celts can play much better than they did last night.  I have the Heat winning this series 4-1.  I hope the Celts steal one on Friday or Sunday here in Boston. 

Friscalating Dusklight

I'm listening to Terry Gross interview Wes Anderson on Fresh Air.  The creators of Stuff White People Like would get a lot of mileage out of my leisure activities.  Please imagine air quotes around "activities." 


(Side note: I had to grab the link to Stuff White People Like and while I was on the page for 30 seconds, this discussion of Anthropologie popped out at me-- "It is the store equivalent of a Wes Anderson film."  It IS and if I had the dough, I'd fill my house with its wares.  I haven't been to that blog in ages and I locked in on a Wes Anderson reference in less than a minute.  Side note to the side note: That blog made me self-conscious about loving "The Wire."  And also about how I spend approximately 87% of my free time.)


I'm looking forward to seeing Moonrise Kingdom, obviously.  I was obsessed with The Royal Tenenbaums shortly after I graduated from college.  I appreciated every aspect of that movie-- the writing, the acting, the costumes, the music, DEFINITELY the sets.  I don't imagine I'll ever live in a home where it would be appropriate, but I covet Margot Tenenbaum's zebra wallpaper.  And I kind of want Richie Tenenbaum's tent too.  Maybe I'll just build myself a blanket fort and substitute my MacBook Pro for Richie's record player.  Or maybe I'll listen to NPR and fall asleep.  I'll probably do the latter.

Spent

I'm grateful that The Dude is keeping the blog afloat.  I'm too tired to write about an embarrassing and/or traumatic childhood experience tonight.  So I'll throw out a few recommendations and close up shop.

1) The Judge John Hodgman podcast

You know The Judge from his stint as a PC on Mac commercials, from his segments on "The Daily Show," or (less likely) from the canceled HBO program "Bored to Death."  He mediates weird disputes and he makes me laugh.

2) Karl Pilkington programs

I've been watching a lot of "The Ricky Gervais Show" and "An Idiot Abroad."  When I first started listening to Karl on podcasts I thought he was a character.  And not in the Nana D "he's a character" way.  Rather, I thought his ignorance was an act.  I am becoming increasingly convinced that this strange dude is real.  He makes me laugh.

3) Final recommendation-- Don't watch We Bought a Zoo.  I didn't think Cameron Crowe and Matt Damon would let me down.  I was wrong.  Instead you should revisit Say Anything or Almost Famous for Crowe or this Eurotrip clip for Damon.  (Okay, he's been in better movies, but this clip cracks me up.  Mostly because The Dude and I were so shocked to see him show up in the movie when we rented it, but also because the song is undeniably catchy.)

Wow, is 'The Catalina' serious?

New TV show on the CW called 'The Catalina' that is a combination of The Real World, Jersey Shore and The Apprentice.  The premise of the show is that its a "reality series following the daily life and nightly adventures of the staff of the Catalina Hotel in Miami Beach."  This includes the front-desk staff, maids, bartenders, pool servers, waitresses and managers.  The employees alone are out there, then you factor in the clientele that frequent Miami Beach and this show  makes for interesting entertainment.  It has to be fake and it is already ridiculous.  Definitely going to watch this until Spurs/Thunder at 9pm.  I have to remind myself to switch back and forth between the Sox/Tigers game since I'm going tomorrow night, weather permitting.

The Staff, who seem to be either alcoholics, bi-polar, sex addicts or all of the above.  This show is awesome.

The NBA is fixed.

Technical on Ray Allen, KG and now Doc Rivers for no reason.  Wow.

Cue Kanye West..........

"David Stern doesn't care about the Celtics."

33

The Dude just called me to complain about the Celtics/Heat game we are both watching.  On the plus side, I'm not likely to have any regrets about turning in early on this one.  During this time of year, I always think back fondly to watching the Bulls dominate the playoffs throughout the '90s.  My obsession with the Bulls was so intense that my parents used to allow me to make a bed on the couch and watch the games after the rest of the family had gone to sleep.  That was a big deal in a house that was pitch black by about 9:30 each night.  (When I used to stay up to watch "Party of Five" from 9-10 in high school, I was ALWAYS the only one up in the house at the conclusion of each episode.)

My family always rooted against the Bulls.  I remember even my mum getting involved in cheering for the Suns in the '93 finals.  Charles Barkley has turned out to be hilarious, so I am more forgiving of that decision in retrospect.  At the time, I associated him with the "spitting incident."  I had a bedroom that was decked out with a Dream Team poster, a Pippen poster, and a Bulls pennant, so my family's animosity towards the Bulls felt personal.  I won't even repeat my father's nickname for my favorite player.

Regardless of the lack of support for Chicago in my childhood home, I had a blast watching them win six championships.  I nearly named my cat Weasley "Pippen" when I brought him home, but decided to continue the Harry Potter theme I had started with Luna.  I'm glad to say my cousins got a kitten not long after and named him Pippen.  I'm working on assembling a feline version of Dumbledore's Army and they are putting together an all-cat Dream Team with Pippen and Magic.  I approve.

Celtics/Heat

Ray Allen should not be playing in this series.  Your "best shooter" on the team who is injured with bone spurs is missing wide open 3s.  He is older/slow and Wade can beat him 9 times out of 10.  Paul Pierce is taking crappy fade away jumpers in traffic with 2 dudes in his face.  I think the Celts will lose this one 4 games to 1.  Sad/lame and time to break up the "Big 3".

