So I managed not to spend my ENTIRE day watching the French Open. Sad to see Ancic go, though. He's a good player, but Federer was having his one of his "I'm the greatest player in the world" days. You know, like the Williams sisters had a billion years ago.
Then Melrose for sweets.
Had a scoop of Oreo Mascarpone at Scoops. Tried the Chocolate Porto, but no me gusta.
As you may know if you were on Melrose today, a good hunk of it was under construction, which was a pain.
Went to Mel and Rose, a wine and fine foods store to buy some Amedei chocolate I'd heard divine things about -- Porcelana. I had a bite of it today, and it wasn't my thing. Maybe that will change.
Then I went to Sweet Lady Jane and bought a croissant and a chocolate tiramisu (I know, I know, the day of a billion calories). I took a bite of the tiramisu, but it's in the fridge now (I don't know why I bought tiramisu--I don't really like tiramisu) and ate the croissant. Then I went to Target and bought ramekins.
Earlier in the day I went to Studio City and got some tumblers at Pier One for cheap (coupon plus clearance equals $1 glasses!) and a seven-layer bar from Big Sugar. I'm not a big fan of their cupcakes, but the bar was incroyable, probably because of the massive amount of coconut.
I did a little writing, a little walking (for that croissant, ice cream, and coconut bar), and made an incredible tuna, carrot, spinach, and shredded Mexican cheese sandwich on toasted pita bread -- sprouts would have probably made it better, but it was still rocking.
Saturday, May 31, 2008
Friday, May 30, 2008
how Kati stopped having all ambition
Whoa, whoa, whoa, I have the Tennis Channel? What?!
Well, there goes the rest of my life.
Well, there goes the rest of my life.
Thursday, May 29, 2008
re: food
I've found this delicious blog, not sure why, but I imagine it was linked through some book blog I read, since her second book is coming out soon.
Why has it not occurred to me before now to seek out French blogs? I'm sure it will improve my French (which is decent), my culinary skills, and provide yet another thing to do at work when we have nothing else to do.
In any event, I'm particularly excited about making my own dried pineapple. In addition, I feel a sudden urge to buy garlic (which I've never purchased), ramekins, and to teleport my mother's unused ice cream maker from CT. I'm also craving gianduja. If there is a better combination than chocolate and hazelnut, I'd like to hear it.
I almost never buy corn because corn has always been such a massive undertaking in my family. Shucking and boiling and finding those little corn holders. Quel cauchemar! But I found the simplest thing in the world. Roasting corn. Just preheat the oven and stick your ear(s) of corn in, still in their husks, and it comes out brilliantly. You can peel off the husk and use that as you eat. It's amazing. I don't need butter or salt, so it's even easier.
I'm running low on my Avila Valley Farm pumpkin bread and am mildly devastated.
I tried the Studio Yogurt the other day and was stunned at the sheer ginormity of a small. I got the chocolate cheesecake, which I believe had some sugar alternative in it (which I'm against), but it only made it a little bitter. I wanted a little peanut butter cup to cut the mound of froyo, but did not realize when the scooper (salesman? what do I call him) said it had to be on the side that he would then fill a separate cup with crushed peanut butter cups and charge me a dollar. This is how "toppings" apparently work. So be aware.
I bought the boxed Campbell Tomato Parmesan Bisque. It's got great flavor, but I need to check the ingredients. I'm not sure what the lumps are. Some of it's clearly the cheese, but I think there must be some onion, though I didn't read any on their site. How I loathe onion.
I don't know that I'll ever become a soup person (my mother could bake, but stews and soups were not her strong suit), but I do like bisque--and anything's a good excuse to buy oyster crackers.
I really want to buy some excellent chocolate.
Oh, and one more thing about Shell Beach. Ocean Avenue, aptly named, as some incredible houses, including one that has its own greenhouse, piazza-like yard and pool, and, amazingly, a windmill. I want this house. But I'm terribly concerned about cliff erosion. This is the great "location" quandary of our time. Do you buy a gorgeous place near the ocean, a dream home in every sense, that could at any moment plunge to its doom from crumbling cliffs, be swept away by a mudslide, or be yanked into the ocean by rising floodwaters? Is the dream worth a likely nightmare?
Luckily, I'm not wealthy enough to be burdened by such a problem.
Why has it not occurred to me before now to seek out French blogs? I'm sure it will improve my French (which is decent), my culinary skills, and provide yet another thing to do at work when we have nothing else to do.
In any event, I'm particularly excited about making my own dried pineapple. In addition, I feel a sudden urge to buy garlic (which I've never purchased), ramekins, and to teleport my mother's unused ice cream maker from CT. I'm also craving gianduja. If there is a better combination than chocolate and hazelnut, I'd like to hear it.
I almost never buy corn because corn has always been such a massive undertaking in my family. Shucking and boiling and finding those little corn holders. Quel cauchemar! But I found the simplest thing in the world. Roasting corn. Just preheat the oven and stick your ear(s) of corn in, still in their husks, and it comes out brilliantly. You can peel off the husk and use that as you eat. It's amazing. I don't need butter or salt, so it's even easier.
I'm running low on my Avila Valley Farm pumpkin bread and am mildly devastated.
I tried the Studio Yogurt the other day and was stunned at the sheer ginormity of a small. I got the chocolate cheesecake, which I believe had some sugar alternative in it (which I'm against), but it only made it a little bitter. I wanted a little peanut butter cup to cut the mound of froyo, but did not realize when the scooper (salesman? what do I call him) said it had to be on the side that he would then fill a separate cup with crushed peanut butter cups and charge me a dollar. This is how "toppings" apparently work. So be aware.
I bought the boxed Campbell Tomato Parmesan Bisque. It's got great flavor, but I need to check the ingredients. I'm not sure what the lumps are. Some of it's clearly the cheese, but I think there must be some onion, though I didn't read any on their site. How I loathe onion.
I don't know that I'll ever become a soup person (my mother could bake, but stews and soups were not her strong suit), but I do like bisque--and anything's a good excuse to buy oyster crackers.
I really want to buy some excellent chocolate.
Oh, and one more thing about Shell Beach. Ocean Avenue, aptly named, as some incredible houses, including one that has its own greenhouse, piazza-like yard and pool, and, amazingly, a windmill. I want this house. But I'm terribly concerned about cliff erosion. This is the great "location" quandary of our time. Do you buy a gorgeous place near the ocean, a dream home in every sense, that could at any moment plunge to its doom from crumbling cliffs, be swept away by a mudslide, or be yanked into the ocean by rising floodwaters? Is the dream worth a likely nightmare?
Luckily, I'm not wealthy enough to be burdened by such a problem.
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Holy Brendan Fraser
A) How did I not know about this?
and
B) What has Maria Bello done with Rachel Weisz? NOT COOL, DUDE. (Anyone else think she looks like Mary McCormack in this?)
and
B) What has Maria Bello done with Rachel Weisz? NOT COOL, DUDE. (Anyone else think she looks like Mary McCormack in this?)
world's worst argument
Ever thought that there was something wrong in the universe? Ever disagreed with the critics, thought something successful and widely-praised wasn't as great as everyone said? Oh, yeah. Well, you were just jealous.
No, no, no, I don't want to hear your well-reasoned arguments. They differ from the people I agree with. You're just jealous! You didn't like Juno? You're jealous! You think the NY Times magazine cover story was the kind of lame that gets sent to the glue factory? You're jealous! You wish it was you who won that Oscar, who was featured in that magazine story! The more you point out the flaws in the work, the more I know you're just a green-eyed monster of oozing envy! That's the only possible reason!
