The Obstructed View

Why even bother?

2012-01-26T15:39:00.000-05:00

What's the time?

2012-01-20T16:00:00.000-05:00

The Colbert Report
Get More: Colbert Report Full Episodes,Political Humor & Satire Blog,Video Archive

Sometimes, I love a video clip so much, I want to marry it. This is one of those times. I love everything about this, right down to Mike D's argyle socks.

Coleslaw, cookies, cousins

2012-01-03T22:08:00.000-05:00

Mom's reaction as Uncle Fred ALMOST tastes the coleslaw with the fork he is using to toss it

First official distribution

Dreidel winnings...

...And the post-dinner victory coma

South Beach, 12/30/11

The Christmas without consensus

2012-01-02T19:53:00.002-05:00

Here's the headline of my 2011 winter vacation: I saw one movie.

I know. Alert boston.com; they might need to fire up their Breaking News font. I don't have any real idea what happened, though there are some possible theories:
1. My mom decided we didn't see as many movies as we usually do because Christmas fell on a Sunday. Alrighty.
2. There weren't that many good choices in the theater. Usually, I go to Florida armed with a list of at least three or four films I can't wait to see. This year, not so much. I saw the Descendants at the Coolidge Corner Theater before I left for Boca, so that was already checked off the list. (It's great, btw.) It didn't help that all of the potential movies seemed to be clocking in at more than two and a half hours. Did I mention it was 79 degrees and sunny every single day in Florida? Not exactly the weather that inspires sitting in a dark theater.
3. Lack of agreement. You try getting more than two relatives to agree on which movie to see. It doesn't help that a certain percentage of those relatives are currently transitioning into their grumpy, old person phase. Not that I am naming names, or laying blame. Though I think Fox News is somehow part of the problem.
4. As a result, I found myself retreating to the solitude and joy of reading. You don't need to reach a family consensus to pick up a book. I finished The Widower's Tale by Julia Glass. If you haven't read anything by Glass, get on it. I have enjoyed all her books, and this latest effort did not disappoint. Next I tackled The Art of Fielding by Chad Harbach. I loved this book so much, I wanted to finish it immediately/never finish it. It was funny and moving, with rich characters and amazing story telling. Did I mention it's his first novel? Holy talent. Seriously, everyone needs to read this book.

When it became clear that we weren't seeing any movies, I decided to read a book that has been made into a movie: Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close by Jonathan Safran Foer. I have never read anything by Foer, in small part because I had a feeling I would love his stuff, find him charming and brilliant, and than be annoyed/jealous that he married a girl I went to camp with. I was right on all counts. He wrote a really moving story, and he did something well that I really, really love: he captured the voice of a child with just the right humor and tone. I can't even stand it, thinking about his charming, brilliant life with his charming, brilliant wife who went to my camp. I am curious about the movie, which stars Tom Hanks and Sandra Bullock as the parents of the main character. That's a lot of Oscar winners for two characters who aren't really in the book. Still, I want to see it. Particularly when/if I am in need of a good cry.

I left Florida 155 pages into The Invisible Bridge by Julie Orringer. When I was about 80 pages in, I told my mom that it reminded me a little of Kavilier and Clay. I thought she'd be impressed with my astute observation. She paused and said, "Well Julie Orringer is friends with Michael Chabon." The moral of this story? Don't try to discuss a 700-page book with your mom the Book Club Facilitator when you're only 80 pages into it.

Oh and the one movie that I managed to see? The Artist. We saw it because it was showing at the right time and was only 100 minutes long. Seriously. It just so happened that it was terrific. It's pretty remarkable that a black and white, silent movie felt completely fresh and innovative. And thoroughly entertaining and delightful. I wish I could think of a more hip word than delightful, but honestly, when you see this movie, I think you'll agree. Unless you're in my family. Then you probably will do anything but agree. Sigh.

And so it begins

2011-12-16T13:31:00.000-05:00

Still in Boston, and the cookies are already out to get me. This one looks friendly enough, with her white icing bob and sprinkles shoes. Yet somehow I suspect her merry style is just a disguise for a more sinister plan. It's going to be a long, delicious holiday season.

H.I.T.s

2011-12-01T16:00:00.001-05:00

At the Cults/Two Door Cinema Club show last night, I found myself doing something I reflexively do at all concerts: 1) make sure I am not the oldest person in the room (I wasn't) and 2) check out the fashions of the hipsters that surround us.

I wasn't the oldest, but I wasn't the youngest, not by a long shot, not by 20 years. I am fine with that. Good music transcends. Except that at this all-ages show, the hipsters weren't really hipsters; they were more like Hipsters in Training. And among other annoying things about them, they have decided to champion two ridiculous trends.

The first: over-sized, dorky glasses. I get that the dorky factor is supposed to be ironic. I'm also pretty sure that about half of these people don't even need prescription glasses, and as someone who would bump into walls without contacts, that irks me. Glasses have come along way; they are cute and fashionable and can fit to any face size or shape. They don't need to be over-sized and purposefully square. You're not in the military, and you're not in the USSR, circa 1980. You have a choice of frames. You look ridiculous. Even you, Anne Hathaway.

The second: raggedity knit hats. It's been unseasonably warm in Boston. There's no need for a knit hat outside. There's absolutely no need for one inside. I feel like you're trying to fool somebody when you wear a hat like that. Are we supposed to swoon because you tucked all your dirty hair up inside a hat? Are we supposed to do a double take because you look like a ridiculous celebrity? Like, the most ridiculous celebrity you can think of. Like this guy.

Hipsters in Training, you're on notice.

Retro holiday

2011-11-29T15:09:00.001-05:00

I didn't drive or carry house keys.
My mom made all the meals or picked the restaurants.One night, my dad grilled.
We all went to the same movie and watched TV together. I wasn't able to watch GH.
I watched the parade in my PJs.
My parents fought about when to put the turkey in the oven.
They dragged me to a museum.
My dad told me to go to bed.
We looked at old pictures. And talked about family memories.
I slept in large T-shirts, the souvenirs of trips my parents took while I was at camp.
There was some nagging. And a little eye rolling. With occasional giggling.
And lots of M&Ms.

Hello, Thanksgiving 1986. 1986 with iPhones.

Give a little bit

2011-11-10T16:00:00.000-05:00

Everybody's got their something. Their school. Their synagogue/church/mosque. Their disease research. Their social cause. All worthy of donations of time and money. Please keep on keeping on. Since the season of giving is nearly upon us, allow me to share three inspiring ways to be as generous as we all can be:

I eat a lot of turkey. And, I love it. I love it all year long, and especially on Thanksgiving, when it precedes a nice turkey nap. So I was very happy to make a donation to the Greater Boston Food Bank's Turkey Drive, to ensure that families in need have turkeys on Thanksgiving. It seriously takes like four minutes to put some turkeys on the tables: www.gbfb.org/turkeydrive/

Confession time: I am an orchestra freeloader. I have a very generous friend who works for The Boston Symphony Orchestra, so I have been blessed with countless opportunities to hear world-class musicians in amazing venues, all for free. It's an embarrassment of riches, and I am truly fortunate. Since I never buy tickets, the least I can do is support the BSO. You can designate your gift to the BSO, Boston Pops, or Tanglewood annual funds, and your money goes beyond flute cases and cello strings -- the BSO also does some amazing community outreach and educational initiatives. I gave to Tanglewood this year, because that's how I roll: www.bso.org.

Do you like photography? Do you like children? Yeah, me too. I also really like my friends Heather and Adam, who founded Critical Exposure, which teaches students to use photography to become effective advocates for school reform and social change. Basically, they teach kids how to use cameras and take compelling pictures, and then the kids document the inequalities and injustices in their own schools and low-income communities. And then they change the world through public engagement and policy change. Isn't that the best idea ever? I'm so proud and happy to support their efforts, especially because I know my small donation can make a significant impact: www.criticalexposure.org/

I love movies, except when I really hate them

2011-10-31T16:59:00.000-04:00

I went to the Chestnut Hill AMC Theater to see the 7:45 showing of Footloose. I parked, walked in, looked up: no Footloose. No Footloose at 7:45; no Footloose anywhere. "Um, aren't you showing Footloose?" After a moment of silence and a blank stare, the theater employee managed to get out, "No."

Really? Because the Internet says you are. Isn't that the your whole system, right there? You use the Internet to tell us when the movie will be playing; we trust that information to be accurate and show up accordingly. You're already the worst movie theater in a 15-mile radius, and I was only going to give you my money because you happen to be playing Footloose at the time that worked best for me. We now are so over, we need a new word for over. I will NEVER set foot in your stupid theater again.

Disgusted, I returned home, and decide to cheer myself up by watching Love and Other Drugs. How bad could it be? It's got a whole lot of Jake Gyllenhaal in it, and I heard he gets naked. Oh. My. God. It's so bad. It's shockingly bad. I literally said out loud, to myself, "This is bad!"

Usually, when I think a movie is bad, I can find at least one thing in it to like. I am just that kind of glass-half-full movie reviewer. Like, this movie is dumb, but I love her apartment. Or, that didn't really work, but I love the song they played over the credits. Not the case with Love and Other Drugs. I just kept finding more ways that it failed. Here are a few:
1) It's supposed to take place in 1996. The opening scene is Jake selling electronics while the Spin Doctors' "Two Princes" merrily plays. Get it? Spin Doctors = the '90s! Except I know (really know, like I didn't have to look it up on Wikipedia or anything) that song came out in 1991. They played at Rachel's prom, I saw them in Boston the second week of freshman year, and by the time 1996 rolled around, "Two Princes" was Muzak in a elevator and the Spin Doctors were a VH1 footnote. Do your research, Love and Other Drugs. We're six minutes in, and I hate you already.
2) Jake has a brother in the movie, and he's played by Josh Gad. This is going to be mean, but this is Josh Gad:

Really? We're supposed to believe that he and Jake Gyllenhaal are BROTHERS? The producers decided that, of all the available actors in all the world, this guy seemed like the best guy to play a blood relative of Jake Gyllenhaal. If they really wanted to cast Josh Gad, they could have turned the brother into a friend.
3) So not only is Josh Gad Jake's brother, he's also supposed to have an Internet start up that had an $35 million IPO. Get it? It's the 90s! So he's very, very rich. Yet for some reason, when his wife leaves him about half way through the movie, he has to move in with Jake. If you had $35 million and your wife left you, would you a) just stay in your phat house, since she left you b) check in to a fancy hotel/rent a luxury apartment or c) sleep on your brother's couch in Pittsburgh. Well, you're not in Love and Other Drugs.
4) Anne Hathaway works in a coffee shop, has no health insurance, and pays for her very expensive medication with large wads of cash. I hate stuff like this in movies. Where is she getting her friggin' money?
5) I think we're supposed to believe that Anne Hathaway and Jake Gyllenhaal fall in love because they're both "damaged" and have "baggage." Except, it's never really clear what's wrong with him. He didn't finish college? His siblings are successful? I am not sure. All I can see is that he's really hot, super ambitious, incredibly charming, and very good at his job. She, on the other hand, is 26 years old and has Parkinson's. Somehow I think she wins on the baggage scale.
6) She also wear overalls. I think because she's supposed to be whimsical and artistic. But man, I hate overalls.
7) In movies like this, you're supposed to really like both the characters and root for them to be together. Well, I wanted to punch them in the face. I was rooting for them to break up, and was disappointed when they didn't. I don't think that was the intended reaction.

Looking back on my Sunday evening, I may have been better off staying at the hated Chestnut Hill AMC Theater and sitting in the theater that was not playing the 7:45 Footloose.

