So I finally broke down over the weekend and cleaned out my closet.
This does not sound like the start of a good story, but trust me, it gets better. (For ethical reasons, I feel obliged to inform you that it does not, in fact, get better.)
See, I'd been putting this off for roughly 8 months. Any time something broke (like a dining room chair, a computer monitor, or a plastic bobblehead dog) rather than repair it or throw it away, I would just store it in the closet for later. Then when I got my new king-size bed, I decided to retain the old full sized mattress and box spring for tactical purposes (also I am lazy and didn't want to have to carry it farther than 5 feet anywhere) so it went in there as well. AND THEN when I got my new TV, I didn't want to carry the giant box that it came in out to the dumpster (which would almost literally be like carrying a sign that says "Please Rob Me" around my not-so-nice neighborhood), so into the closet it went.
Considering the pre-existing boxes of clothes, bedding, Christmas trees, unopened blenders, books that are either ugly or don't fit into my shelves, garbage bags full of stuffed animal beavers that I have stashed away in the hopes that people forget about that period of my life, etc. that already littered the place, we sort of hit a critical mass in there about 4 months ago. And yet I did nothing.
"But Jason," you say. "A closet is for keeping clothes. How do you live life with no access to your wardrobe?"
To that, I say "Bah!"
I can adapt to anything. While yes, technically there was roughly 10 feet of hanging space in the closet that I could not access, I could still reach the 18 inches directly in front of the closet door. Which is just enough space to cram every dress shirt and pair of slacks I own, as long as I pushed really hard. And while I could no longer reach the shelves where my folded clothes should go, I was able to clear off two tiny spaces on the wire rack that stood directly beside the closet door, on which I was able to precariously stack every other piece of laundry I owned. So not only did I work it out, I never technically had to enter the closet after that point, to defend against the off chance that it might consume me entirely.
This setup lasted until this weekend when I had to retrieve a blanket for a house guest and nearly lost my life when I got stuck between the box spring, my space heater, and a lamp, and almost had to call the fire department to come in to rescue me with the jaws of life.
Thus, on Sunday I steeled myself and started yanking things out. You know at the circus, when the clowns come out of the tiny car? Imagine instead that the tiny car is actually a giant SUV, and yet still a proportionate number of clowns come out of it. Like, instead of 10 clowns out of a VW, imagine a million clowns coming out of a Hummer. (Lets all stop and wonder in horror at the idea of a million clowns. Move on when you stop shuddering.)
This imagination adventure was necessary because my closet is only moderately sized, and yet I managed to pull enough stuff out of there to fill my entire bedroom, my bathroom, and part of the hallway. It defied the laws of space, time, and physics. I found things in there I'm pretty sure I hadn't seen since I left the metaphorical closet back in 2001 - up to and including my high school graduation cap, a broken saxophone, a computer from 1994, and what I can only assume was once a mattress pad, before the ravages of time turned it into a synthetic pile of foamy dust.
Once suitably cleared out, I set about empirically deciding which items could effectively be thrown out without one day possibly missing them. Which by my insane qualifications meant tossing 2 things: the (assumed) mattress pad lump and the box that the giant TV came in. Because you never do know when you're going to need a desktop computer from 1994, or a stack of outdated video cards from 1999-2003.
I realize that I may have some packratting issues.
But in any case, I attempt then to carry said giant TV box from my bedroom to the dumpster across the apartment complex. You would think this would not be a difficult thing, but only if you haven't met me. The box is open on either end, but is both too wide to carry lengthwise and too long to stand on its end and still be carryable. Since I am by myself, I compromise and just half-carry it by holding one of the short ends and prop the rest against my body at an angle upwards. Sort of like I'm about to do a pole vault, only instead of a pole I've got a long and wide empty cardboard box. Since I'm fighting both gravity and my own weakness, I have to book it pretty quickly across the parking lot, lest the whole thing crash down to earth and I end up in a sobbing heap on the (really, really hot) asphalt.
I still maintain that this plan was solid, and totally would have worked, had it not been windy that afternoon. But alas. Halfway across the parking lot, a huge gust of wind picks up and hits the box broadside. I am bodily picked up by the force of it and spun 90 degrees, so that instead of half running towards a dumpster, I am now half running directly at several parked cars.
