Sunday, May 31, 2009

"What a terrible mistake to let go of something wonderful for something real. " - Miranda July

I have a new addiction. Her name is Miranda July.


"Do you have doubts about life? Are you unsure if it is really worth the trouble? Look at the sky: that is for you. Look at each person's face as you pass them on the street: those faces are for you. And the street itself, and the ground under the street, and the ball of fire underneath the ground: all these things are for you. They are as much for you as they are for other people. Remember this when you wake up in the morning and think you have nothing. Stand up and face the east. Now praise the sky and praise the light within each person under the sky. It's okay to be unsure. But praise, praise, praise. " - Miranda July

Steven found a copy of No One Belongs Here More Than You on the cheap table at Waldenbooks. We almost didn't get it, because it was an audio CD, and neither one of us had cars with CD players. But then two weeks passed, and Iggy got a CD player, and the CD with the magical yellow cover called out to us and we were oh so happy that we had paid $3.99, just in case.



I recommend it with a grain of salt. It is not a book for children or the easily squeamish. But it is a book for me and so, therefore, a blog post has been created in its honor.

Saturday, May 30, 2009

Wallflower friends til the end

Friday, August 14th. 9:30pm. Record Bar. Kansas City, KS.

All are welcome. Few will go. Who will you be?

Wednesday, May 27, 2009

Stimulus Tuesday

Every Tuesday at the Sethchild Cinema, they have dollar popcorn and dollar drinks. This gives Steven and I the perfect excuse to take in a summer blockbuster every week. If you have to grow up and work through the summer, you might as well splurge on big screen CGI, cheap popcorn and a couple rounds of air hockey. Ahh, adulthood.

Our first movie: Terminator Salvation aka Sexy Men with Guns.



Seriously. Arnold was a fantastic Terminator and the scariest bad guy ever created. But he wasn't.... attractive, per se. I mean, he really had a quality that made him not human. Which is why it continues to be strange to see him in office. But now in the fourth movie, they are amping up the sex appeal. Everyone is in these crazy detailed leather and boot couture outfits, women swing from abandoned scrap metal and then let their long curly hair flow around their perfect white teeth and post-apocalyptic eye make-up. It's a little strange. Sarah Connor came back in the second movie looking completely ripped, but it wasn't for sex appeal. She was leading the resistance! She had to be physically fit. Everyone in this movie is too pretty to be fighting machines. Though I do like a good set of cheekbones on the big screen.



Other than the visual appeal, the movie was fun. And if you have seen (and guiltily loved) the third movie, your expectations are in the right place for this one. It combined some of the best elements of the series in the big action numbers - motorcycle chases, big crane truck race, scary stripped down terminators, and the obligatory final battle in a factory. How do they end up in so many factories with the same stairs, spitting fire, and machinery noise? Are they using the same set for each film, just updating the special effects? Speaking of which, CGI Arnold was awesome and chilling. Reminded me completely of Otto in one of the final levels of Wolfenstein 3D. He was worth all of the ridiculous "dialogue." Probably the movie was a giant flop, but liking Arnold movies is practically a learned behavior in my development. I give it an A+ and suggest you read this article. Because it's nice to read about Christian Bale not yelling at someone for a change. (Beware of plot spoilers)

Next week's movie: Up! Thank heavens for Pixar. It's not summer without it.

And if you're still jonesin' for a Kris Allen fix ... here's a pretty cute little article about our favorite American Idol. All together now: Awww.

Wednesday, May 20, 2009

My blog OWNS.

Clearly, America is taking notice from this tiny little blog.

Because Kris Allen is victorious. (And stinkin' adorable)



And now, unfortunately, "No Boundaries" is his first single.

