Pregnant People That I Don't Really Know

I've noticed in recent years that I always -- always -- know when someone is pregnant, even before they make it public. I don't mean celebrities or whatever, but like people in my life that I may or may not be really close to, or people whose blogs I follow. Because they think they're hiding it (there's the whole "Don't announce before 12 weeks" taboo we've got going on in our culture, because of the increasingly large percentage of early miscarriage in this country), and they're totally not, because they start to talk and act like pregnant women. Part of it is that they'll stop doing stuff they've always done, like drinking wine when everyone else is drinking wine, or staying up late on the scrapbooking retreat (hi, sister Stacey, hahahaha, I totally knew when you were pregnant, maybe even before you did!). And part of it is that they turn weirdly serene, and more introspective than they've ever been. Even the ones who are already really introspective -- they become even more so. It's so funny. And then I'll be sitting there in a room with them or reading their blog (Hello, dooce! Hello, She Just Walks Around With It!) and thinking, "She is talking like a pregnant woman. I bet she's totally knocked up."

And of course I am always correct, and three weeks later they're announcing it to everyone.

I'm so smart and in touch with the energy of those around me.

Anyway, congratulations to Heather at dooce and Kristy at She Just Walks Around With It. It's all very exciting and I'm unbelievably happy for you both... unbelievable because I don't really know you, but feel like I sort of do.

Wow. This post is dumber than I expected it to be. Oh well.

This is why I heart my friend Heather

Behold, the text of an email from my friend Heather:



From: Hughes, Heather

Sent: Tuesday, November 11, 2008 1:00 PM

To: Shannon McEwen

Subject: I am a complete tool....

I just went out into the cold with my big-red-dumb snowcoat on (the one that I refer to as my “sped” coat, because it seems that only a ‘tard would be caught wearing it). I saw a news team out on the 16th street mall, and I tried to avoid eye contact. I do not want to be interviewed in the sped coat. Well, the reporter asked me if I’d do a quick interview, and I thought, “sure, why not?”

So she asks me how much I would be willing to pay for tickets to Obama’s Inauguration.

“Uhmm $1,000?” I reply.

Dead Air. My eyes dart back and forth from the reporter (with a microphone shoved in my face) and the camera. Aaahh! Where am I supposed to look?

A few more seconds of dead air.

“Boy, that’s a lot of money for tickets.” She says.

And I reply, “yeah,”

Dead-dead-dead silence.

Then the camera guy says, “tell us why”

And I say, “well, I guess because I saw him at the convention and at the rally a couple of weeks ago, and I think he is a really good speaker,” (well mostly I stuttered through this part).

More dead air. I start to panic. Do I have to say something else?? Aaahh!

So the reporter says, “so do you plan on spending $1,000 for tickets?”

And I look directly into the camera and say, “no, cuz I don’t have a $1,000. But if I did, I would totally buy tickets” and I do this bizarre thing with my hands. Like, half thumbs up and half some bizarre hand signal I made up.

Then she has me spell my name in front of the camera, and I start to briskly walk away (because I feel like a complete and utter tool). She yells back, “you’ll be on at 5!” and I just looked back and mumbled, “uhkay”

But I realized I forgot to ask what station! Doh!

I did some research online, and I think it was Jane Slater that interviewed me. So maybe channel 7? Lol.

I've Got Nothing, So Let's Talk About VH-1!

I feel like all I do is rant all day and say wacky things to my coworkers, and have witty conversations on Facebook, and then I have nothing left for my blog. It's so depressing. Remember when I used to be funny? And kind of interesting?

Oh.

Well, last night began a new season of Celebrity Rehab With Dr. Drew on VH-1. I was addicted to that show last time, so naturally I tuned in. And I spent half the show in tears because some of the "celebrities" had such sad, sad stories. Like Steven Adler, the original drummer for Guns'n'Roses -- he started using drugs when he was only 11 years old, when his stepfather kicked him out of the house (actually, he made Steven's mom choose between him or Steven, and she chose the stepfather). 11 years old! With no home! 11 years old is only 4 years older than Daniel is right now. Daniel is a little kid. An 11 year old is a big kid, but still a kid. Not even out of elementary school. And this man just packed his stuff and dumped it on the sidewalk in front of the house for him to find when he got home from school.

And then there's this model on there named Amber Smith who looks really familiar and looks remarkably good considering she's been an addict for 16 years straight. Her mother got her hooked on drugs, and then told her she was being selfish for going to rehab to try and get better. Nice! Why are these people allowed to breed?? There's also Tawny Kitaen; a son of Rod Stewart; some girl who came in third the first season of American Idol; Jeff Conaway (back for more fun and hyjinks!); a very delusional Gary Busey; and Rodney King, of Rodney King beating fame. Also another tale that made me cry.

I dunno -- there are naysayers about this show, who say it just exploits these people for my entertainment, but I disagree. I think it helps them, and it can certainly help people watching. It's quite a cautionary tale. There's nothing glamorous about any of it.

Sad to say, the other shows I'm watching on VH-1 right now are The Pickup Artist 2, and Charm School: Rock of Love, starring my hero from season 2 of Rock of Love, Megan. Megan rules. One of the best lines on this show thus far was one of the contestants saying, "Don't be bitching about someone's fake boobs, we all have fake boobs in this house!" Dude, truer words have never been spoken. Anywhere. Charm School: Rock of Love is hilarious. I think it's supposed to be hilarious, which is good, because if it weren't, I would be frightened for the state of mind of the producers. The only person taking it seriously is the always-toolish Riki Rachtman, about the most irrelevant person in all of humankind. At one point in the second episode, he looked briefly humiliated at being there, as though he had only just realized that he actually signed up to be on a show where he was going to have to regularly referee nonsensical arguments between women who once vied for the affections of Bret Michaels on national television. And upon that realization, a very dark cloud passed over his face, and he went, "Whatever, I'm not going to argue with you about this," and then pouted when Sharon Osbourne didn't give his opinions any cred. It was awesome, because Riki Rachtman is a burnout and a tool. No one has ever given a shit about Riki Rachtman, and yet the dude has been sauntering about for years acting like he's some giant rock star. Sorry, Riki, but no.

One totally loses brain cells watching this show, but at the same time, it's really, really funny in a way the below-average sitcoms of network television are not.

I still have my concerns about The Pickup Artist, or mainly the man they call the Pickup Artist, Mystery. Mystery seems a little toolish, and I find it hard to believe he has such game. Maybe it doesn't translate over the television. Like, I can totally see the sense in the stuff that he tells the contestants, and see why those things work when you put them into action. But he still seems so nerdy, even behind the carefully constructed facade. And why do you have to be called "Mystery?" Why can't you just be Mike or Scott or Chuck or Dennis or whatever?

By the same token, I can totally see why his wing gets an awesome nickname like Matador. Matador is some sexy shit, and he doesn't even need game. He can just walk in looking like he does and it's all over. In fact, the women he flirted with in the first episode of this season were way beneath him.

And this season Mystery is using a female wing as a series regular rather than the blonde dude from the first season. Her name is Tara and she has great bangs. She seems like a really nice person, and yet is still a full on hottie. Just what the contestants need. A hot chick who's nice to them.

So that's three really entertaining shows per week on VH-1, plus The Best Week Ever on the weekends. And pretty soon I think there might be another season of Scott Baio. I can only hope!

Will Post Soon...

I'm sure there are a handful of you out there who really want to see wedding photos and hear all about it, and I promise that I will get to that this weekend. We didn't have our own cameras at the wedding and are at the mercy of all our slacker friends to email us photos from their cameras. Or send us a disc. Or something.

(I know you people took pictures! I saw you!)

So... be back soon. With a real post!

Weirdly Random Update About Pre-Wedding Excitement

I figure I should update just because I haven't since August 13th, a few days into the Olympics and the Olympics are long over now, or so it seems. But... I got nothin'.

Well, here's one thing: We're getting married in two weeks. Two weeks from tomorrow! I'm so excited. Tried on my dress the other night -- it still fits, so that rocks. Rob's bachelor party is tomorrow. It sounds a little wild and zany. My bachelorette party is going to be a decidedly lower key affair at my favorite place (and former Jack Kerouac hangout, not that it matters), My Brother's Bar. We were going to try some salsa dancing at this one nightclub but some of us just were not in the mood. It'll be a lot of fun anyway. My Brother's Bar has amazing burgers and onion rings, and the bartenders mix awesome cocktails. Yeah, I've totally come to a point in my life where I'd rather have amazing burgers and onion rings and a really good Bloody Mary than go dancing at some big salsa club.

(See? This is boring, like the lame shit people write on LiveJournal.)

There are so many reasons I'm excited about the wedding. Getting married to Rob, for one thing. He's so wonderful. Even though he just told me he scratched my favorite LeCreuset stock pot by trying to scrub the bottom of it with a brillo pad -- I love him anyway. In fact, I kind of love him more because of that. Like he sat here for an hour looking all panicked because he was afraid to tell me. Like I was going to just get up and leave, or throw him out. "That's it, we're over." No. Don't think so. I mean, for one thing, he was actually in the kitchen scrubbing pots.

I can't wait to see my friends that are coming in from out of town. There will be Kate, Craig and Ella from Nevada. I haven't seen Kate and Craig since their wedding 10 years ago! That's just wrong. And they are coming with their daughter Ella, who is a year younger than The Pook. I've known Kate since we were four years old, and our dads both worked for Anaconda in Utah. She and her mom came over for lunch with me and my mom one day, and the rest is comic history. Comic, because Kate and I are fucking hilarious. When we are together, we are totally fucking hilarious. Just to tell you everything you need to know about Kate and I, she used to make me laugh hysterically by jumping on her bed with this giant Snuffleupagus stuffed toy she had as a pretend guitar, while we listened to the "Free to Be You and Me" soundtrack on her Mickey Mouse record player. And she also used to read me a book called Millicent the Monster in the most hilarious voices, and sometimes that would make me laugh hard enough to pee my pants. And when we were about 10, we used to religiously watch the Tim Conway show on television, and we would make these tapes of our own comedy act on my cassette recorder... Ahh, good times.

