Tag Archive: tv

WARNING: girly post

Slacker!  Not you, me.  I just haven’t been feeling up to it lately; something strange is going on in my psyche that just makes things, life in general, seem completely impossible.  It’s some sort of downward spiral, I think.  The more lazy I get, the more bored I become, which in turn makes me want to be lazy, which only leads to more boredom, and so it goes. 

So today, I decided to spice things up: I am wearing a dress.  Not that this in itself is unusual; I have a closet full of dresses.  But I’ve been in a phase lately where I just don’t feel up to dressing up.  The more casual I can get, the better.  I’ve found sneaky ways of dressing down for work, bringing corduroy pants and colored khakis into the mix, throwing in some tank tops with cute little cardigans to make them more appropriate.  But all the dressing down, while being excellent for the lazy-and-comfortable factor, has made me feel like a giant frump, and therein lies a great source of internal conflict.  

It hit me yesterday when I was watching Gunsmoke.  (Does that sound silly? It does. And it is. But it’s true.)  First off, let it be known that Miss Kitty is a badass and I want to be like her when I grow up.  Minus the saloon girls.  Maybe.  But definitely including the big fake beauty mark, cuz that’s awesome in a sort of creepy way.  One time she had one shaped like a star.  I could totally rock that.

Anyways, she brought up the point that every woman needs to feel like a woman sometimes.  I’m sure that means different things to different people, and I don’t think anyone else should be able to tell you what that means for you.  As for me, I have no idea what it means.  I’m still trying to work that out.  All I know is that I don’t, and I think that’s part of what has been subconsciously bugging me the last few weeks.  I’m really just down on my drab boring self.  I feel like some sort of frumpy asexual cartoon child.  I am a live-action Peppermint Patty.  And the worst part is that I don’t know what to do about it. 

The grey dress is the first step.  Testing the waters, so to speak, trying to get back into that phase where I actually put some effort into myself.  It would be easy and convenient to blame my lack of effort on being married and the idea that I’m no longer trying to attract someone, but I just can’t make myself believe that.  It would also be convenient, though not as easy on the soul, to blame it on past experiences and old mindsets that I just can’t shake completely.  For now, I will try not to worry about whose fault it is that I feel this way and simply concentrate on fixing it.  Today, it’s a dress.  Next week, haircut.  And we’ll go from there. 

Wish me luck.

Ski jumping looks like a truly terrifying endeavor.  It combines a few of my ultimate fears, like skiing and falling from high places.  I would not make a good ski jumper.  One of our little American guys totally just botched his landing.  Like fell on his ass.  But I find it really rather impressive that even when these guys bust ass, they just pop right up and go on down the hill.  Last time I went skiing, I ended up sliding down the mountain on my butt.  No popping for me. 

But enough Olympic commentary.  I was totally blindsided by a different type of gym douchebaggery this evening; I’m not sure why I never thought of it before, but there are lady douchebags out there too!  And I saw many of them tonight, all with this one horrible habit: they don’t know how to use the machines.  I don’t know if they can’t read the instructions or are just completely self-absorbed and hopefully deaf.  That loud banging noise that happens when the weights slam together?  That’s not good!  It’s not supposed to do that!  See how no one around you is doing it like that?  I find it’s worst on the torso rotator (or as I prefer to see it, the ultimate back popping machine), where despite explicit instructions printed right at eye level, they somehow don’t comprehend that you’re supposed to do it one way and then the other, not all the way around all at once.  And it would be one thing if it was an old person, or someone who looks like they haven’t stepped in a gym in thirty years.  But it’s always a 95 lb teenage girl who looks like she’s spent 30 hours a week in a gym.  Or throwing up after meals.

Speaking of too skinny for her own good, ice dancing is on!  Skating is just something I could never get into.  I have mad respect for the folks that can do it, and well at that.  And this pair is skating to a Linkin Park song?  What?!?  Yeah, I liked it a lot better with the sound off.  MUTE.  Sorry.  And why on earth is this guy dressed like a clock?  My guess: preparing for his future career as Cogsworth for next year’s Disney on Ice. 