Other thoughts on the finale:

-I kind of really want to buy Steve Martin's bluegrass album
-Margo would've been so much better than stinky Megan
-Anoop has completely forgotten that he is supposed to be geeky, and is now way too cool for me to ever relate to
-David Cook sounded flawless
-Simon looked pissed
-Adam finally wore all the wacky things he wanted. Metal wings? Spice Girl boots? KISS?
-LOVED the Keith Urban/Kris Allen duet. Forgot how good light and fluffy country music is for the soul
-Pretty sure I definitely want to see the Black Eyed Peas in concert

And finally, I am officially far too invested in this show. Thank you Fox for developing such compelling mindless entertainment. As it did my senior year of high school, it is the best form of escapist therapy that I have ever found.

Now go watch Kris videos on youtube because I cannot for the life of me get them to stick around this blog.

Wednesday, May 13, 2009

Culture Watch: American Idol 2009

I. love. Kris. Allen.

But... can he actually win?

I hope so. Because I think a win would mean that maybe other cool kids such as myself, have found a place on Idol. When it gets down to the end, I feel like you're not really voting for a person as much as you are a genre. Danny Gokey is the older woman crowd favorite - big ballad soft rock. This is a GIANT voting category. This voting category lets people like Clay Aiken and Taylor Hicks get past round one. It is a force to be reckoned with and it scares the crap out of me. I won't mention his disastrous attempt at rock. I won't mention how incredibly DULL and AWKWARD he is on TV. But I will mention that I hate the judges. I hate that they make a choice in the first week, and then get their brains all twisted around so that they don't notice when a performer stops improving and when others start beating them. I won't mention it, because maybe it's harder to see than it looks. But aren't they supposed to be professionals?



Moving on...



Adam Lambert is the rock crowd vote. And, apparently, the MTV crowd favorite. Maybe it's the eyeliner and the alternative lifestyle. Who knows exactly why such an obvious rocker has made it so far on what started out as a competition to find the next big pop star. Other rockers have tried and failed to straddle the line between rock and pop, but Adam represents more than one crowd, and I think that's why he's been getting so much love. I also think that's why Simon Cowell has been out and about the talk show circuit chatting him up so much. It would look mighty silly for the show to have another soft rock winner that goes on to make subpar records that the show's target audience won't buy. For me, Adam's allure wore off after that beautiful cover of Gary Jules' version of "Mad World." Sidenote: I wonder how many Donnie Darko fans tune in to American Idol every week. This is where I think he's great. But he realizes that the crowd of people who dig that is much smaller than the crowd of people who love it when it wags his tongue, screams Aerosmith, and dances down giant stage stairs in neon pant suits. I have always thought Adam was a great performer, but I would never buy one of his albums. Shouldn't that play a factor? Apparently the show can't sail along on great vocals - there has to be excessive performance elements as well. Kris gets hammered week after week for not having enough energy on stage, but his emotion is so much more evident than anyone else's. As for musical ability - Kris has played three different instruments while singing, while Adam sticks to fashion accessories.



Which leaves Kris. Kris, from what I can tell, is our contemporary folk pop representative. Many a 20 something have tried and failed to win America's votes in this genre (most notably Megan Joy, who cites Bjork as her favorite female vocalist). All season long, the judges kept her around because she was so contemporary, but they take every possible opportunity to slam Kris' choices or give him lukewarm reviews. What? He has always been the most marketable contestant on the show and yet - gets no love from the four in charge.



It seems to me that the kinds of people who would dig Kris' music.... aren't watching American Idol. I had given up on the show for the past few years, and only started watching again this season because Margo was auditioning. Of course, once you start, it's hard to stop, especially since Margo and Anoop tried out in the same episode. But this is what worries me. If Kris is the contemporary choice, at least musically, but no contemporary music lovers are watching Idol - then should the show continue at all? If Adam didn't wear flamboyant white suits, eyeliner and scream at high decibels - would he be considered the amazing, hidden talent that is worth such excessive judge favoritism? And in the end, shouldn't the winner be my favorite, and not America's?

I think so.