Mazel tov

2011-10-25T16:30:00.000-04:00

It's just the placement of the Cubs logo, but I think Theo is wearing a yarmulke in this picture.

Throw in his brand new suit, and Theo really looks like he's being called to the Torah today. He even wrote a very thoughtful speech for the occasion. My own heartfelt Bat Mitzvah speech was about the importance of not holding a grudge. Perhaps Theo consulted that same Torah portion when he decided to take the high road out of town. God speed, Theo. I hope you get to dance the Electric Slide all over Wrigley Field.

1.21 gigawatts

2011-10-20T17:17:00.000-04:00

I diligently followed Twitter, read some online analysis, and even discussed the death of Moammar Gadhafi with a women in my office. But when I really ponder the life and death of the former Libyan dictator whose reign of terror lasted my entire lifetime, my default thought always, always falls to this:

The Libyans Find Doc Brown
Back to the Future at MOVIECLIPS.com

Charmed, I'm sure

2011-10-19T16:28:00.000-04:00

In my recent online travels, I came across this funky jewelry designer, and I am awash in gift ideas for family and friends. My favorite is the pictured "Bi-Coastal" necklace, for the girl who has a piece of her heart in both California and New York. Like, for example, a girl who grew up in Brooklyn but now resides in L.A. This is the perfect necklace for Tara, people!

I sort of want to special order a Florida/Massachusetts combo for my sister. Oh let's be honest: I want to order it for me. And I'd like to find a friend who could wear Hawaii, because it's so weird looking, and Wyoming, because it's so plain and sad. And yes, I noticed Kansas also is plain and sad. But I look at my blog's analytics, and I know who my readers are, so I am not ever going to mess with Kansas.

Stay classy, Boston

2011-10-12T22:22:00.000-04:00

Ya'll, Boston is a shit show tonight. The Red Sox are losing it. And by it, I mean everything. Their minds. Their soul. Their manager. Their GM.

This crazy train is still rolling along, so perhaps it's too early to identify the tipping point in this particularly disheartening chapter of Red Sox history. The early front runner: fried chicken. Two weeks ago, the Sox missed the playoffs by one game. And extra RBI in June, a converted save in August, and who knows where we'd be tonight. Instead, we're up to our ears in smear campaigns and fried chicken. We're talking about marital troubles and prescription pain pill abuse. We're posting pictures to see who got fat during the season. We're naming names, pointing fingers, using anonymous sources. It's U-G-L-Y, and the Sox aint got not alibi.

Now Theo's in Chicago (God speed), and we're left to wonder which members of the current roster are going to get booed on Opening Day 2012. Forget about the joy, Mudville. I'd just like to see a little class.

Hey, Red Sox? One more thing:

iLoss

2011-10-05T20:30:00.003-04:00

iBook
iPod
iMac
iPhone 3GS

And that doesn't include my family's first Macintosh. I can't even remember the model, the one that helped me discover this whole writing thing. I can't count the songs I downloaded on iTunes or the hours I spent in the theater watching Pixar movies. Or the iChats shared with family and friends, or the iPhotos that hold safe my precious memories. He touched my world every single day, and almost always in a way that made it better. He raised his own bar to its highest heights and then continued to create, invent, inspire. When all is said and done, he'll be there with Edison, Ford, the Wright brothers. And yet, with his obituary leading with "passed away at age 56," I can't help feeling like we were robbed.

You're not the boss of me

2011-10-05T11:55:00.000-04:00

People throw around Must Read with carelessness. Its use is now commonplace and habitual, and I'd like it to stop. In this instant status update, over-sharing, 140 character world, I am constantly attacked with Must Read orders, followed by links. Stop telling me what to do. You put the link out there; I'll take that as your endorsement. It's implicit that you think the content is important. I might decide to click on it; I might even read it. That's up to me. And really, I can't think of anything I've read in recent history that's absolutely Must Read. Especially anything on the Internet. Enjoyable Read. Good Read. Interesting Read. Provocative Read. But Must?

To Kill a Mockingbird. That's a Must Read. And....that's it. Everything else is optional, bossypants. Which, by the way, is a Very Funny Read: http://www.amazon.com/Bossypants-Tina-Fey/dp/0316056863.

To whom it may concern

2011-09-30T16:00:00.000-04:00

I've been getting a lot of concerned looks, questions, expressions of sympathy. Which, I have to say, is super annoying. So for the record:
I'm fine. Please stop treating me like a victim. I am admittedly nuts, but I'm not a danger to myself or others. I promise.
That said, I hate EVERYTHING about the way the Sox season ended. EVERYTHING. There's no silver lining. No bright spot. No positive spin. Everything sucked. It sucked on Wednesday. It will suck forever.
And you know what? I can't really remember anything good as I look back on the entire season. Six months of my favorite team, favorite sport, favorite stadium, favorite obsession, and nothing to feel good about? Yikes. Upon serious reflection I came up with exactly two highlights, and one was not even on the field:

Here's the other:

That's it. The end. I don't want to think about it anymore. And I really don't want to talk about it. See you in Ft. Meyers.
I won't be watching the postseason. But I'll probably see the scores here or there. So in case you were wondering, I like:
Texas over Tampa. Texas forever.
Detroit over New York. Duh.
Arizona over Milwaukee. Um, I literally just had to look up the NLDS on the Internet to see who was playing. Then I flipped a coin. Heads, Arizona.
St. Louis over Philadelphia. St. Louis fans were so lovely to the Red Sox when they got swept in 2004. Conversely, Philly fans suck.
World Series: Detroit over Arizona. Does any city need a win more? Go Tigers.

Rearviewmirror

2011-09-26T14:49:00.001-04:00

I know this song-Like, every word-I have that CD-And that one-I saw that interview on MTV-I remember when that happened-I saw that concert-I remember those cargo shorts-I know this story and how it ends.

That was my inner monologue during the first 40 minutes of Pearl Jam Twenty, the documentary from Cameron Crowe that honors the 20th anniversary of the release of the band's Ten album. In truth, that's a little bit of my actual monologue, as I was so surprised and delighted by my own knowledge that I actually said out loud "I remember this!" (My sister really loved that.) The movie spoke to me, and told me something: I was a big Pearl Jam fan. I just had no idea. Perhaps that part of my brain had somehow been wiped clean by excessive Justin Timberlake exposure. Perhaps the last Pearl Jam show I attended was so full of nutso, every-lyric singing, city-to-city traveling, aging, bootlegging fans that I knew I couldn't possibly be one of them, and I just assumed that I wasn't really a fan at all.

But I think there's a place for people like me. People who remember Mother Love Bone. And know about Andy Wood. And Temple of the Dog. And read the Rolling Stone articles. People who bought the CDs. And watched all the videos on MTV and every report on MTV News. And thought about the lyrics. And went to see Singles. And can picture Eddie climbing the scaffolding on the side of the stage. And know how hot it was when they played Lollapalooza in Miami. And once had that very important feeling of connection to something new and special.

And who maybe haven't thought very much about Pearl Jam in the last 10 years. There's plenty of room on our iPhones.

Understatement

2011-09-22T11:17:00.000-04:00

File this one under Poorly Timed Email Campaign. I just received this from the Red Sox:

In the words of every sarcastic, nerdy outcast from a 1980s teen movie: "No shit, Sherlock." My home team needs more than my help; I am pretty sure what they need cannot be accomplished via an online vote. Groan. And while you're at it: fire the tool who sent this out today. Did I mention I hate everyone?

A rose by any other name

2011-09-08T13:55:00.000-04:00

She has several alter-egos:

-Neighborhood detective
-Cookie distributor
-Sender of gifts for Halloween, Valentine's Day, and the 4th of July
-Internet shopper
-Philatelist
-Blog reader and commenter
-World traveler
-Book club facilitator
-Fashion advisor
-Surprisingly skilled texter
-Netflix queue controller

But at the end of the day, she's most masterful in her role as Mom. Happy birthday, PSC!

That empty feeling

2011-09-05T20:51:00.001-04:00

Seriously, is there a sight more sad than this? See ya, summer.

In case of an emergency

2011-08-26T08:36:00.002-04:00

With Hurricane Irene churning her way toward New England, there's been a lot of media discussion about emergency preparedness. Most outlets recommend creating an emergency kit. I checked out the American Red Cross recommendations, to gauge my personal readiness:

Water—one gallon per person, per day (3-day supply for evacuation, 2-week supply for home) Check, thanks to the Great Boil Water Event of 2010.
Food—nonperishable, easy-to-prepare items (3-day supply for evacuation, 2-week supply for home) Peanut butter and a loaf of bread. We eat like kings in a hurricane!
Flashlight Check times two. Hello, I went to camp.
Battery-powered or hand-crank radio (NOAA Weather Radio, if possible) Check. Hurricane or not, I always have a transistor radio on hand for Red Sox games, of course.
Extra batteries Got the last D batteries at the CVS on route 9, and I also picked up extra AAAs for my TV remote. Check.
First aid kit Does a box of band aids count?
Medications (7day supply) and medical items Tums, Advil, and multi-vitamins. That's a check.
Multipurpose tool I wouldn't know what to do with a multipurpose tool, even if I had one.
Sanitation and personal hygiene items. Check. Bleh, I hate the term "sanitation items."
Copies of personal documents (medication list and pertinent medical information, proof of address, deed/lease to home, passports, birth certificates, insurance policies) Seriously?
Cell phone with chargers Check. Duh.
Family and emergency contact information Am I supposed to write it down? If I can't remember, I've got bigger problems.
Extra cash Even though I can see an ATM from my bedroom window, check.
Emergency blanket Um, check? But why? Is the hurricane also going to bring a 40-degree drop in temperature? I don't think I'll be needing a regular blanket, much less an emergency one.
Map(s) of the area I've lived in the same general area for 15 years. I don't think I am going to get lost.

Bring it, Irene.

But enough about you

2011-08-23T16:02:00.000-04:00

I have no patience for Chicken Littles. Unless the sky is ACTUALLY falling, I don't want to hear about it. I appreciate a good worry, but please don't get all crazy about what bad news MIGHT befall us, or what dissasters COULD have been. Keep it to yourself; there are more than enough real life, actually happening tragedies to fret about. It's probably not the most sensitive stance, but that's me, take it or leave it.

So you can imagine my disdain for everyone in my local area who decided to blow up Twitter and freak out Facebook with their "reports" of feeling the earthquake this afternoon. I didn't feel a thing. My sister in a big building in downtown Boston didn't either. That's all I need to know. No one was injured and the damage was minimal to non-existent. In the immortal words of Derrick Coleman, whoop-de-damn-do.

My only real moment of pause for concern: Is the coverage of this going to preempt General Hospital today? Damn it.

Ups and downs in section 39

2011-08-05T23:50:00.002-04:00

Good news: I went to the Sox game. It was a perfect evening. Not too hot, not too cold and NO RAIN. Cool view of the moon. My burrito was yummy and my beer was cold. And....amazing cell and data reception! A Fenway first. Huzzah!

Bad news: The 14-year-old Yankees fan sitting behind was so full of hate that everything that came out of his mouth was either completely profane, mildly homophobic, a total fabrication, or just plain bitter. How could someone so young be so angry? Why didn't his mom tell him to zip it? I wanted to punch him in the face.

Good news: I didn't actually punch him in the face.

Bad news: The strange, loud women next to me were even more annoying than Angry Teenager. Shrill voices, scrunchies, and nonsensical cheering. I was struggling to identify the reason for their behavior (they weren't drinking), until my sister nailed it: "They seem like they've been let out of somewhere." Exactly. A place called Crazy Town.