I attempt to course correct for this by shifting my left arm and part of my body to the backside of the box and pushing with all my might. I am half successful in this attempt, insofar as I regain my original heading without killing myself or falling over my own feet. This success lasts approximately 2 seconds before the second gust of wind hits. This time I am already braced against the backside of the box, so you'd think that would be enough to compensate.
But I did not factor in the part where I am weaker than the plot of Transformers 2. The wind overpowers my counteractive push to the point where I am literally forced backwards 5 feet and am bodily slammed into the back of a parked car. Who's alarm of course immediately starts going off, seemingly loud enough to cause permanent ear damage and alerting every single person within a 1 mile radius to come out and witness my humiliation.
This is how I meet my new neighbors now, apparently. Wedged up against their car, beaten into submission by a cardboard box that weighs approximately 10 pounds. And of course by the time they come around, there is no wind at all to speak of, so the neighbor's wife is able to easily pick up the box without aid.
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So what lesson did we learn?
Never throw anything out.
OR
Just stop going out in public at all.
Both are good.
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Light as a Feather, Stiff as a Board
Monday, June 29, 2009
Music Review Monday - Spektor, Jonas, et al
Been in a music buying frenzy lately, and thought I'd do a public service announcement on what to buy and what to ignore. Because I definitely know what I'm talking about when it comes to music. (Please note: I have no idea what I'm talking about, but I do like to type a lot.)
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Far, Regina Spektor - I cannot give an unbiased review of this album. It includes the songs "One More Time With Feeling" (my old favorite Regina song) and "Dance Anthem of the 80's" (the song that I heard live back in '06 which started my terrifying fan obsession), so I have no objectivity.
That said, even attempting to pretend impartiality, I think it's a very, very good album. It opens brilliantly with the catchy songs "The Calculation" and "Eet" (which I think are the two standout songs on the record). It get you hooked before you know it and the album slides on with a nice pace, alternating the slower, deeper songs with the more upbeat ones, making a nice layering effect to the thematic idea of the album. The only thing I find out of place is "The Wallet," which is a great song and one of my favorite things she sings live, but it feels jarringly trifling at the end of such a strong album.
As with Begin to Hope, I think the same unfair criticism will be leveled at Far - it's more commercially viable (read: mainstream), more produced, resulting in less original flavor Regina. I agree with the viability and the production, but if anything, this album has more personality Begin to Hope and a couple of the songs rival what we saw on Soviet Kitch. Undoubtedly there are more mainstream things here: "Laughing With" is generic enough for radio play, I sincerely believe "Eet" will end up as the "Better" of this album, and "The Calculation" and "Dance Anthem" both scream commercial to me.
But right at the same time you've got "Folding Chair," which is the quintessential Regina quirk song (there are dolphin noises involved), and "Blue Lips", which is insanely lyrically dense. Basically, I can never figure out what people are on about, but I assume it's cool hate on the popular and say you knew them when, and it was so much better, and lalala. Whatever, it's good stuff.
(Note: As much as I prefer buying music from Amazon over iTunes, get it off iTunes if possible, since the bonus tracks are amazing. While it's short, "Riot Gear" is my favorite song on the whole album.)
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Lines, Vines, and Trying Times, The Jonas Brothers - I don't even know what to say to this album. It's so varied - the theme is obviously the Trying Times part of the title - but musically it's all over the map; you've got country, rock, pop, even a little rap. Despite many of the songs not being my cup of musical tea ("What Did I Do To Your Heart" sounds like a 90's Shania Twain reject, and "Don't Charge Me For The Crime" is gangsta-rap-ultra-lite) I think it's a good album, but it's nothing that you need to go out of your way to hear.
I was shocked how much I liked their last album - it was slickly produced and unbelievably catchy without being too Disney Teen Bop, or only a little bit so (plus some of the songs were just plain good). This album continues that theme in some ways for the better - this is a more mature sounding and better produced album in almost every regard, and it actually has some real-world playable music on it (as long as you never reveal that to anyone that it is the Jonas Brothers who are singing).