1st quarter is done.  Lebron has 13 points, the whole Celtics team has 14.  Pierce is 1 for 6.  Rondo has 4 turnovers.  Classic.  Someone on the Celtics needs to channel Larry Bird in the 1982 game against the 76ers and choke Lebron out as Larry tried to against Dr. J.


Editor's Note:  Can't find that specific clip on Youtube, but this one is decent. 

Memorial Day......?

Based on the online chatter it seems as though the youth of today do not know the difference between Memorial Day and Veterans Day.  People are thanking those who are serving in our military and keeping us safe (currently and alive).  Incorrect, that is what Veterans Day is for - to thank the living.  Today should be a day of remembrance for the men and women who lost their lives serving in the armed forces.  Generally that includes visits to national war memorials and throwing down some flags at cemeteries.  Herself lives 2 blocks down from a large cemetery and I'm sure she has been there since 7am cleaning grave sites and planting flags.

For most it kicks off the official start of summer and usually folks throw a BBQ.  For me personally, it remind me of the yearly parade at that end of my road growing up.  Being in the parade was the worst says you had to get to the high school early, line-up and wait to get the parade going, then walk a decent distance on a generally warm day in a baseball uniform. 

On that note, I'm going back to bed for another hour or so.  The GD birds started going ape$h!t around 5:55am this morning and pretty much just stopped.  I need a water gun filled with bleach to take them out and then I could have a day of remembrance about how they kept waking me up early on weekends.

Hot as a stuck pig in hell

High temps and high humidity weekend here in Boston.  Luckily Herself gave me her A/C window unit as she now has Central A/C.  I'm currently sweating out last night's bacon cheeseburger.  Smells pretty good and is making me hungry.  Off to shower then meet Herself, Trish and UStefon for lunch. 

She's Got a Wang On

Probably the best scene from a little known but excellent movie.  I can't believe Coupe de Ville still isn't available on DVD.  You'd think that Patrick Dempsey's "McDreamy" fame would lead to the distribution of this classic.

Daniel Stern's involvement in this flick, the Home Alone movies, and "The Wonder Years" has earned him my undying love.  If his narration in the final few minutes of "The Wonder Years" doesn't get to you, you're made of stone.

Anyway, do your best to see Coupe de Ville.  It is worth the effort.

A Period of Very Poor Decision Making

The summer before I began junior high school I decided to get a fabulous new haircut.  I’d had a bob with bangs for most of my youth and I settled on a shortly cropped ‘do to usher in my new era of life.  In my mind, my new haircut was going to make me look like Chynna Phillips of Wilson Phillips. Of course it would have helped if I had her pixie face and blonde hair.  At the time I had not yet accepted that I was obviously a Carnie rather than a Chynna.  The haircut was a disaster and I started junior high school looking like an awkward, ginger hermaphrodite.  I added a full set of braces to the mix later that year, with, wait for it. . . . headgear.  (Okay, I only had to wear the headgear at night but that meant busting it out for sleepovers.)

My first order of business as a junior high school student was joining the soccer team.  The team was composed of students from grades six through eight.  It was also essentially a boys' team.  Two of my sixth-grade girl friends joined and there was one eighth-grade girl on the team as well.  The rest of the 20+ members were boys, many of whom were in eighth grade.  The difference in skills between a 13-year-old athletic boy and an 11-year-old tremendously uncoordinated girl are vast.  I had never played on a soccer team before and I can safely say that I was the absolute worst player on this team.  They had won the league the year before and were counting on a repeat.  I spent the season warming the bench and nursing a serious crush on one of my eighth-grade male teammates.  I also experienced several in a never-ending line of humiliations which, strung together, form my life.

When my three female teammates and I got ready each afternoon in the locker room, we did so with the field hockey team.  They wore skirts and matching braids.  We wore boys' uniforms and two of us had dude haircuts.  (The eighth-grade girl seemed to be a baby lesbian, but what do I know-- we had matching hair at the time and I'm the one who ended up going to Wellesley.)  If the field hockey team had wrapped up their day by the time our practice ended, we were locked out of the girls' locker room.  On one such day after a home game we decided to try the back entrance to the locker room.  Finding an open door, my teammates made their way down the stairs.  I was bringing up the rear when a janitor sprang into action, yelling at me to stop and barring me from the entrance.  As a gal who never ever got in trouble in school, I was horrified.  I started sputtering about the main entrance being locked when the janitor cut me off, explaining, "Boys are not allowed in the girls' locker room!"  My face was stop-sign red in an instant.  I could not bring myself to explain my gender.  It was too awful.  My friends, having realized I was no longer with them, came back up and laughingly told the janitor that I was a girl.  His confusion and apologies only made it harder to keep from crying.

One of my teammates was also my best friend at the time.  She was merciless and I had no doubt that she was going to share this story with the rest of the team, which she did.  She also screamed out the identity of my crush that year during lunch.  I don't know why having a best friend who was mean to me seemed to make sense at that time in my life.  It was a period of very poor decision-making.  (And we're back to the haircut.)  The other sixth-grade girl on the team came to be one of my closest friends in junior high school and in a display of friendship at a school dance that year, she asked my crush, her older brother's friend, if he would dance with me.  It was supposed to be a surprise, but I found out and watched from about six feet away as he flatly refused.  And that is where we get to the real tragedy of this post.  That poor guy has had to spend the last 20 years living with the knowledge that he missed out on ALL OF THIS:

Would you like a wake up call in the morning, sir?