Because if you're right (which you're not) or even have a valid opinion, and that magazine article that I loved WAS, potentially, in poor taste, pointless, etc., etc., then it must mean that I'm a shallow, stupid asshole who can't wait for the NY Times to totes become US Weekly. And if Juno really wasn't the greatest, funniest, most original movie ever and Ellen Page was just playing herself and those catchphrases weren't like the work of an exhibitionist Einstein, then, well, maybe I just jump on the bandwagon with everyone else and am easily enamored with bright pink hair and shiny indie-cool banter rather than actual story (though, okay, we all agree that there was a lot of potential in that Sonic Youth dad doesn't really want a kid storyline). Maybe I don't know crap about what makes a screenplay deserving of an Oscar and should keep my doughnut hole shut.
But that can't be it.
So you're jealous.
No, no, no, I don't want to hear your well-reasoned arguments. They differ from the people I agree with. You're just jealous! You didn't like Juno? You're jealous! You think the NY Times magazine cover story was the kind of lame that gets sent to the glue factory? You're jealous! You wish it was you who won that Oscar, who was featured in that magazine story! The more you point out the flaws in the work, the more I know you're just a green-eyed monster of oozing envy! That's the only possible reason!
Because if you're right (which you're not) or even have a valid opinion, and that magazine article that I loved WAS, potentially, in poor taste, pointless, etc., etc., then it must mean that I'm a shallow, stupid asshole who can't wait for the NY Times to totes become US Weekly. And if Juno really wasn't the greatest, funniest, most original movie ever and Ellen Page was just playing herself and those catchphrases weren't like the work of an exhibitionist Einstein, then, well, maybe I just jump on the bandwagon with everyone else and am easily enamored with bright pink hair and shiny indie-cool banter rather than actual story (though, okay, we all agree that there was a lot of potential in that Sonic Youth dad doesn't really want a kid storyline). Maybe I don't know crap about what makes a screenplay deserving of an Oscar and should keep my doughnut hole shut.
But that can't be it.
So you're jealous.
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Mars, Asia, Zimbabwe, Sydney, and once again, SLO
I saw Sydney Pollack speak at the New School in, I think, late 2006. He wore his signature leather jacket, spoke candidly of his mishmash of a career (he had wanted to be an actor more than anything), and just seemed like a guy who managed, somehow, to deserve more for all he had gone through. None of his projects was easy, particularly The Interpreter, and you got a feeling that he always put more into his work than he ever garnered in praise (or any other sort of emotional, critical or monetary reward). But I admired him for his doggedness, and he was an excellent speaker. I still have a photo of him on my phone--and now it's gonna stay there.
Zimbabwe's a bit out of the news now, but the runoff will occur in a few weeks. Assuming Mugabe and ZANU-PF don't kill/intimidate voters or otherwise throw the election (and that's like assuming a complete stranger will just hand me an ice cream cone today), Tsvangirai should win and Zimbabwe might finally have a president who cares that Zimbabwe's agro has been decimated--and that it doesn't have to be like that.
With recent disasters in south and eastern Asia (yeah, Myanmar and China, it's nice to know our government isn't the only one that doesn't know how to deal with natural disasters), gratis psycho weather and earthquakes (is it just me or have there been more major earthquakes in the last five years than normal?), living a few miles south of Northridge and a few miles east of the coast is not making me feel all that safe. Extreme activity in Asia does not necessarily have anything to do with the American Pacific coast, but it doesn't necessarily NOT have anything to do with the American Pacific coast. When the earth gets a rumbly in its tumbly, there's no telling what it'll do.
If you ever get up to SLO, go to the Avila Valley Barn and buy some of the pumpkin bread. It's nice and gingery. Off the hook.
Anyone check out the color photos of arctic Mars in all its fractally glory? So the red planet is not so much fire engine red as brown-red, but it's still interesting. Imagine if there was actually water up there. That would be amazing. The question is, of course, would it just be amazing, or would it be exploitable? If bottled water from Fiji's expensive, I'm guessing Martian water's gonna be pricier than that sundae with caviar and gold in it at Serendipity.
Of course, the water might not be "Earth" water. And I presume scientists are hoping some microorganism is floating around it because that means life, and life on Mars could teach us all sorts of things about things we haven't even considered there being an "about" about. But after watching Andromeda Strain last night and reading The Black Swan, I am really, really hoping Phoenix doesn't bring back any human race-destroying viruses/superbacteria back. Because if there's anything humans do well, it's spread disease (it's like mosquitoes, rats, humans, and then everything else).
Zimbabwe's a bit out of the news now, but the runoff will occur in a few weeks. Assuming Mugabe and ZANU-PF don't kill/intimidate voters or otherwise throw the election (and that's like assuming a complete stranger will just hand me an ice cream cone today), Tsvangirai should win and Zimbabwe might finally have a president who cares that Zimbabwe's agro has been decimated--and that it doesn't have to be like that.
With recent disasters in south and eastern Asia (yeah, Myanmar and China, it's nice to know our government isn't the only one that doesn't know how to deal with natural disasters), gratis psycho weather and earthquakes (is it just me or have there been more major earthquakes in the last five years than normal?), living a few miles south of Northridge and a few miles east of the coast is not making me feel all that safe. Extreme activity in Asia does not necessarily have anything to do with the American Pacific coast, but it doesn't necessarily NOT have anything to do with the American Pacific coast. When the earth gets a rumbly in its tumbly, there's no telling what it'll do.
If you ever get up to SLO, go to the Avila Valley Barn and buy some of the pumpkin bread. It's nice and gingery. Off the hook.
Anyone check out the color photos of arctic Mars in all its fractally glory? So the red planet is not so much fire engine red as brown-red, but it's still interesting. Imagine if there was actually water up there. That would be amazing. The question is, of course, would it just be amazing, or would it be exploitable? If bottled water from Fiji's expensive, I'm guessing Martian water's gonna be pricier than that sundae with caviar and gold in it at Serendipity.
Of course, the water might not be "Earth" water. And I presume scientists are hoping some microorganism is floating around it because that means life, and life on Mars could teach us all sorts of things about things we haven't even considered there being an "about" about. But after watching Andromeda Strain last night and reading The Black Swan, I am really, really hoping Phoenix doesn't bring back any human race-destroying viruses/superbacteria back. Because if there's anything humans do well, it's spread disease (it's like mosquitoes, rats, humans, and then everything else).
Monday, May 26, 2008
SLO, Hearst Castle, and good food
Why did I have to go all the way up to the Central Coast to find some decent clam strips (though super-salty) and TCBY-esque frozen yogurt?
OK, supposedly (I just checked) there are a handful of TCBYs in LA, but none are close. Sigh. Maybe I'll try Studio Yogurt sometime. Maybe that's what I'm looking for.
So I have a friend who lives in Shell Beach and I drove up the 101 Friday night. It took me 4 hours, but only 3 hours today coming back (though I left from Burbank on Friday, not Sherman Oaks). There was a little traffic around Santa Barbara, but if you have to be stuck in traffic on the 101, Santa Barbara's where to do it. Total gorgeousness. Perfect blue skies, healthy blue sea, warm, but not wicked hot. Lots of green. Very nice.
Saturday, I hung around SLO and then we went to see Aida (my first time) at a tricked-out public school theater the likes of which just don't exist back in CT. If you ever get the chance to hear Joanna Jones sing, take it.
Sunday, we went to Hearst Castle, which is about an hour north of SLO. Considering the castle is not run by the Hearsts anymore, I don't really get why there's so much blind idolatry to WRH. I mean, he hired Julia Morgan to mesh together all the architecture he'd seen in Europe as a kid on some of the ridiculously vast Hearst lands once he was done being a newspaper baron. The guides there are like cult members, and the National Geographic film an attempt at indoctrination.
