During a discussion recently with a friend of mine, I mentioned that I didn't really have any good topics to write about at the moment, just a whole bunch of little bits of junk that were sort of floating around in my head. And she gave me some very sage advice: write about whatever you want; it's your damn blog.
So yeah, word to the max. Commencing random bits of info.
-------------------
My latest obsession: How I Met Your Mother. A TV show. Not even just a TV show, a fixed camera sitcom. I don't know what has become of my tastes. But this show is the most hilarious thing on TV that is not The Office, and it's way less cringe-inducing, which makes it a lot easier to watch. I got the first season on DVD for Christmas and by conservative estimate I have watched it all the way through at least 5 times. There is a really nice level of rapport that the cast has working, especially by the end of that first season. And the new second season has really hit its stride, to the point where I consider certain episodes at the pinnacle of good TV. (I would never have thought anything could challenge Arrested Development's Pier Pressure as the best single episode of comedy I have ever seen, but HIMYM's Slap Bet is right there.)
I also have a wicked man-crush on Neil Patrick Harris, who is almost criminally funny in the role of the crazy womanizer.
The show almost went off the rails for me in the first season with the obvious parallels to Friends and the Ross+Rachael4Life issue with the corresponding characters here, but they managed to avoid the really bad pitfalls and come up with some great TV.
And now I'm on some sort of holy quest to convert every person I know into a watcher. This is exactly like Serenity/Firefly, but I think I'm a little less crazed on this one. You should watch it, though.
-----------------------
Also for Christmas, someone (Frank) let me go wild in Borders books and I managed to pick up a nice pile of new Science Fiction, which I have been chewing through for over a month now, really enjoying some hardcore speculative future worlds. It's all from the very dense side of science fiction, the kind that normal people hate and that I absolutely love.
This is all to say that I am massively recommending the novel Spin by Robert Charles Wilson. It's the sort of book that I live for: hard science fiction with a realistic base, some really interesting ideas, and a payoff that doesn't completely suck (which is the problem I almost universally find with really ambitious science fiction). It's got a straightforwardness about the whole thing that I really respect - One day the stars disappear, the Earth is surrounded by some sort of shield that causes time on the planet to move incredibly slowly compared to the rest of the universe, and the main characters are left to deal with the fallout.
Even though it is structured in a stylized series of flashbacks, it manages it with such flair that completely forgive the trappings, where usually I would get tired after 3 chapters. And it doesn't hurt that the characters are surprisingly well written and sympathetic, something else that I tend to hate about sci-fi.
It really put me in the mind of Carl Sagan's Contact, which is pretty much the highest praise I can give to a book. It's not for everyone, but if you like this sort of thing, it's definitely the book to read.
-------------------------
I've started up the World of Warcraft again. I know, so shameful. I have no reasoning or defense, other than the relative cheapness of the entertainment. Your average video game costs at least $30.00 and only offers you limited replay value. By sticking with this one, I'm only incurring about $14.00/month and not wasting money elsewhere.
Also, the new races and areas they added in with the expansion are just great - I've got a new Blood Elf up and running and my hunter has been pulled out of retirement for the long haul up to level 70. If there are any of you out there who still play, I'm on that there server called The Scryers, character name Rohr.
--------------------------
New Musical Interest that I can't get enough of: Arctic Monkeys - Whatever People Say I Am, That's What I'm Not. I really enjoy me some up-tempo rock, and this album has it in spades. Classic exercise/running background music for me. And some of the songs are really sweet too.
I have almost nothing to add, except I really like British imports lately for some reason. I'm just a sucker for accents, I think.
(Other music related confession that ruins pretty much my entire life: I have that Daughtry CD on my iPod. And I sort of like it. A lot. I think I'm gonna go throw up now.)
--------------------------
Went and saw Pan's Labyrinth over the weekend. Completely amazing. Almost impossible to watch at times - the violence is astounding on occasion, but the movie as a whole is astonishing and immersive. The fantastic elements are almost tame compared to the realistic elements of war, and when you combine it with the amazing acting the result is deeply affecting. I don't think I've walked out of a movie that charged...possibly ever. And I include in that my recent viewing of Children of Men, which I imagined would hold the title for a very long time. I also really dug the open-endedness of the conclusion. In fact, I probably would have liked a little more - some additional shades of gray might not have hurt.
A great movie, though. Top three of last year to be sure. Actually to break it down, my real top 5 movie list in terms of best movies I saw for 2006 (say if I ran the Oscars): Children of Men, History Boys, Pan's Labyrinth, Little Miss Sunshine, and Stranger Than Fiction.
Wednesday, January 31, 2007
Monday, January 29, 2007
Destination: Alcoholism
I am on a serious furniture kick lately. The bookshelf/rearrangement process from a couple of weeks ago seems to have fueled my innate desire for the finer things in life. Well, if by "finer things" you mean, "beautiful dark-wood-looking yet wildly cheap knock-offs."
You see, for about 2 months, I have been coveting this particular wine cabinet from Target. I have always wanted a classy place to store all my potential liquors. And this one was almost too perfect: It has a fold out serving top, two swinging doors to hold your wine and wine glasses, two big shelves for your fine liquors, and two drawers to hold all your related alcohol paraphernalia.
The big bonus, though, was the price, which was approximately half that of any similar cabinet that I had ever seen. But lo those many months I had other purchases that took precedence, like bookshelves, Christmas presents, and food. Then about 2 weeks ago, I happened to be in Target and idly wandered by the furniture department and found that sucker on 40% off sale.
To say that I wanted the cabinet was an understatement that defies common convention. I was going to have that unit, no matter what. They had no boxes on the shelf, so I immediately grab one of the salespeople and breathlessly ask if they have any in the back. She says that she thinks there is one left somewhere, and goes to check, telling me to stay right there. I am practically drooling at this point.
Between the time when she leaves until she reappears, I become some wild animal protecting his nest: three different people wander by and start commenting on the cabinet.
"Hey, this is really nice! And it's 40% off," says one very tall customer.
"Uh, yeah, sorry. They're all totally sold out. Too bad." I say. I am very forceful. I may or may not have made little shoo-ing motions with my hands at the tall guy.
"Oh, that's too bad. Well maybe the display unit is on sale." This guy is a sneaky bastard, I'll give him that. (I hadn't even considered that idea, dammit.)
"Ohh, uh...nope! I already asked. It's a drag, I know. It's so cool, right? But maybe better luck next time!" This time the shoo-ing motions are real and pronounced.
"Uh, yeah..." The distrust in his eyes is obvious. He sees my fanaticism, I am too obvious in my machinations. I am wildly scared that he will ask why I'm waiting around and the jig will be up. I try to think up some excuse for my loitering, but can find no plausible excuse. I actively wonder if I could take him in hand-to-hand combat (final decision: uh, no.) Finally after an eternity he wanders off. I am able to breath once again.
The next two people are easier sells, and I successfully defend my turf with a quick and decisive "Oh, I already asked and they are sold out," combined with a dismissive flip of the head.
The whole thing proves for naught, though, when she comes back with the sad news that they don't have any in the back. And when I inquire about the display unit (thanks, sneaky tall guy) she explains that it's been bolted to the shelf and the back is full of holes.
Y'all, you do not understand the level of crushing disappointment that I felt. I had considered that cabinet as a member of my own family. Apparently the horror was evident on my face, as the salesgirl practically fell over herself telling me not to worry, because surely one of the other Targets in the DFW area would have one in stock. I am slightly mollified, but still near tears.
She manages to track down one unit at a nearby store which I acquire with much less drama than one would expect given the first round of theatrics. I didn't even have to lie to one person at the second (obviously superior) store.
And once it was put together, it is awesome. Remember, it's not alcoholism if the liquor comes out of an amazingly fancy cherry wood cabinet. We had a hugely successful bar initiation party over the weekend to celebrate my even newer-found newfound adulthood, in which the liquors flowed freely and deliciously.
This is a very slippery slope, however, since now I really want a new matching dining room table and chairs, and of course new end tables in the living room, not to mention a new matching entertainment center for the TV...
You see, for about 2 months, I have been coveting this particular wine cabinet from Target. I have always wanted a classy place to store all my potential liquors. And this one was almost too perfect: It has a fold out serving top, two swinging doors to hold your wine and wine glasses, two big shelves for your fine liquors, and two drawers to hold all your related alcohol paraphernalia.