Some of it is a little juvenile, though: after listening to "Fly With Me", I sincerely wonder if they've forgotten that Peter Pan sort of doesn't have a happy ending (which seemingly negates the message of the song). And while I enjoy a good Taylor Swift smackdown as much as the next person, I really could have done without the eternally lame "Much Better" ("I'm done with superstars/and all the tears on her guitar, I'm not bitter") Uh, yeah, good luck with that.
On the whole, it's around 6.5 out of 10. Maybe more, depending on how long this "Paranoid" single remains lodged in my brain (seriously, it's really good).
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Ray Guns Are Not Just The Future, The Bird and The Bee - Such a nice album. I've become sort of an electro-pop glutton lately (Bitter:Sweet, Animal Collective, Lykke Li, Imogen Heap...) so I like to think that I'm starting to be able to tell the difference between something that's just catchy and something that's genuinely good, as electronica goes. This is a really great mixture of the two - standout catchy tunes like "My Love" and "Polite Dance Party," and then some songs that some measure of real interest hiding in them like "Meteor" and "Love Letter to Japan."
Not world-breaking, but a delight nonetheless.
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Beautiful Lie, Ed Harcourt - Get your music snob on. UK release from 2006 that got a US distribution in 2008 to little recognition. This album and Matt Alber's Hide Nothing are my go-to joys for obscure but amazing male singer/songwriters this year. To steal a line, this album is hauntingly beautiful. Goes a little too far on a couple of tracks, particularly "You Only Call Me When You're Drunk" which starts brilliant but then keeps spiraling upwards to a messy and terrible crash, but mostly it's a stunning achievement and kind of makes my heart hurt at times.
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Transmitter Failure, Jenny Owen Youngs -Another one of those biased reviews. Her last album, Batten the Hatches, is my favorite thing that came out of 2007 and I have an irrational love for the way she writes her songs. There's a cynical but reasoned edge to almost song on that album that really speaks to me.
The new album is a little more driving and a little happier, but the edge is still definitely in place. Her uptempo stuff is just brilliant, with "Last Person" and "Clean Break" as my standout favorites. I'm less in love with a couple of the fragile songs ("Here is a Heart" is a little too cloying and "Nighty Night," while catchy, is off putting to me), but that's just because I compare them to things like "Woodcut" or "Voice on Tape" from the last album and see missed potential. Make no mistake, it's a wonderful album, maybe my favorite of the whole year so far.
Friday, June 26, 2009
Transformers - Robots in Disg-THE WORST THING IN THE WORLD
My review of Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen, which was so bad that my hate-review spilled over the character limit on the sidebar.
Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen - I told myself as I was walking out of the theater that I wouldn't write up this review for at least a couple of days. "The pain will be too fresh in your mind, and you will say things that you regret."
But you know what? Screw it - This was the worst movie I have ever paid money to go see. And I went to both the remake of Prom Night last year, and I saw The Fog on its opening weekend. Terrible in every way imaginable, and then terrible again in ways that you couldn't even guess. Boring, long, insulting, misogynistic, borderline racist, loud, overly long, annoying, poorly acted, unforgivably dumb, confusing, way too long, illogical, ugly, vaguely nauseating, and (oh did I mention) TOO DAMN LONG. One of my friends complained that when he went to see it, someone pulled the fire alarm at the 2 hour mark and they had to evacuate the theater and he missed the end. Rather than complain, I would have gladly given whoever pulled the fire alarm a hug and maybe a kiss on the mouth. Another friend said she would have had more fun sleeping than watching the movie - I said I would have had more fun hitting myself on the hand with a large, sharp rock for TWO AND ONE HALF HOURS.
The plot is nonsensical to the point that you wonder why they even decided they needed a script at all - just give in to inertia and just go from set-action-piece to set-action-piece without any explanation if your rationalizations are going to be that lame. (Which they did at one point, I might mention. They literally had the cast gather in a circle in the middle of a field outside of the Smithsonian and then magically teleported themselves to a desert in Egypt.)
And then even the action sequences are so poorly shot (or rendered in most cases) that you don't even know what's going on. There are two formulas available:
#1:
Your only hope of working out any of the action is to look for red bits of colored metal (meaning Optimus Prime) or yellow bits (meaning it's the comedy relief robot). Everyone else is indistinguishable from a stainless steel appliance mangled by a garbage disposal.
#2:
Those are your options. Choose wisely. (Hint: The only way to win is not to play.)
