Aw, c'mon -- they did their horror movie montage in the Academy Awards show and included: "Jaws," "Marathon Man," "Beetlejuice," "The Sixth Sense," and "Edward Scissorhands" in the montage??
No, no, no, no, and no! Not. Horror.
Sunday, March 7, 2010
Sun-Day
Yesterday was very sunny. Nice day, weatherwise. I took the bus to Target, kind of a test run in my post-car-owning days. No problems -- took maybe 1.5 hours, all told (e.g., getting out there, shopping, returning). And going that way kept me from buying TOO much there (although I still topped out at $114 -- I maintain that I can't go to Target without exceeding $100 in purchases, no matter my original intent).
The bus ride was fun; it's so good for people-watching, I can't help but be amused. This father and his little daughter, the latter who kept playing with her sunglasses and dropping them, and he kept picking them up. It was cute, just the exchanged glances, the private smiles. A little game.
Saw a platinum blonde Trixie in shades with a black wool overcoat, black and white striped miniskirt, black hose, black open-toe high heels that looked like they were part felt (?), light gray scarf, burgundy fingernails (and toenails). She was absently chewing some very bright blue gum and reading Ayn Rand's "Three Plays." Ayn Rand? I always hate seeing people read Ayn Rand. Bogus intellectual. Rotten writer. Trixie actually rode on both of my buses -- I got off the first bus and waited at another stop, and then got on my connecting bus, and there was Trixie again, cracking her gum and reading her Rand (moving her lips now and again while reading).
Preppy gay guy sat nearby and gave me a couple of searching glances, seeing if I was game. His look was so retro-preppy I wanted to snicker -- I remember kids in high school prepped out like that. He reminded me of a former classmate (J. P.), who always worked that preppy look to the max. Sort of an amusing image.
My hair is pretty shaggy -- I haven't gotten it cut over the winter; just thick-haired to keep warm! My sideburns are lupine at the moment! I'm sure I'll bite the bullet and get a cut soon, but not yet. Maybe later this month.
I did some spring cleaning around the apartment, cleaned the inside and outside of the windows, which needed it badly. Satisfying to get them all cleaned up. Watched "Apollo 13" with my boys -- B1 loved it (as I knew he would). He wanted to watch it again, so I put it on later in the evening, and ordered "The Right Stuff" for him to watch, too. Anything with rockets and space, I tellya.
The whole Apollo 13 incident happened right before (and when) I was born. Like they splashed down the day after I was born.
I think I'm finally over my cold of the last couple of weeks -- just a tiny bit of it left.
Oh, I refined my White Spaghetti recipe last night -- used rotini with it, instead! I did so because I didn't have any spaghetti in stock, but I did have some rotini (I always have a strategic reserve of pasta in-house -- I told B1 "I never say 'basta!' to pasta!" and he asked what 'basta' meant, and I told him, included the accompanying hand gesture, which is almost instinctive). I'm happy to report that the rotini worked perfectly, actually better than the spaghetti I typically use. I could see Exene trying to process it and I said "What, you're going to try to assimilate that recipe, claim it for your own?" and she said "I'll give proper credit for it." and I said "Yeah, right." She'll never be able to properly replicate it, because she doesn't know all the ingredients that go into it. It takes a certain culinary nuance to get it just right. B1 actually tried some of it, which was nice, although he was skittish about the fresh diced flat-leaf parsley that was in it.
I'm going to get some writing done today.
The bus ride was fun; it's so good for people-watching, I can't help but be amused. This father and his little daughter, the latter who kept playing with her sunglasses and dropping them, and he kept picking them up. It was cute, just the exchanged glances, the private smiles. A little game.
Saw a platinum blonde Trixie in shades with a black wool overcoat, black and white striped miniskirt, black hose, black open-toe high heels that looked like they were part felt (?), light gray scarf, burgundy fingernails (and toenails). She was absently chewing some very bright blue gum and reading Ayn Rand's "Three Plays." Ayn Rand? I always hate seeing people read Ayn Rand. Bogus intellectual. Rotten writer. Trixie actually rode on both of my buses -- I got off the first bus and waited at another stop, and then got on my connecting bus, and there was Trixie again, cracking her gum and reading her Rand (moving her lips now and again while reading).