For a second there, I wanted to think that someone should put together a badass Metal On Ice show.  Like with Motorhead and ACDC.  But there’s nothing metal about ice dancing.  Hockey, maybe.  Dancing?  Not so much.  Winter Olympics needs more full-contact sports.  Less figure skating, more Rollerball.  Let’s see some blood splatters on those sequins! 

And that’s why I’ve never been chosen for an olympic committee.

And that’s why I wear one.

What about me?  What if I fall and can’t get up?  Where’s my life-saving non-senior-marketed product?

And what’s this KBVO channel playing Atlantis?  New Atlantis!  Woolsey Atlantis!  

That’s one thing I did like about Stargate Atlantis: the crossovers.  They got Sam, then they got Woolsey.  It made things feel more connected.  Don’t take that to mean I’m not enjoying Universe, because I am, and I’m surely not going to write it off before the first season is over.  Especially after that ending, boy howdy!  That one left both Mick and I speechless.  And I guess it’s hard to pull in familiar faces when you’re effectively cut off from everyone (and when that’s pretty much the premise for the show).  I was just thinking back on when they first made the Woolsey announcement, and the fun conversation that followed between me and Mick and my mother.  It’s weird when you begin to talk about tv people like they’re real people.  That’s probably not healthy, is it.  But it was fun.  I knew he’d be good, I’ve always kind of liked him.  Maybe “like” is too strong of a word…yes, he’s a dick a lot of the time, but all those times he was just following orders and when he was wrong he admitted it and sincerely seemed like he was trying to do better.  He always had good intentions.  He was complex.  And I think that’s why he ended up being a pretty good commander.  A stickler at first, but in the end I think he found his place.  He was never really a bad guy.  Not like that Kinsey fellow.  Ooooh how I loathe him. 

TV people are different than real people.  I know.  But to be fair, Ronny Cox makes an excellent bad guy all around.  Total Recall?  Total ass there too.  You know who I did like?  Maybourne.  He was an ass, but at least he was fun.  He saved Season 8 for me almost single-handedly; the first four episodes were awesome, then they went into that whole thing with The Trust and Teal’c living on his own and it just lost me.  Even RepliCarter and Vala weren’t gonna do it.  It took Harry Maybourne and fucking Wayne Brady to pull things back together.  And it was rock and roll from there.  (Although following that up with the beginning of Season 9, which lost me again.  Good thing there was Ba’al.  Ba’al makes everything better.) 

Boy did Cliff Simon get some great outfits in that series!

Well I hadn’t intended this to be a Stargate-related post, but I guess that’s as good as anything else I had to say tonight.  I spent another day doing nothing but laundry, tv, and knitting.  No westerns today though, we settled for Empire Records and Predator.  I also watched a bit of women’s speed skating.  Is that two words?  Speedskating looks funny.  The word, not the sport.  I guess.  I also turned my phone off before dinner, so if you’ve been trying to get a hold of me, I’m sorry.  I’m just enjoying the quiet. 

Or being antisocial.  It’s Sunday, I’m allowed.

The Dancing Never Ends!

I just drove my husband out of the living room.

Not on purpose, mind you.  We each sat down to do a bit of writing, and were simply reminded that we don’t work the same.  It’s not a bad thing; if anything, it’s probably a good thing most times.  I have an issue where I have to have complete silence when I write.  I can sometimes work with the tv on mute, but most times I’ll turn it off completely.  Mick, on the other hand, has to have noise when he writes.  A show or some music or something going on in the background.  Helps him get into the right frame of mind.  I guess I’m just more easily distracted.

Well I wrapped up the last of my birthday celebrations yesterday after going out to dinner with my dad and Spud.  I’ll say now that this has been a pretty geeky birthday, as far as gifts go.  Which is awesome, mind you.  I bought a ton of yarn with the gift certificate my brother gave me.  Mick got me an AMAZING owl mask from the one and only Miss Monster, AND as if that wasn’t enough, the first volume of Absolute Sandman!  If you haven’t seen these things, well then you must not be a Sandman fan.  And if you’re not a Sandman fan, well, I don’t know if we can be friends.  There’s a couple volumes out that encompass the whole of the original series, plus all sorts of sketches, outtakes (for lack of a better word), unfinished frames, lots of neat little extras.  It’s a beautiful leather-bound book too, no paperback here.  And, knowing how much those suckers cost, I am very appreciative of it! 