OR
(Note: Neither of these things will have any effect on the robot, but explosions = cool, apparently)
I will credit the movie for making me laugh on three separate occasions (Rainn Wilson, I absolve you for being in this movie) but that doesn't make up for the damage done to my soul. We were trapped in that theater for 150 minutes of my life. Just a terrible, terrible, horrible, unconscionably bad movie.
And I haven't even talked about that part at the end where (SPOILER FOR THE ENDING OF WORST MOVIE IN THE WORLD) the boy dies and goes to Transformers Limbo where he is praised by the spirits of dead robots and is turned into Keanu Reeves from The Matrix except even more lame (because of his robot loyalty he's now The One? After he only started trying to save a robot because he felt guilty for abandoning him earlier and causing said robot's death?). But then he comes back to life because of the power of either Megan Fox's love, or a magically reassembling tiara. Had I been holding anything in my hands at the time, I might very well have chunked it at the screen. I mean, I can enjoy mindless comedy or I can enjoy mindless action, but this was neither. It was just loud, nonsensical, boring and hate Hate HATE HATEHATEHATEHA--- Okay, I'm out.
Jesus.
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Spring Forward into Television (Week the Last)
So that whole blog hiatus really put a damper on my TV week recaps, huh? Though it definitely didn't slow my TV watching (see the previous post about the new TV and the corresponding rise to infinity of my viewing habits). So rather than try to catch back up, I'm going to zero everything out to coincide with the the summer season finales. And then none of us will have to worry about my TV rants until the Fall. Everyone wins (especially you, the reader)!
Monday
The Big Bang Theory - I'm still shocked that this show has grown on me so much. Particularly because when the first episode aired, I distinctly remember calling it one of the worst atrocities I'd ever seen committed on the airwaves. But they've really done something with nothing. Mostly by realizing the strengths of the show - the character of Sheldon and the comedic timing of the actress who plays Penny - and milking the hell out of it. They still have some glaring issues, mostly revolving around the Leonard character who they can't seem to properly pin down, and the protracted romance issues which just are not that compelling. But by really compartmentalizing each episode (the continuity is there, it's just very subtle) they avoid the worst traps, and just focus on the humor, which I'm a big fan of. Color me shocked, but I'm really looking forward to this show coming back.
How I Met Your Mother - A lackluster season finale, but a strong continuation of the series this season, despite some huge off-screen challenges. When both of your lead actresses get pregnant in the same season (and neither is ready for pregnancy in the series), I'm willing to grant some allowances for how you deal with it. HIMYM did extraordinarily well in that regard - hiding Lily and making up jokes for her large belly and then eventually writing her out of a few episodes. To be fair, the ones that she was gone for were some of the weakest in a long time (as much trouble as I have with her character as a person, she really rounds out the cast perfectly), but overall they did good things with a bad situation. The show has definitely fallen from my favorite thing on TV, but it's still great viewing. And NPH is still a national treasure.
Tuesday
The Biggest Loser - Y'all, I always feel like I should qualify every reality TV review that I do with some kind of blanket apology for liking it, but I don't even have a defense anymore. How good (but way too bloated) was this season? I mean, mostly I watch it for the awesomeness that is Jillian the Brutal Trainer (who is a cross between a lunatic and the best person in the world), but for possibly the first time ever, this show had a real level of drama to it. Usually it's about product placement and contrived inspiration (in that order), but this year there was an extra helping of strategery (by the father/son duo) that actually mattered and wasn't trumped up by the producers later. And the end results were seriously crazy - how hot (and overly tanned) were the son and former model by the season finale? And then at the end, my favorite (the crazy old lady) won the whole thing! I don't know, it was all very satisfying, which is something I don't usually associate with The Biggest Loser. What is happening to me?
American Idol - I don't want to talk about this show. But I watched it a lot this year. It was better than usual, but only because my favorites actually lasted until the end for once. And that's all I have to say about that.
Wednesday
Better Off Ted - I don't think I did a single post while this show was airing, but it might have actually jumped up to #1 or #2 on my list of favorite things on TV right now. And that was with the knowledge hanging over my head that it was surely going to get canceled, which makes it a doubly huge feat, since I try my very best not to get attached to doomed things. But then they went and renewed it for a second season, despite the fact that there were only three of us actually watching (I assume).
