Tuesday, January 31, 2006

Gonna Wash That Malaise Right Out of His...Feathers

Before The Chicken hits the showers for the day, he just wanted to tell you...

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Heeeeeeeeere's Johnny!

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To all my editorial homies out there, Happy St. John Bosco Day!

Monday, January 30, 2006

Coffee, Tea or ...Joe Torre in Aisle Three!

I was in the A&P the other day, and after being horrified by the fact that there was a box of MLB Valentines in which El Capitan and Manny share a card (and Curtass is deigned special enough to give your favorite teacher), I passed this big display for some brand of tea. And who should be gracing the ad above it but Joe Torre, endorsing green tea for good health. And let me tell you, I got such a pang of missing baseball, but it was kind of in a good way because the sight of Joe looking all happy about drinking green tea made me realize that it's almost here. The bleakness of January is all but gone (not that we even had a January this year, weatherwise), and signs of spring, like your favorite manager popping up via cardboard in the grocery store can start warming things up some. It's been almost four months, and I miss my old friends in Pinstripes. I cannot wait to kick the cobwebs off and get reaquainted with them.

I think I'm going to visit the A&P a lot in the coming weeks...

Sunday, January 29, 2006

Of Bars and Babies

So my mind is kind of boggled by this (I think it's for Cingular) commercial -- you know the one: there are "bars" everywhere. Like, this dude passes the woman on the street walking five dogs, and they're lined up in height order, or the sushi on his plate is arranged just so, so it looks like cell phone reception bars (as much as sushi can look like cell phone reception bars -- because you know that's how you eat it). Well, I guess we're supposed to think that this dude gets reception everywhere, because he's in this meeting and bloop! He gets a text message on his Treo that his wife is in labor. Yeah, let's think about this: You knock up your wife, she's about to experience large amounts of pain to get this spawn of yours into the world, you're about to become a father, and you make her TEXT MESSAGE you? Or you're the stupid wifey poo and don't want to interrupt your husband's big, important meeting with a call saying "We need to get to the hospital, buddy," so you sit there manipulating your keypad to type in the midst of contractions? What is WRONG with these people?

I mean, I love my texting, but when the shit comes down, the future Complete and Total Husband is going to have his cellpone on the loudest god damn ring the phone can be set to, because I don't care if he's meeting with the Pope, he's getting a PHONE CALL when "It's time." And I'm thinking this is how most people operate nowadays, even with all our technology. You know, important matters such as THE BIRTH OF YOUR CHILD kind of goes beyond the whole "OMG. Hving bbe, lol" of text messages.

Friday, January 27, 2006

What's in a (Middle) Name? Really!

So in the Cubicle Convo of the Day, we were just sharing our middle names and I am always confused by why guys' middle names from the 70s, early 80s are pretty varied (Art and Jason made off with some cool ones -- though not as cool if Jason had been Jason Rusty and Art had been Arthur Declan), while parents tended to go with the standard Lee, Marie, Lynn or Ann for girls (small case study here: Rana's got Lynne, and Elizabeth and I were stuck with Ann(e). And I can vouch for a good number of my gal friends having one of those four middle names). So, what, was there a name shortage along with a gas shortage back in the day? Is it because short, one-syllable names go so well with first names or something? Did our parents just exert themselves on finding our first names, get tired and just pull from the 1970s Middle Name Pool or something?

Answers! I need them!

Thursday, January 26, 2006

The Investment of the Century

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I guess the investors heard about all those hot men!

Wednesday, January 25, 2006

Tuesday, January 24, 2006

And Now A Message From The Chicken and The Captain

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I think they'd make a great premise for a sitcom, don't you?

Monday, January 23, 2006

Return of the Music! Adjust Thy Volume!