On top of that, my parents managed to shock me with their gift: An Anthology of Beowulf Criticism!  I’m sure to most of you that sounds like the most boring thing you could possibly recieve, but dammit I think it’s awesome.  You may have read earlier about my studying Old English, and of course you can’t go through Old English without reading some Beowulf.  Or you could do like me and take an entire semester-long graduate class doing nothing but translating Beowulf.  So for me, this book is effin sweet.  A lot of the pieces in here I’ve read before but haven’t owned copies of.  And it’s got all of the essentials: Blackburn, Tolkien, Kemp Malone, Herbert Wright, Margaret Goldsmith, plus more, eighteen in all.  I look forward to settling down to read them soon.  Because occasionally I feel the need to be all high-falutin and edumacated and stuff.     

On an unrelated note, this kid in a 1956 western is totally doing some sort of insane breakdancing at a hoedown.  I have no idea what’s going on in this movie.

It’s a lot trippier if you watch it with the sound off.  “This kid”, btw, is Russ Tamblyn.  Fuckin Dr. Jacoby!  Dancing his ass off!

Anywho, so that was the end of my very pleasant Birthday 2k10.  And for all that celebrating, I didn’t have a single piece of cake.  How wrong is that?  Very wrong, I say.  Funny how silly little things end up being more important to you than you realize, or want to admit.  Well, aside from having no cake, it was a very pleasant birthday. 

Now that the birthday festivities have ended, it’s back to insane needlework.  I keep meaning to find out when the actual show is, but remember that “easily distracted” thing I was talking about earlier?  Yeah.  More of that.  Market bags are coming, plus the odd tea cozy thrown in here and there because they’re quick and don’t require thinking.  I’ve found a couple new patterns to use with my new yarns that should prove quite awesome. (did you see that bright yellow yarn in the picture?  that’s going to be an amazing lace shawl.)

I’m also trekking along through Dune (still), and still really loving it.  I’ve passed into Part III now, so I’m getting close to the end.  It doesn’t feel like it’s about to end, it feels like there’s so much left to cover.  I’m guessing that means this last 1/3 will go at breakneck speed.  After that, we’ll see how I feel about getting into the next one in the series.  In fact, I’m gonna go do that now.  I’ll see you suckers later!

I have this Sunday morning ritual of waking up entirely too early.  I can’t help it, 8:30 rolls around, I’m awake.  Of course Mick would sleep the afternoon away if I let him, so I’m left to entertain myself for a little while until either I make enough noise to get him up or I see fit to go in and snuggle him and entice him with promises of breakfast.  Most of the time, however, I come to the living room and quietly watch my DVRd show from the night before: As Time Goes By.  It’s an older British show, rerun on PBS, about a couple of old lovers who are reunited after 30 years apart.  And they fall in love again and they get married, and it’s positively the most adorable thing ever.  Plus the old lovers are played by Judy Dench and Geoffrey Palmer, so it’s very well done. 

I was trying to go somewhere with that little diatribe, aside from telling you about a charming show that makes your heart happy.  It was going to be something pretty sappy and sentimental, but I’m not sure exactly what it was anymore.  Maybe just this: I love my husband.  And I’m not just saying that because it’s Valentine’s Day.  He’s awesome all year round.  He made a good point on his blog yesterday: we do Valentine’s Day type things all the time, not just when there’s a holiday for it.  And I love that.  He wanted, in particular, for me to tell you about our fun yesterday. 

I won’t bore you with every detail, but after an afternoon at work on a Saturday, we took off to Torchy’s for some excellent tacos.  After major grubbage, we were trying to think of something to do, and I remembered that Mick had never been to Mount Bonnell.  After ten years in Austin!  I know, right?!  So we went. 

mick climbs

 We just happened to time it perfectly so that we arrived at sunset.  Which, of course meant it was a little crowded, but it was alright.  Made for some nice pictures.