In any case, this show is so good. I will watch Portia de Rossi in anything, and she absolutely kills with her character - so weird and quirky, but wholly realized and not overacted. Plus the lab duo of Lem and Phil provide some of the most simple and perfect comedy I've seen in ages. I need to stop talking at this point, before I get into individual episodes and this becomes a real essay (but seriously - the one where the company assigns each of the cubical workers one of 4 different personalities and they become rival cliques is so funny that I sort of greyed out from laughing so much. Oh, and the one with the motion detectors... No, no, I will stop).
Lost - How, how, how is this show still on the air and popular? I mean, don't get me wrong - I basically love it like a member of my family, but this is not mainstream television. This is hard-core sci-fi/metaphor shit going down, with so much backstory and episode retention required that I don't understand how people consistently keep watching. Anyways, great, great stuff, even though they (no joke) killed off all three of my remaining favorite characters this season. It got to the point where I was afraid to reclassify my new favorite in my mind, because the next week they would totally end up dead. But I appreciate the progress the show had made, and the strides they are taking to come to a real resolution.
I say all these nice things upfront because I'm about to rage against the show though: It's all about Kate? Really? REALLY? Jack's entire motivation in the season finale? Despite the fact that Juliette is approximately 20 times the better and more interesting character? Despite the fact that there is zero chemistry there? Despite the fact that it makes zero logical sense (if you change everything, Kate is back handcuffed next to an air marshall on plane and you don't know her!). God, I hated that with the power of a million flaming suns.
South Park - one of the weakest half seasons in a while - I laughed at the Jonas Bros episode, and the finale with the pirates was really well done, but everything else added up to absolutely nothing. No wait, I sort of liked the fish sticks episode, a tiny bit. Overall, though, sort of a downer season.
Thursday
I stopped watching Ugly Betty (too repetitive and insulting), Survivor (boring), and Grey's Anatomy (manipulative tripe).
Parks and Recreation - I hated, hated, hated the first couple of episodes (a ripoff of The Office so complete and terrible I felt physically affronted) but I kept watching because there was something interesting hiding there in the characters. They weren't all just stock profiles - Rashida Jones and Chris Pratt (or Bright from Everwood as he will always be in my heart) as the standouts, but a huge nod also to Paul Schneider as the weird womanizer/sort of good guy/sort of terrible person. And the season finale finally delivered on the promise - a funny, no - super funny, and touching episode. After that I'm actively interested in this show, and practically begging that they keep that feeling going.
The Office - Best stretch of episodes in a long, long while. The MSPC thing was amazing - a pretend game-changer that shook up everything, while in the end keeping everything the same. The new receptionist is a surprisingly well done addition, and the non-office relationship stuff was perfectly downplayed while still being interesting.
30 Rock - Still probably my favorite thing on TV. Almost every single line is quotable, to a ridiculous degree. Jane Krakowski needs an Emmy, like, right now.
Southland - Am I crazy, or is this a really good show? I can't tell. That slow-burn reveal on the 'is he gay or straight' cop seemed to me like some of the best ambiguous writing I've seen in a long while.
Friday - None
Saturday - None
Sunday
The Amazing Race - Despite the heavy favoritism at the end (wasn't that three straight legs in China, one of which was a double leg? And wasn't the eventual winner the brother/sister team who could speak Mandarin?) it was a very solid season, Excellent tasks, good teams, and for once there was some actual restraint in over-hyping the tension at the end of a leg.
Monday, May 18, 2009
Wherein a Jukebox Weekend Happens
How long was I waiting in dramatic anticipation of the Jenny Owen Youngs/ Jukebox the Ghost show last Friday? Because of the advent of Twitter, I can pinpoint it down to the minute: 5:43pm on March 18th. I'm not sure if I like that level of documentation on my mental state, but it is handy for times like this.