And then John from Toronto, who was basically my very first friend ever. He and his older brother David. Their family lived in the same tiny-ass town we lived in when I was a baby, up north of Vancouver. I think his dad worked for Anaconda -- I think everyone in that town did, because it was a small mining town. Anyway, when I was like 3 and John was like 2, we were best buddies. Lianne and David were best buddies, and the four of us were quite the quartet. They moved away to Ontario right before we moved to the States, but we always visited them when we would go to Cornwall to visit my grandparents -- we would fly into Toronto and spend some time with them before taking the train to Cornwall. John and David always held a certain mystique for my sister and I. They were cool Canadian boys who played hockey and had nice manners, but were still totally mischievous and fun to be around. And when they were older, they got hot (sorry, but they totally did, I'm not gonna lie), so it was always nice to have, like, John's picture on my bulletin board during high school and be able to tell my girlfriends that he was my friend John from Canada. I don't think I ever went so far as to pretend he was my boyfriend in Canada or anything, but I probably considered it.

Anyway, John and his mom are coming and I'm really looking forward to seeing them. Last time I saw John he and his friend Paul were coming through town on a road trip across the States, and we went drinking at the Breckenridge Brewery. I just remember it as being a really fun night. Like, you know how there's nothing all that special about drinking at the Breckenridge Brewery on an ordinary night, but there are just certain people who make everything so much more memorable and fun? That's how John and Paul were. They hustled some Bronco fans from New Mexico out of a few bucks at the pool table. That was pretty funny.

Rob's best friends Adam and Jenny will be here with their little kids. Adam and Jenny met at Rob's first wedding -- how funny is that! I can't wait to meet them -- I've spoken to Jenny on the phone a few times, but haven't met them yet. She and Rob have been friends for years -- since high school.

And of course Rob's mom will be here, who I always love to see. And his dad has decided he can make the trip after all, so I'll finally get to meet his dad.

And my Auntie Val is coming. I love Auntie Val. I could go on for days about Auntie Val and how sweet and fun and loving she is, and what amazing hair she always has.

And then just the particular group of people who are actually coming to the wedding -- it's really going to be an amazing, fun crowd. I think we're going to have a really nice time.

And of course I hope it's a wedding that all those people will say, on Monday at their offices or whatever, "Oh, the wedding was great. It wasn't other weddings we've been to." That's what we're shooting for.

Alcohol? Check. Geeks Who Drink pub quiz? Check. Yummy food? Check. Outstanding music? Check. Fun people? Check, check, check.

I guess we're ready.

Naked Male Insecurity Really Leaves Me Cold

Not really. That's just my favorite quote from The Cutting Edge, a movie I always think of during any Olympics, summer or winter. So I thought it would make a fun title. Despite having jack all to do with the post. Following is a funner-than-usual meme from I Am Livid's blog.

1. My uncle once: asked a 1-year-old and a 2-year-old if they were experiencing some "existential angst."

2. Never in my life: have I used heroin. Or crack. Or meth. Or any other really frightening drug.

3. When I was five: I had a really pretty dark green Polly Flinders dress that I would have worn every single day if my mum had allowed it.

4. High school was: lame, but I met some lovely people there.

5. I will never forget: giving birth.

6. Once I met: Scott Hamilton.

7. There’s this girl I know: who isn't even half as cool as me. And that's just sad.

8. Once, at a bar: I dumped a beer over someone's head.

9. By noon, I’m usually: starving and heading for the lunch room.

10. Last night: we went to Tanya and Craig's for a barbecue because all these lovely people from high school were in town for a visit.

11. If only I had: a million dollars.

12. Next time I go to church: will probably be on my wedding day.

13. What worries me most: are the low IQs of other drivers.

14. When I turn my head left I see: the outer wall of the living room.

15. When I turn my head right I see: Rob puttering about in the kitchen.

16. You know I’m lying when: right, like I'm going to give away my tell.

17. What I miss most about the Eighties is: bad movies featuring Mikhail Baryshnikov.

18. If I were a character in Shakespeare I’d be: Puck.

19. By this time next year: I'll be an old married woman.

20. A better name for me would be: Shawty.

21. I have a hard time understanding: Chinese.

22. If I ever go back to school, I’ll: study law so I can make more money.

23. You know I like you if: I tease you. Mercilessly.

24. If I ever won an award, the first person I would thank would be: my many fans.

25. Take my advice, never: read books that someone tells you are "really, really amazing" or "life changing."

26. My ideal breakfast is: omelet, corned beef hash from the Egg and I.

27. A song I love but do not have is: Children of the Revolution, T Rex.

28. If you visit my hometown, I suggest you: visit Stanley Park.

29. Why won’t people: all just get along?

30. If you spend a night at my house: I'll cook you chicken chili for dinner.

31. I’d stop my wedding for: a million dollars.

32. The world could do without: ignorance.

33. I’d rather lick the belly of a cockroach than: live in a trailer park.

34. My favourite blonde(s) is/are: Aspen, Stacey and Lianne.

35. Paper clips are more useful than: staples.

36. If I do anything well it’s: laundry.

37. I can’t help but: think Daniel is totally cute.

38. I usually cry: twice a day, if not more.

39. My advice to my child/nephew/niece: just be nice.

40. And by the way: Michael Phelps should win an extra gold medal just for being hot.

Sexy British Male Update

I had to call the sexy-voiced British underwriter again this week, and he took the time for an impromptu history lesson about the ISO General Liability form and how it's come to not exclude explosion, collapse, and underground resources. I didn't have the heart to interrupt him and let him know that I already knew these things, mainly because his voice is so mesmerizing. I mean, why doesn't he teach insurance continuing education?? I just spent the worst three days of my insurance life at a continuing ed seminar taught by some of the most dull people (okay, only one of them was dull, the other two were all right, but the dull one ruined the whole thing for the two were okay) on the planet. If this guy were teaching a seminar, I would be the genius of my office, because I would hang on every word and never forget the particular lilt that accompanied each one.

I wonder if Rob would go to an acting coach and learn to speak in a convincing British accent?

When I Think Back on All the Crap I Learned in High School...

I performed the below exercise on LiveJournal after a friend posted it in hers. It was interesting. Back in high school, I always hated all the music "everyone else" was listening to. I found most of it actually painful to hear -- all those singers and bands of limited talent clogging up the airwaves. It's funny how so little changes -- the airwaves are still full of singers and bands of limited talent. The nice thing is that now, it's easier to locate good stuff. You can go on the internet, and read music blogs, and browse the music stores. You can read Paste and other music magazines to learn about new bands. You can ask your friend Jason what he's listening to... oh, wait, that's just Rob and me, since Jason's our friend, not yours. But you get my point.

When I was in high school, the way you found new and good music was to do a lot of research. You had to buy Star Hits magazine, or imported issues of the British counterpart, Smash Hits. You had to read everything you could get your hands on about your favorite bands, and learn what their influences were, and then check out those bands, and then check out their favorites, and so on down the line. And you had to read the liner notes on your albums (we had albums back then), so you would know the details of everyone involved in the project. And then if you enjoyed, say, the saxophone playing on the Roxy Music albums, you would check out other projects that guy had worked on. Or if you were a big Nick Rhodes fan, his mention in an interview of David Sylvian would lead you to check out David Sylvian, Ryuichi Sakamoto, and Japan. And from there you would develop a lifelong love of Ryuichi Sakamoto's work in film scoring, and decide to explore other Japanese musicians, and eventually find yourself one of the first die hard American fans of Shonen Knife.

If you were lucky, MTV would play some good videos, particularly on 120 Minutes on Sunday nights, and you would learn about some good new bands that way. This is where I learned about The Lover Speaks, a weird project produced by Dave Stewart of the Eurythmics. One of the best albums I ever bought, the one single, "No More I Love Yous," only ever got airplay as a video on 120 Minutes. Several years later, Annie Lennox covered this song, and everyone thinks it was her song to begin with, but I know better.

The other thing we had to do was make our way all the way downtown (Denver) to the cool record store, Wax Trax. Unless you had a driving friend who was willing to drive down there (it involved scary one way streets!) or a kind uncle in town for a week who would take you and your friends, this always involved an adventure on public transportation. It took almost an hour and a half to take the bus downtown (a twenty minute drive nowadays, what with improved public infrastructure and all), and you had to transfer at Alameda Ave. Then you had to walk from the downtown station up to Wax Trax on 14th Street. But once you got there, it was like magic... time stopped, you spent hours browsing the vinyl stacks for something new, something different, something no one else you knew had in their music collection. An album was about 6 or 7 bucks, but sometimes you would have to buy an import, which could run you anywhere from 14 to 30 bucks, depending on how rare it was. Remember the record store in Pretty in Pink? That was the Chicago location of Wax Trax. It wasn't a chain, but the owner had a couple of locations. All it was about was music-related posters on the walls, and albums. There might have been a handful of stickers and concert t-shirts for sale, but there was actually a place down the street and across called Across the Trax that sold music-related merch -- posters, shirts, buttons (or flair, as we call buttons on Facebook), bumper stickers, magazines, books.

This was all in the "punk" area of town, which was once the hippie area of town, and down the street from Wax Trax were several shops in which you could buy nice vintage clothing and crazy punk rock brands imported from England (Vivienne Westwood, and Doc Martens footwear). Our parents wouldn't let us dress that way so we could only browse and buy the occasional accessory. But the whole thing was so out of the realm of our daily suburban existence that it was always an adventure, and we would plan these trips downtown for weeks, saving babysitting money to buy albums and lunch, making lists of albums we wanted to look for, blocking out a whole day of vacation or an entire Saturday. I would go with Beth and Tanya and Katherine and Kama and Deanne, and sometimes with Thad -- he was always keen to drive downtown and get new music, too (in fact it was on one of these adventures that I convinced him to buy an album by The Damned, and after that he was really into The Damned, and he still listens to them to this day).