I was laying in bed in my hotel room at 1am last night and it hit me that the last 8 years I've spent 3 to 4 months out of the year in a hotel or corporate apartment.  I've always known and thought about that fact, but it was really odd to think about it in a normal person/career sense.  That is 3 years out of the last 8 years staying/sleeping in odd places where thousands of other people have slept.  It is also weird to think some people only sleep away from their home a handful of nights a year.  I need to calculate the number of days I've spent in a taxi, in an airport, on an airplane or in a rental car.  All of that time wasted and I could have learned Mandarin by now. 

Once you leave college, your main focus in life becomes work, but I don't think it was ever in the plan for work to be the focal point.  Greed and money have really taken over society as the main driver and I'm another willing victim of capitalism. 

Cue Creed's kick-ass tune with pertinent and profound lyrics (saw them live last month in Boston with LDR and Dirty Tim - awesome concert live, hadn't seen them since 2000 in Portland, ME):

J P Smith

. . . strikes again.  Boooo.

Child Abuse

In the course of emailing a friend with small children yesterday, I meandered onto the topic of swimming lessons.  My friend has a toddler and a baby and I was thinking about my old swimming instructor who used to toss her baby into the swimming pool at the Boys and Girls Club.  The baby would float and paddle, and was better at moving inside the pool than she was at walking outside of it.  I saw my instructor heave her baby into the pool many times, but the shock of the act was not diminished upon repeated viewings.  In my memories, she LAUNCHED the baby into the pool, but looking back I realize it was probably more like this.  Regardless, this swimming technique did not inspire the title of today's post.  The horrors that the Dude and I experienced while taking swimming lessons were, I submit, the real child abuse.

Our parents signed us up for swimming lessons because of the supposed health benefits to young asthmatics.  We started in the smaller, heated pool with the baby-tossing instructor.  I can clearly picture our instructor, but I can't recall her name.  Let's call her Barbara.  The thing about Barbara that none of her former students will ever forget is that she had a huge, unruly, black bush that could not be contained by her bathing suits.  Week after week, the novice swimmers of Central Maine were co-taught by Barbara's bush.  Although these lessons occurred in the late '80s, perhaps an era before fastidious personal landscaping was the norm, I feel confident that Barbara flouts modern trends and still rocks a natural and abundant bush.

On top of the public display of pubes during each lesson, we were then forced to shower in the locker rooms.  I believe The Dude was excused from showering because our mum couldn't go into the men's locker room with him.  I was not so lucky, though I will admit my mother made sure I was covered and afforded privacy while showering and changing.  Not all young ladies were concerned with modesty.  One girl a little older than me and a few sandwiches short of a picnic used to change right in front of the door to the locker room, exposing herself to the hallway as people entered and exited.  She was my first illustration of early puberty, and probably The Dude's as well since he was always standing right outside the door, and I was highly disturbed by what I saw.  Unfortunately the scene in the hallway was often far more upsetting.

I am not proud to admit this.  I know talking about it paints me in a very unflattering, though completely accurate, light.  Some Saturdays after our swimming lessons wrapped up, a group of special needs adults would be waiting in the hallway.  I suppose they had their own pool time scheduled for later in the day, though I can't remember ever seeing them in swimsuits or actually in the pool area.  This group was severely mentally, and in some cases physically, disabled.  One of the men had a disfigured face.  Some of his features were enlarged, including part of his lip and a giant tongue that always hung out of his mouth.  I was absolutely terrified of this group.  I either told my mother how I felt or she had functioning eyes and saw my fear, and subsequently I was on the receiving end of a talk about everyone being different and how we should be accepting and kind.  So when someone from the special needs group would talk to me or maybe even reach out and touch me, I would try to respond in an appropriate way rather than peeing my pants, as I was inclined to do.  These brief hallway encounters did a number on me.  Even as an adult, driving by the abandoned Boys and Girls Club building causes a feeling of dread to wash over me.

After several years, my parents finally allowed us to stop taking swimming lessons.  Their goal had been to strengthen our lungs, but here's what I really took away from those lessons:  some unwanted knowledge about human biology, nightmares, and Plantar warts.  Thanks, Mum and Dad.

Herself has passed on

.......blogging the last few days due to an intense work schedule.  Based on her working 12 days in a row with no breaks/weekends, etc, I don't blame her and would do the same.  That being said, the immense pressure for me to hold it down on here solo has caused my irritable bowel syndrome to flair up something fierce.  I now need to take a few days off from blogging to let my chocolate starfish recover.

This is depressing

Watch this for 1 minute.  Unreal.


http://www.cnbc.com/id/47388424

Bball this evening

Playing for my buddy's bball team this evening as they are short a few guys.  Luckily for me on this team I will be the 3rd tallest player, which is good and bad.  Good as I don't have to waste most of my energy fighting with a dude down low and bad cause I will have to play the 3 and hit some outside jumpers.  I haven't been big into outside Js for 2 years now since I'm always playing down low.  I went down to the local courts on Friday and Saturday.  I had 2 old outdoor bballs, so I trashed those and bought a Spalding Never Flat ball.  You don't have to inflate it in the first year from purchase date and in fact if you do, it waives the warranty.  So far so good, but it sucks not being able to pump up your own ball to the desired air pressure.  I'm watching the Pacers/Heat game right now to get pumped up.  I'm probably going to channel a young UDave and just jack up as many shots as possible.  I also look like the PMAN with my ankle brace, knee brace and 2 sweatbands.  Even have my Under Armour sleeveless under the jersey for protection.  Watching this NBA game I realized more and more guys are wearing mouth-guards.  Seems like NBA players didn't wear them as much years ago and you didn't see guys missing teeth.  I probably should pick one up next time I'm out since I do have a tendency to UJohn it up down low sometimes.