But the castle is gorgeous, particularly the guest houses and the Neptune Pool. I really hope I become friends with someone who one day has a wedding there because I would very much like to attend that. Even if the bus ride from the visitor center to the castle is akin to a Magic Mountain roller coaster.
This morning, we played tennis (badly), I ate clam strips, and now I'm home. Exhausted. Nothing quite like a road trip up the coast. Must do it again soon.
OK, supposedly (I just checked) there are a handful of TCBYs in LA, but none are close. Sigh. Maybe I'll try Studio Yogurt sometime. Maybe that's what I'm looking for.
So I have a friend who lives in Shell Beach and I drove up the 101 Friday night. It took me 4 hours, but only 3 hours today coming back (though I left from Burbank on Friday, not Sherman Oaks). There was a little traffic around Santa Barbara, but if you have to be stuck in traffic on the 101, Santa Barbara's where to do it. Total gorgeousness. Perfect blue skies, healthy blue sea, warm, but not wicked hot. Lots of green. Very nice.
Saturday, I hung around SLO and then we went to see Aida (my first time) at a tricked-out public school theater the likes of which just don't exist back in CT. If you ever get the chance to hear Joanna Jones sing, take it.
Sunday, we went to Hearst Castle, which is about an hour north of SLO. Considering the castle is not run by the Hearsts anymore, I don't really get why there's so much blind idolatry to WRH. I mean, he hired Julia Morgan to mesh together all the architecture he'd seen in Europe as a kid on some of the ridiculously vast Hearst lands once he was done being a newspaper baron. The guides there are like cult members, and the National Geographic film an attempt at indoctrination.
But the castle is gorgeous, particularly the guest houses and the Neptune Pool. I really hope I become friends with someone who one day has a wedding there because I would very much like to attend that. Even if the bus ride from the visitor center to the castle is akin to a Magic Mountain roller coaster.
This morning, we played tennis (badly), I ate clam strips, and now I'm home. Exhausted. Nothing quite like a road trip up the coast. Must do it again soon.
Friday, May 23, 2008
dreams and dirt
I'm at work right now, doing nothing but listening to Heart's "These Dreams" and writing this blog.
Last night, I made dirt cupcakes. I think we had dirt pudding for birthdays when I was a kid, which was, of course, a Woman's Day magazine recipe or something that my mom used as sort of a personal culinary Bible for kids. If you don't know what dirt pudding is, you've had a horrific childhood. Basically, you take chocolate pudding, cool whip, more chocolate pudding, crushed Oreos and gummy worms and layer it in that order. If you want, you can mix the crushed Oreos into the chocolate pudding (I like it like that). So for cupcakes, since pudding doesn't transport well, I made chocolate cupcakes with crushed Oreos inside, triple chocolate chip frosting with --
Hold on.
Man, I love this song.
OK, frosting with crushed Oreos, and, of course, gummy worms. Unfortunately, with cupcakes, you can't do the Cool Whip, which is gross anyway, but I would have liked something to break up the chocolate, and the gummy worms just kind of lay flat.
BUT, after being in the fridge, they are delicious. Recommend hugely.
Last night, I had this crazy dream that I was at my grandmother's house and bears (real, big, giant, scary-as-hell bears) were just everywhere, and we were trapped in my grandparents' bedroom, the only non-infested area of the house, along with the attached attic and bathroom. I wanted to call 911, but my mother called to see how much it would cost to get the police to get the bears out, and it was going to be a ridiculous amount of money, so she thought we could handle it on our own...
with pillows.
Anyhow, I looked out the window to see if the bears that had been outside earlier were awake yet (they had just been sleeping en masse in the alleyway between our house and the next door apartment building/dorm and possibly my former residence) and saw that at least one appeared to have been crushed by falling rock--from God knows where. There was a girl looking out the window across the street, and I asked her if there were bears in the dorm, and she said yes, but that they were only there because they had no food and had been attracted by the smell of Halloween candy (it was November in my dream) and that they would move along soon.
Then I went and hid in the attic while my parents dillydallied and played around with some wooden letter puzzles from my childhood, found some Hello Kitty stationery, and woke up.
This may have all been because I was really afraid my roommate was going to bring in a stray cat from outside, or it may be because of nothing and further proof that dreams mean nothing, except when they're of me being really successful and happy.
Last night, I made dirt cupcakes. I think we had dirt pudding for birthdays when I was a kid, which was, of course, a Woman's Day magazine recipe or something that my mom used as sort of a personal culinary Bible for kids. If you don't know what dirt pudding is, you've had a horrific childhood. Basically, you take chocolate pudding, cool whip, more chocolate pudding, crushed Oreos and gummy worms and layer it in that order. If you want, you can mix the crushed Oreos into the chocolate pudding (I like it like that). So for cupcakes, since pudding doesn't transport well, I made chocolate cupcakes with crushed Oreos inside, triple chocolate chip frosting with --
Hold on.
Man, I love this song.
OK, frosting with crushed Oreos, and, of course, gummy worms. Unfortunately, with cupcakes, you can't do the Cool Whip, which is gross anyway, but I would have liked something to break up the chocolate, and the gummy worms just kind of lay flat.
BUT, after being in the fridge, they are delicious. Recommend hugely.
Last night, I had this crazy dream that I was at my grandmother's house and bears (real, big, giant, scary-as-hell bears) were just everywhere, and we were trapped in my grandparents' bedroom, the only non-infested area of the house, along with the attached attic and bathroom. I wanted to call 911, but my mother called to see how much it would cost to get the police to get the bears out, and it was going to be a ridiculous amount of money, so she thought we could handle it on our own...
with pillows.
Anyhow, I looked out the window to see if the bears that had been outside earlier were awake yet (they had just been sleeping en masse in the alleyway between our house and the next door apartment building/dorm and possibly my former residence) and saw that at least one appeared to have been crushed by falling rock--from God knows where. There was a girl looking out the window across the street, and I asked her if there were bears in the dorm, and she said yes, but that they were only there because they had no food and had been attracted by the smell of Halloween candy (it was November in my dream) and that they would move along soon.
Then I went and hid in the attic while my parents dillydallied and played around with some wooden letter puzzles from my childhood, found some Hello Kitty stationery, and woke up.
This may have all been because I was really afraid my roommate was going to bring in a stray cat from outside, or it may be because of nothing and further proof that dreams mean nothing, except when they're of me being really successful and happy.
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Me-dnesday
I don't even know how you would pronounce that, but whatev.
Had dinner with a former "People's Sexiest Man Alive" tonight.
Still, I'm sure David Cook had a better night. Good for him.
Had dinner with a former "People's Sexiest Man Alive" tonight.
Still, I'm sure David Cook had a better night. Good for him.
WTF, AA?
Well, it looks like I just might never end up using my American Airlines miles, which I believe I accumulated largely through a frozen waffle promotion. Damn you, rising gas prices!
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
addendum
I realize by concentrating on my disappointment in a specific story arc's logic, I failed to mention how awesome Bones is overall, how well the writers have created the chemistry between the characters who are given their fullness by truly talented actors, the excellent addition of Sweets to the lineup, and how great Dr. Saroyan's look was when Booth asked for the room. That's not covering my butt. If I truly had a problem with the show, I wouldn't watch it.
Also, regarding House, how Emmy-worthy is Robert Sean Leonard right now?
On another note, if you haven't watched the new 90210 promo, go do so now, then come back and tell me if you agree...
