things my dad had written down on a piece of paper to buy for me to eat while i was here:
Filed under Rachel
modes of communication utilized between my housemates and i within the physical space of our house:
Filed under Rachel
Filed under Heather
Because I guess I should really get to doing this thing.
Danny Pudi. I love Abed on Community. Need I say more? Also, Danny Pudi and Donald Glover together.
Thor was surprisingly good! It passes the Bechdel test and there’s no objectification of women in the film, only of Thor himself. I know, I thought it was kind of weird (but awesome) too. Plus, villain Loki gets some psychological depth and is played by a dude (Tom Hiddleston) who looks just like Johnny Weir. This movie was designed for me. The Jotun kind of sucked, though, seeing as they resemble a hybrid race of Smurf Uruk-hai. Ah, well. The LOTR pretty much made it certain that any evildoing hordes in a movie from now on would look like orcs.
Serbia FTW. How did Nina not win Eurovision this year with “Caroban”? I mean, come on. Greece did better?? Really?
Burlesque. I went to a beginner’s workshop two weeks ago and really enjoyed it! The other day I found out that the same troupe who ran the workshop is holding an amateur competition in July, too, so I… er… signed up before I could chicken out of it. Yeah. So if any of you are interested in seeing me perform striptease in public, you are welcome to come support me! Winner’s determined half by the judges and half by the audience’s enthusiasm.
Filed under Heather
This “wine glass” was probably the worst thing to happen to me all weekend. And it was on a Friday. Fuck you too, internet.
Also, this thing about Osama bin Laden. I thought I was emotionally ready to read about his death, and I was, but I wasn’t ready for the Facebook references aggressively peppered throughout? What is wrong with me? Or, alternatively, the world?
Benedict Cumberbatch’s face. Do I hate it, or does it just make me deeply uncomfortable? I am not willing to do the soul-searching required to find out.
The Flashman books. My dad gave me one of these to read when I was like twelve and told me it was funny, and it is mostly about this douche who does a shitty job fighting in wars and then rapes people and cheats on other people? From what I remember? Anyways, I hated it.
Jedward. I would explain why in further detail but whenever I think about them I start shaking uncontrollably and crying forever and I just can’t. So, no. Okay?
I am out of chickpeas. I literally actually never thought this could happen. Send help. Just kidding! Send chickpeas.
Every single time I talk with my mom on the phone I end up hanging up with my cheek accidentally. Seriously every time. But only with her. Also at this point my mom is like 40% of my social life, so this is a problem. Here is what she gchatted to me tonight: “ok……i’m making tea. call you in a few. remember to keep your cheeks away from the touch screen!” How is this my life?
This isn’t something I hate but it is about Hoarders. If we’re being honest here, distinguishing “hate” from “all other emotions” is not my forte.
Filed under Rachel
Not giving a fuck what people think. New life goal, cats and kittens. But let me know if I go too far and turn into a total asshole, okay?
Risotto. I will learn to make this. And I’ll have a dinner party at which it’s served, possibly nestling some salmon or chickpeas in a fancy sauce, and everyone will tell me it tastes delicious even if it doesn’t. And then, bridge! Or something along those lines. The men can drink brandy and the women can too, because this is the twenty-first-century and gendering food or drinks is dumb. Alternatively, we can skip the brandy (as it tastes like licorice, I’ve been told) and drink whiskey with grapefruit, with sugar on the rims of our glasses.
The Feast of Love, Charles Baxter. I bought this novel in a secondhand bookstore because Charles Baxter is supposed to be good and the title, while cheesy, sounded like something I would enjoy. Spoiler alert: it was! Way more than I expected! The story began wonderfully meta and went in places I didn’t really see coming. Has some magical realism too, though (whew) not in the Like Water for Chocolate, “eat food and get really, really turned on by it” way you might expect. (Sidenote: has anyone here seen or read Like Water for Chocolate? A teacher of mine screened the movie for our high school Spanish class. It was way awkward. Particularly the shower-on-fire-oh-now-she’s-abducted-naked-by-a-vaquero scene.)
Fitz and the Tantrums, “MoneyGrabber.” Heard this for the first time at the work party I threw last week. Fitz and the Tantrums remind me of the Scissor Sisters, another band I really ought to listen to more of. New life goal: give a fuck about the Scissor Sisters, and only the Scissor Sisters. Oh, and Fitz and the Tantrums. Oh, hell, let’s be real — I give a fuck about everything in this column. Obvs.
Lord Tubbington. Because how could I not??
The “Judas” video. OMFGBEIFYGQPTUWFVUTQFVJIWILLLEARNALLTHEMOVES. !!!!1!! ALL OF THE MOVES.
Burlesque. So I heard about/ventured to an introductory workshop on the art of burlesque a few days ago, and suddenly I am watching videos of Miss Dirty Martini on YouTube and documentaries on the subject and checking out tuxedo underbust vests on Etsy. (Re: vest — good idea? Bad idea?) I came up with a stage name already, a character type, have started thinking of costuming… and I am still not particularly skilled at the performance part itself. I’ve gotten a little ahead of myself, I think. Picturing the spotlight before I have the stage, so on and so forth. But we have to think big before we can get anywhere, right? How can I become a sexy robot/librarian/luna moth without the intention?
Filed under Heather