Editor's Note (5/22/12):  Not sure who exactly which of the bros I played like now that I review the stats.  And no, I didn't keep my own stats, the league keeps them based on the # of your jersey and posts them online.  I'd link the site, but you need a username and password.  Anyway, 8 points, 16 boards, 5 assists,  2 blocks and 3 steals.  My defense was stellar, so maybe I was The Boss (Big M).  I think The Boss scored a lot more points and probably passed way better than I do, though.  I'll call myself Dennis Rodman then, due to my incredible defense.  I'm the best evah!

'Michael Jordan, I'm coming for you, my man.  My style is impetuous. My defense is impregnable, and I'm just ferocious. I want your heart. I want to eat his children. Praise be to Allah!'

Mick Jagger hosting the season finale of SNL?

My sentiments exactly, Chef, until I watched the episode this morning.  I found Mick to be a bad choice since he isn't funny or an actor, but I was wrong.  Great season finale and solid job by Mick Jagger.  This is the last year for Kristen Wiig, Andy Samberg and Jason Sudeikis and they are the main players in this cast.  Nice final episode for them and a good send-off for Kristen at the end.  Samberg and Parnell revisited the original Digital Short with Lazy Sunday Part 2.  Stefon showed up on Weekend Update and Jon Hamm and Steve Martin were part of the episode.  Good stuff.  On top of that Amy Poehler, Rachel Dratch and Chris Kattan showed up at the end randomly.  Now time for some links:

Lazy Sunday 2

Stefon

Wiig Tribute/Ending

Flying V!

I really enjoyed this article about The Might Ducks from The Onion's A.V. Club.  Those movies are right up there with The Sandlot for me.  (Okay, not so much D3, but the first two were huge favorites.)  The Dude and I watched The Might Ducks, D2, and The Sandlot non-stop in junior high school.  I'm disappointed that the article didn't mention Julie "The Cat" Gaffney, who hailed from Bangor, Maine.  She wasn't one of my favorite characters, but I liked the Maine connection.

This is my shortest post since day one and I am coasting by on linking to someone else's thoughts about movies I loved.  If I had any gas left in the tank I'd spend at least a paragraph discussing how I thought Charlie Conway was a wiener and how weird it was to become obsessed with Pacey Whitter just a few years later.  Another time.  I am hitting the sack.  Tomorrow is day 6 of my 12 day work week-- almost hump day!

Gyros

Holy crap, I can't stop ordering/eating Gyros.  Not sure how I went this long without getting into these.  Lamb, onion, lettuce, tomato, tzatziki sauce all wrapped up in pita.  Good times.

Losing my mind

Took me 1 hour and 5 minutes, out of the 1 hour and 32 minute run-time to realize that I had seen the movie I was currently watching, Haywire.  What the crap....Alzheimers at the age of 30?  Pretty sad I'll never get that 1 hour and 5 minutes back.  Unlike the times I've purposely watched episodes of The Office (UK version), Arrested Development, Trailer Park Boys or Parks and Rec over and over again, this was an accident and not an enjoyable one (such as ripping one by accident in public and although knowing the sound was loud, feeling good about the fact that the smell is minimal and the humidity in my drawers is non-existent).

A solid radio station had its last day on the air today, WFNX.  Apparently the tolerance for Stone Temple Pilots, Pearl Jam, Soundgarden, Alice in Chains and Nirvana is very low in Boston these days.  Not sure why 90s grunge and alt rock was considered by many and the media as music no one cares for these days.  I enjoy all music except country, but most of the alt rock bands of today blow.  The newest 2 bands I've listened to are Kings of Leon and The Killers and they aren't new at all anymore.

Speaking of losses, I'm sure Trish was devastated once she heard Donna Summer died.  Trish was a big Donna fan and I heard a lot of her tunes over the years.

Call me David Letterman, cause I really phoned it in big time with this blog.

Sing Along

I know I am leaning heavily on video clips, but what can I say-- I have a pretty boring life and I think selected movie scenes are more entertaining that stories about my cats.  I have a family wedding coming up this summer and for some reason I started thinking about the scene from My Best Friend's Wedding where the whole group sings "I Say A Little Prayer for You."  I've loved that scene since I saw it at the cinema with my mum fifteen years ago.

There aren't enough opportunities for sing alongs in regular life.  The Dude and our cousins (one of whom is the bride in the family wedding I mentioned) were unabashed public singers during our tape era.  We used to record ourselves first on cassette tapes and then on video tapes when we got together.  I can remember singing the theme to "The Brady Bunch" at the top of our lungs in a McDonald's once.  Other memorable sing alongs were a family rendition of "The Twelve Days of Christmas" at my grandfather and step-grandmother's Christmas party many years ago.  My uncle, Binky, took the "five golden rings" part of that song and sung it in his trademark falsetto.  And the final memory that comes to mind is singing the theme song to "Full House" at the wedding reception of a college friend.  She lived in San Francisco, so adults who had grown up watching TGIF programming were obligated to break into that song while talking about sightseeing around the city.

Here are a few of my favorite movie sing alongs to inspire me and the legion of BLATC readers (a few of Binky's brothers) to make 2012 the year of the impromptu group song:

"I Say a Little Prayer for You" from My Best Friend's Wedding

"Day-O" from Beetlejuice

"Tiny Dancer" from Almost Famous

Modern Problems

The Dude:  The internet was the worst thing to happen to people who are hypochondriacs, but the best thing to happen to people who are porn-obsessed.  Talk about being pulled in two directions.