****
Is "You wanna live in the zip, you gotta live by the code" not the funniest thing you've heard ever? And by ever, I mean Ever. I wonder how many takes the VO guy needed. Because, personally, I wouldn't have been able to get through it. Holy crap. You wanna living the zip? You gotta live by the code, bro. You gotta live by the code. Oh. Dear. Lord.
Also, regarding House, how Emmy-worthy is Robert Sean Leonard right now?
On another note, if you haven't watched the new 90210 promo, go do so now, then come back and tell me if you agree...
****
Is "You wanna live in the zip, you gotta live by the code" not the funniest thing you've heard ever? And by ever, I mean Ever. I wonder how many takes the VO guy needed. Because, personally, I wouldn't have been able to get through it. Holy crap. You wanna living the zip? You gotta live by the code, bro. You gotta live by the code. Oh. Dear. Lord.
slow play
The nice thing about House's finale last night was that it felt like it had been planned since the beginning, since Amber's first foray into Princeton-Plainsboro, and yet, did it anyone see it coming? The character's arc has been so perfect, and the story so well-played out, despite the strike, that I was really impressed, and I can't wait to see how the dynamic changes between House (presumably, his coma won't have long-lasting ill effects) and the distraught Wilson, his only friend. Everyone questioned the whole idea of shaking up the show's cast, but I think it's been great. Granted, House's current team aren't particularly interesting (Thirteen's got Huntington's... and I could care less), but I feel like it's definitely kept its energy up.
Bones, on the other hand, feels like it definitely got hurt by the strike. There were definitely strengths to last night's season finale. You didn't really think there was any chance of it being Zach until the moment Cam says she's certain it's Sweets. As soon as she was sure, it obviously couldn't be him. But that Zach killed a man because, theoretically, secret societies hurt humanity and killing members of the society would improve the human situation at large? Come on. He never would have brought all that drama into his lab, first of all, since he clearly cares about his team. Which is where I blame the strike. Had they had a few more episodes, they might have been able to build a case for Zach's behavior by exploring some trauma in Iraq, or possibly base it on the need for soldiers to take orders and subsume their intellects to the commands of leaders with vaguely honorable causes. But we were never given any reason to suspect weakness in Zach or the potential to be easily manipulated. Honestly, I think Angela as the assistant would have been amazing. All the weepy femininity as an act? Or even, play up her frailty as the reason she was so easily manipulated.
If Zach for some reason were assisting Gormogon to protect his team, I could have bought that, as well.
Also, that this serial cannibal killer was messing with the Jeffersonian is additionally confusing if "he was no one." Anyhow, that arc just seems to have been messed up by the strike.
The brief fake out of Booth's death was also kind of stupid. I think a whole episode would have had more value. What did Brennan do for the two weeks she thought he was dead? And why did none of the guests at the funeral seem THAT surprised?
I was so happy with The Big Bang Theory finale. Could Penny and Leonard actually have a relationship? There's a lot more and better comedy in them trying it out than just in Leonard mooning and Penny rejecting him.
HIMYM, well, let's see what happens next year. The Barney-Robin idea has merit, and as long as Spears and those stupid red boots never return, I'll be happy.
Bones, on the other hand, feels like it definitely got hurt by the strike. There were definitely strengths to last night's season finale. You didn't really think there was any chance of it being Zach until the moment Cam says she's certain it's Sweets. As soon as she was sure, it obviously couldn't be him. But that Zach killed a man because, theoretically, secret societies hurt humanity and killing members of the society would improve the human situation at large? Come on. He never would have brought all that drama into his lab, first of all, since he clearly cares about his team. Which is where I blame the strike. Had they had a few more episodes, they might have been able to build a case for Zach's behavior by exploring some trauma in Iraq, or possibly base it on the need for soldiers to take orders and subsume their intellects to the commands of leaders with vaguely honorable causes. But we were never given any reason to suspect weakness in Zach or the potential to be easily manipulated. Honestly, I think Angela as the assistant would have been amazing. All the weepy femininity as an act? Or even, play up her frailty as the reason she was so easily manipulated.
If Zach for some reason were assisting Gormogon to protect his team, I could have bought that, as well.
Also, that this serial cannibal killer was messing with the Jeffersonian is additionally confusing if "he was no one." Anyhow, that arc just seems to have been messed up by the strike.
The brief fake out of Booth's death was also kind of stupid. I think a whole episode would have had more value. What did Brennan do for the two weeks she thought he was dead? And why did none of the guests at the funeral seem THAT surprised?
I was so happy with The Big Bang Theory finale. Could Penny and Leonard actually have a relationship? There's a lot more and better comedy in them trying it out than just in Leonard mooning and Penny rejecting him.
HIMYM, well, let's see what happens next year. The Barney-Robin idea has merit, and as long as Spears and those stupid red boots never return, I'll be happy.
Monday, May 19, 2008
sketch: dinner at the Hanks house
My roommate has a thing for Colin Hanks, and while watching Castaway tonight, I thought, how fun would it be to have dinner at the Hanks house. I bet I could have a whole conversation with Tom Hanks just using quotes from his movies.
In the sketch, the "me" character is meeting Tom because she's engaged to Colin. It's purely for narrative convenience.
[Tom opens the front door to his house]
Tom: Hi. You must be Kati. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Man, it's warm. I can't believe you brought your coat. Here, let me take it.
Me: The Godfather answers all of life's questions. What should I pack for my summer vacation? "Leave the gun, take the cannoli."
Tom: Well, we don’t allow guns in the house. Or cannolis for that matter. Rita has this weird irrational fear of ricotta. Boy, do I miss lasagna. Anyhow, go ahead and leave your shoes by the door.
Me: Mama says they was magic shoes. They could take me anywhere.
Tom: Uh, okay. You can keep ‘em on if it’ll make you more comfortable.
Me: No. Would it make you more comfortable?
[I take off my shoes]
Tom: We just put in hardwood floors, so you know, scuffing.
Me: It’s supposed to be hard. If it wasn’t hard, everyone would do it. The hard… is what makes it great.
Tom: Right. Much better than the carpeting. And easier to clean.
[I stumble.]
Tom: Whoa, whoa, watch yourself. You nearly took a little trip there.
Me: That wasn’t flying. That was… falling with style.
Tom: Well, I don’t know about that, but you do look quite nice. Rita’s just dying to see the engagement ring.
Me: It’s a glow-in-the-dark compass ring. So you don’t get lost.
Tom: Huh, really? It looks like a diamond to me. You turn at a certain angle and it could burn a guy’s cornea out.
Me: And in return, I’d like you to turn a blind eye to… what I have to do.
Tom: All right, what can I get you to drink?
Me: Well, then, should we try some of this scotch, or is it going to release Sarin gas?
Tom: I actually don’t have any scotch. And we’ve just run out of Sarin gas. You want some coffee?
Me: Patricia makes coffee nervous.
Tom: OK, so no coffee. I try to refrain from caffeinated beverages myself, though trying and succeeding are two different things.
Me: Because we’re going to sell them cheap books and legal addictive stimulants.
Tom: How about some juice? We have cranberry juice. Apple juice…
Me: We just put Sir Isaac Newton in the driver’s seat.
Tom: So apple juice then?
Me: I want something peppy, something happy, something up-tempo. I want something snappy.
Tom: Snapple. We have Snapple!
[doorbell rings]
Tom: Ah, that must be Rita now. Late as usual.
Me: We live and die by the clock, that’s all we have.
Tom: Rita!
[Tom leaves, then comes back]
Tom: It was the housekeeper. I sent her out to buy some fresh ahi. You do like fish.
Me: I don't understand. All my life I've been waiting for someone and when I find her, she's... she's a fish.