Good news: Despite all of this, I managed to have a good time. We took a little bathroom break/time out from Crazy Town, which helped immensely. We had a nice, unobstructed view of a close game, and there are plenty of fun people with a real sense of community in the bleachers. We fondly remembered our World Series game there, with the infamous "We're at the World Series! Anybody want some peanuts?" line from the man with the giant Ziploc bag of peanuts. Still amazing, almost seven years later.

Bad news: The Sox lost. Crap.

Lessons from my vacation

2011-08-04T14:31:00.001-04:00

Wrong turns will be made.

Ferries are fun.

If my 11-, 8- and 6-year-old cousins win the lottery, they are buying a house together. A house in the Berkshires. And Uncle Joe can stay there for free.

Beware of the undertow at Flying Point Beach. And if you do fall victim, beware the mocking.

Dessert is mandatory. Ditto for corn.

Southampton is pretty friggin' boring.

Don't ask a college senior about her future plans.

Surround-sound was designed for Return of the Jedi.

One of my cousins REALLY needs new glasses; the other is a shockingly bad Celebrity player.

Turning 11 = no more kids' table.

Water balloons are awesome. Even better when they're falling from the sky.

Cohens rock at Cohen Rock.

Blockbuster Monday: Friends with Benefits

2011-07-25T07:22:00.006-04:00

Disclaimer: this review is not going to be objective or thoughtful. It might not even be that well written. My judgment and perspective have been rendered useless by one Mr. Justin Timberlake. It doesn't matter what he does: his talent and charm are mesmerizing and magnetic. In Friends with Benefits, he has all his juju cranked up to about 100; I am so fully enamored that I don't know if I just saw this summer's Citizen Kane or Catwoman.

If I could regain my wits, I might be able to tell you Friends with Benefits was directed by Will Gluck, who also directed Easy A, a highly underrated high school comedy. In the same way that Easy A explored high school comedy with a clever eye and fresh dialogue, Friends with Benefits is a slightly a-traditional take on the romantic comedy. It's quick to point out all the cliches and fallacies of the genre, all while drawing its audience in with the very best of what a romantic comedy can offer. Or something like that. Did I mention JBGL and I also treated ourselves to 20-oz. Coke Slurpees for the occasion? Between the caffeine, sugar, and Justin, my brain is one hot mess.

Given all the stimuli, I didn't really notice how the film sometimes plays fast and loose with the details of reality, or how we could see certain plot "twists" coming like a freight train. I also wasn't able to fully appreciate a stellar supporting cast, which includes a hilarious Woody Harrelson and the uber-talented Patricia Clarkson, who is quickly cornering the market on the "quirky, hippie mom" role.

Really, it was all I could do to just focus on Justin and Mila, who are everything you want them to be. Adorable. Smart. Sexy. Alone, they each create the exact perfect characters to lead this movie: he, the man you want to be with; she, the girl you want to be. (Or whatever version that works for your gender or sexual orientation.) Together, they create a charismatic couple whose world you want to be in -- at one point JBGL said, "I just don't want this to end." And seriously, if your BFF declares that she doesn't want a movie to end, then no matter how hopped up on Coke Slurpees and Justin's abs you are, you can safely say that movie is pretty okay. I think. Right?

Beat the heat

2011-07-22T09:26:00.003-04:00

Not only am I beating the heat, I am destroying it. And, I am beating boston.com to the punch with my own list of heat-beating tips. Mine are simple, no annoying photo gallery required:
1. Go to the movies. And again.
2. Shower. Rinse. Repeat.
3. When you're home, pants optional.
4. Celebrate National Ice Cream Month with fervor.
5. Don't complain. It could be winter.
6. Sweat. It's okay. And sort of sexy.
7. Drink everything. Water. Iced tea. Sangria. (Also known as breakfast, lunch and dinner.)
8. Pretend. Pretend that stifling hot wind is a cool breeze. Pretend you're ice skating, not sweltering in your office. Just pretend.
9. Think about all your relatives who refuse to air condition their apartments or houses. When you shake your head at their stubbornness/stupidity, you'll feel cooler.
10. Do something crazy. Like put your sheets in the freezer. Or swim in a DCR pool. (Note: I haven't done either of these things. But, I'm not crazy.)

Dog ears

2011-07-20T12:24:00.002-04:00

Thanks to the ever-present hum (howl?) of my window AC unit, I can't hear a thing. I can't hear people coming down the hall. I can't hear my coworkers talking. I can't hear if the CD in my laptop is moving or the document I just sent to the printer is ready. I can't hear phone conversations, and I can't hear sound from video or music clips.

However, my colleague who sits five offices away from me (approximately 50 yards) brought her puppy in today, and he's starting to bark. Somehow, I can hear that all day long.

Can you canoe?

2011-07-19T12:18:00.002-04:00

Question: With whom would you most like to get in a canoe?
Answer: Is Justin Timberlake available? No? Then I'll go with my sister.

You guys, my sister is really good at canoeing. We both joke about our Tapawingo canoe skills. But I was really joking; I don't remember anything. Except how to put a life jacket on in the water. I can take that particular talent to the bank. She's no joke. She actually remembers all the strokes and the terminology. She's really good at steering. She knows how to to get in and out of a canoe safely. She says she knows how to do an on-the-water passenger transfer. And how to get into the canoe from the water. And how to swamp a canoe, and paddle in a swamped canoe. Fortunately we didn't have to test any of those skills. But I believe she can do all of those things. That girl can canoe. I'm not aware of the value for "good at canoeing" in today's market, but it's certainly a positive and appreciated quality, at least according to me.

All I had to do was paddle forward. And not capsize. And try to take pictures of us with my phone. So I get about a 70% on our canoe adventure: we stayed dry and made it back alive, but I failed to document the journey with even one decent photo. Oops.

Fun things, summer edition

2011-07-12T15:23:00.000-04:00

Open markets
Movies
Lobster rolls
Evening walks
Summer hours
Tans
Day games
Patio dining
Fresh vegetables
Ferry travel
Tank tops
Frozen yogurt
Nature hikes
New playlists
Family visits
Taking pictures
Pedicures
Long weekends
Free slurpees
Two-shower days
Cold beers
Wavy hair

Blockbuster Monday (Tuesday): Transformers 3

2011-07-05T10:39:00.000-04:00

If we look at the summer movie season as a mountain, July 4th weekend is the peak. It's "This Body Climbed Mt. Washington," so my philosophy has always been to go big and go loud. This year may have marked the peak of the peaks -- the literal Everest of July 4th movies -- when my sister and I decided to tackle Transformers 3: Dark of the Moon. In 3D. And IMAX. Bring it.

First, the warnings: the movie is an astounding two hours and 34 minutes. Your butt will fall asleep. You will eat popcorn for dinner. And because you're paying for 3D and IMAX, you will throw down a cool $17.50 for the privilege of extra special plastic glasses. And you will have to get there early, because the nerds aren't messing around with this one, and you don't want to be caught in the front row for a IMAX movie.

Second, the humans: they're better than they were in Transformers 2, which isn't saying much, but it's something. Meghan Fox is gone, replaced by some British model. She uses her real accent and wears glasses and pencils skirts, so I guess we're supposed to think she's smart and serious. Shia LeBeouf is pretty whiny, making it all the less believable that he'd ever be with the hot British supposedly smart girl; I think I have to officially file him in the I Don't Get It drawer. We also see Patrick Dempsey as a not very scary villain, Frances McDormand, John Malkovich, and John Turturro. On paper, these people look like a strong cast. But no one is there for them. We're there for the robots.

So finally, the robots: Director Michael Bey heard the boos, and focused the story and action on the robots. Good move. There's some sort of civil war/double cross between the Autobots and the Decepticons that doesn't exactly hold together. Whatever they're fighting about starts on the moon (amazing), brings them to D.C. (pretty cool), touches down all over the world (classic Michael Bey) and ends in Chicago (shut the front door). What happens in Chicago is visually stunning, and full of "how did they do they?" -- particularly because the lil' sis and I were there in the middle of the shoot last summer. Apparently Bey took the same architectural boat tour that we did, and then he dreamed up all the ways he could use/destroy the city's amazingly diverse skyline. He cranked up the volume, unleashed the CGI nerds, and tore up Chicago, and really, the screen. Done and done. Summer movies 2011, I suspect it's all downhill from here.

News analysis: Today is a good day

2011-06-16T12:06:00.002-04:00

Gray skies are gonna clear up, put on a happy face and tour the headlines on boston.com today.

Lead story: Parade Saturday
The point size, the brevity. Nothing else to say.

Second story: Mass. unemployment rate drops to 7.6 percent
We got the Stanley Cup, and we got jobby jobs, too.

Third story: Weiner to resign over sexting scandal
No more shirtless pictures from the Congressional gym. My Eyes 1, Creeps 0.

Fourth story: Harvard may revive Allston expansion
Good for the neighborhood, and sort of satisfying that big bad Harvard may have to partner up with outside investors to get it done. Are they serving humble pie in the Square today?

Fifth story: DiMasi found guilty in corruption trial
Okay, this one is sort of a disgrace. But hey, at least he was found guilty. Justice prevails again! (I'm seeing a theme running through today's news.) And has there ever been a bigger Bruins fan than Sal DiMasi? The House speaker is probably going to jail, and I had to scroll down three times to see the story. His PR firm should organize their own victory parade. But just not on Saturday.

Blockbuster Monday: A review of Super 8

2011-06-13T15:01:00.005-04:00

Here's a tip: if your movie features a little boy who cries, I am probably going to love it. Maybe he's crying because his dad took one too many punches to the head, or he's visiting his dying mother in the hospital, or he's saying goodbye, forever to his alien best friend. Or in the case of Super 8, he's just really friggin' scared. If the tears are believable and the emotion is real, it's probably a safe bet that the rest of movie can deliver as well. Super 8 does just that: it's emotional and sweet, with just the right amount of humor and nostalgia. And it's also got a lot of big bad bang, so we never forget what it really set out to be: a good old fashion summer blockbuster.

I could write four paragraphs about director J.J. Abrams and his relationship with producer Steven Spielberg, and use all sorts of boring words like homage and reverence. If you've seen E.T. and/or Close Encounters of the Third Kind (and let's face it, if you haven't, I probably don't know you and you're not reading this blog), you'll get it. Super 8 movie drips Spielberg from the hazy days of a late 1970s suburban summer, to the guileless charm of middle school boys and their simple yet strong friendships. But since Mr. Spielberg has recently been tackling headier topics, these little tips of the cap feel fresh and new. It's as if we didn't know we were missing something at the movie theater, until J.J. Abrams showed up and said, "Hey, remember this? It's awesome and you loved it."

In his pursuit of crafting the perfect summer movie, Abrams gets a big assist from his talented young cast of unknown actors, who act their butts off in this. I'll also give a shout out to Coach Taylor (Kyle Chandler), who is padding his resume with "awesome dad" parts. I did think it was a little weird that Abrams cast his Cloverfield star in this movie, but maybe there really aren't as many working alien actors as I thought. Of course by the time he shows up, the audience is so tightly wound just from fleeting glimpses and quick jabs, it almost doesn't matter who or what the enemy is. We just know he's big, bad (sort of), and super scary. Which is basically all we want to know. We want to jump in our seats. We want to laugh nostalgically. And we want our heartstrings tugged. Check, check and check.