I know we all dreamed of actually working in the record store, but the people who did work there were too intimidating and cool (multiple piercings, mohawks, and Doc Martens) to ask for an application, so none of us ever did. Eventually we also discovered Twist and Shout on old south Pearl Street, but they never had quite what we were looking for -- back then, they catered to an older crowd, as much as they would like to deny it. So we didn't go there very often -- we were hardcore Wax Trax fans.

I can't decide which is better -- discovering music that way, or discovering music the way I discover it now. I'm not one of those people who age past 30 and start thinking that nothing new is ever good, or that the best years of my life happened between 15 and 21 (uch, how sad would that make my life!). So I love to browse new music on the computer, and nowadays, you don't have to gamble -- you can hear everything before you even buy it. The research is easier, and if the music is good, it's just as rewarding to hear as it was when I had to work really hard for it. I mean, good music is good music.

Anyway, below is my LiveJournal post which brought on all this nostalgia. The Billboard charts have never reflected my taste in music. But it was fun to look through them and see what was there those years.

The Music Meme: Where you find the Billboard Top 100 songs from the year you graduated form high school, bold the ones you liked, bold and underline the ones you loved, strike through the ones you hated, and ignore the rest.

The Top 100 Songs of 1988 according to Billboard (the thing with Billboard lists is that they reflect the nation in its entirety, not regional tastes, so people on the east coast might have been listening to other songs in heavy rotation that someone in the middle of the country never even heard; and prior to 2000, these were based on sales direct from the record company and radio airplay in large markets, not MTV, medioum or small market rotation, or actual sales to the public):

1. Faith, George Michael. Actually, I kind of secretly still like this song.
2. Need You Tonight, INXS
3. Got My Mind Set On You, George Harrison
4. Never Gonna Give You Up, Rick Astley. But "Together Forever" was better.
5. Sweet Child O' Mine, Guns N' Roses
6. So Emotional, Whitney Houston
7. Heaven Is A Place On Earth, Belinda Carlisle
8. Could've Been, Tiffany Tiffany was so vomitrocious. We were just talking about this the other night -- in 1988, you were either a Tiffany person, or a Debbie person. Debbie wrote her own songs and didn't look and act like trailer trash. I was a Debbie person.
9. Hands To Heaven, Breathe Sadly, I was just trying to find this on iTunes the other day but couldn't remember the name of the song. This was a late 1988 thing, so we were all into in the dorms.
10. Roll With It, Steve Winwood Ick. Now it's stuck in my head. Thanks!
11. One More Try, George Michael
12. Wishing Well, Terence Trent d'Arby
13. Anything For You, Gloria Estefan and the Miami Sound Machine
14. The Flame, Cheap Trick This was me and my boyfriend Chris's "song." *snerk*
15. Get Outta My Dreams, Get Into My Car, Billy Ocean
16. Seasons Change, Expose
17. Is This Love, Whitesnake
18. Wild, Wild West, Escape Club
19. Pour Some Sugar On Me, Def Leppard
20. I'll Always Love You, Taylor Dayne
21. Man In The Mirror, Michael Jackson
22. Shake Your Love, Debbie Gibson
23. Simply Irresistible, Robert Palmer
24. Hold On To The Nights, Richard Marx
25. Hungry Eyes, Eric Carmen Everyone loved this song because it was on the Dirty Dancing soundtrack.
26. Shattered Dreams, Johnny Hates Jazz
27. Father Figure, George Michael
28. Naughty Girls (Need Love Too), Samantha Fox
29. A Groovy Kind Of Love, Phil Collins
30. Love Bites, Def Leppard
31. Endless Summer Nights, Richard Marx I can't even remember this song, I just remember that I liked it and was really embarrassed about it. Like, you people are the first people I've ever confessed this to.
32. Foolish Beat, Debbie Gibson
33. Where Do Broken Hearts Go, Whitney Houston And I.... will always hate Whitney Houston.
34. Angel, Aerosmith
35. Hazy Shade Of Winter, Bangles Gross. This is the stupid remake of a Simon and Garfunkel song from the Less Than Zero soundtrack, and the Bangles thought they were being all hip and knowledgeable about music when really they were just crap.
36. The Way You Make Me Feel, Michael Jackson Hated it then, but secretly like it now because of Center Stage.
37. Don't Worry, Be Happy, Bobby McFerrin Sadly was huge fan of this song. It was so new and different sounding. What does that tell you about the state of music in 1988???
38. Make Me Lose Control, Eric Carmen This is such a lame song, but I liked it.
39. Red Red Wine, UB40
40. She's Like The Wind, Patrick Swayze Sadly, everyone loved this song after Dirty Dancing was such a hit. Patrick Swayze could have done anything and we'd have all swooned.
41. Bad Medicine, Bon Jovi
42. Kokomo, Beach Boys I mean, it was sort of un-American to not like this song. It was from Cocktail!
43. I Don't Wanna Go On With You Like That, Elton John
44. Together Forever, Rick Astley Rick Astley was so cute.
45. Monkey, George Michael
46. Devil Inside, INXS
47. Should've Known Better, Richard Marx
48. I Don't Wanna Live Without Your Love, Chicago
49. The Loco-Motion, Kylie Minogue Um, no.
50. What Have I Done To Deserve This?, Pet Shop Boys and Dusty Springfield
51. Make It Real, Jets Gross. I had forgotten about Jets. Uch. Google them for a laugh.
52. What's On Your Mind, Information Society
53. Tell It To My Heart, Taylor Dayne I had this weird thing in the 1980s where I was extremely averse to music performed by women who looked like trashy sluts. Thus my dislike for Taylor Dane, Samantha Fox, and Tiffany.
54. Out Of The Blue, Debbie Gibson Yes. I confess. Debbie Gibson rulz.
55. Don't You Want Me, Jody Watley What I want is for you to go back to singing backup for Wham! where you belong.
56. Desire, U2 Not high on my list of U2 faves, but it was definitely a fave at the time -- I mean, look what else was on!
57. I Get Weak, Belinda Carlisle This was one of those great songs where you would listen to it and go, "God, I wish I could feel that way about someone too."
58. Sign Your Name, Terence Trent d'Arby What the hell happened to Terence Trent d'Arby?? He was so good.
59. I Want To Be Your Man, Roger Now this was just some effed up shit.
60. Girlfriend, Pebbles
61. Dirty Diana, Michael Jackson
62. 1-2-3, Gloria Estefan and Miami Sound Machine
63. Mercedes Boy, Pebbles
64. Perfect World, Huey Lewis and the News
65. New Sensation, INXS
66. Catch Me (I'm Falling), Pretty Poison
67. If It Isn't Love, New Edition
68. Rocket 2 U, Jets
69. One Good Woman, Peter Cetera
70. Don't Be Cruel, Cheap Trick
71. Candle In The Wind, Elton John Please. You were coldhearted if you didn't like this song. Everyone liked this song. Even guys.
72. Everything Your Heart Desires, Daryl Hall and John Oates
73. Say You Will , Foreigner
74. I Want Her, Keith Sweat
75. Pink Cadillac, Natalie Cole
76. Fast Car, Tracy Chapman We thought we were SO cool, listening to Tracy Chapman our freshman year of college. She was like the Joni Mitchell of 1988 or something.
77. Electric Blue, Icehouse If I heard this song right now, I would still love it.
78. The Valley Road, Bruce Hornsby and The Range
79. Don't Be Cruel, Bobby Brown Wild Thursday nights in the Ramskellar notwithstanding, no.
80. Always On My Mind, Pet Shop Boys
81. Piano In The Dark, Brenda Russell Featuring Joe Esposito -- I don't even know this one. It probably sucked.
82. When It's Love, Van Halen I was a fan of Sammy Hagar pre-Van Halen, and loved him as their lead singer too.
83. Don't Shed A Tear, Paul Carrack
84. We'll Be Together, Sting
85. I Hate Myself For Loving You, Joan Jett and The Blackhearts
86. I Don't Want To Live Without You, Foreigner
87. Nite And Day, Al B. Sure
88. Don't You Know What The Night Can Do, Steve Winwood
89. One Moment In Time, Whitney Houston
90. Can't Stay Away From You, Gloria Estefan and Miami Sound Machine
91. Kissing A Fool, George Michael Interstingly, I like this song now. But ohhhhh did I hate it then.
92. Cherry Bomb, John Cougar Mellencamp I don't like this one any more, but I do have it on a mix tape from that year, so I know I liked it then.
93. I Still Believe, Brenda K. Starr
94. I Found Someone, Cher
95. Never Tear Us Apart, INXS I had sex with a really hot guy with this song playing on repeat. Too much information? Too bad!
96. Valerie, Steve Winwood I heard this on the radio the other day and I still kind of like it. I mean, I didn't change the channel or anything.
97. Just Like Paradise, David Lee Roth
98. Nothin' But A Good Time, Poison
99. Wait, White Lion More embarrassing than liking Debbie Gibson...
100. Prove Your Love, Taylor Dayne

That is a 100 percent accurate list, but, since it's for the whole of 1988, more accurately depicts the first half of my freshman year of college than my senior year of high school. To get an accurate picture of the "music" They played my senior year of high school, we have to go back to 1987 (and watch how many songs I cross out):