Tom: There’s nothing like blackened ahi. Let’s go throw it on the grill. Now watch your step. Spielberg was over with the brood the other day, and toys just got everywhere. I stubbed my toe on a marble the other day.
Me: YOU! ARE! A! TOYYYYY! You're not the real Buzz Lightyear! You're - you are an action figure! You are a child's play-thing!
Tom: Ow! Dammit. I stepped on another one.
Me: It’s like finding a needle in a stack of needles.
Tom: Dang it, that hurts.
Me: All we can do here is die.
Tom: Okay, so I’m exaggerating a bit. Look, don’t tell Rita. She’s been on me about putting in a new walkway out here, but I just don’t have the time.
Me: What happens on the mile stays on the mile. Always has.
Tom: Actually, it’s just a few more yards. Oh, shit, I forgot the manual for the grill.
Me: I've got to get to a library... Fast!
Tom: No, no, it’s fine. I’ll just wing it. Ah, here’s a match.
[Tom lights the grill]
Me: Look what I've created. I have made FIRE.
Tom: Man, it’s getting nippy out here. I hope it doesn’t get blown out.
Me: Ride like the wind, Bullseye.
Tom: Yeah, there’s definitely a storm brewing. Look at all those clouds.
Me: We just lost the moon.
Tom: Man, I hope they can see all right coming out here. This is the only flashlight we got.
Me: That's a search area of 500,000 square miles. That's twice the size of Texas. They may never find us.
Tom: It is a pretty big piece of property, isn’t it? I feel so bad for the lawnmower.
Me: And cause I was a gazillionaire, and I liked doin it so much, I cut that grass for free.
Tom: Well, not me. I hate that stuff. But Colin told me you were into vegetable gardening. I’m glad because his mother and I had such a time getting that boy to eat his broccoli.
Me: Me and Jenny goes together like peas and carrots.
Tom: Is that the girl that introduced you two? Colin said you were having brunch with her this morning.
Me: Madam, we must have waffles! We must all have waffles forthwith! We must all think, and we must all have waffles, and think each and every one of us to the very best of his ability...
Tom: Brunch is something I miss. But we’re always down at Rita’s church for something or other.
Me: Women are a huge threat to the Church.
Tom: Well, you know what they say, you can’t rebuild something until you’ve torn it down.
Me: A big man is ripping your ears off, Percy. I'd do as he says.
Tom: It definitely feels that way sometimes. They know what I do, they know how much money I have, sometimes, I feel all I do is give.
Me: When I die and I stand before God awaiting judgment and he asks me why I let one of HIS miracles die, what am I gonna say, that it was my job?
Tom: You’re right, you’re right, I’m lucky, it’s my duty to give back.
Me: But you don't want to be bamboozled. You don't want to be led down the primrose path. You don't want to be conned or duped. Hoodwinked. You don't want the wool pulled over you eyes. Railroaded. Seeing is believing. Am I right?
Tom: That’s what I’ve been telling Rita. We need to focus our charity work, we need to do research, we can’t just give to whomever asks. I mean, who knows whether they’re legitimate or not.
Me: He better be worth it. He better go home and cure a disease, or invent a longer-lasting light bulb.
Tom: I don’t even care about that. I just want to make sure we help deserving people. Anyhow, you’ve had quite a lot of Snapple. If you need to use the bathroom, the one in the poolhouse is only a half mile down that a way.
Me: This thing is going to get done by the CIA and it's going to get done quietly.
Tom: If that was a euphemism for something, I don’t want to know.
Me: If I'm not back in half an hour, you go see Reverend Lynch at First Methodist and you tell him what's happened. Do NOT go to Father Callaway.
[I leave]
Tom: We’re Eastern Orthodox!
[I go use the bathroom and then come back]
Tom: Oh, good, you’re back. I was worried.
Me: Always trust a bank manager.
Tom: Is that what you do? Colin told me you were a writer.
Me: Are you crying? Are you crying? ARE YOU CRYING? There's no crying! THERE'S NO CRYING IN BASEBALL!
Tom: No, it’s just the smoke from the grill. Keeps getting in my face.
[we hear a car drive up]
Tom: Ah, that sounds like Colin’s car.
Me: He could be the Zipper Man.
Tom: That’s an interesting pet name.
Me: The man means nothing to me; he's just a name.
Tom: Oh, there’s no reason to be upset. Is he often late?
Me: Well, tradition mostly.
Tom: Well, you know, he’s been working very hard lately.
Me: We all have orders, and we have to follow 'em. That supersedes everything, including your mothers.
Tom: Rita was right. It was you who sent the flowers and chocolates on Mother's Day! How thoughtful of you.
Me: Surely a chocolate assortment has been known to melt the heart of even the hardest misanthrope.
Tom: You know, that wasn’t the chocolate quote I thought you were going to use.
Me: My momma always said, "Life was like a box of chocolates. You never know what you're gonna get."
Tom: That’s the one. Anyhow, once you run out of quotes, I can really see you becoming part of the family.
Me: Who am I to break up the Roundup Gang?
Tom: We’re all going up to Aspen next month in my private plane. You’re more than welcome to come.
Me: Gentlemen, it's been a privilege flying with you.
Tom: Good, good. Oh, here's Colin now.
Me: This is possibly the most adorable creature I've ever been in contact with, and if she turns out to be as good looking as a mailbox... I would be crazy enough to turn my life upside down and marry her.
Tom: Well, that's great. I’m so happy you’ve made him happy.
Me: I'm not a smart man... but I know what love is.
[Tom smiles and clinks a bottle with my Snapple bottle, then downs it.
Stunned, I realize it’s Worcestershire sauce.]
Me: You just drank a whole bottle of Worcestershire sauce.
Tom: [coughing]: I'm sorry; did you want some?
[I take a beat]
Me: Family Ties?
Tom: You better believe it. Welcome to the family.
In the sketch, the "me" character is meeting Tom because she's engaged to Colin. It's purely for narrative convenience.
[Tom opens the front door to his house]
Tom: Hi. You must be Kati. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Man, it's warm. I can't believe you brought your coat. Here, let me take it.
Me: The Godfather answers all of life's questions. What should I pack for my summer vacation? "Leave the gun, take the cannoli."
Tom: Well, we don’t allow guns in the house. Or cannolis for that matter. Rita has this weird irrational fear of ricotta. Boy, do I miss lasagna. Anyhow, go ahead and leave your shoes by the door.
Me: Mama says they was magic shoes. They could take me anywhere.
Tom: Uh, okay. You can keep ‘em on if it’ll make you more comfortable.
Me: No. Would it make you more comfortable?
[I take off my shoes]
Tom: We just put in hardwood floors, so you know, scuffing.
Me: It’s supposed to be hard. If it wasn’t hard, everyone would do it. The hard… is what makes it great.
Tom: Right. Much better than the carpeting. And easier to clean.
[I stumble.]
Tom: Whoa, whoa, watch yourself. You nearly took a little trip there.
Me: That wasn’t flying. That was… falling with style.
Tom: Well, I don’t know about that, but you do look quite nice. Rita’s just dying to see the engagement ring.
Me: It’s a glow-in-the-dark compass ring. So you don’t get lost.
Tom: Huh, really? It looks like a diamond to me. You turn at a certain angle and it could burn a guy’s cornea out.
Me: And in return, I’d like you to turn a blind eye to… what I have to do.
Tom: All right, what can I get you to drink?
Me: Well, then, should we try some of this scotch, or is it going to release Sarin gas?
Tom: I actually don’t have any scotch. And we’ve just run out of Sarin gas. You want some coffee?