Waiting for Winslow Homer

2011-05-30T22:33:00.000-04:00

Two Lights State Park -- Cape Elizabeth, Maine

Rainy days and Tuesdays

2011-05-17T10:18:00.003-04:00

The heat is on in my apartment. Yay, spring.

I don't usually like to make the first move, but I am pretty much in love with Adrian Gonzalez.

It's official: 2011 is the year I became too old for the KISS Concert. And I don't even feel sad about it. Here are some of the "headliners:" The Ready Set. Tinie Tempah. Far East Movement. Big Time Rush. Jessie J. What? These sound like made-up band names.

When I saw the preview for Friends with Benefits with Justin Timberlake, I almost fainted from the cuteness. It was a good thing I was sitting down. He's hosting SNL this week. Smart money would say not even Justin can save SNL. But, honestly -- would you bet against him?

Speaking of cute: you saw this, right?

When I eat birthday cake, I save the icing for last, because it's the best. That's also how I watch Friday Night Lights. I save it until I can't wait even one more minute to dive in. When each episode ends, I am completely happy because it was delicious, but also a little sad because I know I am one week closer to the end of the series. Sigh.

On the other end of the spectrum, Outsourced has been canceled. Not rewarding dumb premise and slightly racist jokes? Who knew? Yet, Celebrity Apprentice marches on. Really, NBC? Really.

I can't stop listening to Hot Sauce Committee Part Two. Make some noise if you're with me.

Smarties do not make you smarter. They might actually make you dumber. Dumber looking, anyway, because the first two ingredients are dextrose and citric acid. You might as well just yank your own teeth out before they rot. And Smarties also make you feel dumb. Like when you eat 10-15 rolls of them, and give yourself a stomach ache. Please don't ask me how I know that.

Blockbuster Monday: A review of Bridesmaids

2011-05-16T16:33:00.005-04:00

We can judge movies by any number of criteria: story, acting, directing, visual effects, originality, topicality and beyond. But sometimes it's just about how the movie makes you feel when the credits roll and the lights come up in the theater. Bridesmaids made me feel good. It also sort of made me feel like I had been worked over by Jillian Michaels, as my ab muscles crunched overtime from laughing so hard.

Men of America (yeah, Dad, I am talking to you): you will like this movie. It's not about weddings. Yes, the titular bridesmaids go dress shopping, plan a bachelorette trip, throw a bridal shower. But in this movie, those bridal milestones have very little to do with pink dresses and petit fours, and instead supply some of the best, most hysterical laughs. Laughs that are big and funny. Laughs that are a little gross and cringe-worthy. Laughs that are all Kristen Wiig.

This isn't a movie about traditional wedding romance, either. We barely even see the groom, and we have no idea why the bride (Maya Rudolph) loves him. We don't know how they met; we don't worry that they might not make it to the alter. The heart of this movie comes from the amazing friendship between maid of honor Annie (Wiig) and bride Lillian (Rudolph). Their friendship, so full of love and ease, is what grounds us, as the tornado of zaniest spins all around them. It's what makes us feel good.

We also can feel good about old pal Sookie St. James (I know, her real name is Melissa McCarthy, but come on, it's Sookie) who steals every scene, and the surprisingly sweet and charming relationship between Annie and an inexplicably Irish state cop (Chris O'Dowd). And we can feel real darn good about Wiig, who co-wrote this smart, funny movie, and shines in every scene. Everyone seems determined to label Bridesmaids. "It's the female Hangover.... It's a sis-mance." Ugh. I'd like to say: "It's really funny. You'll love it."

Anchors away

2011-05-11T09:10:00.001-04:00

Yesterday at the gym, I read the People magazine article about Katie Couric. For the record, I think it's okay to read People if you're working out at a moderate to vigorous rate. Among other things, I learned a little more about Katie's current boyfriend, who happens to be 17 years younger than her. He's 37, a green entrepreneur, probably Jewish, and was the captain of the Williams tennis team in 1996. "Great," I thought. "Katie Couric stole my husband. How I am supposed to compete with the woman who asked Sarah Palin what newspapers she regularly reads? No fair."

Last night, I had a vivid dream. I am sitting on a couch with some friends and family. Anne Curry sits down next to me, and tells me she has a great guy she wants to fix me up with. She goes on and on, in her typical Anne Curry way, about his credentials and great qualities, breathlessly trying to convince me he's the perfect match. She completely embarrasses me in front of everyone. But as always, I am gracious. "Give him my number, Anne; I'd be happy to meet him. And thank you so much for thinking of me."

Getting the monkey off our backs

2011-05-06T09:18:00.002-04:00

When your team is under .500, you find joy in weird places. I like his jaunty pose. Just a pink monkey hanging out on this stroller, don't mind me.

Cheering for laundry

2011-04-28T11:02:00.002-04:00

The closet of my high school bedroom is my own buried time capsule. Prom dresses. Text books and school projects. Camp memorabilia. And an oversized night shirt emblazoned with Snoopy dribbling a basketball over the words Miami Heat.

We throw around "old school" because it's fashionable and nostalgic. But if there's anything in my life that is truly old school, it's my fandom of the Miami Heat. I was there at the very beginning. The 15-67 beginning, patiently watching Rony Seikley, Grant Long, and "Pearl" Washington stink up the court night after night. Grant Long's mom wore a fabulous sweatshirt, bedazzled and rhinestoned with "Mrs. Long" across the front. We were not in the fancy pants American Airlines Arena on the shore of Biscayne Bay, but the old Miami Arena, located in Overtown. Do you remember the Overtown riots? Yes, that Overtown.

I cheered them through the Sherman Douglas and Glenn Rice years, and glimpsed hope with Tim Hardaway and Alonzo Mourning. I grew up, moved away, and followed them from afar, though admittedly with less interest. Not only in them, but in the NBA on the whole. When I wasn't looking, they drafted Dwayne Wade, turned awesome, and won a championship. It was surprising and delightful, not just for the sake of winning, but because in Wade we finally had a superstar that was that perfect combination of talented and likable. Hungry, humble, and (just for mom) tattoo free. We weren't just rooting for laundry, we were rooting for him.

The team's success wasn't sustainable, and my interest waned again, reduced to basically feeling sorry for Wade and waiting out the NBA season so everyone could focus exclusively on baseball. Then came The Decision. When it happened, I didn't know how to feel. Happy? Hardly. The Heat had become the exact team I would hate most, if they were any other team than the Heat. But I couldn't just drop 23 years of loyalty because of one big fat basketball baby.

Or could I? I sort of did. I didn't root against the Heat, but I didn't really root for them. I tried rooting only for Wade, but that's kind of hard to do in a team sport. I found myself watching games televised from the American Airlines Arena with disdain. Disdain for Lebron and for the lazy late-arriving/early-leaving fans in their stupid white shirts. Disdain? Not exactly the feeling of a super fan. And mostly, I didn't watch at all.

So here we sit on the eve of a playoff series between my first favorite team and my adopted hometown. I remain conflicted. The C's don't rank that high on the likability scale either, but they don't have the Decision stain. There's something to be said for civic pride, and my driver's license notes I am a citizen of Boston. And I like parades. But can a girl with a Miami Heat night gown hanging in her closet ever really escape from that sartorial history? I'm not sure I care enough to find out.

Angry birthday

2011-04-12T15:28:00.000-04:00

Today is the birthday of a certain loyal blog reader and awesome friend. I won't tell you how old she is, but let's just say she's now as old as me, and both of us are probably a little beyond our cake and ice cream years. But if we still celebrated with themed cakes, and if I had inherited even an ounce of my mom's baking talent, there's no question what I'd whip up for her this year.

Happy birthday, JBGL! Now, go kill some pigs.

View finder

2011-04-11T00:17:00.000-04:00

Apparently, this little girl is a regular reader of this blog and thought I needed yet another obstructed view at Fenway. Big ups to the guy next to me who eventually asked her to remove her offending head piece. And hey, I saw a win! I mean, I sort of saw it.

Red Sox season to date: a lesson in adjectives

2011-04-07T08:50:00.002-04:00

Since opening day, that Red Sox have caused me to feel (in chronological order):
Disappointed
Surprised
Annoyed
Impatient
Frustrated

That's the reasoned, mature public front. My inner monologue goes something more like this:
Pissed
Freaked
Panicked
Despondent
Miserable

First pitch is at 12:05 today. What do you say, team? How about you show up and play.

Gotta get down to the bus stop

2011-04-04T11:36:00.001-04:00

I think I can finally forgive Jimmy Fallon for the whole Fever Pitch clusterfrig.

Hello, Sodapop!

2011-03-29T09:08:00.000-04:00

Somewhere, if he can muster up a lucid moment, Charlie Sheen is thinking long and hard about his definition of winning.

(This one is a special dedication to my high school BFF, who definitely was an early adopter when it came to the magic of Rob Lowe. She jumped on the Lowe love train in the Oxford Blues-St. Elmo's Fire-About Last Night heyday and never looked back. I was a little slower to the party, only realizing his early greatness in a retro way, but I was more than on board in time for the Sam Seaborn era.)

Spring break in pictures and haiku

2011-03-27T20:39:00.001-04:00

We stood in his house
We saw his cars and airplanes
We purchased magnets

Super moon, rising
Photographer stands alone
Where is his man shawl?

Jacoby leads off
OMG, I love Spring Break
Nothing is better

We all will be received in Graceland

2011-03-19T09:39:00.001-04:00

In the end, after the bright lights of Beale Street had dimmed, after the spicy hot taste of Gus's Fried Chicken had melted away, after the sparkle of yet another white jump suit in a glass case had faded, it came down to one man. Not that man. Or even that man. It came down to a beloved professor of history, one taken too soon, but whose lessons remain strong and call out to me in surprising places. We talked about him as we studied at the National Civil Right Museum, and thanked him for all the knowledge we already possessed. And even after, when I wondered about Memphis, and how it seemed so ripe with potential but so full of disappointment, I thought of him, as I struggled to recall his lectures on urban renewal and the northern migration. I imagined gathering the courage to drop him an e-mail to share my observations, and the thoughtful response that I'd be so honored to receive. In the absence of this dialogue, I take comfort in the message he shared, and how strong it remains with me all these years later.

I'm looking at ghosts and empties
But I've reason to believe
We all will be received
In Graceland

Slapdashing before Spring Break

2011-03-10T11:29:00.000-05:00

I feel sorry for "winning." Can you think of another word that has been devalued so quickly and significantly?

I did NOT buy the adorable $50 Vineyard Vines Red Sox flip flops. So yes my passion does know an end.

I am excited to go to Memphis, and I have the Google Map to prove it. I am equally delighted by the potential post-visit blog entry titles. Walking in Memphis, indeed.

Hi, D&D Munchkins. I see you over there in the back of the office. I hear you calling me, even over the growls of my stomach. But I looked you up, and one of you is the same amount of points as a whole container of Greek yogurt topped with blueberries. So, suck it, Munchkins.

Not so shocking lack of self awareness

2011-03-01T10:06:00.000-05:00

The cover story investigates various media outlets that are rushing to make money on Kate and Wills' nuptials. It cites movie makers, publishing houses, TV networks and all their greedy efforts to turn love into dollars. Magazine publishers, like ones that put a sparkling, Photoshopped picture of the happy couple on the cover of an entertainment magazine, are apparently above the fray. Hello, kettle? This is the pot. You're black!

Toy land, toy land, little girl and boy land

2011-02-17T16:50:00.004-05:00

I love the inherent zaniness of toy shows. All product shows breed a certain level of insanity, but there's something about the toy industry that screams coo-coo convention. With two major toy shows within the last month, I've taken particular note of some memorable web images:

My extended family often buys a board game or puzzle around Christmas time, so we have something to do when we're all in one house (something other than eat and talk about our next meal). For the last couple of years, we've been playing Apples to Apples. Then I saw this picture of a soon-to-be-released Angry Birds table top game. Um, how do you like them apples?