Anyways, it's been a while. And especially since there's been a dearth of good live music in Dallas, with that level of focused waiting I was pretty worried that it wouldn't live up to the hype in my mind. But it totally did! And not just for a couple of reasons. More like 16 reasons. Starting from the top:
Jenny Owen Youngs is awesome. No, seriously, so awesome. Even with the terrible sound system at the Prophet Bar (which is so, so terrible, you guys. I have yet to go to a show there that didn't have major sound problems) she rocked the house. Not only did she open with my favorite song of hers in the whole world (Voice on Tape), she played the three best tracks off her new album and still had time for 'Drinking Song.' Plus, she dealt with that absolutely bizarre crowd (more on that later) with aplomb.
Jukebox the Ghost is really impressive live. I'd totally like to lie and pretend that I knew who they were before the show was booked, but let's keep the blog honest. I bought the tickets just because of Youngs and didn't have a clue who they were. Instead, I had to play internet catch-up on their MySpace page to at least hear some of their music before I went to the show so I wouldn't be completely out of the loop, since they were joint-headlining.
But in cool twist of luck, they're firmly in my musical taste wheelhouse: Piano, drums, and guitar with a lot of quirky lyrics and hooks thrown about liberally. Think Ben Folds, only with a more electronic and grandious sound. Plus, lots of talk about the apocalypse and the Antichrist. I actually ended up buying their album before the show, it's so catchy.
And they're even better live - they've got that sort of jam-band type of feel that makes them 100 times cooler in person because the product is similar to what you expect, but they really dig in to every song. They're excellent performers - I'd put them right up there with Regina Spektor and Steel Train in terms of musicians I've seen who are way better live vs. their recorded album.
Oh man, and can I talk for a second about the complete insanity that was the audience? This is broken down into many parts. One: the crowd was way smaller than I expected (which meant we could get an awesome view of the stage despite sitting back at the bar during the opening bands). Two: even though the crowd was small, there were two genuinely crazy people in the audience - a strange man who was full-out dancing right in front of the stage during Jenny's set (doing a modified version of The Twist, even during the slower songs), and a similarly excited girl who shouted during a lull between songs "I love your prose!" Which is one of the stranger things I've heard as far as audience-to-live-band compliments go.
Three: I'm almost sure we were the oldest people in the audience who were there for the show itself, and not there as chaperon/ride home for some of the kids up front. In fact, a pretty thorough examination of the people around us yielded only 6 people who had wristbands allowing them to drink. This in-and-of itself is not crazy, but I'm guessing the lowered age-level removed some of the jaded concert-fiend feel to the show, because these kids were rocking out. I mean, at one point during the combined bands portion of the show, Jenny said something like "Now this is a dance song, so you guys need to be dancing," and oh-my-sweet-lord how they took up that challenge with vigor. I love an audience that does more than just stand there and one that actively dances around crazily is like concentrated joy.
Other things that were very cool:
- That I got to say hi to Jenny Owen Youngs
- That I got to buy a tour poster and a vinyl album from her with recordings of the two combined songs that she and Jukebox did together (the best part of the show)
- That she and her band came out and danced along with the audience during the last couple of Jukebox songs
- That the two supporting guitarists with Jenny did an interpretive tambourine dance during the Jukebox/Jenny combined song (Highlight of the night)
- That the bartender interpreted "SoCo and Coke" to mean "A glassfull of SoCo with a tiny splash of Coke"
- That Devon (the friend I conned into coming with me) managed to endure the crazy dancing guy's awkwardness without having to leave the room
Other things that were not cool:
- (Again) the soundboard at the bar (the worst)
Yeah, so: totally awesome show.
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The rest of the weekend was consumed by a graduation party for the boyfriend's best friend, followed by a whole lot of sleeping. Which was pretty sweet itself, but involved little that was noteworthy. So definitely a good couple of days.
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Oh Hey, I Have a Blog. Perhaps I'd Like To Write in It
My writing skills are pretty rusty these days. You'd think that writing would be like bicycle riding or falling off a horse - something that you never forget how to do and is fun for the whole family. But instead it's more like calculus or shooting a high powered rifle - the skill rapidly deteriorates without constant practice and it's only fun for people with severe personality disorders.
But in any case, let's see if we can't bang out a few stories here to kill time between bouts of job hunting.
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So I've become one of those technology worshippers again. I had been doing ridiculously well for years - my last major purchase was a widescreen LCD monitor ages ago, and even that was on sale. I hadn't done a computer purchase, or any large scale electronics buy since changing apartments almost two years ago. I mean, yes, technically in the interim I bought a ridiculous new car that was financially crippling in a way that electronics only dream of being, but that's different. I need to be able to drive around places. Preferably in high luxury with an unreliable but prestigious brand name.