Because we were just talking karaoke at our Monday night dinner (and because Dexter showed me how to reconvert songs to MP3 format because iTunes is too ahead of my time), I got all inspired to post what I would sing at Hoboken Idol if I could indeed carry a tune, or what I would sing if I made it on American Idol with my non famewhoriness. Carrie Underwood sang this during last year's Idol, the week after A-Fed was axed, and she practically drove a knife through my heart singing this and Making Love out of Nothing At All, the two songs I was dying to hear A-Fed to sing (and what are the chances she goes with those two songs? Get out of my 9-months-ago head, Carrie). But I am OK with it now and can like the song again, so enjoy listening to the vocal stylings of Don McLean (and yeah, I know Roy Orbison -- 4/23 birthday friend, holla! -- originally sang it, but I think McLean's is more depressing and that's just awesome.) or lower the volume. Don't say I didn't warn you!

[And yeah, I have no idea what is wrong with the player right now. It seems to play only when it wants to. C'est la vie!)

Pirates Rule

Just because he might be the most utterly quotable person I've ever come into contact with:

Jason: "I looked in the mirror just now and I was like, 'Man, I look like a pirate!'"

Art and I couldn't exactly see the resemblance (no eye patch or parrot or peg leg in sight...and I don't think either of us have ever seen a bespectacled pirate), but it got us to Arrrr around a bit and talk about the Navy capturing that pirate ship -- which I'm convinced never would've made the news if you referred to those captured as "smugglers" because the term "pirates" just inspires awesomeness and the news agencies know this. Jason then started telling us about a pirate from down in his home territory of the Carolinas, who both Art and I misheard as "Steve Bonnet", (but it's really Stede Bonnet) and just the idea of a pirate named Steve had all of us giggling the rest of the morning. Because seriously. Pirate Steve?

Art: He'd be like, "Hey guys! It's me, Pirate Steve!"
Jason: "Yes, yes, please excuse me while I plunder your booty."
Art: "I'm really sorry to have to do this to you, but I'm afraid you'll have to walk the plank."

I know I'd be terrified.

The Subway Hates Me

HATE

So I'm convinced the NYC Subway turnstiles are out to get me. I know I'm a klutz and all, but there has to be more to it than clumsniness when my leg rams itself into that pointy-jutting out portion of the turnstile. I mean, look how f'ing narrow that thing is. I have long legs, god damn it! How am I supposed to get through that gracefully? At least twice a year, the side of my thigh will find itself getting stabbed with that edge as I make my way through in a commuting rush. And of course, this morning as I turned sideways to make room for my umbrella and bag as I went through, WHAM!, out of nowhere comes The Point, and I have my first turnstile bruise of the year. The only good thing is that it's winter and I'm not wearing shorts any time soon. But it hurt, y'all.

One of the worst bruises I ever got was actually from a PATH turnstile, and that happened in July. I slammed into The Point so hard that I actually saw stars. And the bruise...oh man, it was evil looking. So for the rest of the summer, everyone was like "Holy crap, what happened to your leg?" and I couldn't say "Yeah, man, it was this awesome karaoke accident" or "I got in a brawl with a Mets fan". No, I had to be all, "That turnstile came out of nowhere!"

I'm not even sure why they need that edge sticking out. If they just shaved it down and made it normal and straight I'd never have this problem. But I guess the MTA likes to abuse the paying customer in any way possible, just so we know that we are their bitch and stuff.

And He's a Doctah!

How do you seal your place in KB's fictional-character-loving heart? By uttering lines like this:

"I'm George. I sleep down the hall from you. I buy your tampons."

george

Yes, George O'Malley in all his stammering, floppy-haired glory is my new TV boyfriend. And I think I may have to get in the long line that's been forming since last March.

Just one thing I have a problem with...OK two things: 1) I do not want him with the object of his affection, Meredith, because I sense no chemistry there and he's only going to get his heart broken because Meredith and McDreamy are so meant to be or whatever and 2) No way in real life he'd be single -- he'd have an unnappreciative bitchy girlfriend.

Sunday, January 22, 2006

I'm Unapologetically Yankee-centric. Sue Me.