Preppy gay guy sat nearby and gave me a couple of searching glances, seeing if I was game. His look was so retro-preppy I wanted to snicker -- I remember kids in high school prepped out like that. He reminded me of a former classmate (J. P.), who always worked that preppy look to the max. Sort of an amusing image.
My hair is pretty shaggy -- I haven't gotten it cut over the winter; just thick-haired to keep warm! My sideburns are lupine at the moment! I'm sure I'll bite the bullet and get a cut soon, but not yet. Maybe later this month.
I did some spring cleaning around the apartment, cleaned the inside and outside of the windows, which needed it badly. Satisfying to get them all cleaned up. Watched "Apollo 13" with my boys -- B1 loved it (as I knew he would). He wanted to watch it again, so I put it on later in the evening, and ordered "The Right Stuff" for him to watch, too. Anything with rockets and space, I tellya.
The whole Apollo 13 incident happened right before (and when) I was born. Like they splashed down the day after I was born.
I think I'm finally over my cold of the last couple of weeks -- just a tiny bit of it left.
Oh, I refined my White Spaghetti recipe last night -- used rotini with it, instead! I did so because I didn't have any spaghetti in stock, but I did have some rotini (I always have a strategic reserve of pasta in-house -- I told B1 "I never say 'basta!' to pasta!" and he asked what 'basta' meant, and I told him, included the accompanying hand gesture, which is almost instinctive). I'm happy to report that the rotini worked perfectly, actually better than the spaghetti I typically use. I could see Exene trying to process it and I said "What, you're going to try to assimilate that recipe, claim it for your own?" and she said "I'll give proper credit for it." and I said "Yeah, right." She'll never be able to properly replicate it, because she doesn't know all the ingredients that go into it. It takes a certain culinary nuance to get it just right. B1 actually tried some of it, which was nice, although he was skittish about the fresh diced flat-leaf parsley that was in it.
I'm going to get some writing done today.
Saturday, March 6, 2010
My Rules
It occurred to me that, over the years, I have a small set of working rules that govern my friendship, or at least who I consider friend-worthy:
But it doesn't give people a license to slack off, to be assholes, and it doesn't obviate the need for standards in one's associations, and doesn't obligate me to tolerate shitbaggery when I face it. My friendship is a gift and a treasure, and should not be thrown aside lightly.
I'm forgiving to a point (and loving to a fault, unfortunately), but I pursue an inductive, empirical approach to friendship where I just pay attention to what people say and do: I look, I listen. If somebody has a redeeming quality, I will cut them some slack, but if they force me to pay attention to my aforementioned "rules," I will distance myself from them. I can sometimes forgive one or two of the above (and even then, only if it's not too strong), but more than that, and they're out, or at least consigned to the distant reaches of my psyche -- curbside, on the wrong side of the velvet ropes of the Studio 54 of my mind, heart, and soul.
You know the line about you being judged by the company you keep? Well, I think of that now and again. People strive for excellence in so many things -- why not excellence in friendships, too? I don't believe in "settling" for love, and I don't believe in "settling" in friendships, either. So, taking the opposite of my "rules" above, one can at least hypothetically divine what I value in a friend:
I don't think that's asking too much. It's not the Ten Commandments, but being those things can't hurt. Looking at the above, it's also possible for someone to be exceptionally strong in one area (or, ideally, many of these) and that balances out some of the negatives. Like if someone were exceptionally kind, I'd forgive them for being exceptionally lame -- I wouldn't judge them for that, because their kindness would offset the lameness. Exceptional virtues can (up to a point) forgive faults, so long as the virtues outmatch the vices.
I think it's natural to have an aesthetic -- it just makes sense to me on a deep and intuitive level. To know beauty, you have to understand it intuitively. And I think it applies to friendships, as well. Friendship is a beautiful thing, and I treasure it -- why cheapen it by lowering my standards? Mediocrity in friendship is as damning as mediocrity in anything else.