Hasbro is coming out with Battleship LIVE, which among other things can add unexpected elements to the game, like an iceberg that sinks ships. And yet, I still feel fairly confident that I can take all three Weinstock boys in this version. Well, at least Nathan.

In honor of Ken's 50th anniversary, it's "Sweet Talkin' Ken." Confession: I was totally into Barbie and Ken around age 10. I had the Barbie McDonald's, okay? Looking at this picture, I had a revelation: I think Ken was my first gay friend!

This is the picture used to showcase a remote-controlled helicopter from a company named Silverlit. I did a little research, and I am fairly certain Silverlit is not located on Pandora. So can anyone explain why they decided to hire a Na'vi as their booth model?

Is this available on Amazon? If so, I have a genuine fear that I am going to see one of my cousins driving this thing down Little Cobb Rd. in July.

To promote the new slimmed-down Mr. Potato Head, Hasbro sent this guy to a gym near the convention center. I applaud the clever marketing. I mean, who is NOT going to run a picture of a giant Mr. Potato Head on a treadmill? And, I think it's great fodder for a write your own caption contest. Feel free to make your submission in the comments section. But does Mr. Potato Head really need to slim down? I know the obesity problem in this country is serious; I am just not sure that svelte Mr. Potato Head is the solution.

xoxo, LBC

2011-02-14T10:54:00.001-05:00

Happy Truck Day

2011-02-08T11:44:00.001-05:00

www.mymms.com/mlb/

The entry also might be called: Things I Expect to Find in My Stocking Next Christmas.

Unstoppable

2011-02-06T23:13:00.000-05:00

Not that I had even a sliver of doubt: Dana B. Nielsen's perfect record remains intact. It's been 13 years, 10 cakes (three no cake years: the birth of his second daughter, attending the game in person in Arizona, and the mystery of 2000, when he just didn't decorate a cake and can't remember why not), four kids, countless non-believers. He admits that the burden of greatness is starting to weigh on him. Is this how Joe Dimaggio felt in '41? At a perfect 10-0, I have to believe we're entering uncharted territory. Rarefied air. Step aside, Nostradamus, Cassandra and every single one of Dionne Warwick's psychic friends. The man is a legend.

4 weeks, 4 snow days

2011-02-02T12:05:00.000-05:00

And it's come to this:

Watch extended storm coverage on channels 4, 5, 7 because I am powerless to look away.
Work. Really!
Stand at my window and watch weary, wet drivers dig out cars. Feel like jumping out my window.
Check Facebook. Play Angry Birds. Repeat.
Research Sox spring training schedule.
Listen to the sounds of plows, bulldozers, and shovels.
Look up difference between sleet and freezing rain.
Online shop for new brown boots. Who said inclement weather is bad for the economy?
Try to make my sister (who had to go into work) laugh via e-mail.
Call mom in Florida for sympathy. Feel worse when she doesn't answer.
Think about vacuuming, but decide to wait until later.
Plan route to the gym. Car or T? Car or T?
Call Jenn. Talk to Amiel.
Pray to be excused from Friday's scheduled jury duty.
Study extended forecast. Consider permanent move to Dominican Republic. They have schools there, right?

Possible Dates for the SOTU Prom

2011-01-25T11:48:00.004-05:00

Members of Congress are buying corsages, renting stretch limos, and scrounging up bipartisan prom dates for tonight's State of the Union Address. My short list includes:
1. My dad -- the only conservative I really genuinely love.
2. Derek Jeter -- for me, being a Yankee is actually a bigger problem than being a conservative. If I am going to cross "party" lines, he might as well be hot.
3. One of the Romney sons -- good hair.
4. Bobby Jindal -- His star is rising, so it would be smart to get to know him now. Even if he doesn't end up in the White House, he'll always have Saints tickets and Mardi Gras beads.
5. Kirk Cameron -- I don't know about his political leanings, but we are definitely on the opposite end of the religious spectrum. I'd be bringing a touch of civility to the chamber, and living out my teenage dream. Win-win.

Love: exciting and new

2011-01-24T08:28:00.000-05:00

Something new and different for the Jetta and me: negative temperatures! It might be time to start drinking hot drinks. Or maybe, it just might be time to start drinking.

Who's that girl?

2011-01-19T16:01:00.000-05:00

I love this picture so much. First, I am pretty sure Olivia Wilde is married, but she and Ryan Gosling are adorable together. They will henceforth be my favorite pretend celebrity couple. But the real star of this picture is that lady right in the middle of the frame. Sitting at the booth, smoking a cigarette (inside? in L.A.?), big old black headband, bad dye job, drunk crazy eyes. I can smell her stale breath and hear her haggard smoker's voice. Where did she come from? Did she transport into the party in her time machine from the 1982 Golden Globes? How did she get so close to Olivia and Ryan? Perhaps the organizers of the Golden Globes should spend less time fretting about Ricky Gervais' jokes and more time beefing up security.

Look, Mom: I can follow directions

2011-01-09T07:51:00.001-05:00

I think it was the exclamation point that made the difference between success and failure.

Not-so-long national nightmare over

2011-01-05T11:22:00.001-05:00

Jake and Taylor broke up. Huzzah! I shouldn't care, but their now-defunct "relationship" really bugged me. First Prince of Persia, then Taylor Swift: 2010 did not exactly scream "finest hour" for Jake. Not that he's even remotely finished paying for this particular misstep: just how many songs is Taylor going to write about this chapter? Go ahead and pencil in another highly-anticipated off-key performance at next year's VMAs. What rhymes with Gyllenhaal?

Retro list

2011-01-03T14:50:00.002-05:00

I used to write up an annual list of In/Out predictions and (gasp) e-mail it to my friends and family. I wrote my last list in 2006. Then I launched a blog and decide that blogs were in and In/Out lists were out. That was five years ago, but every January, I inevitably get an e-mail or run into somebody asking me when I am writing my list.

Here's the list I wrote for 2006:

In                             Out
Hard pretzels              soft pretzels
Torino                         Menino

trying spying

third base short stop

Charlie Cards T passes

Eliot Spitzer Patrick Fitzgerald

crystal meth cocaine

apples oranges

Superman Spider-Man

Spike Lee Tommy Lee

pigeons penguins

Fugees Black Eyed Peas

stripes polka dots

Joe Lesser Joe Lieberman

Jenny Lewis Anna Nalick

Rob Corddry Rob Zombie

fundraising fundamentalists

LC Jason

Aniston Gardner

mid-term elections mid-term exams

Mr. Eko Locke

X3 MI3

sandals sand

iTrip satellite radio

Keith Urban Keith Richards

commitments committees

Nick KFed

Hindsight is a little rough on the prediction business, and five years seem like an eternity. Some of my predictions have held up pretty well: T-passes, Lieberman, Spider-Man, oranges, and cocaine are still very out, in my opinion. But time has not been kind to my predictions on Elliot Spitzer, who is now most certainly an out, and Keith Richards, who is very definitely an in. And some of these are so dated I actually had to google them to remember what I was talking about -- iTrip? Torino? Jenny Lewis? LC and Jason?

The only thing this list confirms is that I am not resurrecting this practice for 2011. In the age of social media, it just seems clumsy.Can you tweet a list like this? Then forget it.

Let's go to the movies, let's go see the stars

2011-01-02T20:57:00.000-05:00

What do other people do during winter vacation? Do they drink cocktails at sunset? Attend nightly holiday parties? Clean out their closets? Write resolutions? I'm sure that's fun. I'd rather watch as many movies as possible.

Black Swan (West Newton Cinema) K-Ry and I kicked off winter break with Darren Aronofsky's latest examination of human struggle. It was remarkably similar to his last film, The Wrestler, in that I spent a solid third of the movie with my hands over my eyes and strong desire to run screaming from the theater. The phrase "hard to watch" was invented for Darren Aronofsky. Still, I was mesmerized by Natalie and her exploration of perfection, insanity, and beauty. But I think metal nail files and I are through.

The Fighter (Cinemark Palace 20) All four Cohens enthusiastically agreed to see The Fighter, so we were already winners before we entered the theater. And what's not to love? Underdog triumphs over adversity: Hello, I was on the blue team. Add in Lowell, Mass., Mark Wahlberg in his skivvies, and some truly awesome early 1990s fashions. But the real reason to see this movie is Christian Bale. He commands every scene, nails the accent, and finds a way to make his character both very appealing and despicable.

Joan Rivers: A Piece of Work (DVD) I didn't go into this movie with a strong opinion of Joan Rivers, either way. This documentary taught me to admire her work ethic, sense of self, and her frankness, though I sort of wonder how much she was getting paid for all of her honesty. Because if we learn one thing from this movie, is that Joan will get paid.

The King's Speech (Frank Theatre Mizner Park) We added Uncle Joe to the mix for this one. Fun family fact: Uncle Joe was born on May 12, 1937 -- the day of King George VI's coronation! In tribute to my uncle, this movie is "terrific." Each and every performance, from Firth, to Bonham Carter, to Rush, is masterful. It's so much more than a movie about a king with a stammer. It's about the challenges of family and responsibility. (In this way, it's very similar to The Fighter.) It's about leadership and love. But more than anything, it's about courage.

How Do You Know (Cinemark Palace 20) This movie was a lot better when it starred Holly Hunter, Albert Brooks, and William Hurt, was set in the 1980s, and named Broadcast News. I almost always like James L. Brooks' work, but did he really think he could just sub in Reese Witherspoon, Paul Rudd, and Owen Wilson, give them smaller cell phones and call it a new movie? I feel obligated to say something positive, because it's not a bad movie, it's just not a good movie. Reese has really cute clothes in this. That's positive, right?

Easy A (DVD) This movie is the opposite of Black Swan -- it is very easy to watch. You can always sign me up for clever. Emma Stone just keeps getting better and better, and there's also a surprisingly strong and scene-stealing supporting cast: I'm talking to you Patricia Clarkson and Stanley Tucci. But the best part of the movie came at the end, when my dad asked me what else the kid who played the love interest (Penn Badgley) has been in.
Me: He's in Gossip Girl.
Dad: What the hell is that?
There's your Q rating, Penn.

True Grit (Cinemark Palace 20) Do I like Westerns? I am not sure. I like this one. I like Matt Damon, who manages to be handsome and charming, even though I think he's supposed to be sort of ridiculous. I like the little girl (Hailee Steinfeld). She just turned 14 and is a force in every scene. Can you imagine? I am pretty sure a 14-year-old me would be a giggly, blushing mess at the thought of being in the same town as Matt Damon, let alone the same movie. And of course I like Jeff Bridges, who officially crowns himself the king of slovenly, half-drunk anti-heroes with his dominating portrayal of Rooster Cogburn. I never saw the John Wayne version of True Grit, but I am not sure I need to now.

It seems like a lot of movies to sit through, but it's pretty easy to keep your energy up when you're on a 24-7 sugar high from a near constant intake of cookies. Maybe next year I'll try that whole closet cleaning/resolution writing thing. Maybe.

Minimal distribution

2010-12-21T17:30:00.000-05:00

I am fairly certain, and slightly afraid, that my mom is trying to kill me with cookies. She arranged the above platter on my second of 14 days in Florida. See those three little macaroons in the middle? Those are the only three my dad can eat, which means the rest were presumably for the two of us. She made a big point to stress that this was just a "minimal distribution," in case I missed the army of Tupperware containers packed with more cookies looming in the background. That was yesterday. Today she added something that tastes like s'mores to her cookie arsenal. Give me strength.