The big bonus, though, was the price, which was approximately half that of any similar cabinet that I had ever seen. But lo those many months I had other purchases that took precedence, like bookshelves, Christmas presents, and food. Then about 2 weeks ago, I happened to be in Target and idly wandered by the furniture department and found that sucker on 40% off sale.
To say that I wanted the cabinet was an understatement that defies common convention. I was going to have that unit, no matter what. They had no boxes on the shelf, so I immediately grab one of the salespeople and breathlessly ask if they have any in the back. She says that she thinks there is one left somewhere, and goes to check, telling me to stay right there. I am practically drooling at this point.
Between the time when she leaves until she reappears, I become some wild animal protecting his nest: three different people wander by and start commenting on the cabinet.
"Hey, this is really nice! And it's 40% off," says one very tall customer.
"Uh, yeah, sorry. They're all totally sold out. Too bad." I say. I am very forceful. I may or may not have made little shoo-ing motions with my hands at the tall guy.
"Oh, that's too bad. Well maybe the display unit is on sale." This guy is a sneaky bastard, I'll give him that. (I hadn't even considered that idea, dammit.)
"Ohh, uh...nope! I already asked. It's a drag, I know. It's so cool, right? But maybe better luck next time!" This time the shoo-ing motions are real and pronounced.
"Uh, yeah..." The distrust in his eyes is obvious. He sees my fanaticism, I am too obvious in my machinations. I am wildly scared that he will ask why I'm waiting around and the jig will be up. I try to think up some excuse for my loitering, but can find no plausible excuse. I actively wonder if I could take him in hand-to-hand combat (final decision: uh, no.) Finally after an eternity he wanders off. I am able to breath once again.
The next two people are easier sells, and I successfully defend my turf with a quick and decisive "Oh, I already asked and they are sold out," combined with a dismissive flip of the head.
The whole thing proves for naught, though, when she comes back with the sad news that they don't have any in the back. And when I inquire about the display unit (thanks, sneaky tall guy) she explains that it's been bolted to the shelf and the back is full of holes.
Y'all, you do not understand the level of crushing disappointment that I felt. I had considered that cabinet as a member of my own family. Apparently the horror was evident on my face, as the salesgirl practically fell over herself telling me not to worry, because surely one of the other Targets in the DFW area would have one in stock. I am slightly mollified, but still near tears.
She manages to track down one unit at a nearby store which I acquire with much less drama than one would expect given the first round of theatrics. I didn't even have to lie to one person at the second (obviously superior) store.
And once it was put together, it is awesome. Remember, it's not alcoholism if the liquor comes out of an amazingly fancy cherry wood cabinet. We had a hugely successful bar initiation party over the weekend to celebrate my even newer-found newfound adulthood, in which the liquors flowed freely and deliciously.
This is a very slippery slope, however, since now I really want a new matching dining room table and chairs, and of course new end tables in the living room, not to mention a new matching entertainment center for the TV...
Friday, January 26, 2007
Wherein I Barely Restrain My Bloodlust
So when I was driving in to work today, I was waiting at a stoplight and slowly freezing into a chunk of ice, since the TOM has decided that the heater is no longer a vital component in its continued survival. I was just sort of sitting there, slightly shivering and mostly concentrating on getting into my office, where the newly installed thermostat is actually regulating the temperature in there. No more would I need to wear my scarf and jacket at my desk, like some sort of antarctic pole monitor. I should be able to warm up pretty quic--
When all of a sudden, some guy in the next car over from me has rolled down his window and just totally spits all over my TOM. Like a full on, super super super gross loogey from deep within. And it now occludes the majority of my passenger-side window. And did I mention it's like the grossest thing I have seen in 2007?
I cock my head to the side and give him the standard "Uh, what the fuck, man, did you just spit all over my car?" look. He just sort of shrugs and starts laughing, and taps the shoulder of his passenger to draw attention to his apparent masterful spitting job he has just done. They both enjoy a hearty laugh over this, until the light turns green and they speed off, still cackling away.
Seriously? SERIOUSLY?!
Okay, I have been in a bad mood this week, I will fully own up to that. My boss left the country and has left me in charge of doing many more jobs than I am capable of accomplishing, which results in a whole bunch of clients yelling at me all throughout the day, even though it is most definitely not my fault. This has sent me into a very angry space.
That said, good sweet and fuzzy lord, I was ready throw down against this redneck hick who somehow thinks it is the highest level of comedy that he has covered my truck in his disgusting bodily fluids.
I mean, that's just not done, right? I guess, on the incredibly odd chance that you feel the intense need/desire to spit out the window of your car and you happen to expectorate a little harder than you anticipated and it hits someone else's vehicle, the least that you could do would be to apologize or look a little ashamed of yourself. You don't point and laugh. I had to waste 5 bucks and be late for work this morning so I could drive through the goddamn car wash to clear off your shit from my car. (Cause I'll be damned if I'm going to let some fool's mucus dry on my truck).
It's now maybe 2 hours later and the bloodlust is still now only starting to subside.
Damn people. Always spitting on my car and shit.
When all of a sudden, some guy in the next car over from me has rolled down his window and just totally spits all over my TOM. Like a full on, super super super gross loogey from deep within. And it now occludes the majority of my passenger-side window. And did I mention it's like the grossest thing I have seen in 2007?
I cock my head to the side and give him the standard "Uh, what the fuck, man, did you just spit all over my car?" look. He just sort of shrugs and starts laughing, and taps the shoulder of his passenger to draw attention to his apparent masterful spitting job he has just done. They both enjoy a hearty laugh over this, until the light turns green and they speed off, still cackling away.
Seriously? SERIOUSLY?!
Okay, I have been in a bad mood this week, I will fully own up to that. My boss left the country and has left me in charge of doing many more jobs than I am capable of accomplishing, which results in a whole bunch of clients yelling at me all throughout the day, even though it is most definitely not my fault. This has sent me into a very angry space.
That said, good sweet and fuzzy lord, I was ready throw down against this redneck hick who somehow thinks it is the highest level of comedy that he has covered my truck in his disgusting bodily fluids.
I mean, that's just not done, right? I guess, on the incredibly odd chance that you feel the intense need/desire to spit out the window of your car and you happen to expectorate a little harder than you anticipated and it hits someone else's vehicle, the least that you could do would be to apologize or look a little ashamed of yourself. You don't point and laugh. I had to waste 5 bucks and be late for work this morning so I could drive through the goddamn car wash to clear off your shit from my car. (Cause I'll be damned if I'm going to let some fool's mucus dry on my truck).
It's now maybe 2 hours later and the bloodlust is still now only starting to subside.
Damn people. Always spitting on my car and shit.
Tuesday, January 23, 2007
Oscar Noms & Whatnot
Just because I am wildly bored today, I will make my amazing Oscar Non-Predictions. In every single category, even the useless ones. Exactly like the real show, only with fewer really bad fashion choices (as far as you can tell).
I call them Non-Predictions, because it's more my list of preferred winners, rather than who really will win. Watch as I make snap decisions about movies that I have almost assuredly never seen! Gape at my complete lack of movie sense! Fun for the whole family!
(Winners Giant and in Italics)
Best motion picture of the year
BABEL
THE DEPARTED
LETTERS FROM IWO JIMA
LITTLE MISS SUNSHINE
THE QUEEN
Those are my options? Really? No Dreamgirls? No Children of Men? Fine. I loved Little Miss Sunshine and haven't seen the rest. Woo! (And I was wondering why I wasn't that into the Oscars this year...)
Achievement in directing
BABEL
THE DEPARTED
LETTERS FROM IWO JIMA
THE QUEEN
UNITED 93
So people will stop going on about how Scorsese's never won an Oscar. Are you happy? Award due entirely to making people shut up. (See also: Why I want Peyton Manning and the Colts to win the Superbowl)
Performance by an actor in a leading role
Leonardo DiCaprio - BLOOD DIAMOND
Ryan Gosling - HALF NELSON
Peter O'Toole - VENUS
Will Smith - THE PURSUIT OF HAPPYNESS
Forest Whitaker - THE LAST KING OF SCOTLAND
For two reasons: 1) Because I love Ryan Gosling like nothing else, and 2) because the people who run movie theatres in Dallas refused to show The Last King of Scotland until this week and now I'm too poor to go see it. That'll show'em.