1. Walk Like An Egyptian, Bangles
2. Alone, Heart I had a good friend who learned this song on the piano to get chicks to swoon over him at parties, and it totally worked. But he doesn't realize what a hottie he was to begin with.
3. Shake You Down, Gregory Abbott. I don't even know what the fuck this is. I'm sure it sucked.
4. I Wanna Dance With Somebody (Who Loves Me), Whitney Houston
5. Nothing's Gonna Stop Us Now, Starship
6. C'est La Vie, Robbie Nevil
7. Here I Go Again, Whitesnake This is the one with the video where she dances on the hood of his car. Everyone liked this song, even nu wave hipsters like me.
8. The Way It Is, Bruce Hornsby and the Range
9. Shakedown, Bob Seger
10. Livin' On A Prayer, Bon Jovi
11. La Bamba, Los Lobos This was another song that no one could quibble with. Plus it turned a lot of people on to Los Lobos, who are awesome.
12. Everybody Have Fun Tonight, Wang Chung I will not wang chung tonight, I will just mind my own business.
13. Don't Dream It's Over, Crowded House Weirdly, my best friend Katherine had to go all the way to Venezuela on summer vacay and bring this tape back and that's when we first heard it. But then later it got popular here too.
14. Always, Atlantic Starr Oh Christ no. This reminds me of the excruciating 5 minutes when Laurie Ann Smith and Chris Lujan sang this as a duet at the senior choir concert. Horrible. Just... painful.
15. With Or Without You, U2
16. Looking For A New Love, Jody Watley
17. Head To Toe, Lisa Lisa and Cult Jam I always thought this song was by someone else. But I liked it.
18. I Think We're Alone Now, Tiffany
19. Mony Mony, Billy Idol
20. At This Moment, Billy Vera and The Beaters. I'm not sure I know this one either. Oh wait! I just remembered, and I hated it. Ick.
21. Lady In Red, Chris De Burgh
22. Didn't We Almost Have It All, Whitney Houston
23. I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For, U2
24. I Want Your Sex, George Michael Seriously, did ANYONE actually LIKE this song? Or was it all just about the controversy? It was horrible, horrible, horrible.
25. Notorious, Duran Duran
26. Only In My Dreams, Debbie Gibson
27. (I've Had) The Time Of My Life, Bill Medley and Jennifer Warnes Another Dirty Dancing classic.
28. The Next Time I Fall, Peter Cetera and Amy Grant Yes, I confess. Huge fan of this song. Loved it. Hate it now, though, if that's any consolation.
29. Lean On Me, Club Nouveau
30. Open Your Heart, Madonna
31. Lost In Emotion, Lisa Lisa and Cult Jam
32. (I Just) Died In Your Arms, Cutting Crew
33. Heart And Soul, T'pau Sort of. I mean, T'pau was kind of edgy.
34. You Keep Me Hangin' On, Kim Wilde
35. Keep Your Hands To Yourself, Georgia Satellites Yes. But I hate it now.
36. I Knew You Were Waiting (For Me), Aretha Franklin and George Michael
37. Control, Janet Jackson
38. Somewhere Out There, Linda Ronstadt and James Ingram
39. U Got The Look, Prince
40. Land Of Confusion, Genesis
41. Jacob's Ladder, Huey Lewis and The News The only Huey Lewis song I ever really liked, as far as I recall. And I couldn't even sing it to you now -- I just remember liking it.
42. Who's That Girl, Madonna
43. You Got It All, Jets
44. Touch Me (I Want Your Body), Samantha Fox
45. I Just Can't Stop Loving You, Michael Jackson and Siedah Garrett
46. Causing A Commotion, Madonna I don't even KNOW this song.
47. In Too Deep, Genesis
48. Let's Wait Awhile, Janet Jackson
49. Hip To Be Square, Huey Lewis and the News
50. Will You Still Love Me?, Chicago This was our prom song. Eww.
51. Little Lies, Fleetwood Mac
52. Luka, Suzanne Vega
53. I Heard A Rumour, Bananarama
54. Don't Mean Nothing, Richard Marx
55. Songbird, Kenny G
56. Carrie, Europe
57. Don't Disturb This Groove, System
58. La Isla Bonita, Madonna
59. Bad, Michael Jackson
60. Sign 'O' The Times, Prince
61. Change Of Heart, Cyndi Lauper
62. Come Go With Me, Expose
63. Can't We Try, Dan Hill
64. To Be A Lover, Billy Idol
65. Mandolin Rain, Bruce Hornsby and the Range
66. Breakout, Swing Out Sister Ohhh yeah. Loved the Swing Out Sister.
67. Stand By Me, Ben E. King
68. Tonight, Tonight, Tonight, Genesis
69. Someday, Glass Tiger Yes, I dug this band. They were Canadian.
70. When Smokey Sings, ABC This was a nice retro-sounding tune.
71. Casanova, Levert
72. Rhythm Is Gonna Get You, Gloria Estefan and the Miami Sound Machine
73. Rock Steady, Whispers
74. Wanted Dead Or Alive, Bon Jovi
75. Big Time, Peter Gabriel
76. The Finer Things, Steve Winwood
77. Let Me Be The One, Expose
78. Is This Love, Survivor
79. Diamonds, Herb Alpert
80. Point Of No Return, Expose
81. Big Love, Fleetwood Mac
82. Midnight Blue, Lou Gramm Another song I weirdly loved.
83. Something So Strong, Crowded House
84. Heat Of The Night, Bryan Adams
85. Nothing's Gonna Change My Love For You, Glenn Medeiros
86. Brilliant Disguise, Bruce Springsteen
87. Just To See Her, Smokey Robinson
88. Who Will You Run Too, Heart
89. Respect Yourself, Bruce Willis
90. Cross My Broken Heart, Jets
91. Victory, Kool and The Gang
92. Don't Get Me Wrong, Pretenders
93. Doing It All For My Baby, Huey Lewis and The News
94. Right On Track, Breakfast Club
95. Ballerina Girl, Lionel Richie Apparently this song was about his little daughter Nicole.
96. Meet Me Half Way, Kenny Loggins
97. I've Been In Love Before, Cutting Crew
98. (You Gotta) Fight For Your Right To Party, Beastie Boys
99. Funkytown, Pseudo Echo Everyone loved this song -- the dweebies, the geekoids, the jocks -- they all adored it.
100. Love You Down, Ready For The World. I have no idea what this song is, but it sounds like it sucked.

This has been quite the interesting trip down memory lane. And Trent, if you're reading this? I never want to hear you bitch and moan about the sad state of music again. Because as you can see, it can always get worse. And we didn't have the internet back then.

Tori and Dean and Other Random Stuff

I admit it: I loved Tori and Dean: Inn Love. And I fully intend to love the new season of the Tori and Dean reality show, in which they move back to Hollywood. I missed the last couple of episodes of season 2, so I'm catching up this morning as E! screens them in preparation for Tuesday's debut of the new season. I'm the sort of person is always willing to believe that most subjects of reality shows are being relatively authentic inasmuch someone can be authentic with cameras everywhere and knowing a million people might watch them, unless they send up immediate red flags (getting naked on night one in the house or something). So I like it that Tori seems like she's a pretty normal person, given how batshit crazy it seems like her parents are/were -- like, her dad wouldn't even fly so she never got to go on family vacations as a child except to Las Vegas, and yet, there was a bowling alley in her house. So good times. And I like it that she went to the Mommy and Me exercise class and made an effort to get to know some of the other women in the town. And I like it that Tori and Dean wanted to make french fries. Like, they're not afraid to actually work for a living. Not that acting isn't work, but you know what I mean.

So anyway...

We celebrated our two-year anniversary this week. It was actually on Thursday, and we decided to go out for the fancy celebratory dinner Friday night in order to play in a trivia tournament worth $1,000 to the winning team on Thursday. That didn't work out so well. Unfortunately, it seems that Sex Panther becomes Sux Panther under any kind of pressure. My personal excuse for failing to perform is that it was just too goddamn loud in the bar, and I couldn't focus. Plus I was starving, and it took an hour for our dinner to arrive after Rob went and waited in a line for 15 minutes to order it. So an hour and 15 minutes for dinner. That's nuts. My blood sugar had long since plummeted to the danger zone by then, and the food almost didn't help make me feel better. And we tanked. By missing some questions we should have known the answers to.

But our fancy dinner Friday night was lovely. We went to Chianti and drank Prosecco and ate pasta. There was nutella involved in my dessert and that makes me happy.

So, I'm sitting here channel surfing now that the Tori and Dean show is over, and there is nothing on. We actually have around 500 channels, and I swear to you, there is nothing on. I told Rob a few weeks ago when Comcast suckered us into adding Starz and HBO to our package that there would never be anything on either of those channels again that we would actually want to watch. And I was right. I mean, The Cotton Club? Is that the best you can do, Starz? Come on!

Wedding plans... wedding plans are moving along. Most of the major stuff is done. Yesterday we went to the giant liquor store and shopped for beer. My mother wants us to serve Coors Light to our guests; I'm horrified by the mere suggestion. Sorry, but Rob and I don't even drink Coors Light. Why would we actually serve it to our wedding guests? It's like, "Thanks for taking time out of your busy life to fly a thousand miles to attend our wedding. Here's a really shitty beer for your trouble." Our beer drinking friends would probably never hang out with us at a bar again -- "Sorry, we can't be seen with you in public. You might order a Coors Light and embarrass us."

And of course, since it involved shopping on a Saturday afternoon when there are other people around, Rob was completely traumatized by the whole thing. I even made my mom drive so that Rob wouldn't have to navigate the whole Wal-Mart mess right near the giant liquor store. But he was still traumatized by it. We ate lunch in the restaurant at the giant liquor store and it was very quiet in there and only one other table had customers, and he hardly spoke for the first fifteen minutes of sitting there. Then, just when he had perked back up, we dragged him over to Wal Mart to get some groceries. When my mom and I go to Wal Mart, we are On A Mission. We do not fuck around. We go in, we get what we need, we leave. When we go together, we are even more On A Mission. We separated when we got to the grocery area so as to be more efficient, and I think this puzzled Rob. At one point, we passed my mother as she was heading one direction and we were heading for produce; we were on such A Mission that we did not even acknowledge one another's existence. I think this puzzled Rob. He was like, "There's your mom," and I was like, "Find the green onions." Because we would be seeing her again in 10 minutes. We were riding home in her car. Why the hell would I pause and say hello to her in the store?