And there’s more.  You can see them all over on my flickr page. (see the link over there on the right?  click it!)  There’s also a bunch of pictures of the stuff we did today, which I will tell you about tomorrow because I’m really effin tired now. Oh, did I mention we also went over to Mozart’s for coffee and cheesecake? Mmmmm. Well, technically I had key lime pie, which is one of the best things ever. 

And, as a birthday present to myself, I took the day off of work tomorrow!  So you’ll get to hear about our Valentine’s/Birthday excitement instead of me bitching about Monday’s at work. 

And for no reason except that I was just reminded of it, here’s a song with tap dancing:

Kisses kiddos!

Secret South American

Good morning lovely people.  Remember the other day, when I said I had so much to do and I was all excited about some new patterns I had?  Well, I spent all night trying to get one of them to work with absolutely no success.  I must have been doing something incredibly wrong, and almost broke my fingers trying to make it work.  Which saddens me, because it was an amazingly awesome project that I’d love to own for myself.  So after four hours or so of cursing and pain, I said screw it.  Rem0ved from the queue.  Arg. 

But I made up for it last night, taking on the next project in line with rousing success.  It’s a cute little market bag that I can whip up quick out of sturdy cotton.  I’ll be churning out a few of these in the next week; my goal is four, since that’s how much yarn I bought.  Makes sense, eh?  So I started that last night while watching the opening ceremony of the winter olympics.  I’m not an Olympics person, I hardly ever watch any events or get even remotely interested.  But it was Friday, I was home by myself, and there wasn’t a damn thing on tv.  And it wasn’t bad, I stuck around long enough to see the Aboriginal tributes, and the march of all the different countries and their athletes.  There’s a lot of frickin Americans there, I’ll say that.  More than anyone else, in fact.  Which, to me, seems unfair when they talk about medal counts and how many their aiming to win.  It seems a lot easier for 216 Americans to win 40 medals than for 65 Russians to do it.  Just saying.  This year I’ve decided to cheer for the South Americans, because apparently no South American country has ever gotten a medal in the Winter Olympics.  I’m not anti-American or anything, I just like to root for the underdog sometimes.  Go Chile!  Knock em dead, Brazil! 

Well, I haven’t had my coffee yet and I’m hoping to finish up this bag today, so I better get back to it.  Y’all take care, you’ll hear from me again soon.

It’s a crazy world!

Thanks to Syfy for knowing that I really needed some Stargate today.  Much like Mick, I’m feeling some pretty high-level work-related stress, and for some reason it all just manifested and smacked me in the face around 2:00 this afternoon.  No reason, just POW!  But a little SG1 almost always makes me feel slightly better.  It’s a comfort thing. 

Or maybe an escape thing.  I was only a couple weeks out of rehab when my mom loaned me the first season on DVD.  6 months later I’d seen every episode of all ten seasons.  For me, all that time spent in front of the TV was time spent not thinking about how bad I wanted to pound shots until I was unconscious.  I also didn’t have a driver’s license and was living with my parents outside of Georgetown, so I didn’t have a lot going on at the time.  And as silly as it sounds, it gave me some hope of a world far more interesting and exciting than the one I was living in. 

Now, while I enjoy a little not-so-guilty pleasure, I’m burning a bit of Dragon’s Blood incense.  It’s quickly becoming one of my favorites.  It’s got great texture, melts down to a puddle quickly but burns off easily.  Unlike some I’ve tried, it doesn’t stay goo and burn to a crisp, leaving an unpleasant charred smell.  A little bit does go a long way, so you don’t have to hover over it, which is nice.

I’m also enjoying a cup of a new Oolong tea I picked up.  It’s a 2009 Four Seasons Oolong, from my favorite little tea shop The Steeping Room.  This tea is fabulous, I am a huge fan.  Compared to most of the teas I’ve been enjoying, it’s incredibly light in flavor and texture.  The taste is fresh and bright, and it feels like velvet rolling over your tongue.  A quick bio: Four Seasons Oolong was developed in the 1980s in the Nantou region of Taiwan.  The name Four Seasons comes from the practice of picking four to six flushes a year, considerably more than most teas.  The tea is only about 30% oxidized, and after drying and baking, it is rolled into tiny balls by hand.  The labor-intensive process and attention to detail give this tea an impressive first impression and a lasting appeal, especially when you’re looking for a lighter, airier tea. 