Holiday play list

2010-12-19T06:33:00.003-05:00

1. "Bang Bang Bang," Mark Ronson and The Business Intl. Q-tip. Hello.
2. "Public Service Announcement," Jay-Z Did anyone else see the Charlie Rose interview with Jay-Z? It was the most perfectly awkward/awesome PBS moment.
3. "What's My Name?" Rihanna feat. Drake I like to support Degrassi graduates whenever possible.
4. "Dear Mr. President," Fitz and the Tantrums Good tip, Katie!
5. "Power," Kanye West Sorry, Taylor.
6. "Dancing On My Own," Robyn Thank you, Sweden.
7. "Rill Rill," Sleigh Bells Seems like an obviously choice to have Sleigh Bells on your holiday play list.
8. "Satisfied," Cee Lo Green My mom has a thing about profanity in songs. So if I want to play Cee Lo around her during this holiday season, I'll go with "Satisfied" over his more famous anthem.
9. "Kids/Poker Face," Weezer Not quite as good as their cover of "...Baby One More Time," but I like the spirit.
10. "Creep," Scala and Kolacny Brothers The song that made me fall in love with The Social Network. Do they give out Oscars for trailers?

Menor-ah-rama

2010-12-02T15:22:00.000-05:00

1st Night with the Weinstocks

Otter madness

2010-12-01T08:28:00.002-05:00

You know how there is that rabid otter in Boca that everyone there is talking about? And you know how sometimes I fall asleep at 7:15 p.m. for about an hour, and then I can't sleep at midnight, so instead of going to bed I watch Jimmy Kimmel Live? Well, sometimes that's actually a good thing. The rabid otter of Boca is officially a national story. This is the most exciting thing to happen in Boca since Joe Pesci allegedly punched that kid in the Circuit City parking lot.

UPDATE: 12/2/10 Hey Mom, your long national nightmare may be over.

No place like home

2010-11-28T12:11:00.000-05:00

Mom's home cooking, time with family, laughing with old friends: it's no contest, Thanksgiving vacation wins every time. But when air fares dictated that we break from tradition and return to Boston on Saturday instead of with the masses on Sunday, I find myself waking up in my own apartment to find "U4EA" as the 9 a.m. episode of Beverly Hills 90210 on SoapNet. "You put a strange drug in my drink" vs. more discussion of the rabid otter of Boca Raton. It's a tough call.

Princess diary

2010-11-16T17:28:00.002-05:00

7:00 a.m. I can't believe Prince William's engagement is the lead story on The Today Show. Who cares? This isn't a big surprise. They've been dating for NINE YEARS.

7:16 a.m. Oh. My. God. The Today Show is STILL covering Prince William's engagement. I am sorry, but are we in America? Didn't we win that war? Last time I checked, Prince William was not the monarch in this country. Where is the news in this alleged morning news program?

10:30 a.m. What a shocker, boston.com slapped together a William and Kate photo gallery. Hmpf. You know, I forgot how much Prince William looks like McBride. He totally does. I better look around on the Internet to make sure. Yep, he does. Hmm.

11:50 a.m. I was just thinking Kate Middleton is really pretty. Let me peruse some of these photo galleries. Oh, I love those boots. She was born to be a princess. Did you hear they're going to live in Wales? Probably in a castle. A magical castle.

1:30 p.m. WHAT? He used Diana's ring? Gasp. It's beautiful. And what a nice tribute to his mum. Remember that image of William walking behind her casket? Ah, there it is. Sigh. And look at that Kate Middleton in her royal blue dress. Get it? ROYAL blue? She's so clever. Clever and lovely.

5:10 p.m. Ooooh, that cute little Prince Harry is "delighted" about the engagement. I wonder when he will get engaged? But more importantly, when are Wills and Kate going to set the date? What are they waiting for? I mean, I need time to plan. I think I'll buy a new hat for the wedding. Cheers!

Dear old dad

2010-11-15T18:06:00.000-05:00

I looked through my iPhoto library for a picture of my dad, so I could write a little tribute to him today, his 65th birthday. I searched for something a little silly, to convey that "I mock because I love" message. You know, something like this:

There are plenty more like this, of course. But much more common are interesting buildings, expansive landscapes, and quiet shots of all parts of the natural world. Like this and this:

So while it's easy and always fun to mock my dear old dad, it actually is much more appropriate to honor him as a talented photographer and subtle teacher, who probably is my greatest source of artistic inspiration. Happy birthday, Daddy-O, and thank you for so many gifts, not the least of which is instilling in me your love of photography and your passion for finding beauty all around us.

Do animals think?

2010-11-11T15:03:00.000-05:00

When we were undergraduates, Jodi took a class titled "Do Animals Think?" Don't you love college? She claimed it was a really hard class. I just remember her doing a big project about bees. So I do not know if animals think, but I can assure you that they talk. I just overheard two squirrels having a very animated conversation. I don't speak squirrel, so I have no idea what they were kibitzing about. I suspect the transcript of their exchange might look something like this:

Squirrel on the ground: "I have an acorn for you."
Squirrel in the tree: "Great. Bring it up here."
Squirrel on the ground: "You come get it. I am doing you a favor."
Squirrel in the tree: "But I am already in this tree. Thanks for nothing."

Or something like that. They both seemed kind of bothered. I wondered if they were a long-married couple. Or maybe they were sisters. Or maybe they were peeved that I was eavesdropping. Or maybe that's just how squirrels talk.

Circle of influence

2010-11-08T11:35:00.000-05:00

I went to get sensible boots. Concerned about getting through the winter, I looked for black or brown with a mid sized heel, nothing too crazy. My other thought was another pair of black flats, something with a pointy toe to wear with pants.

I came home with a pair of bright purple suede loafers. Jodi said they were plum colored, and that jewel tones are very in this season. She always makes it okay for me to buy anything, including a pair of purple shoes when I was looking for black boots. Which is why she's the best person to shop with, and also the worst. Somehow, she left DSW empty handed, though she did procure a pair of monkey ear muffs somewhere in our shopping travels. So, we're even.

Crapped out

2010-11-04T11:11:00.000-04:00

Want to know my personal equivalent of 6-6-6? A triple whammy? Rolling a snake eye? See below.

Seriously, THREE orange sweet tarts? I feel like I just ripped open a packet of kryptonite. I suppose I was just tempting fate, eating sweet tarts like it's my job for the past two days, and managing to avoid multiple oranges. No lottery tickets for me today. In fact, I feel so unlucky, I think I should spend the rest of the day hiding under my desk. You can find me there, if you would like to take this bit of misfortune off of my hands. Bleh.

Brainstorming

2010-10-26T16:00:00.002-04:00

Possible 2010 Halloween costumes:
Marcel the Shell
Liz Lemon
Chilean miner
Stink bug
iPad
Blair Waldorf
Smarty pants
Serial killer
Tony Romo
Christine O'Donnell
Sony walkman
Paul the Octopus (R.I.P.)
Sue Sylvester
Wind farm
Facebook profile
Zucchini

Not easy being green

2010-10-13T16:02:00.000-04:00

I rode the B line from Boylston St. to Boston College on Monday, by choice. There's absolutely no reason to ride the B line. Unless you have booked a first class ticket on the crazy train. Literally. I can't really explain myself; I can only assure you that I am not crazy, and it was the easiest way to get to El Pelon.

Maybe I would utilize the B line more if I could determine exactly when the train would arrive at my stop. It would still be the slow train to no where, but at least I could wait for it on my couch. There must be an app for that. Apparently, now there is. Rejoice! Oh, excuse me, it's only available for the Red, Blue and Orange lines. You there, waiting outside in the cold on Comm. Ave? Keep on waiting.

And while you wait, you better keep your guard up, because the youth are in revolt. They're pulling pranks and they're not taking responsibility for their actions. And they're bringing their antics to the trains: more specifically to the B line. Of course.

We returned from a trip

2010-10-11T18:12:00.005-04:00

There are two ways my sister is the perfect person with whom to hike Mt. Monadnock.

1. When we were about 300 feet from the summit, I looked up at the steep, rocky "trail," felt the cold wind whip through me, and thought about how we had witnessed a man fall and break his ankle at the start of our hike. Just for a brief moment, I wondered if right there, 300 feet from the summit, was good enough for me. My sister was there to say, "Come on, let's go."

2. After we reached the summit and had taken our obligatory pictures of the amazing view, I decided to take one more: a self portrait. Standing 20 feet behind me, my sister had the sneaky smarts to peek into the background with a mischievous look on her face. It was not the only time she made me laugh during the hike, but it's the one that I captured digitally, and the one that makes me laugh today, as I limp here and there. Did so much our muscles are aching, indeed.

Little cousin

2010-10-04T12:01:00.001-04:00

Remember how I have that one "little" cousin? She turns 21 today. I know. The same toddler who sang "Take Me Out to the Ballgame" with the perfect dramatic finish, the same little person whose world I could rock with the magic of Shrinky Dinks, the same 5-year-old who informed us that she liked a certain Broadway show because it had "good sets," the same young believer who suggested I get a ride from Santa when I got bumped from my Christmas Eve flight to Florida, the same 11-year-old who spoke so wisely at our aunt's funeral, the same 17-year-old who introduced me to Facebook and wondered if she should "poke" Michael Cera. She's completely legal (even though she's been in Europe for the last two months and likely surviving on a steady diet of Carlsberg). It's a milestone for her, and really for all of us. Happy birthday, little cousin.

Season in the sun

2010-10-03T21:58:00.000-04:00

So long, baseball season. Fondest memories of 2010? Truthfully, they are few and far between. Mostly, I just have an endless parade of injuries and too many gut-wrenching blown saves that all add up to a big handful of heartbreak. Not exactly the stuff that keeps you warm all winter. There are a few small sparkles of joy: Nomar Garciaparra Day, Nava Magic, the Laser Show. Even those sort of fall flat. But I have one little story that is worthy of remembering.

On Aug. 3, Katie and I were driving back from a grand summer weekend in the Hamptons. All weekend long, I had been closely monitoring the trade deadline news, waiting to hear if the Sox had made any moves. More than anything, I dreaded what I feared to be the inevitable trade or release of Mike Lowell. He was on his way back from injury, and there seemed to be no role for him with the Sox. That move never came, and Mike waited in a strange baseball limbo: he was finished with his rehab stint, but he had yet to be activated. He was literally neither here nor there. Then, suddenly Youkilis was on the DL, and Mike was not only back on the team, but starting at first base. It's funny how baseball works.

Somewhere in Connecticut, Katie and I picked up the game on the radio, and the familiar folksiness of Joe Castiglione guided us home. We listened intently as Mike came to bat for the first time, and the loyal Fenway crowd greeted him with a boisterous standing ovation. How perfect, I thought. Only at Fenway does a player get a standing ovation for coming off the DL. Before they could sit down, Mike promptly drove the first pitch he saw over the Green Monster. The fans went beyond crazy. Joe Castiglione was completely giddy. And I felt like I could have driven my Jetta to the moon. That moment, my favorite of the season, was everything I love about baseball. Once in a while, baseball presents a reality that actually exceeds your greatest expectations. Would I trade that moment for a division title? Um, yeah. In a heartbeat. But I can't, so I'll keep it. See you at spring training.