Me: Patricia makes coffee nervous.
Tom: OK, so no coffee. I try to refrain from caffeinated beverages myself, though trying and succeeding are two different things.
Me: Because we’re going to sell them cheap books and legal addictive stimulants.
Tom: How about some juice? We have cranberry juice. Apple juice…
Me: We just put Sir Isaac Newton in the driver’s seat.
Tom: So apple juice then?
Me: I want something peppy, something happy, something up-tempo. I want something snappy.
Tom: Snapple. We have Snapple!
[doorbell rings]
Tom: Ah, that must be Rita now. Late as usual.
Me: We live and die by the clock, that’s all we have.
Tom: Rita!
[Tom leaves, then comes back]
Tom: It was the housekeeper. I sent her out to buy some fresh ahi. You do like fish.
Me: I don't understand. All my life I've been waiting for someone and when I find her, she's... she's a fish.
Tom: There’s nothing like blackened ahi. Let’s go throw it on the grill. Now watch your step. Spielberg was over with the brood the other day, and toys just got everywhere. I stubbed my toe on a marble the other day.
Me: YOU! ARE! A! TOYYYYY! You're not the real Buzz Lightyear! You're - you are an action figure! You are a child's play-thing!
Tom: Ow! Dammit. I stepped on another one.
Me: It’s like finding a needle in a stack of needles.
Tom: Dang it, that hurts.
Me: All we can do here is die.
Tom: Okay, so I’m exaggerating a bit. Look, don’t tell Rita. She’s been on me about putting in a new walkway out here, but I just don’t have the time.
Me: What happens on the mile stays on the mile. Always has.
Tom: Actually, it’s just a few more yards. Oh, shit, I forgot the manual for the grill.
Me: I've got to get to a library... Fast!
Tom: No, no, it’s fine. I’ll just wing it. Ah, here’s a match.
[Tom lights the grill]
Me: Look what I've created. I have made FIRE.
Tom: Man, it’s getting nippy out here. I hope it doesn’t get blown out.
Me: Ride like the wind, Bullseye.
Tom: Yeah, there’s definitely a storm brewing. Look at all those clouds.
Me: We just lost the moon.
Tom: Man, I hope they can see all right coming out here. This is the only flashlight we got.
Me: That's a search area of 500,000 square miles. That's twice the size of Texas. They may never find us.
Tom: It is a pretty big piece of property, isn’t it? I feel so bad for the lawnmower.
Me: And cause I was a gazillionaire, and I liked doin it so much, I cut that grass for free.
Tom: Well, not me. I hate that stuff. But Colin told me you were into vegetable gardening. I’m glad because his mother and I had such a time getting that boy to eat his broccoli.
Me: Me and Jenny goes together like peas and carrots.
Tom: Is that the girl that introduced you two? Colin said you were having brunch with her this morning.
Me: Madam, we must have waffles! We must all have waffles forthwith! We must all think, and we must all have waffles, and think each and every one of us to the very best of his ability...
Tom: Brunch is something I miss. But we’re always down at Rita’s church for something or other.
Me: Women are a huge threat to the Church.
Tom: Well, you know what they say, you can’t rebuild something until you’ve torn it down.
Me: A big man is ripping your ears off, Percy. I'd do as he says.
Tom: It definitely feels that way sometimes. They know what I do, they know how much money I have, sometimes, I feel all I do is give.
Me: When I die and I stand before God awaiting judgment and he asks me why I let one of HIS miracles die, what am I gonna say, that it was my job?
Tom: You’re right, you’re right, I’m lucky, it’s my duty to give back.
Me: But you don't want to be bamboozled. You don't want to be led down the primrose path. You don't want to be conned or duped. Hoodwinked. You don't want the wool pulled over you eyes. Railroaded. Seeing is believing. Am I right?
Tom: That’s what I’ve been telling Rita. We need to focus our charity work, we need to do research, we can’t just give to whomever asks. I mean, who knows whether they’re legitimate or not.
Me: He better be worth it. He better go home and cure a disease, or invent a longer-lasting light bulb.
Tom: I don’t even care about that. I just want to make sure we help deserving people. Anyhow, you’ve had quite a lot of Snapple. If you need to use the bathroom, the one in the poolhouse is only a half mile down that a way.
Me: This thing is going to get done by the CIA and it's going to get done quietly.
Tom: If that was a euphemism for something, I don’t want to know.
Me: If I'm not back in half an hour, you go see Reverend Lynch at First Methodist and you tell him what's happened. Do NOT go to Father Callaway.
[I leave]
Tom: We’re Eastern Orthodox!
[I go use the bathroom and then come back]
Tom: Oh, good, you’re back. I was worried.
Me: Always trust a bank manager.
Tom: Is that what you do? Colin told me you were a writer.
Me: Are you crying? Are you crying? ARE YOU CRYING? There's no crying! THERE'S NO CRYING IN BASEBALL!
Tom: No, it’s just the smoke from the grill. Keeps getting in my face.
[we hear a car drive up]
Tom: Ah, that sounds like Colin’s car.
Me: He could be the Zipper Man.
Tom: That’s an interesting pet name.
Me: The man means nothing to me; he's just a name.
Tom: Oh, there’s no reason to be upset. Is he often late?
Me: Well, tradition mostly.
Tom: Well, you know, he’s been working very hard lately.
Me: We all have orders, and we have to follow 'em. That supersedes everything, including your mothers.
Tom: Rita was right. It was you who sent the flowers and chocolates on Mother's Day! How thoughtful of you.
Me: Surely a chocolate assortment has been known to melt the heart of even the hardest misanthrope.
Tom: You know, that wasn’t the chocolate quote I thought you were going to use.
Me: My momma always said, "Life was like a box of chocolates. You never know what you're gonna get."
Tom: That’s the one. Anyhow, once you run out of quotes, I can really see you becoming part of the family.
Me: Who am I to break up the Roundup Gang?
Tom: We’re all going up to Aspen next month in my private plane. You’re more than welcome to come.
Me: Gentlemen, it's been a privilege flying with you.
Tom: Good, good. Oh, here's Colin now.
Me: This is possibly the most adorable creature I've ever been in contact with, and if she turns out to be as good looking as a mailbox... I would be crazy enough to turn my life upside down and marry her.
Tom: Well, that's great. I’m so happy you’ve made him happy.
Me: I'm not a smart man... but I know what love is.
[Tom smiles and clinks a bottle with my Snapple bottle, then downs it.
Stunned, I realize it’s Worcestershire sauce.]
Me: You just drank a whole bottle of Worcestershire sauce.
Tom: [coughing]: I'm sorry; did you want some?
[I take a beat]
Me: Family Ties?
Tom: You better believe it. Welcome to the family.
but I am a Net watcher (seriously, one of Sandra's most entertaining flicks)
I'm not a networker. Strangers, in general, throw me for a loop. They have these whole lives, and in a couple of minutes, what I'm wearing and what the humidity's doing to my hair and how he knows that guy over there in the corner throwing himself against the wall is supposed to decide whether my life and his life is gonna intersect or just glance off each other. That's a lot to ask. Too many permutations lost as soon as it's over, and I worry. What if I just missed a turn in the road? What if that was the person who was supposed to be important in my life? Why is that guy throwing himself against the wall?
Also, once I've met someone and made myself out to be an idiot, I can't undo that. Public meetings are bad because often the person I'm meeting is far drunker, higher, or cooler than I am, and I am immediately on guard and thus, judgmental, shy (which always seems standoffish), or making lame jokes (trying too hard). Emails are even worse because it's hard to find the line between eager and insane, passionate and obnoxious, curious and needy. In stories, you can give little physical cues with the dialogue. In scripts, you can actually write (eager, but not so much so that it's off-putting). In a first-person email, I can't do that. I mean, I could, but, um, that would probably not have the desired effect.