Saturday, May 9, 2009

An ER update

This is my only weekend at home for the month of May, and I am spending it in the least productive mode possible. I originally had big plans to clean and organize the house in time for
Steven's graduation guests next weekend. But then on Wednesday, I overloaded the washer, which forced Steven to move the mouse trap to the middle of the floor, and when we went to move it back after dinner, we were greeted by a long straight tail sticking out the back. Yuck and ick. I am using the untimely death of our mouse friend to justify staying in bed and watching the good doctors at County General do their thang all weekend. It has, thus far, been lovely.

Since the finale I have made it through four complete seasons of the show, averaging around a season a week. At Digital Shelf, you can rent a full season for 4 bucks. Ka-ching! Though, for some reason, Season 3 is in high demand, could not be rented, and cost 50 bucks at Best Buy. Grrr. Even on Amazon, where they sell the complete seasons for 20 bucks each, Season 3 was still 40. What gives? I didn't think it was singularly spectacular. But I now own it, so if you are going through a similar ER fixation, let me know.

What I have discovered in these weeks of intense research and memory searching is that everything I remembered about the show - is wrong. Kerry did not sing a Green Day song at Jeannie's funeral. Jeannie sang a Green Day song at Scott Anspaugh's funeral. Dr. Carter was not in charge, he wasn't even an ER intern until the third season! And the episode with the novel that I had such affectionate feelings for - wasn't even an important plot point. Instead, that is the episode where Mark gets beat up in the bathroom. I don't know what kind of weird denial centered suppression is going on in my brain but it has clearly been hard at work my entire life. It's like having a very specific, not very useful amnesia. Perhaps my brain is constantly in shock - that it can never handle bad news. I was always kind of a somber kid, especially in school, so I remember fearing terrible things happening. But apparently, when they actually do, my brain is ill-equipped to confront it. I just keep taking side doors.

Now I am well in to season 5 - and wondering when the heck Doug is finally leaving - trying desperately to remember if Kellie Martin was in "Life Goes On" or "Picket Fences". Or was it both? These are the important questions that must be answered. Also, I do love a good Romano villain. And what is Lizzie doing dating Benton? Surely she ends up with Mark? It's a nice little world they've created for us, and I am happy to indulge myself completely.

Steven and I watched the latest episode of Grey's Anatomy on Thursday, and Steven commented that it was weird to see other people in scrubs. It's true. It was also strange to hear George say "hook that blood up to the rapid infuser" because it is so not that kind of show. I love that just because George moves quickly and is good at saying things fast, that means he would be an excellent trauma surgeon. What? And why do they refer to the ER as "the pit?" It's hard to go back and forth, because Grey's pales in comparison as a medical drama. I rarely cry at ER - strange - but Grey's always gets me. Is it because it's new? Am I more invested in the characters? It might just be that too many people die on ER to get really emotional. On Grey's, if someone dies, it's a full-length episode event. Also, I felt really bad for George on the last episode of Grey's, because they did these little quick takes during the wedding scene, and showed all of the other characters happily paired off. Even the interns were in pairs! I still think that TR Knight refused his relationship plotline with Lexie and that's why he's getting no love this season. If so, what an obvious ouch. His departure at the end of this season will not be as dramatic or memorable as Clooney's - but I don't think Grey's has the stamina to last more than a couple more seasons anyway.

In other news, today marks 18 months for the Steven and Susan success story. We celebrated by being extra nice to each other and eating a late lunch at La Fiesta. It is sad that they have finally killed El Cazador, but at least it has forced me to admit that Fiesta is an acceptable substitute. Tomorrow is picnic and tennis.... if we can pry ourselves away from the incessant medical drama.

Tuesday, May 5, 2009

My skin is thin

It really upsets me when people anonymously post mean comments to Steven's Collegian articles. What am I going to do if he gets a bad book review? It's hard enough to get continually rejected from tiny lit mags, but at least then you just get a form letter. It doesn't tell you specifically why and how you're not good enough.

I am not a fan of criticism.