While I'm not quite sure what Joel Sherman is getting at in this column (referring to the Yanks as "spoiled" because they don't want to play in the World Cup, but then seeming to be against the concept of the tournament himself), it is nice to see columnists speaking out against it too. Because I know maybe two fans who are excited about this -- the rest are more excited about Spring Training itself. I wouldn't trade the heavenly anticipation and placidness of the Grapefruit League for anything -- even a team of rah-rah-national-pride all stars (masquerading as a way to get other countries interested in the sport when like 85 percent of the countries involved are ALREADY CRAZY ABOUT THE GAME) who "wouldn't get to play together normally." Snoooooooooze. Give me my Yankees, or give me...my Yankees. Damn it.

But then I've always been more of a Yankee fan than a nationalist. Perhaps there's something wrong with me.

Thursday, January 19, 2006

Separated at Birth?

Why Yahoo went with this picture of Theo I will never know, but....heeeeeeeeeeee.

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I'm sorry, I had to.

And to think -- if he'd been anywhere near the Yankee organization, I probably would've had impure thoughts about him. Not so much now...

Wednesday, January 18, 2006

In Which the Weather is Dead to Me

I'm not going to feel guilty any more about wanting winter to be winter. Because I would gladly take 25 degrees and snowing over 60 degrees and freaking MONSOON SEASON, thank you very much.

The weather combined with the cranked-up heat is making me feel all sorts of snoozy right now. Or maybe it's the post-Chick-Fil-A letdown. Or the fact that Jason is feeling like "Alexander Pope" and called out sick today and it's always much snoozier without him. Or I'm just dizzy from A-Rod's waffling in the latest installment of As the Tournament That No One Cares About Turns. Or I'm truly baffled that Idol drew over 35 million viewers last night and it just proves that I'm in the minority when it comes to not being keen on trainwrecks (I did watch though, and I am terrified of a SiNOTra redux, x2 no less, while excited about some singers who I'm terrified are lying about their ages because they look older than 28. But there was no A-Fed moment of mouth-hanging-open-in-awe-while-folding-socks, and I doubt there will be again, so you can sigh with relief now.)

And, oh my god, can the rain just shut up and die already? Please?

Tuesday, January 17, 2006

Operation: Chick-Fil-A

Some people sneak into bars or stripclubs or better seats at sporting events and concerts. My friends and I? Sneak into college food courts -- all in the name of Chick-Fil-A. Can you think of a better cause? I didn't think so.

But let me backtrack.

First off, you all know how I've lamented that there are no Chick-Fil-As in Manhattan. For whatever reason, the greatest city in the world refuses to embrace the all-out awesomeness that is Chick-Fil-A, and I am forced to have it only when I go to visit my parents and I make a trip to the mall. It is so unfair, having one's favorite fast food be so out of reach. And I know I'm not crazy because many others have made their sentiments known -- that being, Where the fuck is a Chick-Fil-A around here?

Then, a week and half ago:
Erica: Omigod! I forgot to tell you! I heard there's a Chick-Fil-A at NYU!
KB: WHAT?!?!

So commenced a morning of searching online for this miraclulousness -- and sure enough, the Weinstein Food Court contains the only Chick-Fil-A on the isle of Manhattan.

Text message to Tonya:

KB: Omg -- there is a Chick-Fil-A in the NYU foodcourt.
Tonya: No WAY!

And so begins spreading the good word to other Chick-Fil-A aficionados, like Julianna and Jason and Dexter who are all way excited at the prospect because none of us have cars and can't drive the 20 miles to the closest mall Chick-Fil-A. Then begins the putting of heads together and figuring out of how we get in there. I mean, at Delaware, the food court was open to the public, but this is New York City, so we needed some strategy. We knew it was closed until today, being the school was on its winter break. We decide this is the week we must find some time to go on a reconnaissance mission. And then it happens.

Today 5:45 p.m.:
Phone ringing in an office in midtown Manhattan.
KB: Hello?
Tonya: So my dinner plans canceled. Erica and I were thinking of going to scope out the Chick-Fil-A. Want to come?
KB: Um, YEAH?!