Bad news news

2010-09-30T15:45:00.002-04:00

It's not a secret that professional journalism is dying. (Dead?) Is The Boston Globe's plan to split its digital news brands into two distinct websites, one free and one subscription, the final nail in the coffin or the move that saves the industry?

Based on what I read in this article/press release, the free boston.com will be home to restaurant reviews, the exasperating photo galleries that are the bane of my sister's existence, their infamously not urgent breaking news, and a boatload of advertising. In other words, crap-dot-com. The subscription BostonGlobe.com will be have all the content from the paper and any analysis or investigative reports written by actual journalists. So bye-bye, Bob Ryan.

I've always had a very weird relationship with boston.com: I recognize all its evil plots to manipulate its visitor analytics and am disgusted by the low bar it sets for its home page content. Yet, I visit it incessantly and obsessively, for reasons I can't really explain. The announcement that it's only going to get worse is disheartening. No price has been announced, but will I really pay for something that's been free my entire adult life? Seems likes they are trying to close the barn door after the horse has bolted.* Good luck with that.

* I can't believe I just used that expression. Apparently, I am Pa Ingalls today.

Mixed nuts

2010-09-29T16:25:00.001-04:00

Allow me to share some random musings:

I am fully in favor of living in the moment. I strive to not get ahead of myself or dwell in the past. Except when the past feels so good. Like this:

All I have to say about the following clip is "Just be an American!"

!!!!!!! [BESTIE x BESTIE 1] !!!!!!! from Dean Fleischer-Camp on Vimeo.

Lone Star was canceled after two episodes. Thanks for nothing. Yet Outsourced soldiers on.

I saw Return of the Jedi in a theater when it was released in 1983. Then I saw the re-release of A New Hope in 1997. Of course I saw parts I-III when they came out '99, 2002, and 2005. Now George Lucas wants me to go back into the theater and see all six movies again, in 3-D. Hello, tipping point.

Do you like The Sound of Music? Of course you do. Everyone does. So you'll probably love this. I did. Thank you, ArtsEmerson (and Jeff).

What's grosser than gross?

2010-09-22T23:14:00.002-04:00

Boston, you're officially grossing me out this week. I still can't stop thinking about that mattress and bed bugs. And at tonight's Red Sox game, the young woman in front of us decided to leave after the top of the eighth. About 90 seconds later, the dude two seats down leaned over and picked up her half empty beer from the ground. And drank it. "I just can't let it go to waste," he said matter-of-factly, as JGBL and I starred in horror. Um, actually, you can. Because while she seemed like a nice healthy girl, you really don't know what's up with that. She might be a carrier of a deadly virus. She might be getting a cold. She might have let her gross date use that cup as a spittoon. She might have bed bugs.

I don't know your name, stupid beer drinking Sox fan, but you are on notice.

Still searching for Lost

2010-09-22T00:54:00.001-04:00

I entered the new fall television season with one goal: find a replacement for Lost. No easy task, but considering there seem to be about 500 new shows looking for love, I felt I could find at least one to which I could cozy up. I did extensive research: I skimmed Entertainment Weekly, and then e-mailed Joe and asked him to tell me what to watch. The early returns are in:

Boardwalk Empire (HBO): I am still slightly traumatized by season 7 of Entourage, so much so that I wasn't sure I could trust HBO and Mark Wahlberg for a new series. If Turtle's quest to bring Mexican tequila to LA is a story that needs to be told over five episodes, your show has troubles. Fortunately, HBO returned to its A game with the pilot of Boardwalk Empire. It has lots of things that make for good television: gangsters, historical fiction, life and death consequences, conflicted heroes, scary villains. It was like watching a very good movie. I'm in.

Lone Star (Fox): Joe described Lone Star as the only no brainer of the year, so I was very excited for its premiere. It's about man who is running a long con; so long that he maintains two completely different lives (and two wives). He also has major daddy issues and is very cute. So cute that I looked the actor up on IMDB and was horrified to discover he was born in 1985. Ouch. It's set in Texas and there's a family oil business in the mix, so there's a little Dallas flavor, but without the camp. I'm in, because I just have to know how he's going to keep up with his two lives, but concerned: is anyone else watching this? If Fox pulls the plug, I am going to feel cheated.

Hawaii 5-0 (CBS): Lost replacement? Let's start with a show that is filmed in Hawaii and stars Daniel Dae Kim, a.k.a Jin on Lost. It's practically begging to be the Lost replacement. Major bonus points for the theme song, which is perhaps the best ever. Still, I was hesitant. Yes, it has Jin, but it also has Scott Caan (see Entourage, season 7) and the guy who only looks familiar because he was in that movie with J-Lo where she gets pregnant just before meeting the perfect guy, or something stupid like that. But, it looked sort of fun, and did I mention the theme song? Joe confirmed my suspicions with "it's so simple, but in a good way, like an 90s Bruckheimer movie you would have seen with Bill and McBride on a rainy day." Sign. Me. Up. The pilot was exactly that, though I do feel like it's the kind of show I could miss every now and then and still know what's going on. Which is of course the very opposite of Lost, a show I never missed and also never really understood. So the search continues.

Buggin' out

2010-09-20T11:58:00.002-04:00

You know bed bugs are a problem when they warrant a report on CBS Sunday Morning. They are apparently the scourge of New York City (just ask my cousins), and are wreaking havoc from coast to coast. Gross! I was going to post an image, but all the choices made me a little queasy. Of course there's no real flash in this news: bed bugs always have been part of the culture in Boston, mostly because a certain segment of the population has no qualms about shopping for "new" furniture on the sidewalk. I have long admired the "one man's trash, another man's treasure" system that seems to hum along smoothly without official regulation. But now that the dreaded beg bugs are getting so much media attention, I am officially skeeved out. All that tacky upholstery...all those used beds. When I pulled out of my driveway and discovered a twin mattress lying innocently by the side of the road, I gasped in horror. It looks clean enough, but I get itchy just thinking about the colony of critters that lives within it. It's been two days, and this mattress clearly has no takers. Call it the CBS Sunday Morning effect. Now, can someone just haul the damn thing away?

Rock Band Rosh Hashanah

2010-09-10T10:50:00.000-04:00

L'Shanah Tovah!

9/02/10

2010-09-02T12:45:00.004-04:00

Summer of 1996: no job, no direction, and a body weakened by a bout with mono. Call it tough times, call it a shame spiral, call it dark days: it was not my finest hour. In a vicious cycle of resume submissions, disappointing interviews and self doubt, I found comfort in a little TV show call Beverly Hills 90210. I watched reruns twice a day; it was often the reason I got out of bed at all. And then on Wednesdays I was treated to a bonus new episode in prime time, which I watched with my roommates and felt somewhat normal.

At that point, the show was in its sixth year and already starting to decline: Kelly was with that loser Mark Reese and Valerie had an affair with a married man and faked a pregnancy. Eh. It only got worse after that: Noah Hunter? Matt Durning? I cringe. But I stuck with it to the glorious end (Donna and David's wedding), because even in the tough times, it stuck with me. So on this 90210 holiday, grow out your sideburns, call up your bro, crank up your David Silver demo tape and head on down to the Peach Pit. I am sure Nat has some pie waiting for all of us.

In name only

2010-09-01T11:00:00.004-04:00

I have a thing for hurricanes. That's what happens when you spend your formative years in a state so often in the direct path of destruction. I can chart latitude and longitude with the best of them. And don't mess with my family when it comes to stocking bottled water.

By the same accord, I am into hurricane names. I read the full list of names when they are released at the start of each season. I like the way bored meteorologists and newscasters use the names in clever headlines, often giving the storms human traits. I can't help but be amused when alleged fierce storms are saddled with prissy names. South Florida Braces for Frances? Not so much. My parents once lost power for 13 days thanks to storm named Wilma. Wilma? Oh please.

Following that same (il)logic, Earl sort of scares me. It's a tough guy name. It's menacing. Earl's mom didn't always know where he was after school. Earl stayed back a couple of years in high school and was a 19-year-old sophomore. Earl had a wallet chain and listened to a lot of Metallica.

Time to stock up on water and batteries. And maybe lock your doors. Earl is coming to New England.

Write a caption for this cartoon

2010-08-31T09:03:00.000-04:00

My mom is a longtime subscriber to The New Yorker. So is my sister. Even my Uncle Fred has a New Yorker subscription.

I do not. I am comfortable admitting that a New Yorker subscription doesn't fit my lifestyle. Quite simply, I'd rather read books. I am usually more than happy when one of the above family members reads a story, thinks of me, and passes on an issue. In fact, I even feel good that in a very small way I have a slightly tidier carbon footprint by occasionally rereading their copies rather than needing my own.

There are times, I can admit, that my lack of subscription inspires a slight feeling of inferiority. As if I am somehow less than because I didn't read the the 7,000-word article on the Human Genome Project. I have felt excluded from their smarty pants club. Maybe I'd like to actually be the person who subscribes to The New Yorker, rather than just the kind of person who subscribes to The New Yorker.

All of this is to explain the events of Sunday, when I happened to be reading (a hand-me-down copy) of The New Yorker on the beach in Ipswich, and Keith innocently asked, "Are you reading some smutty magazine?" So delighted that I wasn't reading the presumed US Weekly or People, so overcome with a pent-up inferiority complex about my lack of a subscription, so filled with indignation from his assumption, I literally screamed out,

"NOOOO! I AM READING THE NEW YORKER!"

So there.

For whom the bell tolls

2010-08-30T10:37:00.004-04:00

I didn't mean to do it, but I think I ended summer yesterday. Sorry, everyone. Yes, it's 92 degrees; yes it's a week before Labor Day; yes, I am still rocking white pants. But yesterday, I spent a glorious day at the beach. I went in the water, even though it was cold, and I didn't bother to wash the sand off my feet before I got in the car. I probably stayed in the sun longer than I should have. When I stopped at Woodman's on the way home, I splurged for the lobster roll and knew the ice cream would not be optional. All as if to say, "This is the last gasp of summer, so it's on like Donkey Kong."

But the most telling indication of summer's end? My quiet, unceremonious release of the Red Sox. (Or is it release "from" the Red Sox?) When the Rays tied that game last night (and maybe even a little earlier if I am being super duper honest with myself and the Internet), I started to shut it down. No stomach aches. No lost sleep. No new math. I'll still watch games. I'll still believe. I'll still keep a "you never know" in my back pocket. But I'm a realist. I think it's about time to call it a summer.

Unexpected situation

2010-08-27T11:45:00.000-04:00

What's the proper reaction when you use the women's bathroom at an all-female institution and the seat is up?

Sharing some funny

2010-08-18T12:12:00.000-04:00

MARCEL THE SHELL WITH SHOES ON from Dean Fleischer-Camp on Vimeo.

Maybe I am a little biased, because hells yeah I went to camp with Jenny Slate. And I think everyone from my camp is the the absolute best (especially the ones on the blue team). I make allowances for some gray team members, like my sister and my best friend, and now for Jenny, as she's apparently grown up to be a comic genius. Good Lord.

Escape to zucchini mountain

2010-08-17T21:10:00.001-04:00

Trips to the Berkshires always seem to have a magical quality. Perhaps it's the clear, starry nights and sweet aroma of pine trees. Or the quirky locals who decide to celebrate zucchini for no apparent reason. Or the charms and talents of John Williams. Or the world-class picnics that clutter the lawn at Tanglewood. Or the lack of good cell service that hearkens a bygone era and slight sense of isolation. Most likely, it is the laughter and silliness of an annual road trip and much anticipated visit with good friends. But I am not completely ruling out the supernatural powers of the zucchini ice cream.