I Just Hate You

Yesterday I was reading one of my favorite blogs and saw a post about Will Smith that featured his wife Jada in several photos.  I can't stand Jada Pinkett Smith.  My disdain for her is so strong that I even like The Fresh Prince himself less because of their marriage.  I cannot explain my feelings for JPS, I just know that when I came across photos of her, the first thing that popped into my head was Corky St. Clair's famous line:

And since I'm taking shots at the Smith family today, here's a photo of maybe my favorite celebrity family-- the Poehler-Arnetts.  (I love a ginger baby.) 

Leslie Knope + Gob Bluth = Perfection

Holy Schnikes

I'm in the Men's Room rocking a #1 this morning when a dude comes in, heads to the stall and immediately plants himself down without any preparation.  Guy didn't even roll out some TP to wipe down the seat, let alone line it with TP or EVEN BETTER, pull out one of the toilet seat liners that are stationed behind the toilet.  I don't understand that mentality in the least bit.  You have some guys who go into the stall and whiz with the seat down and get some spray on there.  Each time I use a stall I probably spend more time creating my seat of cleanliness than I did on my 6th grade egg drop project.  You do the TP wipe of the seat, then line the seat with TP and throw the toilet seat liner on top of that.  Anything less would be uncivilized, right Sir Charles?

Threat Number One

Dad: "Should I check 'cheeseburger' today?"

Me: "Cheeseburger. . . ." (laughing)

Dad: "Cheeseburger, cheeseburger, Pepsi, no Coke."

Me: still laughing

Dad: "Anything new on there?"

Me: "Yep."

Dad: "One or both of you?"

Me: "Both."

Dad: "I'll have to check that out."

Totally unrelated. . . .

I'm usually not that into potty humor, but the story that starts 4 minutes and 30 seconds in killed me.

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Stories from the road

Driving from Boston to CT and back each week has been an eye opener for me in terms of how terrible most people drive.  Not quite sure when a Yield sign became a Stop sign or when staying in your lane became so difficult.  I blame a lot of the driving issues these days on cell phones.  This guy today driving in front of me was fluctuating between 60 mph and 75 mph due to reading a text, then responding.  That also brings me to a similar issue that I would encounter while flying.  As soon as the plane lands everyone jumps on their cell phone to call and tell someone they just landed.  Not sure that is necessary and on a packed plane that can be quite loud and annoying.  The real good times occur when the person decides to get into a fight with their significant other over the phone....in a crowded airplane.  I know that this person doesn't know anyone on the airplane and most likely will never see any of us ever again, but what the heck happened to self-respect and privacy?  I'm pretty sure I need to stop traveling/get off of the road after 8 solid years because I'm really not trying to pull a Seinfeld with observational humor.  It is more of an angry Seinfeld bit with observational anger and annoyance.

Moral of the story - I don't text and drive, since #1 is it extremely dangerous and #2 it is illegal in both MA and CT and should really be illegal in all states.  Plus I don't want the last thing I read before dying in a car accident to be this little gem from one of my buddies:

"Made a bad food decision last night. Had the new Taco Bell Doritos taco and paying for it big time this morning."

It's Getting Hot in Herrrrrre

Every so often when I hop on my morning bus, I find that the driver and I have very different definitions of comfort.  This morning's ride to the train was hotter than Hades.  I have such a low heat tolerance that I usually start panicking the second I start to feel moisture on my upper lip.  We hit every red light on the short drive and all I could do was frantically look around the packed bus to see if anyone else was visibly in distress.  The answer was no.  The driver herself was wearing what looked to be a toasty sweater.  By contrast, I was wearing a light maxi dress and was baking like a toasted cheeser.  (I'm going to work that phrase into every single post this summer.)  If I live long enough to reach menopause, I am going to be an absolute nightmare.  There, you've been warned.

While I must admit that the maxi dress I am sporting today is crazy comfy, I have qualms about wearing it.  I ordered a couple online and returned one that was so baggy and shapeless that it screamed, "I have given up on life."  I kept the one that was not a fabric manifestation of depression, but I fear it tells another story, namely, "I'm on my way to Lamaze class."  It is safe to say that the empire-waisted maxi dress is not a style that is particularly flattering to "sturdy" gals such as myself.  Yet I shall continue to wear it, knowing full well that doing so makes me look like I'm in my second trimester.  And here is why:  This is a garment to slip into on days when even an elasticized waist seem too restrictive.  There's no waist at all, just a circus tent of fabric cascading from my chest.  It is glorious.

For our one confirmed loyal reader (slash heckler), I would like to point out that I did not include any links, photos, or videos in this post.  Instead you were treated to a temperature-related complaint and a half-baked fashion discussion from the least fashionable person on the planet.  Now you know-- criticism will be punished.

Like Looking in a Mirror

I stopped eating animals a few months ago in hopes that I would soon be built like one.  I'm still waiting for my super buff physique to kick in.

Speaking of physically fit individuals, I'm sending good thoughts to my father, who has injured his back.  Unlike The Green Mile up there, he isn't on a killer vegetarian diet, and is therefore susceptible to aging and other omnivore problems.  Here is a quick and easy suggestion for how to relieve your back pain, Dad:

Last night's SNL

Best SNL of the year last night:

StayFree maxi pads: When you have your monthly boo-boo, put one of these near your hoo-hoo.

StayFree maxi pads: Its the downstairs patch for your baby-hatch.

StayFree maxi pads: I see London, I see China, I see one very happy vagina.