And so we go, by subway, map of NYU campus in hand, dreaming of how absolutely wonderful it's going to be when we get our mitts on the best f'ing chicken in America. We decide if we can't get in, we will pay a student to bring it to us. Or we will have to sneak in, and this is just freaking dandy coming out of me, who didn't even try to sneak into bars in college and didn't even bother going to one until I was 21. Yes, alcohol can not move me to be devious, but chicken? Fuck yeah.

Well, we finally get to the door, and beyond it is the gleaming lights of the food court. It is our Oz but we're not going to ask for a brain, a heart and courage. Oh no, we are going for the nuggets, and chicken sandwich and the waffliest of waffle fries. But as we get closer to the door, we notice the piece of paper taped to it: NYU ID REQUIRED. Of course it is! Tonya, Erica and I exchange a strategic, full of waffle-fry craving glance. We don't get a chance to commisserate because a group of kids are walking in ahead of us and going through the door, and Tonya takes action, muttering "walk with a purpose. Walk with a purpose!" And we do, but there's no one checking IDs and we walk with a purpose into...kindergarten. Holy cow, when did college kids get so young? I've never been so aware of my age before, be it from the guilt of sneaking in or because I actually do feel 28. But we do not let the Sesame Street crowd deter us in our quest and keep our eyes on the prize.

And then, there it is. Off to the side in the back, a wee little Chick-Fil-A stand. THE ONLY ONE IN NEW YORK CITY. And there's barely anyone standing there and the three of us are perplexed. Like, what the hell is wrong with these kids that they can't appreciate this heavenly gift? But it makes it all the easier for us to snatch up what we want, which we do, like we've never seen food before. Of course we feel like everyone's staring at us because we could've babysat all these kids, and we decide we are SO not eating in this place. Can you say sore thumbs? Sore thumbs wearing work clothes and looking all old among kids in jeans and sweats? We'd totally be drawing attention to ourselves. We cannot risk blowing whatever cover we have when we are this close to glory.

The last hurdle: The cashier. I don't make eye contact, like I'm on the Most Wanted list or something. That's when the cashier has to go and be all "How was your break?" And I'm all "Oh my god, this is New York! You're not supposed to be friendly!" but I really say "Uh, not long enough." And then I'm afraid she's onto me and this is just a test question or something because I know I don't look 21 anymore and I'm paying with cash and not a student card and I'm sure she's going to blow a whistle and be all "IMPOSTOR! IMPOSTOR!" but she's all "Don't worry, spring break is just around the corner!" And I'm feeling all sorts of terrible and guilty and just a little sad that I don't indeed have a spring break anymore, but I smile and gather my things and practically run to the other side where I meet up with Tonya whose eyes are darting around as she shoves her purchases into an I Heart NY bag.Erica's too freaked to even get a soda (and had the same "how was your break?" exchange with her cashier), and we all hustle the fuck out of there, waiting for the doors to slam on us and the campus security to come cart us away, but we make it to the street, giggling like we're crazy, probably because we're insane with relief. We made it out...with Chick-Fil-A...IN NEW YORK CITY!

And when we plunk down on a bench in Washington Square Park, we don't care that it's cold and like January and that we don't have a table. We have the fruits of our labors. We are savoring the deep-fried goodness, our mission accomplished.

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This is what happiness looks like. And it tasted damn good too.

Monday, January 16, 2006

Let The Countdown Begin...

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The Chicken consults Carolyn's handy dandy Yankee calendar and realizes it's about that time....

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We'll just ignore the fact that it's still like 2 1/2 months till Opening Day. Four weeks till Spring Training starts is a great jumping off point...

(PS -- Rick says The Chicken makes him want to "touch himself." And I'm not even going to touch that.)

Sunday, January 15, 2006

OMG! I Finally Like a Movie Enough to Recommend It!

As soon as it hits a theater near you, go see Match Point. And I'd put a nice little linky here and I'd give you my total opinion of it, but I'd rather y'all see it without hearing much about it. So don't go reading reviews and stuff because it might just ruin all the fun of a great movie experience.

