Five things I WILL NOT miss about marathon training, in no particular order:
Tonight, I'm not really in the mood for the movies Netflix has sent me. So my choices for TV viewing are between four stupid reality shows on network TV, four stupid reality shows on cable, and fifteen reruns of Law & Order on various cable stations.
Seriously.
OK, I might exaggerate a bit on the Law & Order reruns. Some of them are actually CSI reruns...
The best thing about working when you are supposed to be on PTO is that you can constantly say out loud, to no one in particular, "I'm not even supposed to BE HERE today!!"
Yeah, I will see the sequel. I fear it will be a lot of jokes I just don't understand because I'm not quite there yet, and I will wish it had never been made, and I will go home and watch the original just to reaffirm that there was a time when Kevin Smith was in the same mental space as me.
But yeah, I will see the sequel. And tomorrow, I am ON PTO. DAMMIT.
I need to read the book. But I hear this was pretty close. And apparently a fairly timeless story, sad as that sounds.
Five movies the latest, slowest, longest movie I have ever sat through blatantly stole from, in no particular order:
Today on the bus coming home from the BART coming home from the airport (spare the air!), I was sitting near a mom and her very cute smallish child (no older than 3). They were quietly playing "guess that sound" and one of the sounds she made was a "weeeeeawweeeeeawweeeeeaw" sound, which to the untrained ear sounded mostly like an ambulance or possibly a police siren.
When she asked him what made that sound, he promptly replied, "car alarm!"
I wasn't suprised when they got off the bus near my old neighborhood...
Nice little ditty about a girl and her brother. I can relate.
With my brother, it was allllll about the music. Kiss, or Run-DMC, or Led Zeppelin. I was forced to memorize many a song by all of these bands. Fortunately I have blacked out most of the Kiss songs. But I still love Zeppelin. And I have a very fond memory of being about ten years old, playing H-O-R-S-E in the backyard, and alternating the lyrics to King of Rock over, and over, and over, and over again. (He was Run, I was DMC.) To this day I still remember most of the words. Once in a while I find myself singing this song in my head during boring meetings. It's quite empowering - "You can't touch me with a ten foot pole and I even made the devil sell me his soul!" Try it sometime.
My brother is the reason why - to this day - I firmly believe that Kashmir is the greatest song ever written, why I listen to Black Sabbath now and then, why I own any concert t-shirts (my birthday or Christmas gifts from shows he went to and I didn't - bastard), why I went all old-school and saw Pearl Jam last Saturday (and it. fucking. ROCKED).
He's also the reason I can spell "beginning," why I have a fondness for Baby Ruth candy bars, and why seeing a pile of stuffed animals makes me want to hurl them across the room. But those are stories for another day.
Her Majesty spent most of today (when she wasn't whining for food) stretched out on the tile whining about the heat. WTFE, man. I'm off to miserably hot, humid L.A. for five days. Woo-hoo.
Kidding, it will be fun. There will be lots of painting and decorating and furniture-arranging and artwork-hanging and a trip to the San Diego Zoo. And of course lots of eating and consumption of good beer. And most importantly, catching up with an old friend.
In miserably hot, humid housing that probably does not have air conditioning.
Yarg.
Recent attempts to remind Her Majesty that she's already eaten her dinner even though - YES! I am in the kitchen again! and YES! chances are likely that I will be in the kitchen AGAIN in the near future! oh, what a crazy world this is, that it doesn't revolve around YOU! - include:
OK Connie, I'll bite. Subject to change with my mood of course. (For the record, I have never found James Lipton pretentious - he seems to always laugh - at himself, or with others - how can that be pretentious? Annoyingly organized and thorough, perhaps. But not pretentious.)
What is your favorite word?
"freedom"
What is your least favorite word?
"nu-cu-lar"
What turns you on creatively, spiritually, or emotionally?
anything that lets me dive in and lose myself in it, anything that makes me forget that the world around me exists
What turns you off?
people with no concern for anyone and/or the world around them
What is your favorite curse word?
fuck
What sound or noise do you love?
whole-hearted bone-shaking laughter, the kind that brings tears to your eyes and causes snorting and gasping for breath (particularly when it comes from someone under 5 years old)
What sound or noise do you hate?
dentist's drill
What profession other than your own would you like to attempt?
carpenter
What profession would you not like to do?
VP of anything
If heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the pearly gates?
"so you took the blue pill, eh?"
Five things you should be ashamed that you don't know, if you make it onto my new obsession (A.K.A. how to make all these years of couching pay off), in no particular order:
A wise man once said, "sometimes, you just gotta say fuck it." Myself, I say that all the time. (Does that make me wise too?!)
Today for example, I was going to:
Everything Is Illuminated ... another book in the long list of books that never should've been made into a movie. Brilliant acting, but the story was completely butchered in translation. (Do yourself a favor, read the book.)
The Outsiders re-release w/new score and commentary by some of the actors ... hear Rob Lowe whine about every single scene where he was supposed to have more lines! Hear everyone rag on what a competitive showoff asshole Tom Cruise was! (Unlike the aforementioned - what a great adaptation of book to movie. Timeless.)
The Dying Gaul ... it had me until about halfway through. Should've been left as a play.
... I just don't think I could date a guy named "Fred." No offense to anyone named Fred, of course. I feel the same way about the name "Boris."
The plot was stupid, on the surface. But it starred Laura Linney, Topher Grace, Gabriel Byrne and Marcia Gay Harden... so I had to check it out.
Have I mentioned that I heart Topher Grace? I mean, I loved him on That 70's Show - hell, I loved them all. Well, except for Wilmer. But while the other goofballs have chosen similarly goofball film characters, he hasn't. (Yeah, okay, he's only been in a few films. And yeah, the rest of the cast hasn't really broken out in the film arena. And yeah, okay, there was The Butterfly Effect - an attempt at seriousness, I suppose.)
But it's pretty obvious, as the E! documentary about the sitcom stated, that while others were honing their partying skills, he went home and... oh I dunno, looked for good roles. (Yeah, okay, so I didn't watch the whole documentary.)
Anyway. The plot was as stupid as it might sound. But the performances were fairly moving, especially the scenes between Linney and Grace. I can't honestly say that I don't recommend the film.
Have I mentioned that I heart Topher Grace?
I really need a hobby.
Damn you, Connie! Now you've got me doing it. It's like an addiction I can't shake, and I don't even know what the purpose is. As is true for most things in the World Wide Web.