- Don't be crazy/psycho
- Don't be an asshole
- Don't be pretentious
- Don't be phony/affected
- Don't be chickenshit
- Don't be lame
But it doesn't give people a license to slack off, to be assholes, and it doesn't obviate the need for standards in one's associations, and doesn't obligate me to tolerate shitbaggery when I face it. My friendship is a gift and a treasure, and should not be thrown aside lightly.
I'm forgiving to a point (and loving to a fault, unfortunately), but I pursue an inductive, empirical approach to friendship where I just pay attention to what people say and do: I look, I listen. If somebody has a redeeming quality, I will cut them some slack, but if they force me to pay attention to my aforementioned "rules," I will distance myself from them. I can sometimes forgive one or two of the above (and even then, only if it's not too strong), but more than that, and they're out, or at least consigned to the distant reaches of my psyche -- curbside, on the wrong side of the velvet ropes of the Studio 54 of my mind, heart, and soul.
You know the line about you being judged by the company you keep? Well, I think of that now and again. People strive for excellence in so many things -- why not excellence in friendships, too? I don't believe in "settling" for love, and I don't believe in "settling" in friendships, either. So, taking the opposite of my "rules" above, one can at least hypothetically divine what I value in a friend:
- Be sane
- Be kind and compassionate
- Be honest and modest
- Be natural, unselfconscious, and authentic
- Be bold and spunky
- Be fun
I don't think that's asking too much. It's not the Ten Commandments, but being those things can't hurt. Looking at the above, it's also possible for someone to be exceptionally strong in one area (or, ideally, many of these) and that balances out some of the negatives. Like if someone were exceptionally kind, I'd forgive them for being exceptionally lame -- I wouldn't judge them for that, because their kindness would offset the lameness. Exceptional virtues can (up to a point) forgive faults, so long as the virtues outmatch the vices.
I think it's natural to have an aesthetic -- it just makes sense to me on a deep and intuitive level. To know beauty, you have to understand it intuitively. And I think it applies to friendships, as well. Friendship is a beautiful thing, and I treasure it -- why cheapen it by lowering my standards? Mediocrity in friendship is as damning as mediocrity in anything else.
The Four Horsemen
The title of this article ("The Cavalry Can't Save Them") made me snicker.
Looking at the runway photos, the Elbaz designs for Lanvin jumped out at me, and I was pleased that the reviewer appeared to concur...
Although the models were way too skinny, I thought the designs were sleek and retro-chic in all the right ways.
*cackle*Under the heading “The Seduction of the Libertine,” followed by a line of English verse (skip it), the notes detailed John Galliano’s collection of cavalry coats with blown-away collars, the riding tweeds and herringbones mixed with chunky sweaters, and the muted earth tones “romantically restrained like the rebelling gentry of then and today.”
The gentry? You mean those people who are running to Costco to stock up on Evian.
Looking at the runway photos, the Elbaz designs for Lanvin jumped out at me, and I was pleased that the reviewer appeared to concur...
Alber Elbaz’s clothes for Lanvin this season have two powerful qualities. They are at once emotional and economical, with many of the dresses cut from a single piece of stretch fabric and perhaps another to whip around the shoulder and down one arm to form a sleeve. The emotion comes from the almost muscular way Mr. Elbaz seemed to drape and gather the fabric. He is not a peplum kind of guy — too old hat for him — but to see a silver-gray jacket lightly pinched at the sides and drawn up into folds at the back was to marvel at how he got around his distaste. Perhaps he imagined he was beating egg whites to make a meringue.
Although the models were way too skinny, I thought the designs were sleek and retro-chic in all the right ways.
Friday, March 5, 2010
Video: Virgin O'Riley
Love The Who. Don't love Madonna. Do enjoy Mark Vidler's Go Home Productions mashups a great deal. This one is good...
Steppin' Out
I went across campus to get Subway for lunch (toasted Tuscan Chicken Melt with provolone on Hearty Italian, if you must know), walked across the Midway. The snow is melting. Still, I think the weather's psyching us out, at least here. Barring global warming and what-not, it's way too early for it to be proper Spring, even if it's tantalizingly close. I am waiting for the last blast of Winter to hit, just when I think it's gone.