I made the mistake of sending him off to find a thing he needed by himself, while I waited in line at the "express" checkout lane (I had produce, so I was not capable of utilizing one of the 986 self checkout lanes). He didn't make it back before I got to the front of the line, so I decided to just pay and have him wait in line when he got there for his one item; the line was moving relatively quickly by then, so I felt it would be all right. But the whole time (three minutes) he was waiting in line, he had this look on his face like I'd just killed his new puppy or something. It was very pathetic. There is nothing you can do at this point to make him feel better except actually leave Wal Mart, which obviously we did as soon as our purchases were made. And then he still needed an hour or two to decompress.

So that's how I torture Rob -- drag him into Super Wal Mart on a Saturday afternoon. Good times. I can't wait to see how he reacts to Disney World this December!

Seriously, I've Got Nothing

It's just that, my stupid post about The Bachelor season finale has been there for far too long with nothing to replace it, and it's actually becoming kind of embarrassing. People might think I actually watch The Bachelor, given that I posted about it after the first episode (which I did not watch in its entirety) and again after the finale (which I did watch in its entirety, technically speaking, since there was nothing else on as I attempted to channel-surf that night). More to the point, people might think I actually care about The Bachelor, and I don't. It was one night of my life, and my reaction to it was so different than all the people I know who do watch every episode and do actually kind of care about The Bachelor, that I just had to post.

So there, I've gone and done it -- essentially posted about The Bachelor, for a third time.

Methinks I doth protest too much, or something.

Heather at Dooce posted a video by the Doves, and I watched it and loved it, and then I was completely offended that I didn't already know about this band. I feel like a failure. They are everything that is perfect about BritPop.

I wish someone would post something that was so funny I would laugh until I was about to pee my pants.

A Perfect Ending

Some people I know are all bitter that The Bachelor chose the girl named Shayne on the season finale last night, but I happen to think it was the perfect ending. I mean, the dude isn't all that deep. It's not like he ever made any bones about looking for some tremendously deep and amazing spiritual connection -- he was just looking for someone he felt comfortable with enough to hang out with every day for the rest of his life (I'm taking him at his word here and assuming that his desire to meet that special someone was as authentic as it could be given the circumstances of the show). And while I did not watch every single episode, I did keep up on Television Without Pity, so I am fully aware that the other girls in the house all couldn't stand Shayne. And it is my theory that the girl in the house that all the other girls hate is always the correct choice for the bachelor -- this is the one girl who is most definitely there for him; she is fully aware that she isn't there to be making friends with the other girls or whatever. She's there to be with the guy. And because this girl is aware of this, it makes the other girls mad, because they all want to pretend like this is a more romantic way to meet a man than Match.com or speed dating. And it's not. And they don't like to be reminded of that. So they pile up on the girl who isn't afraid to admit that.

Shayne and Matt are perfect for each other because they both seem to be those sorts of people who rarely look inward; they coast through life on good looks and a jovial personality, and hard work at careers that slightly more talented people wouldn't have to work at (acting and business, respectively). Each thinks the other is awesome, and they therefore have fun together. He is British and therefore seems slightly older than he actually is, so Shayne can work out her daddy issues with him, and be part of a family like she never had growing up. Poor thing has been on her own since she was 17! She needs someone to take care of her, and you can totally tell that Matt wants to take care of her.

If Matt had chosen Chelsea, the relationship would have been doomed by constant conversations about feelings and stuff, and he would've had to end it before it even really began. I can totally imagine the phone conversations he and Shayne were probably having during the weeks they had to stay apart until the finale aired -- it was probably a lot of flirting and baby talk and possibly veered into outright phone sex. Whereas Chelsea would have wanted to talk about her feelings, and Matt's feelings, and make grand romantic plans for when they would be together next. I suspect Shayne's plans for that were much more practical, if you catch my drift, and didn't require extensive planning or discussion.

I predict that this will be that rare Bachelor relationship that actually lasts for a little while. I suspect they might even make it down the aisle. I can only hope he insists she walk down the aisle, rather than straddling his back and making him carry her.

Stuff I Love This Week

Spring temperatures and lovely breezes. Not so much the high wind gusts that we've had, but definitely the gentle breezes, which bring with them...

The scent of blossoming flowers and trees. It's lovely this time of year, not overpowering like it is sometimes on summer evenings.

Cornershop. British band enjoying popularity in late 1990s techno scene, even though they rise far above techno. And what classic lyrics. "Every body needs a bosom for a pillow/Mine's only 45." Damn right.

Salsitas chips. These are delicious. They actually taste like some heretofore unknown variety of Doritos, but as I'm lactose intolerant, I can't have Doritos. So I turned to Salsitas, and they are delish. But I wouldn't recommend getting up close and personal with anyone after eating them.

Stuff White People Like. See link to the right. Hilarious stuff. If you, like Rob, read an entry and say, "This has a slight Republican bent to it," you don't get it, and should stop reading immediately, because they are probably mocking you.

Writing exercises. Will. Finish. Novel. Uhhhhhh... as soon as I dust off the rough draft and refresh my memory as to what the stupid thing is even about. Singer? Rock star? Some kind of scandalous love affair? Actually, it sounds really entertaining. I wish someone else would just write it already.

"Just A Little Bit (Ooh Aah)" - Gina G. Sometimes, driving in my car, I want it to sound like a gay night club circa summer of 1999, and this song cranked to eleven helps set the tone for that.

Remniscing about the summer of 1999. 1999 was a really great year for me, right up there with 1985 and 1993, and the summer was particularly great. Thousands of cocktails were consumed, many gay night clubs were visited, many a great dance move was busted out, and insurance was still an interesting career choice (and easy to do with a hangover).

Andrew Lloyd Webber on American Idol. What's great about Andrew Lloyd Webber doing the mentoring on American Idol is that... well, yes, he IS Andrew Lloyd Webber, and he actually had sound advice for the contestants, advice which made sense and was easy to put into practice. I mean, who would have thought that Syesha actually had a personality in there somewhere? Fascinating.

Chicken chili. Sorry, but my chicken chili is too awesome not to mention. We've eaten this dish pretty much weekly since last August when I made it up, and I thought for sure we'd all be sick of it by now, but the fact is, it's awesome and delicious and everyone I've ever fed it to loves it. Loves. It.

Microserfs. It's been a long while since I've read this book, but I picked it up the other night because there was a certain passage I wanted to locate, which we are considering having read at our wedding. And it is still as awesome as ever. Even though it is set very firmly in 1993, it is still timeless in a lot of ways. Generation X was merely a rough draft for Microserfs. Douglas Coupland is the shizzle.

The awesome jeans I got at Target last week. Plus they were on clearance, so not only do they fit perfectly, they also cost only $13.99. That rocks!

Facebook. I know, I'm addicted.

Rob.

Daniel.

Emails from Dolor.

In Which I Take Back Taking It Back

The other day I got a voice message from a Sexy British Male Voice following up on something he had emailed to me, and today when we finally spoke, I was swooning over terms like "occurrence based liability" and "claims made coverage" and "pollution liability" and "premium options." Oh, and "aggregate limits" -- that one was really hot. So it seems that the Sexy British Male Voice can even make insurance exciting.

I want to go work in his office.

Mariah Carey Night is Totally Lost On Me

Of all the mentors the producers of American Idol could choose, the one that would make me the most indifferent is Mariah Carey. Talk about a bunch of songs I could care less about -- these would be them. It's like I don't even care -- I have no emotion invested in tonight's Idol proceedings. I don't even care that Simon was mean to two of my faves. Because the whole thing is like, snoooooorrrrrrrrre. At least some other mentor would annoy me to death (for example, Jennifer Lopez, last year, who is SO not qualified to be giving anyone else singing tips, let alone a group of people who are better singers than she will ever be), or capture my mild interest (I hear Neil Diamond will be mentoring this season, so I'm hoping one of the contestants will kick out "Sweet Caroline"). But Mariah Carey... does nothing for me. One way or the other. I find now that I am old that her shriek thing doesn't even bother me. It used to fill me with unspeakable rage, but now, I'm just chill with it -- it's her shtick, and everyone needs shtick every now and then. Her ubertight clothing doesn't even get my goat like it once did. Could it be that the afternoon I once spent watching Glitter actually softened my heart towards her? I have no idea. I'm just like whatever.

But you know what? I would totally hug Mariah Carey, like all the contestants did. She looks like she has really nice-smelling hair.

Update

I watched Fools Rush In last night, again. For the second time in two weeks. Rob had been out with his friend at a pub quiz and came in about 20 minutes into the movie, and said, "Uhh, honey, you're watching it again." As though it was some annoying habit he'd discussed with me previously and I'd said make sure to tell me next time I'm doing it, and so he was telling me in case I didn't notice.

I was able to turn it off after only an hour, though. So I'm making progress.

A Day Well Spent

If you know me at all, you'll know just by the title that my day was not well spent by the average definition of well spent, and you'll assume that it involved a lot of television viewing (I swear that watching television is not all that I do, but for some reason, tv makes me blog). And you'll be correct.

So, for some reason, I find it impossible to sleep in. Every time I have a day off work, I wake when my alarm would usually go off on a work day. I'll get up to blow my nose and then lie back down thinking I'll drift back off to sleep, and then I start sneezing. It's ridiculous, so then I just get up. So the last two days have been quite lengthy for me in terms of awake hours, and with Daniel on vacation with his dad, and Rob ill, I had to amuse myself rather than be amused by them. Mainly, this amusement took the form of lying on the sofa watching tv, with a few chores thrown in to make me appear less lazy -- in fact, I've managed to completely excavate Daniel's room, and it's amazing what I found there. But mostly, it was all about television.

Here is what I've watched the last two days:

• Documentary about new archaeological evidence supporting the Exodus tale. Somehow this involved James Cameron.
  