Performance by an actor in a supporting role
Alan Arkin - LITTLE MISS SUNSHINE
Jackie Earle Haley - LITTLE CHILDREN
Djimon Hounsou - BLOOD DIAMOND
Eddie Murphy - DREAMGIRLS
Mark Wahlberg - THE DEPARTED
The only category in which I'll be using the reasoning that I need to see a movie to rate the performance. And in this case, Alan Arkin beats out Eddie Murphy, because frankly Murphy was the only thing I didn't like in Dreamgirls.
Performance by an actress in a leading role
Penélope Cruz - VOLVER
Judi Dench - NOTES ON A SCANDAL
Helen Mirren - THE QUEEN
Meryl Streep - THE DEVIL WEARS PRADA
Kate Winslet - LITTLE CHILDREN
Because I'm still bitter that she hasn't won an Oscar. Someday, dammit! Did you people not watch Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind? I wouldn't mind if Meryl Streep won, though.
Performance by an actress in a supporting role
Adriana Barraza - BABEL
Cate Blanchett - NOTES ON A SCANDAL
Abigail Breslin - LITTLE MISS SUNSHINE
Jennifer Hudson - DREAMGIRLS
Rinko Kikuchi - BABEL
Fine. And not just because her singing causes people in a movie theatre to spontaneously applaud a screen. You people do understand that she's not actually in the theatre, right? Who are you applauding for? It's creepy. But yeah, she was crazy good. I would also really like it if the little girl from Little Miss Sunshine took it instead. She was awesome.
Best animated feature film of the year
CARS
HAPPY FEET
MONSTER HOUSE
Come on. If you ignore exactly how creepy a world entirely consisting of living, talking cars actually is, the movie is totally awesome.
Achievement in art direction
DREAMGIRLS
THE GOOD SHEPHERD
PAN'S LABYRINTH
PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN: DEAD MAN'S CHEST
THE PRESTIGE
Because I want it to win something.
Achievement in cinematography
THE BLACK DAHLIA
CHILDREN OF MEN
THE ILLUSIONIST
PAN'S LABYRINTH
THE PRESTIGE
Because I have never been as keyed up by a movie as that one. AWESOME.
Achievement in costume design
CURSE OF THE GOLDEN FLOWER
THE DEVIL WEARS PRADA
DREAMGIRLS
MARIE ANTOINETTE
THE QUEEN
How hot were those outfits in The Devil Wears Prada? And who else are they going to give it to? The Queen? "Yeah, that was a nice tiara she had going on." Whatever.
Best documentary feature
DELIVER US FROM EVIL
AN INCONVENIENT TRUTH
IRAQ IN FRAGMENTS
JESUS CAMP
MY COUNTRY, MY COUNTRY
I don't even know what it's about, but hot damn do I want it to win.
Best documentary short subject
THE BLOOD OF YINGZHOU DISTRICT
RECYCLED LIFE
REHEARSING A DREAM
TWO HANDS
It's got blood, so it must be interesting, right?
Achievement in film editing
BABEL
BLOOD DIAMOND
CHILDREN OF MEN
THE DEPARTED
UNITED 93
Seriously, I really liked this movie. Plus, the editing was out of control. According to the internet (obviously reliable) that one extended action sequence at the end was a single 15 minute shot from two cameras, uncut. Bold.
Best foreign language film of the year
AFTER THE WEDDING
DAYS OF GLORY (INDIGÈNES)
THE LIVES OF OTHERS
PAN'S LABYRINTH
WATER
Oh man, someday I'm totally going to get to see this movie, and it's going to be awesome. I can just sense it.
Achievement in makeup
APOCALYPTO
CLICK
PAN'S LABYRINTH
Because I refuse to vote for that Mel Gibson horror-fest, and I don't think Click is actually a movie. I would have heard about it.
Achievement in music written for motion pictures (Original score)
BABEL
THE GOOD GERMAN
NOTES ON A SCANDAL
PAN'S LABYRINTH
THE QUEEN
Actually, a very pretty soundtrack. I was really impressed.
Achievement in music written for motion pictures (Original song)
"I Need to Wake Up" - AN INCONVENIENT TRUTH
"Listen" - DREAMGIRLS
"Love You I Do" - DREAMGIRLS
"Our Town" - CARS
"Patience" - DREAMGIRLS
Because Beyonce deserves something for getting upstaged (and how) by an American Idol contestant who didn't even make the top 4 of her season. Plus, I really love that song. (Bonus: When she sings it in the movie, her mouth opens so wide it looks like she's a python about to devour some prey. That is committed singing right there.)
Aside: If Randy Newman wins for "Our Town," I will release upon the world a vengeance unlike anything ever known before. I haaaate that song so much.
Adapted screenplay
BORAT CULTURAL LEARNINGS . . .
CHILDREN OF MEN
THE DEPARTED
LITTLE CHILDREN
NOTES ON A SCANDAL
Borat? Really? Uh, anyways. So yeah, Children of Men was awesome. Have I mentioned that yet?
Original screenplay
BABEL
LETTERS FROM IWO JIMA
LITTLE MISS SUNSHINE
PAN'S LABYRINTH
THE QUEEN
Impressively real dialogue wins out over all the contrivance.
Best animated short film
THE DANISH POET
LIFTED
THE LITTLE MATCHGIRL
MAESTRO
NO TIME FOR NUTS
Once again, an awesome title wins out. Although if this is starring that damn squirrel from Ice Age, I immediately retract my vote.
Best live action short film
BINTA AND THE GREAT IDEA (BINTA Y LA GRAN IDEA)
ÉRAMOS POCOS (ONE TOO MANY)
HELMER & SON
THE SAVIOUR
WEST BANK STORY
Can't go wrong with a great idea. Or someone named Binta.
Achievement in sound editing
APOCALYPTO
BLOOD DIAMOND
FLAGS OF OUR FATHERS
LETTERS FROM IWO JIMA
PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN: DEAD MAN'S CHEST
Because I assume pirates are the most difficult thing to sound like.
Achievement in sound mixing
APOCALYPTO
BLOOD DIAMOND
DREAMGIRLS
FLAGS OF OUR FATHERS
PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN: DEAD MAN'S CHEST
So we really need two sound categories? Dreamgirls, because I feel bad that it wasn't nominated for Best Picture.
Achievement in visual effects
PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN: DEAD MAN'S CHEST
POSEIDON
SUPERMAN RETURNS
Say what you will about this movie, but I loved how it looked. A lot.
----------------------------
So that was sufficiently boring, right? Just imagine how much fun it will be when that is protracted over 4 full hours. Methinks I'll be skipping the telecast this year.
Feel free to rip apart all my picks in the comments. But you leave Children of Men alone, dang it. I will not hear a word against theboat movie!
I call them Non-Predictions, because it's more my list of preferred winners, rather than who really will win. Watch as I make snap decisions about movies that I have almost assuredly never seen! Gape at my complete lack of movie sense! Fun for the whole family!
(Winners Giant and in Italics)
Best motion picture of the year
BABEL
THE DEPARTED
LETTERS FROM IWO JIMA
LITTLE MISS SUNSHINE
THE QUEEN
Those are my options? Really? No Dreamgirls? No Children of Men? Fine. I loved Little Miss Sunshine and haven't seen the rest. Woo! (And I was wondering why I wasn't that into the Oscars this year...)
Achievement in directing
BABEL
THE DEPARTED
LETTERS FROM IWO JIMA
THE QUEEN
UNITED 93
So people will stop going on about how Scorsese's never won an Oscar. Are you happy? Award due entirely to making people shut up. (See also: Why I want Peyton Manning and the Colts to win the Superbowl)
Performance by an actor in a leading role
Leonardo DiCaprio - BLOOD DIAMOND
Ryan Gosling - HALF NELSON
Peter O'Toole - VENUS
Will Smith - THE PURSUIT OF HAPPYNESS
Forest Whitaker - THE LAST KING OF SCOTLAND
For two reasons: 1) Because I love Ryan Gosling like nothing else, and 2) because the people who run movie theatres in Dallas refused to show The Last King of Scotland until this week and now I'm too poor to go see it. That'll show'em.
Performance by an actor in a supporting role
Alan Arkin - LITTLE MISS SUNSHINE
Jackie Earle Haley - LITTLE CHILDREN
Djimon Hounsou - BLOOD DIAMOND
Eddie Murphy - DREAMGIRLS
Mark Wahlberg - THE DEPARTED
The only category in which I'll be using the reasoning that I need to see a movie to rate the performance. And in this case, Alan Arkin beats out Eddie Murphy, because frankly Murphy was the only thing I didn't like in Dreamgirls.