Anyhow, I apparently managed not to mess up for once this weekend. Hoorah! Now onto further impressions in which I must get over my social anxieties, chill, and try to be "relaxed Kati" instead of "nervous and discomfort-inducing Kati."
Heavens to Betsy.
Um, so I had this dream last night that may or may not have had to do with a discussion with an almost-lawyer friend of mine regarding particle accelerators, dragons, and unicorns (it was a question of odds of events occurring -- unknown unknowns). She was anti-unicorns and dragons (even if the dragons happened to be cuddly), but we both agreed that if a black hole were to eat up the Earth, it wouldn't be the worst way to go (fast and with all your friends).
And then I had this dream last night. I can't remember all of it, but it involved a castle (damn you, Desperate Housewives?), and it was crumbling apart. I went to find some missing horses, and saw that their throats had been slit by rock chunks of the castle.
Then I headed towards the zoo (don't ask), where a bear (I think it talked) barreled through what appeared to be a forest of sprouts at me. It didn't manage to eat me, but it bit off a snake's head. And then another snake came at me. I think. It's all starting to fade.
So good things. To all those people who've been awesome to me recently, thanks for using your powers for good.
Also, once I've met someone and made myself out to be an idiot, I can't undo that. Public meetings are bad because often the person I'm meeting is far drunker, higher, or cooler than I am, and I am immediately on guard and thus, judgmental, shy (which always seems standoffish), or making lame jokes (trying too hard). Emails are even worse because it's hard to find the line between eager and insane, passionate and obnoxious, curious and needy. In stories, you can give little physical cues with the dialogue. In scripts, you can actually write (eager, but not so much so that it's off-putting). In a first-person email, I can't do that. I mean, I could, but, um, that would probably not have the desired effect.
Anyhow, I apparently managed not to mess up for once this weekend. Hoorah! Now onto further impressions in which I must get over my social anxieties, chill, and try to be "relaxed Kati" instead of "nervous and discomfort-inducing Kati."
Heavens to Betsy.
Um, so I had this dream last night that may or may not have had to do with a discussion with an almost-lawyer friend of mine regarding particle accelerators, dragons, and unicorns (it was a question of odds of events occurring -- unknown unknowns). She was anti-unicorns and dragons (even if the dragons happened to be cuddly), but we both agreed that if a black hole were to eat up the Earth, it wouldn't be the worst way to go (fast and with all your friends).
And then I had this dream last night. I can't remember all of it, but it involved a castle (damn you, Desperate Housewives?), and it was crumbling apart. I went to find some missing horses, and saw that their throats had been slit by rock chunks of the castle.
Then I headed towards the zoo (don't ask), where a bear (I think it talked) barreled through what appeared to be a forest of sprouts at me. It didn't manage to eat me, but it bit off a snake's head. And then another snake came at me. I think. It's all starting to fade.
So good things. To all those people who've been awesome to me recently, thanks for using your powers for good.
Saturday, May 17, 2008
Saturday la la la
Bitchin' brunch this morning with the old roommate at Du-Par's. Scrambled egg whites, hash browns (flat and hard on top, lumpy on bottom, just like they ought to be), and a biscuit. It was like heaven's brunch. Mm.
The New York Times has a little Q&A with Cynthia Nixon called, and I kid you not, "Chick Crit." No red flags, copy editors, not a one? Still, you should read the Q&A for its scintillating questions on why falling in love with a woman is awesome ("you can use the same bathroom in movie theaters!").
So back some time ago, I wrote that I read the Margot at the Wedding script and was unimpressed. I finally watched the movie today, just to see if it was just me not connecting with the page or something. But, boy, is Margot a nothing film. There are shows on HGTV more involving. So forgettable, it's quite stunning. I think the only thing that's held my interest has been the poster for the film. Something about Nicole Kidman's hat got me.
Okay, now I must get to work. Boy is getting stuff done hard at the moment.
Ooh, and I can't wait to talk about House on Monday. It's a "can't-miss" episode. Watch it.
The New York Times has a little Q&A with Cynthia Nixon called, and I kid you not, "Chick Crit." No red flags, copy editors, not a one? Still, you should read the Q&A for its scintillating questions on why falling in love with a woman is awesome ("you can use the same bathroom in movie theaters!").
So back some time ago, I wrote that I read the Margot at the Wedding script and was unimpressed. I finally watched the movie today, just to see if it was just me not connecting with the page or something. But, boy, is Margot a nothing film. There are shows on HGTV more involving. So forgettable, it's quite stunning. I think the only thing that's held my interest has been the poster for the film. Something about Nicole Kidman's hat got me.
Okay, now I must get to work. Boy is getting stuff done hard at the moment.
Ooh, and I can't wait to talk about House on Monday. It's a "can't-miss" episode. Watch it.
Friday, May 16, 2008
fall sked
I love me some sitcoms. And I love me some CBS. But the upcoming Jay Mohr thing, Project Gary, looks like the kind of heinous that gives birth to three-headed, man-eating frogs and says, "Ah, ain't that cute?"--I mean, seriously, people.
I'm reserving judgment on NBC's Life on Mars, which is the only other pilot I've seen anything from.
I've been hearing unawesome things about Blindness and War, Inc., which is extremely disappointing. Granted, no one liked the Sabrina remake either, and I happen to be madly in love with that film, so, who knows? The last word on aesthetics had always been "platypus."
I've been making some homemade lemonade, hand-squeezed lemons and all. Should I be pasteurizing that stuff? I'm a little nervous.
Also, oyster crackers are good.
I want to go on Ellen when they're giving away some awesome prize that I just don't care about, like the XBox, and while everyone's screaming, I just, like, look really pissed. That would be fun.
I'm reserving judgment on NBC's Life on Mars, which is the only other pilot I've seen anything from.
I've been hearing unawesome things about Blindness and War, Inc., which is extremely disappointing. Granted, no one liked the Sabrina remake either, and I happen to be madly in love with that film, so, who knows? The last word on aesthetics had always been "platypus."
I've been making some homemade lemonade, hand-squeezed lemons and all. Should I be pasteurizing that stuff? I'm a little nervous.
Also, oyster crackers are good.
I want to go on Ellen when they're giving away some awesome prize that I just don't care about, like the XBox, and while everyone's screaming, I just, like, look really pissed. That would be fun.
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
the open roadie
Saw Pico Iyer tonight at the Central Library tonight. He has the voice of a chickadee, the manners of a saint, and was a total pleasure to listen to. He talked mostly of the Dalai Lama. It was quite nice. I recommend listening to it on the Aloud podcast on iTunes.
Parking downtown was actually easy. I didn't even need a garage.
Parking downtown was actually easy. I didn't even need a garage.
Sunday, May 11, 2008
ffft
Did very little this weekend. Earned some money, spent some money, received nuts from my grandmother (I don't eat nuts), watched Alien: Resurrection and Mary Poppins during each other's commercial breaks (Mary Poppins v. Ridley--now that's a movie I'd watch)--you know, typical wasting your life away stuff. Am highly disappointed in myself. Boy, do I need a catalyst in my life right now. Gonna try to attend some readings this week. If I can get my quarter-century-old bones moving.
But I'm working on a little sketch that I'll post when it's done. Commence bating breath... now.
But I'm working on a little sketch that I'll post when it's done. Commence bating breath... now.