Trust me.

I Want a Gold For the Blue Hen

I know all of America is supposed to be rooting for Michelle Kwan to bust out of her drought and win the gold medal at the Olympics, or for Sasha Cohen because she's always coming in second or whatever, but I'm picking Kimmie Meissner as my horse, if only because she trains at the old alma mater and she comes in sans backstory, which is always a relief. I mean, how many Michelle Kwan Valentine-y features are we going to be subjected to when the Olympic broadcasts hit? You know NBC is going to play it up too, being that the ladies' free skate is always a ratings powerhouse and they want to annihalate whatever competition they have that night. I mean, don't get me wrong, I like Michelle as a skater -- I just don't care for the whole "can she pull herself up by the bootstraps and finally win Olympic gold?" spiel, especially because it doesn't take away from her already fantastic career, yet people will act as if it does. So she doesn't have good luck when it comes to the Olympics -- big whoop. She's still one of the most decorated athletes in American history. But we are a society that likes making big deals about curses in sports, letting it overshadow everything else, so what can I expect? It pisses me off especially in the Olympics because they only come every so often, and it's nice just to see things on a big stage -- who the hell needs the "inspirational" when it's pretty much a miracle that these athletes have as much natural talent as they do. It's a rare thing to be that good, only a select few can do what they do, yet we need Al Trautwig telling us people's sob stories to make us root for them. Blech.

Anyway, go Kimmie! And I hope that if they do have to, god forbid, do a "getting to know you" feature, that we get to see some of the campus in the background...

Saturday, January 14, 2006

It's Baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaack

To my delight (and probably to the dismay of a few of my readers) American Idol is back on Tuesday. WOO-to-the-HOO!!! And while I can't stand the audtion rounds, at least it sounds like it will be entertaining when they get to the final cuts in Hollywood before the top 12:

Lythgoe didn’t stop there.  He went on to say, “I’ve never seen people willing to sh*t on other people as much as this crowd.”  Lythgoe also added “They were foul-mouthed with each other. I mean thank god they weren’t any sharp instruments.”

He's probably exaggerating here to stir up interest (and I know my darling A-Fed wouldn't be so boorish), but at least we'll separate the fame-whores from the actual talent relatively quickly. I mean, if you know in your heart of hearts that you're good, you won't have to resort to being "foul mouthed" with others. Unless, of course, it's fame-whorish behavior that's pissing you off and then, by all means, let the fur fly.

Also, they are apparently pimping this one guy named Ace already, so I am pre-disposed to not liking him. I mean, why watch the show if you already know who's going to win? I'm pretty sure they were already pimping Carrie slightly last year at this time, so I am a bit concerned, but they were also pimping Mario a bit, and look how that ended.

Anyway, I'm psyched to have my guilty pleasure back. Between this and the Olympics starting in a few weeks (oh yeah, this blog's gonna be all over the place topic wise in February), I think it's safe to say I will have myself distracted pretty well from the whole missing baseball thing...which, my god, why the fuck is April so far away? BAH!

Friday, January 13, 2006

Cap'n vs. Captain....ARRRRRR!!!!

OMG. The most awesomest picture (from a
very cute story) of El Capitan I think I've ever seen:

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But if he thinks he's taking command of the SS Mystique and Aura from me, dude has another thing coming.

Thursday, January 12, 2006

The Truth Will Set Me Free

Since everyone's being so honest these days about what really is or isn't the truth in their writing, I've decided to come clean here. I mean, you guys have been reading this thing for, like, four and a half years and you deserve some honesty. It kills me to admit this but...OK, you guys, the Yankees really didn't write their entries in the Yankee Diaries.

I know.