StayFree maxi pads: When your uterine lining looks like the elevator from The Shining.

SNL 100th Digital Short

Love Natalie Portman and Michael Bolton is the man.

Happy Mother's Day, y'all!

Mummy's Day

I know the many, many fans of Baking Like A Toasted Cheeser were disappointed to find no new blogs yesterday.  The Dude and I were celebrating our soon-to-be cousin's MBA and forgot to update.  You nearly missed out on new content again today, as we have been celebrating our mother-- albeit individually and approximately 180 miles from her.  So in honor of the lady who birthed this super-sized baby (or as she has lovingly referred to me for 30+ years, a 10-pound watermelon), please enjoy the musical stylings of the brothers Gibb:

Yo I gotta have sex tonight!

That's not happening.

Disclaimer:  I'm not feeling very humorous today.  Might be due to the tough loss in my men's league bball game last night, or the fact that I'm sore from that game and have my first men's league soccer game at 9am tomorrow.  I haven't touched a soccer ball in almost a year since I took the winter off from indoor soccer for the first time since 2005.  Last night in bball I had to guard a guy who was 6'6" 255 lbs.  As a guy who is 6'4" 228 lbs, you don't realize how much you can get pushed around until a legit big man shows up on the court.  The guy was pushing me around like a rag doll under the hoop during rebound opportunities and also when he posted up on me.  I feel more tired and more sore from scraping with that dude than running 5 miles.

Tonight I'm keeping it low key since I'm sore like an 80 year old man.  Here is a look into this awesome and entertaining Friday night this 30 year old single guys has in store for himself (and yes, I made this exact list for myself on a piece of paper cause I enjoy crossing things off lately for a weird reason):

• Complete 2 weeks worth of work expense reports (GET GET GET GET GET, GET THAT PAPER!)

• Do the dishes
• Laundry (washer, dryer, fold and put away)
• Walk over to CVS to scoop napkins, paper towels, trash bags, sugarless redbulls, gatorade and bottled water
• Watch 1 out of the 2 Netflix movies you have here
• Haywire
• We Bought A Zoo

Take Me Out to the Ballgame

I'm going to the Red Sox game tonight and my primary concern is staying awake past the first inning.  I've been walking-through-a-field-of-enchanted-poppies tired lately.  I started drinking iced coffee this week and may have a full-blown addiction after just a few days.  I plan to upgrade from a small to a medium this afternoon so I will be alert enough to score some Fenway soft serve in a tiny batting helmet tonight.  The Sox are having a rough season, so the ice cream is likely to be a game highlight.  (As well as the company of course.)

And because you are dying to know, here are my three favorite baseball movies:

3) Field of Dreams ("If you build it, he will come.")
It isn't the father/son stuff that gets me, it is the scene when Doc Graham walks off the field to save Karin.
  

2) A League of Their Own ("There's no crying in baseball!")
The only problem with this movie, as far as I'm concerned, is that Lori Petty/Kit Keller is insufferable.

1) The Sandlot ("For-ev-er.")
Obviously.  The Dude and I could probably perform this movie from start to finish.  We watched it roughly 17,000 times in the mid-90s.

The Perfect Jam for Tidying Up

Last week when The Dude and I drove by several men picking up garbage on the side of the road, I mentioned to him that whenever I see people on litter duty, I think of the song from the old Disney cartoon. . . .  "Put it in the bag, bump bump."  I bet the folks who are doing state-mandated community service would find the experience more enjoyable if they were to apply a"whistle while you work" philosophy to their task-- replacing whistling with rump shaking.

Public Service Announcement

This is a Public Service Announcement, sponsored by Doritos and the good folks from Red Baron pizza.


Allow me to re-introduce myself
My name is The Dude, OH, D-U-D-E
I get real weird in dirty J-P
I guess even back then you can call me
CEO of the B-R-Os, OH!
Fresh out the 04901 into the city
I be the, blog guy who supplies the witty
Banter/blogs, you feelin' my game
Used to get the hottest chicks, most were insane, that's right
Dude, OH, not man or guy
These blogs are the truth, no I'm not shy

Wid all that shake, can a playa get some fries with it?

I've been staying in this particular hotel a few nights a week for about 7 months now.  A lot of folks working at this establishment know me by name, including Carlos, the dude who always brings me my room service.  Tonight I ordered a delicious cheeseburger, hold the bacon, with a wheat bun and salad instead of fries.  Yes, yes I am maturing and growing.  So Carlos knocks on my door 30 minutes later with an unusually large smile on his face (he is huge smiling like a kid in a zoo for the first time) and says he has a surprise for me.  He pops open the food and there is a side order of fries.  I said I didn't order them tonight, he said he realizes that fact, but he knows I usually am huge fries and thought I'd want them.  Awesome.  I have a reputation as a fry-hog at a hotel.  The saddest part is I ate all the GD fries.....after I ate most of the salad.  Baby steps.  Thanks for ruining my manly Artie Lange Ryan Gosling abs, Carlos.   

This sums up my feelings towards fries:

La Blog Bohème

Okay, I cannot compete with The Dude's posts.  His discussion of Grease made me laugh out loud.  I think it was totally normal that we used to duet on "Summer Loving" when we were in elementary school.  Last month The Dude was staying with me while his apartment was being renovated and I played a portion of the Judge John Hodgman podcast for him where Hodgman discusses the date rapey lyric, "Did she put up a fight?"  Shout out to our mother for exposing us to really classy material in our early years.  I think she ran Grease on a constant loop to distract us so she could have a turn on original flavor Super Mario Brothers/Nintendo.