Is airier a word?  Spell-check likes it, so do I.     

Speaking of, I’m thinking of going and taking a spelling and typing test next Monday while I’m off work.  It seems to be something a lot of employers are looking for, and it’s a requirement to get any sort of clerical position at UT.  But of course they’re only open weekdays 8-4, so I’ve never had a chance to go before.  Assuming they’re open, since it’s President’s Day and all.  Wouldn’t that be just my luck?

Well, I should have Mick walking in the door any minute now, which means dinner will be needed in the near future.  I’m gonna hop to it.  Be good, kiddos!

The world is just awesome.

When all else fails…Discovery Channel. 

Was that in my blog of awesome things way back when?  If not, it totally should have been.  This is reality TV I can get behind. 

I probably should have stuck with my childhood dream and become a scientist.  Technically I always wanted to be a marine biologist, ever since I was tiny tiny.  I remember taking a Jaques Cousteau book to preschool for show-and-tell.  I think I wore out three copies of 20,000 Leagues Under The Sea before I was eight.  Unfortunately, I lacked the discipline in my teens to do much of anything that would have allowed me to pursue a scientific career.  Instead I went in the Liberal Arts direction, got my English degree.  And now I’m in a low-paying, mind-numbing, dead-end job, trying to compete in the entertainment industry that I abhor and writing a silly little blog every day.  Don’t get me wrong, it’s not all bad, and the choices I’ve made have gotten me all of the amazing things I do have in my life now.  But part of me would kill to be working out at the McDonald Observatory, bringing amazing new discoveries to the world.  Or operating a deep sea submersible, cataloging new species of crazy looking fish.

(By the way, Bear Grylls totally just ate a giant fucking worm that he found in a log.  Ugh.)

Well the point of that whole little rant, I guess, is to say that I love science.  I love learning about the world around me, what it’s made of, how things work and why they work the way they do.  And I don’t get to do enough of that, enough discovering.  I have so many questions, all the time.  Like if you’re forced to eat a bug, is it better to eat it alive or kill it first?  Or, what other things could I possibly eat before having to resort to eating a bug?

I guess maybe that’s my calling in life: to find things out and write them down.  The little academic voice in the back of my head is saying “throughout history, scribes have been very important, revered members of society.  Without written history and a record of discoveries…” blah blah blah.  Yeah, okay, you’ve made your point.  I don’t know, maybe I just don’t feel like being a writer tonight. 

Instead, I’m going to be a bather and a reader.  We’ll see if a bit of quality fiction doesn’t make me feel better.

And good afternoon to you!  I figure I need to do today’s writing now, since I won’t get another chance until 10 or so tonight.  10:00, however, is my official Simpsons-and-bed time, and I get unreasonably cranky if I don’t get my evening rituals done.  Less so if it’s my own fault or if it’s for a good reason, but if it’s the fault of Major League Baseball or a 4-hour American Idol finale, GOD HELP YOU.  Luckily I have the most wonderful husband who is now accustomed to my eccentricities and is willing to work around them.  Did I mention he used to work in public mental health?  Probably comes in handy when you’re married to a crazy person

I am a loud man with a very large hat.  This means I am in charge.

Was that random?  Sorry.  My train of thought goes places sometimes and I forget that I left a whole crowd of people back on the platform 4 stops ago.  I bet if you clicked that link up there you would have been with me.  See what happens when you don’t click links?  Somewhere a bully kicks a puppy, and you miss all the fun jokes. 

Well, since the most exciting part of my day is yet to come, I don’t really have a lot for you at the moment.  Everything seems to pale in comparison to the glory that is ridiculous Japanese TV.  If you haven’t read Mick’s latest posts, you should go do that.  Or some of the Sundance blogs, I’m sure they have things to say. (Is it wrong that I just don’t really care about Sundance this year?  I’m having difficulty getting excited about movies lately, aside from insane animation and Werner Herzog.)  Tomorrow I will regale you with tales of oriental awesomeness and most likely steak fingers.