Wait, where was I? Who knows, but the urge finally overwhelmed me and I broke down and picked up a new TV to replace my 5 year old, 1,000 pound monstrosity that had been my constant CRT companion since 3 months before college graduation. In its stead, I have installed something even more outlandish - one of those widescreen plasma behemoths, in a diagonal screen size that I refuse to even mention, except to say that it's more viewing real estate than one should probably expect in an IMAX theatre.
You'd think that such a financially destructive move would leave me sobbing and gasping for air the second the credit card statement came in, complete with the wailing and gnashing of teeth, ending with an artful but well coordinated fall onto a fainting couch. But instead, several things have conspired to make this one of the best purchases I've ever made and quite possibly the only one that I've never once had a recriminating thought about.
- I got a spectacular deal: I obsessively tracked online and newspaper deals for months, never pulling the trigger but constantly on high alert. You can ask anyone who was around me for the months of December to March - I would not shut up about pricing points and the benefits of plasma vs. LCD. It was like living around a Best Buy Associate gone mad. And to top it off, every 20 minutes I would do a scan of the deal sites for those quick fire-sale internet site deals . I never seemed to find any good TV ones, but I did manage to make several completely insane purchases at super low costs. A small sample of which includes: 10 pairs of designer sunglasses for $8.99, two cute shorty-short Penguin swimsuits (retail value $123) for $19.98 total, and two free decks of collectible trading cards (because I'm 12).
Then finally I stumbled upon a super deal for a TV 4 inches larger than my target size, for less than $100 above my allowable budget. I snapped that thing up so fast that the keyboard practically smoked. I was pretty impressed with myself at the time (usually a purchase that large would require hours of agonizing and rationalization) for making the decision so quickly, but now I just worry that my impulse control is going downhill. - No sales tax on the internet, and they shipped, delivered, and helped me get thing into my living room FOR FREE. Which were the parts I was most worried about to be sure. Because my new car has only one disadvantage to the Truck of Malfunction, and that would be that it can't carry large-scale electronics. Plus I am a 150lb weakling in the worst way, and there are several stairs involved in reaching my apartment. Like, more than 8 of them. So seriously, free delivery and installation was just like Christmas, except the fat man involved was wearing a weight belt and driving a moving van, instead of a red suit and a sleigh. I did end up giving him a cookie, though.
- I was able to sell the old giant TV to offset some of the cost: Roommate Frank got his network going and he managed to arrange the liquidation of my old monolith, which I firmly had expected to be a sunk cost. So really, it was like I got 20% off the sales price right there. Roommate Frank is awesome. (Also it was good to see my old TV friend go to a nice home. With room for him to run around and other TVs to play with, I assume.)
- HD TV is the best thing in the world: No really. I can't really explain it, but everything is better in HD. I am less offended by bad sitcoms when viewed in widescreen and sharp definition. I am less incensed at terrible Mavs games when I can see the sweat on Dirk's face so clearly. Watching How It's Made on the new TV comes so close to fulfilling my dream of working in an assembly factory that I can basically pretend I'm right there in the warehouse.
We'll see how it goes, but I think I have it under control.
In unrelated news, has anyone got a line on a good Blu-ray player?
Tuesday, March 03, 2009
And Then He Died
I hate New Year's resolutions now. I used to like the idea of having a goal for the year, only to piss away any chance of reaching that goal within a couple of weeks. It made me feel very motivated, for exactly those two weeks. But starting in 2009, I wasn't going to do that sort of thing anymore. Instead, I was content to live with my mediocre expectations year-in and year-out.
Weirdly though, this year Jordan's new apartment lease happened to start the first of year, and coincidentally the apartment complex opened up a kick-ass new gym right there on the grounds within a week of his move-in. Thus, I have inadvertently wandered into a kept-resolution-type scenario, insofar as I have been going to the gym regularly for two months now starting January 1. It probably only counts as the Alanis-Non-Irony kind of justice, but I like it anyways.
Spoons when you want a knife :: keeping a resolution only after disavowing them forever.
I should write a song.