Grease was the first of many musicals we enjoyed together.  Newsies got a lot of love in our home in our tween years.  We've seen Spamalot, Avenue Q, Jersey Boys, Wicked, and Hairspray together.  And of course Rent.  The Dude was absolutely obsessed with Rent after he saw the movie.  He listened to the soundtrack nonstop and saw it live multiple times.  There was a period of time several years ago when he would return home from business trips and demand that I blast a song from Rent so he could sing it on his way up the stairs, thus entering the house in a good mood.  His stair work to "Out Tonight" was top notch.  Over a decade after our inappropriate "Summer Loving" duets, it came to pass that we would often sing "Light My Candle" together as adult siblings.  Super weird but undeniably entertaining, as The Dude of course performed the Mimi portion of the song so he could belt "They say that I have the best ass" at the top of his lungs.

Go flog your blog

Nothing like a solid Rizzo quote to get things off on the right start after a missed blogging day.  The movie Grease is in my thoughts today for two reasons:

1. Herself put up a list of movies on one of her recent blogs.
2. One of Trish's favorites, Johnny Travolta, the star of Grease, is accused of alleged definitely sexual misconduct forcefully HJing random dudes here and there throughout the United States.

I don't like to gossip, so I won't cast judgement on this case.  Plus I spoke to my attorney and I used the correct terminology above with 'accused' and 'allegedly', so that is as far as I will go on that one since legally this blog can cannot be used against me in a court of law.  Back to the movie that is Grease.

How the eff did this movie become a normal childhood movie for my generation?  Herself and I watched that movie way too many times growing up and only a few years ago I watched it again after Herself pointed out how that movie is the complete opposite of a kid's flick.  Great parenting.  I can remember using the phrase, "you doin' that without a net?" far too often as an 8 year old and not having a clue what it mean until I was 19 13 years old.  I don't want to get into the specific adult themes as they are very rude and upsetting, but let's just say that this movie definitely should be rated R........for RIDICULOUSLYsweetdancemoves.

I can't tell you the number of times Brad, The Bradman, Dave, DR, Matt The Hairdresser and I Brow broke into choreographed dance moves just hanging out on the streets of Winslow together.  Good times.   In all honesty though, the lyrics of this song are pretty clever and amusing.  I don't think any of the CUIDADOS (our group's gang name, selected from a Caution, Wet Floor sign due to our intense rivalry with the Mexican gang in the greater Albion/Benton/Clinton region) could have come up with these gems:

"You are supreme the chicks'll cream for grease lightning"

"With a four speed on the floor they'll be waiting at the door
You know that ain't no shit we'll be getting lots of tit"

"With new pistons, plugs, and shocks I can get off my rocks
You know that I ain't bragging she's a real pussy wagon"

Classy.

I might get the old gang back together this summer to tear up the toilets in the 04901.  I think we could have handled the T-Birds in a gang fight.  The T-Birds had squirt guns, greasy combs and tiny pocket knives.  We had baseball bats, Opti-Free contact solution, golf clubs, Immodium AD and water balloons a key member's talent of intolerable flatulence.

I can't imagine how much more amazing high school would have been had we walked down the halls sporting this solid graphic on the back of our black leather jackets. 

Creepy face picture

 Cuidado, piso mojado when we walk into a room, indeed........ladies. 

Don't Want to Ride My Bicycle

Two posts in one day because I fell asleep while it was practically still light out last night and skipped a day.

I was up at 5:30 this morning to peddle my stationary bike.  It is a really satisfying activity.  I've been going to bed in work out clothes and leaving my sneakers by the bike and yet each morning I look over at the machine that is literally a foot from my bed and think, "Too far."  Today I got up and suffered through the indignity of a screen that read "SPEED UP" for large stretches of my self-induced punishment.  I have a friend who is super into health/fitness and recently mentioned that she wakes up at 3:45am to exercise.  The middle of the night.  Now that I understand what goes into having defined abs, I feel more confident than ever with my decision to live as a functioning flab farm.

Anyway, I've been sticking with the 5:30 bike rides to nowhere for a few weeks and as a result, I am way more tired than is appropriate or acceptable.  I've been quasi-sleeping on the T to and from work.  And then I get home and hit the sack embarrassingly early.  When double sessions kick in this summer so I can zip my bridesmaid dress, I am definitely going to have to start napping in the office.

Sendak + Colbert

I just read that Maurice Sendak, author of Where the Wild Things Are, has died.  Here are the links to his recent and very amusing interview with Stephen Colbert.

Clip 1
Clip 2

Whoops

Forgot to post over the weekend, despite a few reminders from Herself.  Speaking of Herself, thanks to her my living room and new carpet don't look like hell.  She came over on Sunday and helped me get my pad in order.  This afternoon I moved all of the furniture from the side of the house to the curb and somehow hurt my back in the process.  WTF!  I'm getting a bit old when I hurt myself doing simple tasks such as dragging couches and a chair 5 feet.  Lame.  "Shit's weak!"

The Last 10 Movies

Very brief reviews of the last ten movies I have seen.