Performance by an actress in a leading role
Penélope Cruz - VOLVER
Judi Dench - NOTES ON A SCANDAL
Helen Mirren - THE QUEEN
Meryl Streep - THE DEVIL WEARS PRADA
Kate Winslet - LITTLE CHILDREN
Because I'm still bitter that she hasn't won an Oscar. Someday, dammit! Did you people not watch Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind? I wouldn't mind if Meryl Streep won, though.
Performance by an actress in a supporting role
Adriana Barraza - BABEL
Cate Blanchett - NOTES ON A SCANDAL
Abigail Breslin - LITTLE MISS SUNSHINE
Jennifer Hudson - DREAMGIRLS
Rinko Kikuchi - BABEL
Fine. And not just because her singing causes people in a movie theatre to spontaneously applaud a screen. You people do understand that she's not actually in the theatre, right? Who are you applauding for? It's creepy. But yeah, she was crazy good. I would also really like it if the little girl from Little Miss Sunshine took it instead. She was awesome.
Best animated feature film of the year
CARS
HAPPY FEET
MONSTER HOUSE
Come on. If you ignore exactly how creepy a world entirely consisting of living, talking cars actually is, the movie is totally awesome.
Achievement in art direction
DREAMGIRLS
THE GOOD SHEPHERD
PAN'S LABYRINTH
PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN: DEAD MAN'S CHEST
THE PRESTIGE
Because I want it to win something.
Achievement in cinematography
THE BLACK DAHLIA
CHILDREN OF MEN
THE ILLUSIONIST
PAN'S LABYRINTH
THE PRESTIGE
Because I have never been as keyed up by a movie as that one. AWESOME.
Achievement in costume design
CURSE OF THE GOLDEN FLOWER
THE DEVIL WEARS PRADA
DREAMGIRLS
MARIE ANTOINETTE
THE QUEEN
How hot were those outfits in The Devil Wears Prada? And who else are they going to give it to? The Queen? "Yeah, that was a nice tiara she had going on." Whatever.
Best documentary feature
DELIVER US FROM EVIL
AN INCONVENIENT TRUTH
IRAQ IN FRAGMENTS
JESUS CAMP
MY COUNTRY, MY COUNTRY
I don't even know what it's about, but hot damn do I want it to win.
Best documentary short subject
THE BLOOD OF YINGZHOU DISTRICT
RECYCLED LIFE
REHEARSING A DREAM
TWO HANDS
It's got blood, so it must be interesting, right?
Achievement in film editing
BABEL
BLOOD DIAMOND
CHILDREN OF MEN
THE DEPARTED
UNITED 93
Seriously, I really liked this movie. Plus, the editing was out of control. According to the internet (obviously reliable) that one extended action sequence at the end was a single 15 minute shot from two cameras, uncut. Bold.
Best foreign language film of the year
AFTER THE WEDDING
DAYS OF GLORY (INDIGÈNES)
THE LIVES OF OTHERS
PAN'S LABYRINTH
WATER
Oh man, someday I'm totally going to get to see this movie, and it's going to be awesome. I can just sense it.
Achievement in makeup
APOCALYPTO
CLICK
PAN'S LABYRINTH
Because I refuse to vote for that Mel Gibson horror-fest, and I don't think Click is actually a movie. I would have heard about it.
Achievement in music written for motion pictures (Original score)
BABEL
THE GOOD GERMAN
NOTES ON A SCANDAL
PAN'S LABYRINTH
THE QUEEN
Actually, a very pretty soundtrack. I was really impressed.
Achievement in music written for motion pictures (Original song)
"I Need to Wake Up" - AN INCONVENIENT TRUTH
"Listen" - DREAMGIRLS
"Love You I Do" - DREAMGIRLS
"Our Town" - CARS
"Patience" - DREAMGIRLS
Because Beyonce deserves something for getting upstaged (and how) by an American Idol contestant who didn't even make the top 4 of her season. Plus, I really love that song. (Bonus: When she sings it in the movie, her mouth opens so wide it looks like she's a python about to devour some prey. That is committed singing right there.)
Aside: If Randy Newman wins for "Our Town," I will release upon the world a vengeance unlike anything ever known before. I haaaate that song so much.
Adapted screenplay
BORAT CULTURAL LEARNINGS . . .
CHILDREN OF MEN
THE DEPARTED
LITTLE CHILDREN
NOTES ON A SCANDAL
Borat? Really? Uh, anyways. So yeah, Children of Men was awesome. Have I mentioned that yet?
Original screenplay
BABEL
LETTERS FROM IWO JIMA
LITTLE MISS SUNSHINE
PAN'S LABYRINTH
THE QUEEN
Impressively real dialogue wins out over all the contrivance.
Best animated short film
THE DANISH POET
LIFTED
THE LITTLE MATCHGIRL
MAESTRO
NO TIME FOR NUTS
Once again, an awesome title wins out. Although if this is starring that damn squirrel from Ice Age, I immediately retract my vote.
Best live action short film
BINTA AND THE GREAT IDEA (BINTA Y LA GRAN IDEA)
ÉRAMOS POCOS (ONE TOO MANY)
HELMER & SON
THE SAVIOUR
WEST BANK STORY
Can't go wrong with a great idea. Or someone named Binta.
Achievement in sound editing
APOCALYPTO
BLOOD DIAMOND
FLAGS OF OUR FATHERS
LETTERS FROM IWO JIMA
PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN: DEAD MAN'S CHEST
Because I assume pirates are the most difficult thing to sound like.
Achievement in sound mixing
APOCALYPTO
BLOOD DIAMOND
DREAMGIRLS
FLAGS OF OUR FATHERS
PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN: DEAD MAN'S CHEST
So we really need two sound categories? Dreamgirls, because I feel bad that it wasn't nominated for Best Picture.
Achievement in visual effects
PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN: DEAD MAN'S CHEST
POSEIDON
SUPERMAN RETURNS
Say what you will about this movie, but I loved how it looked. A lot.
----------------------------
So that was sufficiently boring, right? Just imagine how much fun it will be when that is protracted over 4 full hours. Methinks I'll be skipping the telecast this year.
Feel free to rip apart all my picks in the comments. But you leave Children of Men alone, dang it. I will not hear a word against the
Thursday, January 18, 2007
Wherein My Martyr Complex Kicks In
So Dallas is in the grip of the lamest ice storm ever.
I can remember an ice storm in Orange when I was a sophomore in high school when the entire town was without power for 4 days and the roads were all blocked by fallen trees. We survived by eating cold soup direct from the can, huddling in darkened piles of blankets, trying to read by flickering candle light.
Then we walked to school, uphill, both ways, barefoot, in the snow and ice.
And we were thankful for the opportunity, dang it.
In contrast, this storm has done nothing but be cold and ice up the roads in the mornings. Which I suppose is bad enough, seeing as I was trapped on the Northwest Highway overpass for 30 minutes on Monday morning because my Truck of Malfunction didn't have enough traction to get across the icy bridge, and eventually need two burly police officers to push me across. I've apparently fallen very hard since my younger, more hardy days of my youth.
But on the whole, this is just not your crushing winter storm. So when there was an ice advisory yesterday morning, I just sacked up (and put on a fabulous scarf) and left for the office about 20 minutes early, expecting delays. And people, let me tell you, when people say that Texas drivers aren't good at driving in ice, it is the understatement of the decade. Every driver on the roads decided as a collective unit that the maximum drive speed on any road would be 15 mph. It took me 45 minutes to drive the whole 8 miles to my office building. The ice was not that bad, but you would think it was the Storm of the Century the way everyone was reacting.
And when I get there? Ain't a soul in the building. Everyone is shut down: the receptionist, my corporate office, every other office in the suite. It is me, all alone at the cold end of a long empty hallway. It is at this point that my phone vibrates, indicating that I have a new voicemail. It's my boss, informing me that we're just gonna wait to open the office until about 11:00 or so.
This would be when the martyr part comes in: I had dragged my butt through the freezing cold, risked the absolutely insane other drivers on the road who don't understand the concept of ice and skidding, and pretty much icing off vital portions of my body in the process (of course the heater doesn't work in the TOM). And no one else in the world can be bothered to even try and come in? Oh the bitterness, how it flowed. No one was even around to appreciate my awesome scarf.