Friday, May 9, 2008
Aliens out of America
Unfortunately, that dear little sitcom, Aliens in America, has been whacked. Kind of new it was gonna happen, but still. Sad.
Thursday, May 8, 2008
flim
Worked a smidgeon on the film script today. It's just about the right length and nearly everything's in it that I want it. Maybe another 10 pages and some scene-shifting and I'll have my first film script all done!
Finished Winesburg, Ohio. The stories are very simple, but resonant with someone who went on long, raging walks whenever I felt too much under the world and not sufficiently of it. I think I read that Hemingway was influenced by Mr. Anderson, and it wouldn't surprise me in the slightest. However, I feel I would have loathed this book in high school, much like I couldn't take Willa Cather. Perhaps O, Pioneers! and My Antonia (which did I read?--can't recall) are more supportable as I approach my quarter-century mark.
Finished Winesburg, Ohio. The stories are very simple, but resonant with someone who went on long, raging walks whenever I felt too much under the world and not sufficiently of it. I think I read that Hemingway was influenced by Mr. Anderson, and it wouldn't surprise me in the slightest. However, I feel I would have loathed this book in high school, much like I couldn't take Willa Cather. Perhaps O, Pioneers! and My Antonia (which did I read?--can't recall) are more supportable as I approach my quarter-century mark.
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
Deranged Jane
I don't know how to say this without being rude, so I'd just like to cast your eye over to this link, where you will note one of the most abhorrent casting choices in recent memory.
Captioning a pilot for USA at present. Good actors, unoriginal premise, inorganic plot development, basically ridiculous thus far. But after 3+ days of poker, I'll take it.
Captioning a pilot for USA at present. Good actors, unoriginal premise, inorganic plot development, basically ridiculous thus far. But after 3+ days of poker, I'll take it.
Sunday, May 4, 2008
TV oddness and my broken passenger-side mirror
This weekend and parking was hard on me. And on my poor car. Did the Big Sunday thing, which was quite the workout.
But the fact that Standoff, which ended forever nearly a year ago here in the U.S., a good 7 months after the four people who were watching it stopped watching it, is currently airing in Australia brings a smile to my face. When I saw the commercial for it, I thought it was for The Ghost Whisperer, another show I don't watch. Oh, Australians!
I'm supremely looking forward to Brothers & Sisters tonight. Will Justin reveal his incestual desires to Rebecca? Will Ally McBeal snap Sam Seaborn's head off for no reason for the umpteenth time, at which point hubby will continue to bottle up his emotions? Will Ojai Foods implode, or will Saul do some "hard-time" in prison to both save the company and finally embrace his sexuality? Will Kevin stop whining and that other brother start being interesting? Will everyone eat dinner and start shouting? Gee, I hope so.
But the fact that Standoff, which ended forever nearly a year ago here in the U.S., a good 7 months after the four people who were watching it stopped watching it, is currently airing in Australia brings a smile to my face. When I saw the commercial for it, I thought it was for The Ghost Whisperer, another show I don't watch. Oh, Australians!
I'm supremely looking forward to Brothers & Sisters tonight. Will Justin reveal his incestual desires to Rebecca? Will Ally McBeal snap Sam Seaborn's head off for no reason for the umpteenth time, at which point hubby will continue to bottle up his emotions? Will Ojai Foods implode, or will Saul do some "hard-time" in prison to both save the company and finally embrace his sexuality? Will Kevin stop whining and that other brother start being interesting? Will everyone eat dinner and start shouting? Gee, I hope so.
Saturday, May 3, 2008
Iron Man, etc.
Despite the trouble I had before and after the movie (best be forgotten), I couldn't have been more pleased watching Iron Man. RDJ's a rock star, and the film was quite well done... except... it's mostly introduction. I mean, great-ass introduction, but it's a little weird that Tony Stark's biggest nemesis isn't either the Afghani wannabe or Obadiah, but his former self, really, and the evil he brought into the world. Actually, the majority of the film is about the outfit, tests and trials, which is enjoyable, but it's the making of a hero who doesn't really have to overcome much. He's rich, he's brilliant, so even when he's in trouble or injured, he's not really going through much. He doesn't really lose anyone (yeah, he's an orphan, but it doesn't seem to be a big deal), except one person, and while it's sad, it's not, like, ruinous. I feel like Tony Stark hurts Tony Stark (both physically and emotionally) more than anyone else. But, okay, I haven't read the comic books. I probably don't know what I'm talking about. Despite these structural curios (I'm not gonna say flaws because it's only a flaw if the film sucks), I enjoyed the film immensely. It's about time someone RDJ got Depped. Also, Jon Favreau's a great director. Never forget.
Went to Glendale to a Valley-version of the Grove. The fountain was nice. But there was a creepy gold statue in the middle of it all, which was a little Dionysian and cheaply gaudy.
Watched the Oprah interview with Mr. Cruise. He reminds me of a relative who will remain nameless. Not in any way that's good.
Trying to break down a new spec episode since my 30 Rock is officially obsolete. The ABC fellowship application, however, is not online yet. I want to enter one or two other programs but it's not gonna happen I think. The goal now is to finish a good spec for the Austin Film Festival. Sigh. This is going to be a rough month. YOU have no idea.
Went to Glendale to a Valley-version of the Grove. The fountain was nice. But there was a creepy gold statue in the middle of it all, which was a little Dionysian and cheaply gaudy.
Watched the Oprah interview with Mr. Cruise. He reminds me of a relative who will remain nameless. Not in any way that's good.
Trying to break down a new spec episode since my 30 Rock is officially obsolete. The ABC fellowship application, however, is not online yet. I want to enter one or two other programs but it's not gonna happen I think. The goal now is to finish a good spec for the Austin Film Festival. Sigh. This is going to be a rough month. YOU have no idea.
Friday, May 2, 2008
stand-up comedy
I'm not a performer. I've performed, yes, and enjoyed it quite a lot. But my heart does the crazy Ukrainian jig every time I'm in groups anyhow. When I'm in front of groups and they're watching, it's like Reno right now in my chest.
I know this is a surmountable problem, but I'm not in a surmounting place right now, so, hence, not doing the performer thing. Which is sad because writing is sort of not enough when no one's reading it. I'm not purely a paper and pen gal. I want to storytell and the storyteller needs the storytellee. Or, um, the storyhearer? I don't know. Audience. I read some of my work out loud in front of persons in New York, and I liked it because no one nodded off while I was reading, which, honestly, I do. That's my main goal. Don't cause somnia.
In any event slip and slid through the Steve Martin book today. Liked it much more than his weird little novels (no offense, Stevie). I like that he worked his rear end off to get to where he got... but he did get his first gig in writing from having dated the right girl. Sigh. SIGH.
I got an inflatable ball from an auto dealer's booth at the Sherman Oaks Festival a few weeks back. It is one of my nicest non-literary-related possessions.
I know this is a surmountable problem, but I'm not in a surmounting place right now, so, hence, not doing the performer thing. Which is sad because writing is sort of not enough when no one's reading it. I'm not purely a paper and pen gal. I want to storytell and the storyteller needs the storytellee. Or, um, the storyhearer? I don't know. Audience. I read some of my work out loud in front of persons in New York, and I liked it because no one nodded off while I was reading, which, honestly, I do. That's my main goal. Don't cause somnia.
In any event slip and slid through the Steve Martin book today. Liked it much more than his weird little novels (no offense, Stevie). I like that he worked his rear end off to get to where he got... but he did get his first gig in writing from having dated the right girl. Sigh. SIGH.
I got an inflatable ball from an auto dealer's booth at the Sherman Oaks Festival a few weeks back. It is one of my nicest non-literary-related possessions.
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