Buck: I'd had this on my Netflix queue for a while and just didn't think I was interested in a documentary about the man who inspired Robert Redford's movie The Horse Whisperer.  I ended up liking this movie a lot and now I'm thinking about trading in my cats for some horses.  Is it possible that Buck is as cool in real life as he is in the movie?  The only miss in this film was not using Paula Cole's "Where Have All the Cowboys Gone" at any point on the soundtrack. (4 out of 5)

Mission: Impossible - Ghost Protocol: I saw the first Mission: Impossible movie literally half a lifetime ago when it came out during the summer I spent at The Young Scholars Program.  (Engineering camp for extra-awesome teens.  Jealous?)  I have found each subsequent Mission: Impossible movie to be pretty difficult to follow.  I fell asleep while watching this one and then finished it on try two.  It was decent enough, though I am already fuzzy on the details after less than a week.  You've probably heard, but there were some impressive stunts performed by Tom Cruise on the world's tallest building. (3 out of 5)

The Hunger Games: I read the books over the course of several vacation days last summer and had been looking forward to the film adaptation.  I liked Jennifer Lawrence's portrayal of Katniss, but I'm still not sold on Josh Hutcherson's Peeta.  The Reaping at the start of the movie was well done and quite emotional.  The Hunger Games themselves were cooler and scarier in my mind, as they should have been. (4 out of 5)

Monte Carlo: I watched this for free on The Dude's HBO Go account.  I don't know how the filmmakers went wrong with a movie starring Justin Bieber's girlfriend, Blair and Juliet from Gossip Girl, and Finn from Glee. . .  in Europe!  Not good. (2 out of 5)

The Descendants: The Dude told me that this movie was boring and I didn't believe him.  Alexander Payne movies are generally interesting, I like George Clooney, and this won the Oscar for Best Film.  Well, I am agreeing with The Dude rather than The Academy.  This wasn't a bad movie, but maybe it was just too built up.  It was pretty slow.  And unless they are Ricky Bobby's sons in Talledega Nights, I tend not to like jerky movie kids like the daughters in this. (3 out of 5)

In Time: This was a forgettable futuristic Justin Timberlake movie.  People stop aging in their mid-20s, time is money, etc.  Ehh.  (3 out of 5)

The Thin Blue Line: Famous documentary from the '80s.  I knew the story but still found it to be interesting.  And scary.  Worth checking out.  (4 out of 5)

Tower Heist: A decent enough comedy until there was a car dangling from a skyscraper and Ferris Bueller dangling from the car.  I don't know why insane scenes like that take me out of a movie or TV show, but the same thing happened on the last season of Bored to Death when Jason Schwartzman was hanging from a huge clock very high above the ground.  That one scene totally spoiled the episode for me.  The only movie to pull something like that off was Back to the Future.  And seriously, no one is going to out-awesome Back to the Future.  (3 out of 5)

Edie & Thea: A Very Long Engagement:  Wow, three out of my ten are documentaries (or as my mother calls them, "documentatrees.")  It was sweet to watch these two ladies who were still so very in love after 40+ years together.  (4 out of 5)

The Muppets: This movie may as well have been created especially for me.  I love the Muppets and have tremendous nostalgia for watching their show and movies in the '80s.  The songs in this movie were written by Brett McKenzie of Flight of the Conchords and were awesome.  This movie was genuinely funny.  The Dude initially had no interest in watching this movie, but even he was pulled in.  He absolutely died laughing at Fozzie Bear's fart shoes (patent pending) which made an okay joke seem hilarious.  Loved it.  (5 out of 5)

A Bunch of Old Links/Keeping It Fresh

Taran Killam was on Late Night With Jimmy Fallon last night and it reminded me that it had been a while since I watched him recreate Robyn's "Call Your Girlfriend" video.  There was a period of time around Christmas where my daily consumption of this video was affecting my life.  I'm grateful to still be employed.  Killam was also in an SNL skit about Gotye's "Somebody That I Used to Know" video at the apex of my obsession with that song.

Earlier this week I realized that I had been neglecting my long-running appreciation of Stephen "tWitch" Boss.  I sent Molonius a recent clip of him appearing on Ellen and then obviously had to watch his two best routines from So You Think You Can Dance ("Forever" and "Outta Your Mind.")  You don't even have to endure Mary Murphy's shrieking in order to enjoy those two performances.  You're welcome.

Working From Home

11:34am and I'm still in bed sitting next to 2 laptops.  The unfortunate part (following on Herself's theme) is that I do not have a bag of chips by my bed, per usual, due to giving up eating in bed.  Rewind to 1 year ago and this is exactly how I would look right now. 

Time to use my lunch break to clean the bathroom....Trish style.

Snack Attack

It is bumming me out that my favorite chip brand/snack food has hired Ashton Kutcher as their spokesperson.  Fortunately for popchips, I think they are the best chips to come along since the Keebler Elves stopped baking O'Boises in a tree, and therefore I will not give them up just because their spokesperson is a knob.  I guess the silver lining is that they didn't hire Jennifer Hudson, who endorses the product on their website.  Listening to her soulfully sing about being thin during Weight Watchers commercials is brutal enough.

The T was loaded with college graduates in their caps and gowns this morning.  It has been ten years since I graduated and it is safe to say that I am not exactly exceeding my own expectations from a decade ago as I publicly contemplate potato chips.  If I had to tell 2002 me one thing, it would probably be, "At least I have health insurance!"  (God only knows what I would fall back on if I lived in a country with universal health care.)

The Dude Abides

Excited to get this new blog rolling and will beef up the content over the weekend.  About to embark on a 3.5 hour hellish car journey.  During my excessive use of horn and inappropriate level of birding, I might decide to switch my name on here from 'The Dude' to 'Wooderson'. 

Very First Post

Welcome to Baking Like a Toaster Cheeser.  In the words of my doppelganger Hamilton The Babe Porter, "PLAY BALL!"