And to top it all off, the login server on my computer was down, which meant I couldn't even get any work done, because only our IT guys at the corporate office can reset the server. And they were all snug in their warm beds at home, no doubt, dreaming about redundant backup RAID systems or whatever it is that IT guys like.
Oh, and the heater in the office wasn't on, so my office was basically an ice box. It was warmer standing out in the foyer than it was in my office, which seems to leak in the cold from the outside like we're a rusty shack in the woods.
I don't think I have felt so unjustly put upon in ages and ages. Sometimes it's good to just revel in that feeling, though, which is exactly what I did for about 3 hours, fuming and pacing about the office. Frankly, the righteous anger was the only thing keeping me warm.
Then I came to my senses and bolted around 2:00 and took the world's most delicious 3 hour mid afternoon nap, all while feeling vaguely sick and sneezy. I think my body wanted to contract the pneumonia from having gone out in the cold in order to get the full martyrdom thing going on. That would show them. Show them all, but good!
But alas, I survived and lived to play a whole bunch of World of Warcraft that night, making an avatar of the gayest elf that ever lived, who has blond highlights, a pink & teal outfit, and has the job of jewelry maker. So in the end I guess it all worked out for the best.
Still, man, why am I the only hard worker in the city! Oh, the injustice of it all!
I can remember an ice storm in Orange when I was a sophomore in high school when the entire town was without power for 4 days and the roads were all blocked by fallen trees. We survived by eating cold soup direct from the can, huddling in darkened piles of blankets, trying to read by flickering candle light.
Then we walked to school, uphill, both ways, barefoot, in the snow and ice.
And we were thankful for the opportunity, dang it.
In contrast, this storm has done nothing but be cold and ice up the roads in the mornings. Which I suppose is bad enough, seeing as I was trapped on the Northwest Highway overpass for 30 minutes on Monday morning because my Truck of Malfunction didn't have enough traction to get across the icy bridge, and eventually need two burly police officers to push me across. I've apparently fallen very hard since my younger, more hardy days of my youth.
But on the whole, this is just not your crushing winter storm. So when there was an ice advisory yesterday morning, I just sacked up (and put on a fabulous scarf) and left for the office about 20 minutes early, expecting delays. And people, let me tell you, when people say that Texas drivers aren't good at driving in ice, it is the understatement of the decade. Every driver on the roads decided as a collective unit that the maximum drive speed on any road would be 15 mph. It took me 45 minutes to drive the whole 8 miles to my office building. The ice was not that bad, but you would think it was the Storm of the Century the way everyone was reacting.
And when I get there? Ain't a soul in the building. Everyone is shut down: the receptionist, my corporate office, every other office in the suite. It is me, all alone at the cold end of a long empty hallway. It is at this point that my phone vibrates, indicating that I have a new voicemail. It's my boss, informing me that we're just gonna wait to open the office until about 11:00 or so.
This would be when the martyr part comes in: I had dragged my butt through the freezing cold, risked the absolutely insane other drivers on the road who don't understand the concept of ice and skidding, and pretty much icing off vital portions of my body in the process (of course the heater doesn't work in the TOM). And no one else in the world can be bothered to even try and come in? Oh the bitterness, how it flowed. No one was even around to appreciate my awesome scarf.
And to top it all off, the login server on my computer was down, which meant I couldn't even get any work done, because only our IT guys at the corporate office can reset the server. And they were all snug in their warm beds at home, no doubt, dreaming about redundant backup RAID systems or whatever it is that IT guys like.
Oh, and the heater in the office wasn't on, so my office was basically an ice box. It was warmer standing out in the foyer than it was in my office, which seems to leak in the cold from the outside like we're a rusty shack in the woods.
I don't think I have felt so unjustly put upon in ages and ages. Sometimes it's good to just revel in that feeling, though, which is exactly what I did for about 3 hours, fuming and pacing about the office. Frankly, the righteous anger was the only thing keeping me warm.
Then I came to my senses and bolted around 2:00 and took the world's most delicious 3 hour mid afternoon nap, all while feeling vaguely sick and sneezy. I think my body wanted to contract the pneumonia from having gone out in the cold in order to get the full martyrdom thing going on. That would show them. Show them all, but good!
But alas, I survived and lived to play a whole bunch of World of Warcraft that night, making an avatar of the gayest elf that ever lived, who has blond highlights, a pink & teal outfit, and has the job of jewelry maker. So in the end I guess it all worked out for the best.
Still, man, why am I the only hard worker in the city! Oh, the injustice of it all!
Wednesday, January 10, 2007
Who Are These "People"
I... seriously, there are no words.
Click it.
Scroll down...down...past Movies...down to Music.
The People's Choice Award for Favorite Music Group: Nickelback
Nickelback? Nickelback?! Maybe the award was just missing a qualifier. Maybe they were voting for "Favorite Music Group that I Would Like to Stab With a Pitchfork." Because I could get behind that.
But I'm pretty sure these People Who Were Choosing actually do like Nickelback. And that makes the baby Jesus cry.
I take this as a personal affront. Who are these so-called "People" and why are they representing me? It's enough to make someone want to move to Canada.
My faith in America has been dashed, all due to the People's Choice Awards. Hard times.
Click it.
Scroll down...down...past Movies...down to Music.
The People's Choice Award for Favorite Music Group: Nickelback
Nickelback? Nickelback?! Maybe the award was just missing a qualifier. Maybe they were voting for "Favorite Music Group that I Would Like to Stab With a Pitchfork." Because I could get behind that.
But I'm pretty sure these People Who Were Choosing actually do like Nickelback. And that makes the baby Jesus cry.
I take this as a personal affront. Who are these so-called "People" and why are they representing me? It's enough to make someone want to move to Canada.
My faith in America has been dashed, all due to the People's Choice Awards. Hard times.
Monday, January 08, 2007
A Fit of Productivity
I was seized by one of those rare fits on Saturday. The sort of fit where you wake up at 9:00am on a weekend and just feel the need to be productive. I am subject to one of these fits approximately once every three years, so when it hits, I jump to it.
By noon, I had the entire house clean, including the horror that was the kitchen and my bedroom, which has lately taken on the look a fabled disaster scene, akin to the wreck of the Hesperus. By 12:30 I was on my way to our local neighborhood IKEA store to finally pick up the shelving unit that I've been saying I am going to buy for approximately 5 months now. Since I'm still using the wire rack shelves that I acquired (read: stole) from Jim approximately 4 years ago, it was high time to come into the 21st century.
Or actually, I was not so much 'on my way' at 12:30 as I was 'staring at the Truck of Malfunction and its mostly flat rear left tire.' Normally this would have sent me into a spiraling depression of a weekend of sitting on the couch eating Oreos and watching How I Met Your Mother on DVD, but I was taken by this fit and as such, kept moving forward.
I called my dad, who recommended trying some of that Fix-A-Flat stuff in a can to get the TOM as far as a tire store so they could assess the situation further. Luckily, I happened to have a can of that stuff on hand at all time. It is the TOM after all, I'm like a boy scout where it is concerned - Always Prepared (for the Worst Mechanical Difficulties Possible). I popped that sucker onto the tire and started the magical inflation process. It got about 30 seconds into the pumping process when the entire apparatus exploded.
Apparently always being prepared is a bad thing, as the ancientness of my Fix-a-Flat caused the little tube through which the foam flows to degrade enough to collapse into a million pieces under the slightest of pressure. Thus there I was, covered in tire foam, sitting in the middle of my parking lot with a still very flat tire. Now normally this level of setback would have sent me into a spiraling depression so deep that it would have been a solid week on the couch, upgraded to eating frosting straight from the can while watching Arrested Development on DVD. I was in a fit though, you'll remember, so I kept going.
I decided that enough of the stuff may have gotten into the tire and made a mad dash to the Target about 30 seconds from my house to get one of those portable air pump systems that will plug into your cigarette lighters. This worked like gangbusters - the tire not only inflated, but stayed that way. Obviously I lead some sort of blessed life in regards to the TOM - everything malfunctions, but it never stops running.