• Two episodes of You Are What You Eat.
• Fools Rush In. I've seen this movie six-thousand times. You'd think eventually I'd just spring $7.99 for a copy on DVD, but no. I'm also pretty certain I'm the only person on the planet who actually loves this movie. It's because Salma Hayek is so hot, and I have a major girl-crush on her.
  
• Two episodes of Drake & Josh.
  
• Degrassi episodes that I missed earlier in the season.
  
• A handful of Whose Wedding Is It Anyway? episodes.
  
• The last seven episodes of Lost. I'd been saving them up on the DVR, and finally had an opportunity to watch them all.

And oddly, this was all way too much television, even for me.

But I'm glad to be all caught up on Lost. And weirdly, though he is an evil crazyass, I do find myself rooting for Ben over Widmore. I'm sure I'll come to regret this.

I've been missing Harry Potter a lot lately. I think I'm about to launch a re-read.

Rob is playing Assassin's Creed right now, and I've noticed that he makes his character wander around a lot like he drives through parking lots. It's pretty funny.

We hid 250 chocolate eggs for Daniel and we're leaving a note from the Easter Bunny saying he has to find them all. This is the sort of thing that amuses us. But I mean, one should have to work for one's endless supply of free candy. So I don't feel too badly about it.

I take it back...

I realize this is my own fault for making gross cultural generalizations and then watching The Bachelor because nothing else is on, but what I said about assuming that British men are always funnier and smarter than American men? It is no longer true. Witness:

THE BRITISH ARE COMING! THE BRITISH ARE COMING! MATT GRANT - THE FIRST INTERNATIONAL BACHELOR - STORMS AMERICAN SHORES TO FIND TRUE LOVE, WHEN THE BACHELOR RETURNS TO ABC, MONDAY, MARCH 17

New Bachelor Heartthrob Loves London and All It Has to Offer, But is Crazy About American Women

Matt Grant, 27, a handsome global financier from London is out to prove that love has no borders when he steps into his role as the first-ever international Bachelor, searching for a woman who can be the love of his life and start a family with him. Matt begins his pursuit of his ultimate soul mate when the 12th edition of ABC's popular romance reality series, The Bachelor, premieres with a 90-minute special, MONDAY, MARCH 17 (9:32-11:00 p.m., ET), on the ABC Television Network.

Matt, the 6'5", blue-eyed business development manager who works with millionaire businessmen and is crazy about American women, wowed the 25 bachelorettes hoping to be the love of his life. This totally charming English gentleman has something on his mind that is more urgent than any business deal -- he wants to find the love of his life and to start a family as soon as possible. The youngest of five brothers, the rest of whom are married, Matt is very close to his parents and siblings. His parents are still best friends and have a sexy relationship, even after 30 years together. The native of Bishop Stortford, a short distance from London, Matt received his B.A. in modern history and politics from Anglia Ruskin University in Cambridge. His fondest dream is to share stories and a laugh at the end of the day with someone special, and his sexy good looks, intelligence and strong family ties make him a perfect catch.

Romantic and adventurous dates will reach new heights this season, as some of the women are taken to a sexy fashion show only to be surprised to find out they are the models. Las Vegas is the backdrop for a glittering evening of gambling and partying in a fabulous suite at the Paris Las Vegas hotel. One woman is treated to a private Hollywood movie screening of Columbia Pictures' Made of Honor, starring Patrick Dempsey, at the legendary Mann's Chinese Theater, as the couple gets the "red carpet" treatment by the paparazzi. A sexy game of rugby -- Matt's favorite English sport -- a fun afternoon of tennis and English tea, a classic 50s Americana date, a home-cooked meal by the Bachelor himself and a glamorous group date on the snowy slopes of Sun Valley, Idaho, will test the ladies' perseverance in pursuing their romantic objective, along with fun, exciting and exotic dates that will elicit real and raw passions. As in the past, women will continue to be eliminated each week, but if at any point along the way a woman should decide that she's no longer interested in the Bachelor, she can reject his invitation to continue dating. Some lucky women will meet his family, and he will visit their hometowns for a slice of their life in an effort to determine the woman with whom he is most compatible. At the end of the journey, the Bachelor may quite possibly have found true love. But the big question is: After all of this, will he pop the question, and will she say yes? Hosted by Chris Harrison, The Bachelor is from Next Entertainment in association with Warner Horizon Television. Mike Fleiss, David Bohnert and Martin Hilton are executive producers.

Now, I will concede that the toolishness inherent in the above press release is solely the fault of the person who wrote it, and those responsible for the plague that is The Bachelor. But what kind of tool gets himself involved in this situation? Someone made the argument that it's a free home and lots of hot chicks for however many weeks it lasts, but you would think that a man who works with millionaire businessmen and is reasonably attractive about the face would be able to afford decent housing and bag a few hot chicks without the added humiliation of having America watch it on television for their amusement (and we are, I admit, an easily amused bunch).

But I sat through about 10 minutes of the first episode, and the guy looked stunned, and it was really difficult to tell if he was thinking, "Wow, I'm overwhelmed by all the lovely ladies in the room," or if he was thinking, "Oh Christ, what did I get myself into?"

One sort of hopes he's doing it on a dare.

Bring It On Again! And again! And again! ad nauseum...

My son has lately become obsessed with "America's Funniest Home Videos." He thinks this show is hilarious from start to finish. I don't argue too much because I find it decidedly more palatable than endless episodes of "Ben 10" or "Danny Phantom." However, I'm not certain that a small child being bitten in the face by a snake constitutes a "funny home video." I find the preoccupation on this show with people being injured or maimed kind of disturbing. Call me crazy. What's even more disturbing is how often Rob and I laugh out loud at some of the selections. Alas, reruns air every weeknight on ABC Family, and Daniel knows this, and also knows how to work the remote (which happened sooner than I might have hoped; I was hoping he would remain clueless about the remote until high school, at least, but he IS a guy, so I know I was foolish). So... "America's Funniest Home Videos" it is.

Luckily, with all the time I've spent viewing ABC Family channel lately, I've had ample notice of some programming I might have otherwise been unaware of: the numerous sequels to classic films Bring It On! and The Cutting Edge. Bring It On!, as I'm sure you're aware, is the cheertastic movie about Kirsten Dunst and Eliza Dushku and their cheerleading teammates taking on the East Compton Clovers in the national cheerleading competition. For my (four) international readers, this competition does actually exist. In fact, aside from its melodrama, Bring It On! is a pretty factually accurate flick. And its melodrama makes it a classic. It brought us such brilliant made-up words as "cheerocracy" and "cheertator." "Cheertator" being a play on "dictator," not something to do with a cheerleader and tator tots. Just so you know.

But I am glad to say the story did not just die with the Toros taking second place to the East Compton Clovers. Oh no! We now have such gems as the straight-to-DVD-then-resurrected-for the ABC affiliates Bring It On Again! in which something cheer-related happens at some college. And then there was the made-for-ABC-Family Bring it On: All Or Nothing, in which Disney tried to milk Hayden Panettierre's pre-Heroes contract and her newfound Heroes-related popularity into big ratings with a movie about a cheerleader (and isn't Hayden Panettierre everyone's favorite cheerleader??) who moves to a new town and is confronted with a bitchy cheer captain played by Solange Knowles (probably channeling all her inner-resentment towards older sister Beyonce) who insinuates that our Hayden isn't good enough to be part of her squad. AS IF! Hayden, as we know, is the whole world's favorite cheerleader. What was really funny about this particular Bring It On! sequel is that it aired parallel to the start of Heroes season 2, and just seemed like an extended version of the Claire plotline. Especially if you are easily confused by television. Like, I could completely imagine some viewer new to Heroes and unfamiliar with the Bring It On! film franchise watching this sequel all confused, thinking Wait -- I thought her name was Claire. And where is Adrian Pasdar??

And now there is a fourth Bring It On! And I am happy to report that it is a modern-day retelling of West Side Story:

Southern California high school senior Carson arrives at the all-important "Cheer Camp Nationals" determined to lead her squad, the West High Sharks, to victory. But chic New Yorker Brooke and her team, the East High Jets, are equally steadfast in their pursuit of the competition's coveted "Spirit Stick." As tension mounts between the two rival squads, Carson falls for fellow cheerleader Penn, not realizing he's a Jet. When Brooke discovers the budding romance, she raises the stakes by challenging Carson to a one-on-one cheer-off. A spectacular "cheer fighting" sequence erupts into a no-holds-barred brawl and cheerleaders on both sides are suspended from the competition. With their dreams of taking home the top prize all but shattered, the leaders of both squads realize they'll have to take drastic measures to stay in the game. Written by Universal Pictures

I mean, it just sounds amazing, does it not? "A spectacular cheer fighting sequence?" Could you even dream of anything more cheertastic than that to sell this movie? I can't wait to see it. I think it's on tomorrow afternoon.

And then there's The Cutting Edge. Where Bring It On! finds its way onto the top 10 list of every former cheerleader, The Cutting Edge will always find its way onto the top 10 list of any former figure skater (I bet hockey players secretly love this movie too, but would never admit it. I know they are all secretly jealous of figure skaters.). It is cheesy and sometimes makes me cringe, but I love it! I love it the way former dancers love Center Stage (which has not, at press time, spawned any sequels... to the best of my knowledge... but wait! I think that's incorrect! I think there was one! I will research this and get back to you!*) -- it's kind of cringe-inducing and poorly executed, but the idea of it is brilliant, and in the case of The Cutting Edge, all the actors were fantastic in a movie that was totally beneath all of them. And the only place the cinematography really failed in this movie was during the actual skating sequences, which is too bad. Plus, this girl I used to figure skate with was Moira Kelly's skating stunt double, and weirdly, I recognized her skating style long before the credits rolled the first time I saw the movie.