I loathe myself for this. I hope you don't hate me as well. *Sniffle*

Lack of Sleep Makes Me Evil

One day Chewboken is going to come home to find his precious rolling chair smashed into a billion teeny-tiny pieces, and burnt to a smoldering heap, perhaps only a single wheel left ominously on his pillow. And he'll hear evil laughing coming from somewhere in the building -- no wait, stet that -- he'll hear the contented snoring of his downstairs neighbor, who can sleep soundly because she knows Office Max isn't open 24 hours and Chewboken won't be able to buy another rolly throne until then.

This is what I fantasized about last night as I lay awake, counting the amount of times he rolled back and forth over the hardwood in the hour since I'd gone to bed. The one thing that cheered me is that he will probably get a chunk of his security deposit taken away because there seriously have to be long-ass grooves in the floor by now. I fully expect to wake up one morning and see the wheels sticking out of my ceiling.

Tuesday, January 10, 2006

He's The Bestest

You know, it's when I see lists like this that I realize just how privileged I've been to see Mariano Rivera pitch. I mean, they're calling him the best MLB closer in history, as in to this point, there's been no one better than him. And I've gotten to see him play with my own two eyes, and on my favorite team no less.

Yeah, so if he has a bad game again and anyone dares to boo him, and I'm there, the boo-ee is going to get smacked. Hard.

Monday, January 09, 2006

Where There's Smoke...There's Also A Few Other Things That Can Kill You

After lengthy debate, the Assembly this afternoon overwhelmingly approved legislation that would ban smoking in indoor public places such as restaurants, bars, bowling alleys, veterans and fraternal clubs, and enclosed shopping malls.

And I'm sure that every single one of the politicians that approved this sucker drove some kind of gas-guzzling, pollute-my-lungs-worse-than-second-hand-smoke-ever-will car or truck to Trenton today. Just a thought.

But this won't apply to Atlantic City Casinos -- because a smoker's money is only good when they're pissing it away to line Donald Trump's pockets some more or putting it back into the tourism industry, I guess.

Listen, I like my clothes smelling nice when I come out of a bar too -- but damn, did I not just go in there to help pickle my liver a bit, maybe kill a few braincells? So admit it -- you don't really care much about my health there now do you, lawmakers?

I just wish they wouldn't all be so damn hypocritical and pious about it is all....

Nothing Is Free. Not Even the Weather.

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I know I should be turning cartwheels over 53 degrees in god-awful January but...this had all better not mean we're going to have a 40-degree May and a rainy June. That's all I'm saying.

Sunday, January 08, 2006

Oh, The Things People Say

So with it being a boring Saturday night in January, I figured why not have some peeps over? And why not have a little too much to drink and bust out the karaoke machine? And turn it into a warm-up for Hoboken Idol '06? Shyeah, bring it on!

Tonya and I of course opened up the action with, you guessed it, a Richard Marx shout out with "Right Here Waiting," which we totally turn into a song about Tino, and when I lament that no one has ever touched "Against All Odds" at my parties, Tonya's all "let's do it!" And we dedicate that to Tino as well. I think we miss him or something.

Also on the evening's set list wereRana bringing down the house with Bye, Bye, Bye (complete with choreography), Dexter and Colette (with a stress fracture no less) joining forces for Man in the Mirror (and we all provided the back-up gospel choir part), Eric and Dexter's "Brokeback Mountain" wrestling match, The "Mona Lisa" A-Fed, Vicki and Dexter's sweet version of She's Always a Woman, headbanging during Bohemian Rhapsody and scaring Erica, the Roxanne drinking game coming out of the college mothballs, Erica and Dexter deciding that as reigning Hoboken Idols, they must sing a farewell duet together on my birthday, Eric sitting all sad-like because he refused to sing without his duet buddy, and a rousing singalong to We Are the World, on which we all do great Bruce, Dionne Warwick, and Bob Dylan imitations.

Some other memorable moments from the night:

--Dexter and Liana get up to sing My Perogative and Erica's all "Oh my god, you're Liana? You haven't updated your blog in a WHILE." The look on Liana's face was priceless -- blogger's remorse mixed with "How the HELL did you know that?"