So about an hour after expected departure I got on the road and made it to IKEA without anyone dying or getting covered in exploding foam. Things were looking up. I spent many an hour staring at shelves in IKEA, completely bewildered, but eventually decided to go with these, which are the most monolithic shelves I have ever seen. The little picture doesn't properly convey their sheer size - think the beginning of 2001: A Space Odyssey and monkeys. Only with room to store books! The box they came in was approximately 10 feet long (not an exaggeration) and weighed 98 pounds (ditto). Getting that thing from the store -> the TOM -> the apartment all by myself will rank somewhere around #6 on my all-time awesome accomplishments list. I'm telling you, this fit was strong.
Once home, I managed to build the shelves with minimal amounts of issues (IKEA is easy, yo), although I did drop a chunk of wood on my right middle finger and pop a blood vessel, causing it to swell up to twice it's normal size. But it's already healed two days later, so it barely warrants mentioning.
I then completely rearranged my bedroom (in the process cleaning out my closet and throwing away an entire truck-full of clothes, boxes, broken chairs, and electronic equipment) into the sexiest configuration you can possibly imagine. It is wildly adult and yet functional. I would post pictures, but I don't want too many people throwing themselves at me, and I know you would all be tempted to do so if I unleashed all the awesomeness over the internet.
Trust me, though: Hot.
The reorganization process took the entire rest of the day before it was completed; the final piece (making the bed) occurred at 11:42pm, which means that I was basically being efficient and doing things for over 14 straight hours on a weekend. Unprecedented, is what I am saying.
And in response to this flurry of activity, I did absolutely nothing at all on Sunday and only left the house in order to find food for dinner. Thus, the balance is maintained.
Sometimes I love being functional. But I never want to overdo it, so I'll be slacking off for at least the rest of January, just to be safe.
By noon, I had the entire house clean, including the horror that was the kitchen and my bedroom, which has lately taken on the look a fabled disaster scene, akin to the wreck of the Hesperus. By 12:30 I was on my way to our local neighborhood IKEA store to finally pick up the shelving unit that I've been saying I am going to buy for approximately 5 months now. Since I'm still using the wire rack shelves that I acquired (read: stole) from Jim approximately 4 years ago, it was high time to come into the 21st century.
Or actually, I was not so much 'on my way' at 12:30 as I was 'staring at the Truck of Malfunction and its mostly flat rear left tire.' Normally this would have sent me into a spiraling depression of a weekend of sitting on the couch eating Oreos and watching How I Met Your Mother on DVD, but I was taken by this fit and as such, kept moving forward.
I called my dad, who recommended trying some of that Fix-A-Flat stuff in a can to get the TOM as far as a tire store so they could assess the situation further. Luckily, I happened to have a can of that stuff on hand at all time. It is the TOM after all, I'm like a boy scout where it is concerned - Always Prepared (for the Worst Mechanical Difficulties Possible). I popped that sucker onto the tire and started the magical inflation process. It got about 30 seconds into the pumping process when the entire apparatus exploded.
Apparently always being prepared is a bad thing, as the ancientness of my Fix-a-Flat caused the little tube through which the foam flows to degrade enough to collapse into a million pieces under the slightest of pressure. Thus there I was, covered in tire foam, sitting in the middle of my parking lot with a still very flat tire. Now normally this level of setback would have sent me into a spiraling depression so deep that it would have been a solid week on the couch, upgraded to eating frosting straight from the can while watching Arrested Development on DVD. I was in a fit though, you'll remember, so I kept going.
I decided that enough of the stuff may have gotten into the tire and made a mad dash to the Target about 30 seconds from my house to get one of those portable air pump systems that will plug into your cigarette lighters. This worked like gangbusters - the tire not only inflated, but stayed that way. Obviously I lead some sort of blessed life in regards to the TOM - everything malfunctions, but it never stops running.
So about an hour after expected departure I got on the road and made it to IKEA without anyone dying or getting covered in exploding foam. Things were looking up. I spent many an hour staring at shelves in IKEA, completely bewildered, but eventually decided to go with these, which are the most monolithic shelves I have ever seen. The little picture doesn't properly convey their sheer size - think the beginning of 2001: A Space Odyssey and monkeys. Only with room to store books! The box they came in was approximately 10 feet long (not an exaggeration) and weighed 98 pounds (ditto). Getting that thing from the store -> the TOM -> the apartment all by myself will rank somewhere around #6 on my all-time awesome accomplishments list. I'm telling you, this fit was strong.
Once home, I managed to build the shelves with minimal amounts of issues (IKEA is easy, yo), although I did drop a chunk of wood on my right middle finger and pop a blood vessel, causing it to swell up to twice it's normal size. But it's already healed two days later, so it barely warrants mentioning.
I then completely rearranged my bedroom (in the process cleaning out my closet and throwing away an entire truck-full of clothes, boxes, broken chairs, and electronic equipment) into the sexiest configuration you can possibly imagine. It is wildly adult and yet functional. I would post pictures, but I don't want too many people throwing themselves at me, and I know you would all be tempted to do so if I unleashed all the awesomeness over the internet.
Trust me, though: Hot.
The reorganization process took the entire rest of the day before it was completed; the final piece (making the bed) occurred at 11:42pm, which means that I was basically being efficient and doing things for over 14 straight hours on a weekend. Unprecedented, is what I am saying.
And in response to this flurry of activity, I did absolutely nothing at all on Sunday and only left the house in order to find food for dinner. Thus, the balance is maintained.
Sometimes I love being functional. But I never want to overdo it, so I'll be slacking off for at least the rest of January, just to be safe.
Thursday, January 04, 2007
When I Suddenly Hate Things That I Once Loved
I spent over 3 hours this morning writing the copy and formatting the text and pictures in what amounts to a spam email. I'm talking dedicated craftsmanship in every facet: I rewrote the language in it over 15 times, I tweaked the spacing, I changed the clip art, I reworked the entire logo and heading for our company, and then redid the entire thing when I realized the format was only compatible with Microsoft Outlook.
I don't know why this is noteworthy in the slightest, except to illustrate exactly how far I have fallen here in the year of Our Lord Two Thousand and Seven.
No matter what, I am way impressed with that piece of spam. It's got to be one of the finest works I have ever seen in its genre that does not mention a Nigerian prince.
-------------------------
In unrelated news, I can no longer stand Lunchables, as of Tuesday afternoon at 1:07pm. Which has been something of a problem, considering over the weekend I bought one for every day of this week, so I wouldn't waste money going out to lunch (2007 is the year of fiscal responsibility). Now lunchtime has become a dreaded event. I am completely over the little crackers and the processed cheeses and the gross meat, yet I must continue to work with them each day this week. Tomorrow is usually a day of rejoicing (it being Friday and all) and yet all I can see is the lunch hour ahead and my heart sinks.
I don't know what I was thinking back when I used to revel in the deliciousness that was Lunchables. Perhaps I had suffered several blows to the head, and I'm just now getting over them. It's a viable possibility, I'm very accident prone. Anyways, yuck.
---------------------------
We are on day 14 of the 15 day experiment entitled "Jason seriously tries to grow a beard." It was the worst idea I have had in quite a while (excluding the Lunchable debacle). I look crazed, homeless, and also patchy, because there are portions of my face that simply refuse to grow hair. Why my body refuses to get with the program will forever be a mystery to me.
I have no idea what I was thinking when I started this plan. But I said I would give it a full 15 days to get into shape, and dammit, that's how long it's going to get. I think I would have made an excellent choice for captain of the Titanic. "We set this course last week, it's perfect, I'm not about to change it for some ice."
So yeah, it's not long for this world, but if you want to see me all crazy and potentially homeless, your best bet is in the next day and a half. View while the viewing is horrifying. That's what I always say, at least.
I don't know why this is noteworthy in the slightest, except to illustrate exactly how far I have fallen here in the year of Our Lord Two Thousand and Seven.
No matter what, I am way impressed with that piece of spam. It's got to be one of the finest works I have ever seen in its genre that does not mention a Nigerian prince.
-------------------------
In unrelated news, I can no longer stand Lunchables, as of Tuesday afternoon at 1:07pm. Which has been something of a problem, considering over the weekend I bought one for every day of this week, so I wouldn't waste money going out to lunch (2007 is the year of fiscal responsibility). Now lunchtime has become a dreaded event. I am completely over the little crackers and the processed cheeses and the gross meat, yet I must continue to work with them each day this week. Tomorrow is usually a day of rejoicing (it being Friday and all) and yet all I can see is the lunch hour ahead and my heart sinks.