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Last week Jordan was feeling under the weather, so I ended up going to the gym alone on Monday. I've taken a new approach to gym-work this time, focusing on running and similar cardiovascular things instead of weight lifting. Mostly because lately I've been really worried that when the zombie apocalypse comes, I will be way too far out of shape to outrun the mindless hordes of brain devourers. And everyone knows that muscles don't do any good against a screaming army of the undead. The only real hope is to escape - something that my easily-winded-by-a-short-staircase self would be unable to accomplish.
So running it is.
Usually I hate it, but I've slowly been getting better, at least to the point where I no longer want to projectile vomit after every 30 minute session. I started at 2 miles, then upped it to 2.5 after a month, and on Monday I was shooting for the full 3 miles, only mildly worried that my heart might explode right there in front of the scary yoga lady and her even scarier devotees.
I made it through both of the first two miles relatively easily, spurred on by my excellent iPod Zombie Escaping Playlist(TM). The third mile was by far the hardest, and I was starting to seriously drag. Not even mind-conjured images of 26 Days Later were helping. By that point the yoga class had dispersed, it was only me, one girl on a treadmill, and a guy in the weight lifting area left in the gym.
To understand what follows, you have to understand that I really hate running. Really. The only way I can convincingly keep myself going when I'm tired is to sync in with the music I'm listening to and focus on a fixed point in the mid-distance. A proper mix-tape (such as my ZEP) will be properly calibrated to pick the most likely point of exhaustion (minute 22) as the time to start rising - faster songs, louder, more bass, a good drum set, and I can usually power through to the end. The only side-effect to this is that I might sometimes get a little too into the music.
Not like singing along (I avoid at least that much), but I may swing my arms more forcefully to the beat, or do a little swaying/head bobbing along with the running. It probably looks a little weird (and gives off the impression that I may at any point collapse and/or fall off the moving treadmill) but it works.
Except in this particular instance, I was sweating so profusely that I had to set my iPod up on the treadmill display, cannily thinking that it might slip from my overly-slick hand mid-run, causing disaster and loss of being in the Music/Running Zone.
Item that I did not consider: Placing the iPod on the display left a conspicuous and intrusive white cord from my ears down to the treadmill. And in my Zoning, I overly emphasized the shooting part of M.I.A's Paper Planes with my arms, and swung right through the cord.
From what I can work out (CSI-style in my mind), the recreation of the physics worked thusly: My left arm swung down, yanking the cord to the iPod with it. The earbuds, being far more secured than the iPod itself, held in place. So instead the iPod was pulled down with the cord - only when it reached the edge of the display it popped upwards before it's eventual downward fall. At which point it disconnected from the headphones entirely, shot out projectile-like over my shoulder, behind me, across the gym, and then skidded to a stop at the feet of the guy over in the weights area.
This whole scenario took approximately 1.2 seconds, plus skidding time.
In reaction I glance back and forth like a dog shaking water off its head, trying to figure out what the hell just happened. I finally twist my head all the way around and see the big muscle-bound guy with his head cocked and staring at the strange tiny red device in front of him with a confused look on his face. I lose my balance on the treadmill and manage to artfully twist my left ankle before recovering an eighth of my dignity by not face-planting right then and there. I extract myself from the machine, and sheepishly go collect my iPod from the mildly amused but still confused guy, apologizing like mad and trying not to fall over dead from exhaustion/embarrassment.
Both he and the girl on the other treadmill eye me warily as I walk back to my machine, both still unsure as to why I seemingly threw my iPod across the room at him. Rather than attempt an explanation (I've learned that it never goes well) I just apologized again and tried to finish up the end of my run, limping like a crazy man. I abandoned the attempt after a couple minutes, and bolted from the room, never to return.
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Actually I still go back (it's a really nice gym). But now whenever I walk in, I'm perpetually terrified that either of them will be there and soon the whispering and pointing will begin. Hushed words about 'iPod throwers' will swirl around me and I'll need to run away, possibly crying, and deciding the change my name and appearance.
But so far that hasn't happened. And now I've switched over to the elliptical machines, which don't hurt my ankle and more importantly keep my hands occupied at all times, so everyone can see that I won't be throwing any musical devices anytime soon.
That way everyone wins.