I am a fan of dispensing it, constructively of course, but I don't like coming across a public criticism by an anonymous fellow.

It just seems rude. Steven doesn't get to be anonymous. But his detractors do? There are some things that bother me about the internet, and lack of responsibility for opinions is a big one.

*le sigh*

In unrelated news, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button is out on DVD today. You should rent it and cry your eyes out. But first, read the short story. And keep your negative comments to yourself.

Monday, May 4, 2009

I like to run. Running is fun. I want to have fun. I want to run.

This is my new mantra. Steven and I have been trying to jog/walk for an hour every night after work. It helps us not eat potato chips, watch TV and ignore each other. This way, we can't eat potato chips (for that hour anyway), there's no TV and we have to talk to each other. It's working out. I'm still waiting for the endorphines to kick in, and I'm pretty sure Steven is too. I know that a sedentary lifestyle leads to increased crankiness, but I seem to generate a fair amount of crankiness while exercising as well. Thus, the mantra.

Tonight, for the first time in a couple of weeks, I went running by myself. Anyone who has known me for a fair amount of time, knows that I never really learned how to run. Simply put, I run funny. I'm slow, I'm awkward, it's uncomfortable to watch. I played softball for at least 12 years of my life, and Mom still cringed every time I ran to first. It's a definite unsolvable problem. Anyway, when I run with Steven, it doesn't really matter. He sets the pace, we go slow enough so that we can still carry on a conversation, and I don't look as barbaric when there's a normal person there beside me. Also, he tends to run in funny clothes, so they notice that rather than my form. I, of course, have the appropriate gear, but all the wrong natural elements. Today, I had my fitness fashion, I had my Sansa and my authentic IPOD earbuds, and I was ready to go. I was even listening to music instead of a book on tape. A regular jogger in the park. Except, from the moment I started, I had zero control of my limbs. I simply could not remember how to do it on my own. My feet kept hitting flat, I would run too fast and then too slow, I couldn't catch my breath but then as soon as I stopped to walk I could breathe normally, my arms were flailing all over the place and I kept catching my toe on the ankle of my other foot. I have no idea how. I was, of course, completely paranoid that every passing car with the window rolled down was enjoying the view of my newfound amnesia. Without Steven by my side, I had no idea what to do. It should be the most natural thing in the world. First walk, then run. Easy peasy. Nothing to it. Could. not. get. it. By the time I had hit the 40 minute mark, I started to relax. I have no idea if my form improved, but at least my body had found homeostasis with its new pattern of movement.

The point is this: there are several wonderful things about having Steven in my life. He takes me to work in the morning. He makes me fried eggs so that I don't burn my lip while eating dinner. He takes the rent check to Connie so that I don't have to make small talk. He does a million tiny things every day. And now, he has even found a cure for my longest running ailment. Without Steven, I'm just a weird girl in a park. With him, I'm part of an elite team, a group of people who "run for fun." He is the real evolution.

***

Steven and I went to Omaha this weekend for the 2009 Berkshire Hathaway Annual Meeting. It was our first meeting, and I was not prepared. There were 35,000 people and we were running on 4 hours of sleep. I was cranky. He was cranky. Warren and Charlie were not cranky, and if I had not just written Dad a 5 page email about the events, I would recount them for you here. But, I am lazy, and Steven writes for money, so instead I'll just insert the link to his perspective of the events, found in today's Collegian.

The one thing you definitely need to know about the experience is that you should go. If ever you get the chance (and everyone reading this blog will, as you are probably within the Alsop circle of opportunity) you should go. This was my first 8 hour meeting about investing, and while some of it sailed right over my ignorant head, most of it has lodged itself squarely in my brain. Warren and Charlie are fascinating men, and it is the only time that 35,000 people will assemble in a sports arena to hear two 78 year olds speak about life and money. Plus you can buy coke in a can for 2 bucks each. Totally the Capitalist Woodstock.