I don't know what I was thinking back when I used to revel in the deliciousness that was Lunchables. Perhaps I had suffered several blows to the head, and I'm just now getting over them. It's a viable possibility, I'm very accident prone. Anyways, yuck.
---------------------------
We are on day 14 of the 15 day experiment entitled "Jason seriously tries to grow a beard." It was the worst idea I have had in quite a while (excluding the Lunchable debacle). I look crazed, homeless, and also patchy, because there are portions of my face that simply refuse to grow hair. Why my body refuses to get with the program will forever be a mystery to me.
I have no idea what I was thinking when I started this plan. But I said I would give it a full 15 days to get into shape, and dammit, that's how long it's going to get. I think I would have made an excellent choice for captain of the Titanic. "We set this course last week, it's perfect, I'm not about to change it for some ice."
So yeah, it's not long for this world, but if you want to see me all crazy and potentially homeless, your best bet is in the next day and a half. View while the viewing is horrifying. That's what I always say, at least.
Tuesday, January 02, 2007
Small Damn Music Blog
Year end round-up posts are so cliche. And yet, I just can't stop myself. It's fun. And easy!
With less ado, this is my breakdown of the best albums released in 2006. Obviously it is wickedly subjective (as all such lists are) but even more so than usually, because I didn't listen to a ton of new music this year. I think I had a total of 18 new albums, which I have oh so impressively whittled down to a top 10 (really 11). Amazing, no? (As always, album must have been technically released in the 2006 calendar year for eligibility)
10. The Raconteurs: Broken Boy Soldiers - More difficult than your normal rock/guitar/alt band, with only the single "Steady As She Goes" being really accessible and radio friendly. Over all, though, it's an excellent album, if a little short (clocks in just over half an hour). As usual Jack White (half of The White Stripes) continues to impress me with final products that are better than the individual parts. Lends itself very easily to multiple listenings and so far has aged very well on my iPod. Best song: (Tie) "Steady As She Goes" / "Blue Veins"
9. Christina Aguilera: Back to Basics - Ambitious. That's really the only word I can use to describe it. She tries really hard, succeeds in some cases, fails in others. Gains big points for her good catchy songs ("Ain't No Other Man" / "Candyman"), and for reaching for some range on interesting quieter numbers ("Save Me From Myself"). Loses points for: even more power ballads (enough!), and carnival barkers (just say no to clowns!). So-so overall points, but that doesn't mean I don't listen to it constantly. Best song: "Save Me From Myself"
8. Paolo Nutini: These Streets - My obscure plug for today. I love everything about this CD: his voice on the solo stuff, how well the whole ensemble band pieces fit in with the style of the album, the general - (what's the word, wistfulness? naivety?) - vibe that oozes from the entire set. Again, it's a little short, and a little too laid back to be the best thing in the world, but one of my favorite things to just have on. Comforting. Best song: "Million Faces"
7. (tie) Yeah Yeah Yeahs: Show Your Bones - This is a really good CD. I keep having to remind myself of that. Invariably, though, when I pull out the Yeah Yeah Yeahs, I always go to Fever to Tell, one of my favoritiest albums ever, so this one always gets pushed out of the way. But forgiving the sin of it not being FtT, it's a great accomplishment. More listenable, more mature sounding, and some unbeatable tracks. Best song: "Phenomena"
The Strokes: First Impressions of Earth - It gets a tie with Show Your Bones, because I could basically write the exact same thing as above, only replace 'Fever to Tell' with 'Is This It?'. This is still an amazing CD. As with all Strokes CDs, after a bit it all tends to blend a little, but for good music, you'd be hard pressed to find anything better. Best song: "Juicebox"
6. Lily Allen: Alright, Still - Import British pop. A little light rap ("Knock 'Em Out"), some itchy pop ("Shame for You"), and some simple, pretty standards. Sometimes an album doesn't have to be groundbreaking and stunning to be great. I have nothing that really makes this CD stand out wildly, but it's had a longer continuous rotation in my iPod than anything else currently. Best Song: "Knock 'Em Out," which is just amazingly infectious.
5. Orson: Bright Idea - I'll be brief here, since I pimped this thing uncontrollably when it came out, but this CD puts me in a better mood than basically anything ever. Pure pop/rock that tosses me into a seriously happy/nostalgic place. Best Song: "No Tomorrow"
4. The Dresden Dolls: Yes, Virginia... - There is no explanation for my fanaticism for The Dresden Dolls. They're a throwback cabaret duo (girl on piano, guy on rhythm) and frankly, everything about both of their albums is pretty creepy. Yes Virginia is their newer album, three years in the making, and it sort of knocks my socks off, despite songs about: Nazi sympathizers, sex changes (multiple songs, people), and masturbation. It's a very mature album, and Amanda Palmer's voice is very powerful despite it's unconventional sound. The album never falls off the rails, even though you constantly expect it. And bonus: I'm always vaguely skeeved out every time I listen to it. But no matter what, I'm completely hooked. Best Song: "Shores of California"
3. Bitter:Sweet: The Mating Game - Do I babble on about sweet eletronica/smooth jazz/shy girl fronted bands too much? It sure seems like I do, what with all the Imogen Heap, Roisin Murphy, etc mess I've always got going on. But this CD is like the culmination of all of those in one perfect package. It's all the potential of Murphy with the polish of Heap and their own perfect spin on electronica/jazz with some perfect hooks. Any other year this would be my #1 album in a walk. Best song: "Mating Game"
2. The Elected: Sun, Sun, Sun - The most unexpected album of the year. I was a small fan of Rilo Kiley, which is why I picked this up in the first place, but now I'm a huge fan of The Elected. Road trip pop/blues, with enough country involved that I feel a little dirty. They use a slide guitar! I mean come on. But seriously, such a perfect album. I don't even have words to describe. Best song: "Fireflies in a Steel Mill"
1. Regina Spektor: Begin to Hope - Yeah yeah, I know half the people in the world hate her music. The other half seem to tolerate it. And then there is me, who is obsessed with it all. I love this album with reckless abandon. For the cheery pop songs that are amazing and easily accessible ("Fidelity", "On the Radio"), and for the deeper, heavier songs that take a while to really appreciate ("Apres Moi", "Field Below"). When you add in the bonus disc that came with the original release, it really is an amazingly complete album. And I'm not just saying that because I have a huge crush on her. Probably. Best song: "Hotel Song," if I have to pick just one. Big love for "Summer in the City" too, though.
With less ado, this is my breakdown of the best albums released in 2006. Obviously it is wickedly subjective (as all such lists are) but even more so than usually, because I didn't listen to a ton of new music this year. I think I had a total of 18 new albums, which I have oh so impressively whittled down to a top 10 (really 11). Amazing, no? (As always, album must have been technically released in the 2006 calendar year for eligibility)
10. The Raconteurs: Broken Boy Soldiers - More difficult than your normal rock/guitar/alt band, with only the single "Steady As She Goes" being really accessible and radio friendly. Over all, though, it's an excellent album, if a little short (clocks in just over half an hour). As usual Jack White (half of The White Stripes) continues to impress me with final products that are better than the individual parts. Lends itself very easily to multiple listenings and so far has aged very well on my iPod. Best song: (Tie) "Steady As She Goes" / "Blue Veins"
9. Christina Aguilera: Back to Basics - Ambitious. That's really the only word I can use to describe it. She tries really hard, succeeds in some cases, fails in others. Gains big points for her good catchy songs ("Ain't No Other Man" / "Candyman"), and for reaching for some range on interesting quieter numbers ("Save Me From Myself"). Loses points for: even more power ballads (enough!), and carnival barkers (just say no to clowns!). So-so overall points, but that doesn't mean I don't listen to it constantly. Best song: "Save Me From Myself"
8. Paolo Nutini: These Streets - My obscure plug for today. I love everything about this CD: his voice on the solo stuff, how well the whole ensemble band pieces fit in with the style of the album, the general - (what's the word, wistfulness? naivety?) - vibe that oozes from the entire set. Again, it's a little short, and a little too laid back to be the best thing in the world, but one of my favorite things to just have on. Comforting. Best song: "Million Faces"
7. (tie) Yeah Yeah Yeahs: Show Your Bones - This is a really good CD. I keep having to remind myself of that. Invariably, though, when I pull out the Yeah Yeah Yeahs, I always go to Fever to Tell, one of my favoritiest albums ever, so this one always gets pushed out of the way. But forgiving the sin of it not being FtT, it's a great accomplishment. More listenable, more mature sounding, and some unbeatable tracks. Best song: "Phenomena"
The Strokes: First Impressions of Earth - It gets a tie with Show Your Bones, because I could basically write the exact same thing as above, only replace 'Fever to Tell' with 'Is This It?'. This is still an amazing CD. As with all Strokes CDs, after a bit it all tends to blend a little, but for good music, you'd be hard pressed to find anything better. Best song: "Juicebox"
6. Lily Allen: Alright, Still - Import British pop. A little light rap ("Knock 'Em Out"), some itchy pop ("Shame for You"), and some simple, pretty standards. Sometimes an album doesn't have to be groundbreaking and stunning to be great. I have nothing that really makes this CD stand out wildly, but it's had a longer continuous rotation in my iPod than anything else currently. Best Song: "Knock 'Em Out," which is just amazingly infectious.