So Disney/ABC somehow obtained ownership of this movie as well, and made a part two starring Kristy Carlson Romano as the daughter of Kate Moseley and Douglas Dorsey. And she too is a budding champion, but as a singles skater, and then when she gets an injury, they decide she should skate pairs instead (as if pairs skating is somehow easier with an injury than singles skating), and set her up with a partner with whom she bickers while romantic sparks fly. What's awesome is that they didn't even have to come up with a new plot, except for like the first fifteen minutes of the movie, and that fifteen minutes was just giving us what we wanted to hear -- that Kate and Doug got married and had a kid and now Kate is a figure skating coach... for her own kid. And there's some sort of tension between KCR and father Doug. Because what would an ABC Family movie be without ten subplots? I must admit that I haven't seen the entire thing because the first half an hour gave me the willies and I changed the channel, but one of these days, I will watch it all. I'm sure it's as fabulous as it sounds.

And now they have brought us The Cutting Edge 3: Chasing the Dream. This one is merely a retelling of the original with the characters backwards -- it is the boy who has been training to be a pairs skater and has a partner who can't cut it, and his coach finds this female hockey player to learn to skate as his partner. And she's Hispanic -- I'm not sure if that's just one of Disney's attempts to be multicultural or if it's crucial in some way to the plotline (girl from the wrong side of the tracks! Ooh!), but what I do know is that this movie has the requisite "Tooooooe piiiiick!" jokes which it would fall completely flat without. I can't wait. My only fear is that I think both this movie and the 4th Bring It On! movie are on this weekend, and I would hate to have to choose between them. I can only hope that Disney and ABC Family will air them both a thousand times so I have a chance to catch them both.

(Insanely, I still get offended by factual inaccuracies in the original Cutting Edge movie. And the one that gets me the most is the use of spotlights on the skaters during the competition sequences. They did this in Ice Princess as well, and it drives me crazy every time I see it. You don't get a frickin' spotlight during competition. Of all the things about these movies that I could find offensive, it's an inappropriate spotlight.)

I have no idea what the point of this entry was, other than to sort of question whether or not these sequels were really necessary. Obviously they're necessary, because otherwise, how would the young people of today know the joys of Bring It On! and The Cutting Edge? They would live such sad, empty lives without ever hearing the words, "BRRRRR! IT'S COLD IN HERE! THERE MUST BE SOME TOROS IN THE ATMOSPHERE!" and "When we're done here, can we teach it to breathe with its mouth closed?"

*I knew I had seen something about a sequel to Center Stage somewhere, but it turns out it is still in production. I suspect this one goes straight to DVD. But Johnathan Reeves and Cooper Neilsen are both returning. Yay!

Fake Words and Small Children With Crackberries

Fake Words that I Love:

1). Craptacular.

2). Craptastic (actually you can put "crap" in front of almost -- and I use almost very loosely -- any suffix and get a decent word out of it).

3). Boobtacular (used most often on Television Without Pity, during recaps of Rock of Love).

4). Bootylicious.

5). Meh. Arguably, this is a real word, used to replicate the noise one makes when something makes them feel... meh.

6). Asshat.

Fake Words I Hate:

1). Coverages. Really, this is just a misuse of "coverage" by the insurance industry; a lot of stupid people work in insurance, and they have all spent the last 10 years popularizing their sad attempt to turn "coverage" into a plural, apparently not realizing that "coverage" is the plural of "coverage." What's most disturbing to me is that a large maker of insurance agency management software is now using the word "coverages" in its software. I can't even begin to tell you how this drives me up a wall.

2). OMG, when spoken. I really hope the trend of actually vocalizing netspeak is not something that catches on. I'll die if either of my parents ever says, "LOL" in the midst of conversation. "Squee" is another internet fangirl word which should never, ever be uttered in real life.

3). Fucktard. This is just a way to pretend you're not really calling someone a retard, when in fact you really are calling them not just a retard, but a fucking retard. Calling people retards to mock them went out of vogue in the early 1980s. I'm not really convinced it's something we should bring back.

*****

A little while ago my best friend came by with her two daughters, Kira and Julia, to deliver Girl Scout Cookies to several people in my office. And I can't help it -- I continue to picture Kira in my head as a 6-year-old little girl, even with her clearly 12-year-old visage and personality staring me right in the face. So imagine my complete and utter amusement when we were all sitting here talking about my wedding plans and I was confirming with her that she'd like to be a junior bridesmaid or something like that, and she whipped out her cell phone and checked her calendar to make sure she had the wedding date free. She would fit right in at my office with all the crackberry addicts.

I kind of pride myself on not owning a phone that does everything. I enjoy feeling sort of Luddite in that I have a cell phone and an iPod and a camera and a Nintendo DS and a computer and a television and a paper calendar, and have no desire to combine them. Ever. I mean, I can't even imagine a scenario in which I would want to check emails while wandering the grocery store aisles, or upload photos to my blog in the middle of my vacation, or catch the newest episode of Lost during round 5 of the pub quiz (unless round 5 was regarding Lost and I was a pub quiz cheater).

But I am guessing that Kira will be one of the first to volunteer to just have all that info downloaded into a chip inserted behind her ear.

Ways I Kill Time, Brain Cells

I added a bunch of my newer favorite blogs to the list at right, so in case you're bored and want something to read but don't want to lift a book or magazine (which this time of year are heavy due to the presentation of fall fashion in the March issues, so I can totally understand not wanting to risk the hernia a magazine might leave you with), check some of them out. A couple are just from favorite scrapbookers of mine and mostly deal with matters of crafts and scrapbooking, but Bits & Pieces is actually really funny in addition to being -- sometimes -- about scrapbooking. Like, I think she started the blog thinking it would always be about scrapbooking, and then got distracted by life.

Fuller Go Easy on the Pepsi, in addition to being the best blog name ever (and I'm not even going to tell you where it came from -- if you don't know, then I'm just going sit back and feel... well, not elitist, exactly, but like I share an inside joke with one of my Invisible Internet Friends... not that this guy and I are IIF, it's more like I just read his blog and make random comments and he's probably like, who the hell is this woman and why does she have to comment in my blog? But until he actually tells me to cease and desist, I will continue...), is often funny and insightful, or usually both at the same time. I suspect that the author and Dolor would be really good friends if they ever met in real life.

Blogjam was a blog I stumbled on by accident just before Christmas when I was online looking for a porkpie recipe I could actually cope with. The author made a post about a porkpie he made a couple of years ago, and apparently said post made him sort of famous because it's come up in Google searches so many times. He's a funny British guy -- but then, I have this cultural bias in which I just assume that all British guys are smarter and funnier than American guys. He had a link to friend's blog, Ladyshambles, and she's pretty funny, so I started reading her as well, and she had a link to I Am Livid, which is the funniest of all. He posts these mini-rants about all sorts of random stuff.

So there you go -- reading material.

Daniel is watching old Tom and Jerry cartoons and is totally captivated. I was never a huge Tom and Jerry fan myself; I preferred cartoons with dialogue and human (or Smurf) characters. But I'm fascinated that he's so fascinated, because these cartoons require a much longer attention span than the garbage he usually watches on Nickelodeon and Jetix. Although Daniel has a pretty long attention span, so I don't know why I'm surprised. They're not as glitzy, I guess, as his usual fare.

It snowed briefly this morning but seems to have stopped now. Yay.

Some Updates on Recent Posts

1. I offended some women I don't even know at a scrapbooking party this past Saturday by making snarky comments about the light on my Craft Lite Cutter to my two friends I was there with. They were all quiet, and then one of them was all, "Oh, I thought that looked really cool when I saw the ad because I can never see what I'm doing on my regular cutter," and I was all, "Well, it comes with a ton of different blades that you can do a lot with. I can't wait to try those out." And then I changed the subject to how cute someone's baby was. I rarely think other people's babies are all that cute, as I am just not a baby lover, but I felt like I had to say it to move us past the tense Craft Lite Cutter moment. Damn that Craft Lite Cutter!

2. My friend commented in my "Worst Thing I've Ever Seen On Television" post with a comment about that hockey player that got his carotid artery cut by someone else's blade, and I replied back that I didn't know what the hell she was talking about, because I live under a rock when it comes to sports news of any kind. We do not watch any news broadcasts in our house at all, and I get my other news by seeking it out online. I very rarely seek out sports news. So now I feel rather foolish, because my comment could seem as though I made light of that poor dude's injury, but really, it was just because I had no effing clue. Finally this morning I had the radio on in the car quite by accident, and the news guy was doing his thing and mentioned the injury, and now I know.

But I also have to say that when I made a distinction between "bad television" and "grisly television," I didn't count sporting events at all. I'm talking about stuff that's actually made for television, which sporting events are not; they are only broadcast as a service to the viewing public, much like the news.

*sigh*

Anyhoodle.

3. Monster Truck Rally: Apparently, this thing is actually called "Monster Jam." It sells out the Pepsi Center every time it comes to town. And it is boy heaven. There are, of course, monster trucks. There is a pile of dirt and a pile of old broken down cars piled on top of each other that the monster trucks drive over at least a thousand times during the event. During the breaks, there is motocross 4-wheel racing, and also motocross bikes exhibiting their skills on ramps, jumping over the cars that the monster trucks crush. There was a little mini Bobcat that groomed the course, and there was a larger Caterpillar digger that they used to tow the monster trucks when they tumbled over. Which happened twice. I will post some photos we took once I get them loaded to the computer. Betcha can't wait!

So to summarize: monster trucks, dirt, 4-wheel cycles, motorcycles, daring stunts, construction vehicles, stuff crashing. Boy heaven.

****

In other news, we finally picked a wedding place and a date. September 27th! Woohoo.

The Worst Thing I've Ever Seen on Television

No, seriously...

Wait for it...

The Skating/Gymnastics Spectacular.

Here is the description from the channel guide -- I'm not making this shit up: "Pianist Lang Lang is the featured performer at the annual skating-gymnastics event. Gymnasts: Paul Hamm; Nastia Liukin; Ivan Ivankov; Yulia Barsukova; Shenea Booth; Arthur Davis; and Raj Bhavsar. Skaters: Evgeni Plushenko; Shizuka Arakawa; Surya Bonaly."