Video: If Love is the Drug, Then I Want to O.D.
I like the willfully retro sound of this one. Just nice and trippy...
Farmvillainy
I remember originally scoffing about Farmville. What a stupid game, total time sink. Then I got involved with making my farm look cool and beautiful. I'm very pleased with it -- it looks like some mad baron's estate, now. I love it! My boys will often pick the crops I "grow" on it. B2 loves the "Groovy" barn in particular. I'm sure I won't play in it forever, but I think my farm looks damned good. Of course, the grapes, peas, and tomatoes were just planted, so you just get to see a lot of stakes. I'll try to remember to snap a picture before I harvest'em...
I just did a slight tweak of it, got rid of the Durian Tree behind my estate and put a few stands of tall conifers in there, instead. Makes it cozier. And, yes, I KNOW I still have the Christmas tree up, but they didn't give me any storage options for it, and I didn't want to sell it. And it blends so well with those conifers!
I just did a slight tweak of it, got rid of the Durian Tree behind my estate and put a few stands of tall conifers in there, instead. Makes it cozier. And, yes, I KNOW I still have the Christmas tree up, but they didn't give me any storage options for it, and I didn't want to sell it. And it blends so well with those conifers!
Quakers, Spring, Age, Life
I was thinking about how that Chilean earthquake actually altered Earth's rotation a bit, shifting the axis and making our days shorter by like a microsecond and a half. That is fascinating to me, an 8.8 magnitude quake doing that.
Today is a sunny day, bright and cold, the snow melting incrementally. Spring is flexing her toes, giving Old Man Winter the brush-off. Spring is a cutie, all fresh flowers and smiles.
I turn 40 next month! Like in 41 days, I'll be 40 years old! Some people fret about that, but I'm okay with it. I remember as a teenager thinking about how I'd be 30 in 2000, and how far away that seemed. Worlds away. I never imagined where I'd be, what I'd be doing. Just being alive in 2000 was something I thought would be cool. Of course, look where I was, what I ended up doing. Hah.
Still, I duly filled out the Census information (held back a few laughs as I worked on it, given my life situation, which is radically changing from where I was the last time a Census rolled around), and that also made me imagine where I'll be in 10 more years -- B1 will be 18 (nooo!) and B2 will be 14. Astounding. My little guys. Wow. It makes me want to enjoy the time I have with them all the more. More quality time, more fun. I bring so much fun to their little worlds -- they're such a couple of daddy's boys. But I'm going to really make the most of those years. Exene is all about scheduling the boys, but I am much more in favor of unstructured time, letting them savor their lives and childhoods. I try to find some balance in the mix. Kids are so special, and childhood is such a magical time. I will do my best to make the next 10 years even better for them -- craft a new, loving home for them, let them take comfort in that.
Spring is coming. Spring is 15 days away.
Today is a sunny day, bright and cold, the snow melting incrementally. Spring is flexing her toes, giving Old Man Winter the brush-off. Spring is a cutie, all fresh flowers and smiles.
I turn 40 next month! Like in 41 days, I'll be 40 years old! Some people fret about that, but I'm okay with it. I remember as a teenager thinking about how I'd be 30 in 2000, and how far away that seemed. Worlds away. I never imagined where I'd be, what I'd be doing. Just being alive in 2000 was something I thought would be cool. Of course, look where I was, what I ended up doing. Hah.
Still, I duly filled out the Census information (held back a few laughs as I worked on it, given my life situation, which is radically changing from where I was the last time a Census rolled around), and that also made me imagine where I'll be in 10 more years -- B1 will be 18 (nooo!) and B2 will be 14. Astounding. My little guys. Wow. It makes me want to enjoy the time I have with them all the more. More quality time, more fun. I bring so much fun to their little worlds -- they're such a couple of daddy's boys. But I'm going to really make the most of those years. Exene is all about scheduling the boys, but I am much more in favor of unstructured time, letting them savor their lives and childhoods. I try to find some balance in the mix. Kids are so special, and childhood is such a magical time. I will do my best to make the next 10 years even better for them -- craft a new, loving home for them, let them take comfort in that.
Spring is coming. Spring is 15 days away.
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