5. Orson: Bright Idea - I'll be brief here, since I pimped this thing uncontrollably when it came out, but this CD puts me in a better mood than basically anything ever. Pure pop/rock that tosses me into a seriously happy/nostalgic place. Best Song: "No Tomorrow"
4. The Dresden Dolls: Yes, Virginia... - There is no explanation for my fanaticism for The Dresden Dolls. They're a throwback cabaret duo (girl on piano, guy on rhythm) and frankly, everything about both of their albums is pretty creepy. Yes Virginia is their newer album, three years in the making, and it sort of knocks my socks off, despite songs about: Nazi sympathizers, sex changes (multiple songs, people), and masturbation. It's a very mature album, and Amanda Palmer's voice is very powerful despite it's unconventional sound. The album never falls off the rails, even though you constantly expect it. And bonus: I'm always vaguely skeeved out every time I listen to it. But no matter what, I'm completely hooked. Best Song: "Shores of California"
3. Bitter:Sweet: The Mating Game - Do I babble on about sweet eletronica/smooth jazz/shy girl fronted bands too much? It sure seems like I do, what with all the Imogen Heap, Roisin Murphy, etc mess I've always got going on. But this CD is like the culmination of all of those in one perfect package. It's all the potential of Murphy with the polish of Heap and their own perfect spin on electronica/jazz with some perfect hooks. Any other year this would be my #1 album in a walk. Best song: "Mating Game"
2. The Elected: Sun, Sun, Sun - The most unexpected album of the year. I was a small fan of Rilo Kiley, which is why I picked this up in the first place, but now I'm a huge fan of The Elected. Road trip pop/blues, with enough country involved that I feel a little dirty. They use a slide guitar! I mean come on. But seriously, such a perfect album. I don't even have words to describe. Best song: "Fireflies in a Steel Mill"
1. Regina Spektor: Begin to Hope - Yeah yeah, I know half the people in the world hate her music. The other half seem to tolerate it. And then there is me, who is obsessed with it all. I love this album with reckless abandon. For the cheery pop songs that are amazing and easily accessible ("Fidelity", "On the Radio"), and for the deeper, heavier songs that take a while to really appreciate ("Apres Moi", "Field Below"). When you add in the bonus disc that came with the original release, it really is an amazingly complete album. And I'm not just saying that because I have a huge crush on her. Probably. Best song: "Hotel Song," if I have to pick just one. Big love for "Summer in the City" too, though.
Limping Into the New Year
Okay, the clumsiness is officially out of control.
We are all aware of the dishwashing incident that almost ended my life. That was recently followed by my Christmas day run-in with a razor that removed a dime sized chunk of skin off the middle knuckle on my right hand (Sean: "Was this, like, a straight razor?", Jason: "No, a normal Mach 3. What?! They're tricky!"). That one is still on it's way towards healing, but hurts like nothing else.
And then yesterday. So I was in the kitchen extracting me a big bowl of banana pudding on which to continue to gorge myself (note: mission accomplished) when I managed to drop one of my tiny white ceramic plates on the floor. It proceeded to shatter into one million tiny pieces, as is the custom of all my dishes. At the time it happened, I was all "Ouch," but for no real reason; the dish hadn't landed on my feet. In my one moment of good luck (heh), it had landed directly between my legs, avoiding any sudden amputation of toes.
I went about the process of cleaning it up, a process that is made considerably easier when it is ceramic instead of glass - the whole thing took about 2 minutes. I toss everything in the trash and begin to go back to the pudding, when I realize that there are these weird little red blotches all over the tile in the kitchen floor. It looks like the tracks of something, so I naturally start following them around to see what horrible beast has made residence in our kitchen. (If you have seen my kitchen lately, you would know why this was not a shocking development to me. Place looks like one of those Oprah guests who have a psychological condition and can't throw away trash.)
Only, I follow them all the way around the kitchen in several circles until I realize that I'm the one who is doing the tracking - I am freely bleeding from my right heel. And there is a nice chunk of ceramic embedded in the side of my foot. We'll put aside, for now, the question of how this goes down without me feeling anything except a tiny ouch at the beginning of this whole mess, and get on with story. Miraculously, I get myself into my bathroom without dripping too much blood anywhere, although there is an excellent chance that the cuff of my nice jeans are ruined forever. I extract the ceramic with as little fuss as possible (Just one or two girly yelps. Totally making progress), and I manage to patch myself up enough to work with (lord knows by now I have the most sophisticated first aid kit known to man). But the cut is pretty bad and I can't put pressure on my heel without starting the bleeding up again. So for the past two days, I've been mincing around on the ball of my right foot like the least effective burglar ever.
Seriously, this is out of control. I am about two escalating incidents away from having an entirely useless right side of my body. Already I can't grip things tightly with my right hand (knuckle), and now I'm limping around everywhere. It's like I've taken on injuring myself as some kind of performance art. And it sucks.
Ouch.
That is all.
(Oh, and Happy New Year! May your 2007 be less injury prone than 2006! (Someone's has to be.))
We are all aware of the dishwashing incident that almost ended my life. That was recently followed by my Christmas day run-in with a razor that removed a dime sized chunk of skin off the middle knuckle on my right hand (Sean: "Was this, like, a straight razor?", Jason: "No, a normal Mach 3. What?! They're tricky!"). That one is still on it's way towards healing, but hurts like nothing else.
And then yesterday. So I was in the kitchen extracting me a big bowl of banana pudding on which to continue to gorge myself (note: mission accomplished) when I managed to drop one of my tiny white ceramic plates on the floor. It proceeded to shatter into one million tiny pieces, as is the custom of all my dishes. At the time it happened, I was all "Ouch," but for no real reason; the dish hadn't landed on my feet. In my one moment of good luck (heh), it had landed directly between my legs, avoiding any sudden amputation of toes.
I went about the process of cleaning it up, a process that is made considerably easier when it is ceramic instead of glass - the whole thing took about 2 minutes. I toss everything in the trash and begin to go back to the pudding, when I realize that there are these weird little red blotches all over the tile in the kitchen floor. It looks like the tracks of something, so I naturally start following them around to see what horrible beast has made residence in our kitchen. (If you have seen my kitchen lately, you would know why this was not a shocking development to me. Place looks like one of those Oprah guests who have a psychological condition and can't throw away trash.)
Only, I follow them all the way around the kitchen in several circles until I realize that I'm the one who is doing the tracking - I am freely bleeding from my right heel. And there is a nice chunk of ceramic embedded in the side of my foot. We'll put aside, for now, the question of how this goes down without me feeling anything except a tiny ouch at the beginning of this whole mess, and get on with story. Miraculously, I get myself into my bathroom without dripping too much blood anywhere, although there is an excellent chance that the cuff of my nice jeans are ruined forever. I extract the ceramic with as little fuss as possible (Just one or two girly yelps. Totally making progress), and I manage to patch myself up enough to work with (lord knows by now I have the most sophisticated first aid kit known to man). But the cut is pretty bad and I can't put pressure on my heel without starting the bleeding up again. So for the past two days, I've been mincing around on the ball of my right foot like the least effective burglar ever.
Seriously, this is out of control. I am about two escalating incidents away from having an entirely useless right side of my body. Already I can't grip things tightly with my right hand (knuckle), and now I'm limping around everywhere. It's like I've taken on injuring myself as some kind of performance art. And it sucks.
Ouch.
That is all.
(Oh, and Happy New Year! May your 2007 be less injury prone than 2006! (Someone's has to be.))
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)