Everybody Panic!

Howdy y’all!

Sorry, forgive my Texas twang there.  The movie Reign of Fire is on the tv right now…maybe it’s just me, but Matthew McConaughey doesn’t make a very convincing post-apocalyptic dragon slayer.  And he kind of looks like  an evil Jamie Hyneman.

that looks like one badass myth!

(Honestly, if there really were evil dragons bringing about the apocalypse, I’d bet that Jamie could find a way to bring them down.  With Adam’s help, of course.  Science FTW!)

I’m not actually watching the movie, it just happened to be what the tv turned on to, but I did go out and see a movie today.  Finally, Mick and I got to see A Town Called Panic!  We missed it at FantasticFest because it was up against something else that we really wanted to see, and luckily Tim brought it back to the Alamo Drafthouse for a good run of its own.  And I will say this: it might be the most fun movie I’ve seen in 2010.  It’s a perfect Sunday afternoon matinee, especially when paired with creme brulee french toast.  It’s frantic and funny and clever and cute and downright laughable.  And while it is mostly appropriate for kids (there were quite a few in the audience today), it’s not your typical Disney/Dreamworks/Nickelodeon-type kids movie.  There’s not much in the way of character development, and there’s no big moral lesson to be learned…unless you count “don’t steal other people’s walls”.  Oh, and it’s all in French.  I love it, I had a blast through the whole thing, laughed my ass off too.  So go out and find this film, it’s guaranteed not to disappoint.  I’m confident. 

Besides that and a horrendous late-afternoon trip to the grocery store, it’s been a slow day.  Mick was sort of in the dumps, so I grilled up some ribeyes for dinner and threw together a delicious Red White and Blue cake.  It’s one of those white-trash-patriotic-holiday-bbq desserts that is actually damn delicious.  Hey, even someone with a wide range of culinary expertise can do things the trashy way sometimes!  I’ll even tell you how to make it too!

  • Get some angel food cake (store-bought, homemade, Betty Crocker, it doesn’t matter much); cut the cake into bite-size squares
  • Get a big bowl or 9×13 pan and line the bottom with the cake
  • Cut up some strawberries and sprinkle them generously on top of the cake; add some blueberries too
  • Cover the whole thing with Cool Whip
  • If you’re using a big bowl, you can layer it like a parfait.

See, super simple and quick, and really tasty.  And low fat! (not low-cal or low-sugar, but hey, we can’t win ‘em all.)  Plus it will stay good in the fridge for like a week.  I plan on having some here in a little bit while Mick and I watch some cartoons. 

We’ve recorded quite a few episodes of a new TV show, Archer; from what I can tell, it’s a James Bond sort of story, except done by the guys responsible for Frisky Dingo and starring H. John Benjamin.  **ASIDE: Ok, someone tell me why when I google H John Benjamin, the first image that comes up is a picture of Ben Browder?  Anybody?**  Both of those things make it highly promising in my book, so I’m interested to see what it’s all about.  I’ll let you know how it goes. 

On the agenda tomorrow, we’re going to hit up the 2010 edition of SUPER HAPPY FUN MONKEY BASH!  This is one of my favorite Alamo Drafthouse events of the whole year.  It’s basically just 90 minutes of the strangest, most hilarious Japanese TV clips available.  Brilliant, weird, wonderful stuff.  Gems like a huge fat chick wrestling a tiny geeky dude in a ring filled with spaghetti.  Or broadcast news presented by a chimp and a camel.  Or a famous actor having his house completely trashed by a group of friends with creme pies.  Not to mention a handful of the brilliantly ludicrous commercials starring big-name American actors. 

(Ok, I just got sucked into this crappy movie for a second…the dragons drool?  That strikes me as odd.  Dragons shouldn’t drool.  I don’t know why, they just shouldn’t.)

Anywho, I’m gonna get on with our Archer marathon before it gets late and I get tired.  Enjoy the rest of your Sunday!

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