I mean, really? This was something some television execs went into a meeting about and greenlighted? "How next can we exploit the American public's fascination with both figure skating and gymnastics?" they asked themselves, and decided to combine the two. And apparently this is not just a one time thing, it's an annual event. That's disturbing.

Because honestly, this show is crap. I doubt it's better in person, either. You've got the gymnasts on one end of the rink, and the skaters on the ice, and they keep trying to do these numbers where they're all performing at the same time, but you have no idea where to look or who to look at. And for good measure, the orchestra and pianist are right there on the ice too. Of course there are plenty of solo performances, and there is the cachet of a few current reigning Olympic champions. But who invited Surya Bonaly? The most inconsistent female skater of all time, with the shittiest attitude? I didn't realize until just this minute that she even still existed.

And there's the problematic issue of gymnastics, and men's gymnastics in particular, not really being a "performance" type of sport. I mean, it's not meant to be set to music (except the women's floor exercise) and done in weird, figure skating-like costumes. So yes, I snickered hysterically through the moments where four of the men came out in gold lame gymnastics pants and did a weird little dance and then took turns on the high bar or something. And then I was supposed to take seriously Catalina Potolan's performance in which she wore a pink velour bodysuit with a swirly skirt which she took off halfway through, and dance around and stroked the balance beam -- it was hideous, all of it -- the outfit, the routine, the expression on her face.

I hope these people were all well paid for this.

And please. For the love of all that is holy in this world. Will someone please tell Evgeni Plushenko he needs a frigging bang trim?

Monster Truck Jam

Tomorrow we're going to a Monster Truck Jam at the Pepsi Center. Our friends have some tickets for their box so we're all going to go because they figured Daniel would dig it. Which he will. Grave Digger will be there. He has a small Matchbox version of Grave Digger. He's been seeing the commercials on television and he was asking if we could go, so he's going to be thrilled.

So yes, a monster truck rally. I'll let you know how it goes.

I guess I didn't get the memo...

I was just catching up on a couple of blogs that I haven't read since well before Christmas, and both had lengthy entries and links to other blogs with lengthy entries dedicated to the "lie" of Santa Claus. Basically, these people are questioning whether or not it's appropriate to teach their kids to believe in Santa Claus, because eventually their kids will learn the "truth," which is that there is no such thing as Santa Claus, and therefore, they will a) be angry with their parents for lying to them, and b) begin questioning every single other thing their parents have ever taught them, leading in one case to c) questioning the existence of God and Jesus. And judging by the number of comments on both blogs -- which generally receive 4-6 comments on any given entry -- supporting the notion that Santa is a lie we shouldn't tell our children, this is apparently some new popular thinking going around. All the commenters were people who said things like "I felt betrayed when I found out Santa Claus wasn't real."

Hmm. I guess I missed the memo where we were all going to hate on Santa Claus.

I don't personally know a single person who felt betrayed when they found out Santa Claus wasn't real. Granted, my family and friends are extremely well-adjusted, so maybe we're the weirdos. But for the most part, I think we were all fully aware that Santa Claus was a game your parents played with you. A game, not a lie they perpetuated on you. It's definitely a game with me and Daniel. I think he'll react like I did when he finally figures it out -- he'll think it's awesome that I "tricked" him for so long. And he'll remember Santa as being a magic and happy part of childhood and he'll carry it on with his own kids. He won't be angry or disappointed because by the time he figures it out, he'll also be old enough to realize that he's still going to have a great Christmas with or without Santa's help. And that's really what Santa, when done properly, does -- he's a tool you can use to get your kids interested in giving, a mythical figure who teaches us that you can reap so many benefits from giving, maybe it's fun to just give and give to the whole world. Santa fires up kids' imaginations, gets them thinking about the whole wide world and not just their tiny corner of it. Kids will ask all sorts of questions about whether or not kids in China get a visit from Santa, and it's your opportunity to help them learn about life in China. Or wherever else your kid asks about.

If doing the Santa thing in your house is leading to your kids being selfish and spoiled, I don't really think the issue is Santa -- I'm going to go out on a limb and say it's the parenting.

If doing the Santa thing in your house is leading to your kids questioning the validity of everything you've ever taught them, maybe you should thank your lucky stars that your kids have brains enough to not just take everything at face value and take the opportunity to help them explore their faith, or whatever it is they're questioning.

Maybe you felt betrayed by your parents because they were assholes who just up and told you there was no Santa one day and let that be their excuse to never buy you another decent Christmas gift again. Maybe this, then, is your opportunity to not be your parents.

I just the think the whole "debate" is ridiculous. I see where this is going -- people are going to teach their kids that there is no Santa Claus, and those kids are going to come to school and tell the children of normal people that there is no Santa Claus, thus leading to the normal people having to either make something up on the fly when their kid asks about it, or ending the Santa game before they had planned to. Some kid on the playground told Daniel and his friends that there is no Santa and that he saw his parents leaving the gifts out, but I think Daniel has one more year to believe in Santa and then he'll probably figure it out, so I told him that if he didn't believe in Santa, then Santa wouldn't visit. And I seriously doubt that this will harm him for life. In fact, when he confronted me with his theory that there is no Santa, he thought it was really funny.

It's all fine and well if you don't want to have your kids believing in Santa, but that doesn't mean it's okay for you to preach it to my kid.

You might assume that the people most concerned about this are hardcore Christians, and that is true of one camp, but the other camp is gay parents. Particularly gay men. A lot of gay men (and I'm sure lesbian women) have this thing where they have vowed, after coming out, to never tell another lie as long as they live, and they feel like teaching their kids to believe in Santa is lying. I find this perspective fascinating from a sociological viewpoint, but it's not something I could ever get behind.

We're Santa people in this house.

Home Alone 2, and some things that suck

Apparently I should have included Home Alone 2 on my list of movies with scenes that make me cry every single time -- I just realized this when I was watching it on cable for the 958th time this morning. And towards the end, there's the part where his mom finds Kevin standing in front of the tree at Rockefeller Center, just after he's made a Christmas wish to see her. I hate to be all "the Home Alone filmmakers were really good," but they were, because in this scene, the obvious thing would have been to have Kevin shout, "Mom!" and the mom shout "Kevin!" and have them run straight to one another and embrace. But instead, it happens a little bit differently -- she comes rushing up to where he's standing and stops about three feet away from him, and they look at one another, then Kevin apologizes, and she apologizes. And then they stare at each other some more, and then finally they embrace. And this entire time, certain among us are getting all weepy. Awesome! I can't believe I left this off my original list. What was I thinking?

Strangely, I have reserved judgment on Pearl Harbor for a long time, mainly because I was still in the midst of being hot for Ben Affleck at the time it came out, and also because it was so pretty ("Ooh, look, shiny things!") -- oh, and I was pregnant, so it seemed good because it played upon one's hormonal emotions. But last night, during half time of the Patriots-Jags game, I got bored of the commentary and switched over to Pearl Harbor on another channel, just to see what it looked like in high-def (seriously, that's what went through my head). And finally came to realize that Pearl Harbor is indeed a shite movie. Kate Beckinsale is quite lovely to look at, as is the scenery, and the casting of Dan Aykroyd as an adviser to the President was a really interesting choice, but let's face it -- Josh Hartnett can't act, and Ben Affleck is out of his depth in his attempts to be deeper than a romantic hero. However, if I had been, like, sick at the time, I bet I would've been all, "Pearl Harbor is the best movie ever!" Sick people and pregnant women -- that's who this movie is good for. Otherwise, it sucks.

Another thing that sucks is that song by Sara Bareilles -- I have no idea what it's called and am far too lazy to check, but it's the one in heavy rotation on The N and VH-1 right now, and is also featured in the ad for Music On Demand. She's banging away on a piano and singing something like "I'm not gonna zsazsazsazsa a love song something something." This song sucks. What sucks the most about this song is that it's very sneaky and it might suck you in to thinking you actually like it -- it's very dangerous. You have to overcome this one on an intellectual level. You actually have to learn to hate this song just because everyone else loves it. It's got the kicky piano chords, the plucky heroine with a not altogether unpleasant voice, slightly indecipherable lyrics, and then... it becomes very bland. Because of the very same qualities which first make you think it's okay. But it sucks.

Other things that suck:

- The ending to Once. Totally amazing movie, and then... they don't get together in the end. I know, I've been totally brainwashed by chick flicks and books with standard happy endings. If there's sexual tension, people should hook up -- that's what I believe. But they didn't. Thank God he bought her a piano, and thank God for the beautiful music, or this would be the worst movie ever.

- Acid reflux.

- Car repairs that were originally going to be $165 (woohoo!) and after all was said and done, are practically a million dollars. Well, maybe not a million -- but definitely the bulk of my paycheck. And yet all the repairs I've made to my car over the last year are still less than a third of what car payments would have been. So it's a very tough call. I mean, I do hate my car. I wouldn't mind a new car. It's just that the thought of a car payment sends me into a blind panic.

- Freezing feet. I thought my new lined Crocs would help with this, but no.

- When they show part of the "reveal" in commercials for What Not to Wear. Now I know this week's makeover is going to feature a dress I already hate.

- Weight Watchers new ads trying to pretend they're not a "diet." Okay, maybe you're not a "diet" using the common definition of the word rather than the nutrionist's definition, but you're still a weight loss program. Don't lie.

- Having to go places on Sunday. I hate this. I especially hate having to go someplace early on a Sunday. Sunday should be my day where I get to lounge about on my sofa doing nothing all day long. Even the bible says that Sunday is to be a day of rest! Instead, I have to get in the shower and get ready to go someplace by 11am or something. Blech. It's almost like having to go to work.

And on that note, I have to go get ready. We're going to a movie premiere today. Our friends Kyle and Steve made a documentary. I'll let you know more about it after I see it, but I'm sure it's going to be good.