West Stockbridge Zucchini Festival

18-pound zucchini named The Obscenity

Heated seats on the Tanglewood lawn

Quiet shed after Film Night

Boston runs on Dustin

2010-08-17T11:26:00.007-04:00

When Dustin Pedroia made his original laser show comments, my sister noted my utter delight and suggested I keep track of our favorite second baseman's more quotable moments. Good idea: that's why I keep her around. In honor of el caballito's long awaited return to the active roster and his 27th birthday (I love baseball karma), here are a few of his gems from the last three-plus months (from The Boston Globe and Boston Herald).

A television report about the [bomb] threat caught the attention of several Red Sox players as they prepared for the 7:10 p.m. game. But there was no concern, only a few jokes. "Bomb squad?" second baseman Dustin Pedroia said. "They're early."

***

Suffice it to say, the strike zone was expanded all game. Replays and Pitchf/x showed the pitch to Ortiz was well was outside.We'll leave the final word to Dustin Pedroia:
"[The umpires] must have had a flight. I'm actually going to check on that," he said. "If they had a flight, we’re going to make sure it was delayed. Because I can do that. I have that kind of pull.”

***

Pedroia said he was unsure of the ground rules (the ball was ruled out of play, and he later singled), but he also stayed frozen at home plate. “How about that?” he said. “Dude, it scared me because I didn’t run. I’m like, ‘Oh my god, Tito’s (Terry Francona) going to bench me for seven months — and laugh about it.’ But that was a nice break.” Asked why he didn’t know the rules, Pedroia cracked, “I try not to listen to Tito or (bench coach) DeMarlo (Hale) or any of our coaches. I don’t want to get dumber.”

***

We know we’re good,” Dustin Pedroia said. “We just have to sustain it over 162 games. We started out real slow and everyone kind of panicked. But we have confidence we’re going to win a lot of games, and hopefully the way we’ve been playing continues for a long time.”

Did Pedroia panic?

“I don’t panic,” he said. “I just drink more Red Bulls and kind of hang out.”

***

“Little bit. I mean, my knee hurts,’’ Pedroia said. “It’ll be fine. I don’t weigh that much, so I don’t have to carry around a lot of weight. I’ll find a way to play through it. I always do. . . . It’ll get better. I’ll heal while I play. I’ve got to get out there and help us win. That’s my job.’’

***

Dustin Pedroia is not happy that David Ortiz is getting all this flak just one month into the season. Pedroia knows all too well about getting off to slow starts, as he struggled in April of his eventual Rookie of the Year campaign. After the slow start, Pedroia caught fire, and according to him, there was a "laser show." Pedroia noted, "I'm going to vote on NESN.com, 'Papi is fine,' thanks for playing."

S.O.S.

2010-08-05T16:36:00.002-04:00

In the bad timing department, I pull into my parking space just as the heavens open up. Make a run for it? Get completely drenched? Risk electrocution? Or realize I have Internet and food (thanks to a pre-storm TJ's run) and decide that there's no good reason to open the car door. If you need me, I'll be in my driveway.

- Posted from my iPhone

It's a line that is always running

2010-08-04T18:25:00.000-04:00

The Hamptons can be about excess, and not always in a bad way. Excess of cousins, excess of corn on the cob, excess of rocket launching, excess of laughter. But the Hamptons also can be about smaller moments, too. The triumph of two sisters over Brick Kiln Rd. An inter-generational tennis match. A walk with your uncle. I embrace the excess. But I treasure the little gems.

News story of the summer

2010-07-29T21:20:00.001-04:00

Guess what? Hold the phone. Stop the presses. Shut the front door. Wait a minute. Get out of town. Now hear this:

7-11 has root beer slurpees. Barq's root beer slurpees, to be exact.

The end.

Chicago senses

2010-07-19T15:17:00.000-04:00

Sight: I took 283 pictures in Chicago. I took pictures of Lake Michigan, Wrigley Field, an active movie shoot, a T-Rex named Sue, a big reflective bean, and buildings. Lots and lots of buildings. Most of my favorites were along the Chicago Architectural Foundation's river cruise.

Hearing: My ears were greeted by friendly people offering directions, being helpful or just saying hello. It's not a myth: people in Chicago are really nice. But the sweetest sound I heard all weekend came from 41,000+ happy Cubs fans singing "Go Cubs Go" following the hometown team's defeat of the Phillies. It. Was. Awesome. Of course "Dirty Water" is perfect and I wouldn't have it any other way, but I was impressed.

Touch: Lordy, Chicago was hot. Everything felt like it was about to catch on fire. Including me.
Smell: My nose was busy in Chicago, and not always in a good way. Diesel fuel of buses, sizzling asphalt, the mingling of various human odors on a overcrowded subway ride: No thanks. Chocolaty goodness in both the Hershey and Ghirardelli chocolate stores? More please.
Taste: Did I mention it was hot in Chicago? The heat impacted my appetite. I sort of just wanted to drink Diet Coke all weekend. I'll definitely need to make a return trip that has a culinary focus. But don't worry, we didn't starve: Yummy seafood at Greek Islands, pancakes, even a DQ Blizzard. And Katie sampled a Wrigley Field hot dog, with its curiously green relish. Hey, Chicago, what do you say?

Taste test

2010-07-13T12:15:00.002-04:00

My first question upon seeing a picture of Dunkin Donuts' Wally the Green Monster Coolatta: "What flavor is that?" Because I am very flavor sensitive. Especially when it comes to fruity flavors. I live under the general assumption that anything that looks fruity is probably trying to kill me. I'll make exceptions for candy (see Mike and Ikes, Gummy Bears, Sweet Tarts), but even there I have my limits. Yes, you, orange Sweet Tarts. My greatest fruit adversaries are drinks. I've never really found a fruity drink that I could stomach. Bug juice? Kool Aid? You might as well offer me a cup of poison. But I was curious, maybe even a little hopeful. My first stop on my quest for knowledge: ask my sister. When she met my query with an "I don't know, and I don't want to know," I turned to my second best source for coolatta clues: Google. According to The Boston Herald, "The Wally the Green Monster Coolatta combines blue raspberry and Tropicana orange flavors." Mystery solved. I will now go vomit in my purse.

Nice curtain call

2010-07-12T23:13:00.000-04:00

I don't like giving Nike free air time, but if you don't love this, you're a communist.

Annotated list

2010-07-06T13:22:00.000-04:00

With the "feels like" temperature expected to exceed 100 degrees today, the Massachusetts Emergency Management Agency has released the following suggestions on how to keep cool:
1. Slow down, avoid strenuous activity. Do not try to do too much on a hot day. Can you define too much? Is typing too much? Checking voice mail? Thinking? Breathing? I had big plans for today.
2. Wear lightweight, loose-fitting, light-colored clothing. Light colors will reflect heat and sunlight and help maintain normal body temperature. Protect your face with a wide-brimmed hat. So basically, dress like Queen Elizabeth.

3. Drink plenty of water regularly and often, even if you do not feel thirsty. Attempt to stay hydrated. We said "attempt" to stay hydrated. But good luck actually staying hydrated.
4. Limit intake of alcoholic beverages. They can actually dehydrate your body. This message does not reflect the opinions of the Miller Brewing Company or any of its employees.
5. Eat well-balanced, light, regular meals. Avoid high protein foods that increase metabolic heat. One word: popsicles. I am thinking breakfast, lunch and dinner.
6. Stay indoors as much as possible. What a great excuse to finally host that Dress as Your Favorite Celebrity Shut-In Party! If I only I could grow my fingernails out in time to complete my Howard Hughes costume.
7. If you do not have air conditioning, stay on your lowest floor, out of the sun. Electric fans do not cool the air, but they do help evaporate perspiration, which cools your body. Just lie down on your floor, don't move, and pray not to die.
8. Go to a place where you can get relief from the heat, such as air-conditioned schools, libraries, theaters and other community facilities that may offer refuge during the warmest times of the day. Matinee of The Karate Kid, anyone?
9. Check with your community for information about local "cooling centers." Google "cooling centers brighton, ma" and you get a listing for a refrigeration, heating, and cooling service company in Woburn. I'm screwed.

All things considered

2010-07-05T18:33:00.000-04:00

All things considered from liza cohen on Vimeo.

Like so many holidays (yes, New Year's Eve, I am talking to you), the Fourth of July can be somewhat of an expectations game. We think we should be filled to the brim with all-out summer merriment, and are often disappointed when we inevitably fall short. So I feel like I hit the jackpot this year, perhaps because I kept my expectations low, and found myself enjoying a surprisingly sweet Toy Story 3, eating a yummy lobster roll in hidden gem Marblehead, and hanging out with the lil' sis and JDiggity. Thanks to our trusty covered seats, I didn't melt at the Sox game, and I didn't melt down, either, despite the loss to Baltimore. I do miss the Laser Show, but I rallied -- thanks to good food, great company, and a spectacular view -- for the real show on the Charles. A two ice cream day never hurts either. Nor does a nationwide celebration of freedom. Happy birthday, America.

If they don't win, it's a shame

2010-07-01T11:56:00.002-04:00

If you read this blog, you know the drill. I go to Florida, attend a Marlins game, take some pictures, and mock the fans and the team for the poor attendance, lame in-game entertainment, and general inferiority to Fenway Park and the Red Sox. But my most recent sojourn to Sun Life Stadium yielded some very different, and surprisingly positive observations.

This is where we parked. That's not a weird camera angle or Photoshop magic. We were basically three rows from the gate. It was like going to mall in the middle of the week, and it was 10 dollars. Try that at Fenway. I dare you.

This is what the stands looked like as the managers brought out the line-up cards. Okay, this looks bad. But honestly, I am surprised there were this many people. It was brutally hot. Look at those orange seats. It's like sitting on the sun! Our seats were covered, completely in the shade, and I still managed to get a sun burn. Seriously. Ask my dad. Who in their right mind would attend a day game in this hell mouth?

So I am going to stop mocking Marlins fans, for now. They may have great parking, but I am not sure that offsets the health risks associated with attending a game. You seriously might catch on fire in your seat. And, you have to bring your own lemon in a zip lock bag. Tough times.

I read it for the articles

2010-06-26T10:46:00.001-04:00

Heading to the airport, I bump into my mail carrier as she distributes my building's deliveries. I decide to wait and pick up my new Entertainment Weekly. It always arrives on Friday and will be the perfect plane ride periodical. I hover and fidget, and she kindly asks my apartment number.

"Number 36? I just want to grab a magazine," I explain. She helpfully sorts through her pile. "There it is," I point, looking over her shoulder and eyeing the familiar EW masthead.

"Oh, I see why you wanted this," she says with a "caught you" smile, as we both look down at the beefcake cover photo of Taylor Lautner and Robert Pattinson. Wait a minute...

No time to clarify. No time to explain my anti-Twilight views. "Uh, well, thanks so much," I hastily call, as I run off to Logan to the sounds of my mail carrier's knowing laughter.

Manny being....

2010-06-18T10:00:00.001-04:00

Amazing. Infuriating. Astounding. Frustrating. Talented. Foolish. Incredible. Irritating. Remarkable. Unbelievable. Exasperating. Brilliant. Superb. Splendid. Irksome. Endearing. Captivating. Triumphant.

Adored. Thanks for this, #24. Welcome back.

First choice: D. Wade. Second choice: Jesus.

2010-06-15T15:55:00.005-04:00

Look, I don't really have a horse in this race. My favorite player is watching The Finals from the second row. But please, the Lakers? Kobe Bryant? As if.

He got game. And I got shot gun on the Celtics bandwagon.