--Jesse and Christina arrive fresh from their trip to Montana, and Jesse even has a new cowboy hat. Jesse, obviously inspired by the new chapeau, is all about the country songs and starts trying to plug through "Hey Good Lookin'", which kind of horrifies the resident country fans in attendance, Erica and Tonya, who start murmmering about an "intervention." The hat and song combo also later prompt Dexter to call out "I wish I knew how to quit you!"

--Dexter and Jesse do a very, very, very spirited rendition of "The Thong Song" in which Dexter makes it "an ode to KB" (and I regret to inform them that I am not wearing a thong, and not even my cool Snoopy underwear for the occassion) and Erica figures out what "dumps like a truck" are and how it's totally not what she thought it was. And I think both ideas may have scarred her for life.

And today, as I'm waiting in a very crowded theater for Pride & Prejudice to start, I hear these two guys sitting behind me talking about the movie.

Dude 1: Do you know anything about this? Like, have you read the book?
Dude 2: You know, I majored in English and had to read lots of Jane Austen, but I think I read Pride & Prejudice. I read Mrs. Dalloway, too.
Me: Whoa, whoa, whoa. You say you majored in English, that you THINK you read a book, even though you're in you mid 20s at the latest and would remember something like this, and you think Jane Austen wrote Mrs. Dalloway? When she wasn't even alive in the century the book came out? Did you GO to class? I mean, I could understand if you didn't qualify it with the majoring in English part, but COME ON. Stop being a poser and just admit you don't know -- it won't kill you.

OK I didn't say that, but I almost did when they were trying to figure out "that other Jane Austen movie with Gwyneth Paltrow," and they think their "smart" friend who's at the concession stand will know. And when the friend gets back they're all "$500 question -- What's the name of that Jane Austen movie with Gwyneth, the book that Clueless is based on?" and dude is all "Oh, it's Emily." EMILY. And it's even better when one of the other dudes was like "Oh yeah! I thought it was Emma or something."

Sigh.

Friday, January 06, 2006

Spreading the Good (Interlocking NY) Word Cubically

An exchange from earlier today:

Jason: calling over to the other side of the office in response to something OK, Cap'n!
Me: gives a slightly confuzzled look because I think Art is technically our captain, but whatever
Jason: Don't worry, KB, I meant that in a Cap'n Crunch sort of way, not in a Derek Jeter sort of way.

This -- along with Rana's watching the playoffs and getting all invested in it, and Mona the Met fan admitting that she never thought she could be friends with a Yankee fan until she met me -- is proof right here that my colonization of Yankee Nation effort is starting to take root. Now if only I can get Art (already a Yankee fan, so no conversion necessary there) to let us all ditch work and take a field trip up to the Bronx for the next Yankee weekday game, I'd say my mission would be going way excellently...

Thursday, January 05, 2006

Shut Up, Book

So I just read "Something Borrowed" even though I've kind of chucked Chick Lit to the side because the genre follows the same cookie-cutter formula nowadays. This book sounded a bit different -- a woman sleeps with her best friend's fiance a few months before the wedding and then realizes she's in love with the guy. I'm all "sounds like this could be messy!" And I liked the idea of having an unsympathetic plot device (cheating) happen to the main character, because a good writer would have found ways to make the character sympathetic, and that's tough. But...it didn't happen. Because the ways in which we are supposed to join the narrator's point of view worked in reverse for me -- I ended up rooting against her, and that's never happened before.

Why? Well, firstly, we get a character who is pretty much spineless, and her best friend is an utter cliché "user" who walked all over her. Or at least I think that's what I was supposed to think. We see how the best friend bride-to-be has always made their friendship a competition, and how the narrator has always put up with it. Hmm. Anyway, we're supposed to be on the narrator's side when she drunkenly sleeps with the best friend's fiance (whom she had introduced to the best friend, no less) and then decides she can't live her life without him. But it's all good because the best friend bride is flawed, and therefore we should look past the whole sleeping with her man thing. I mean, flawed people deserve to have their fiance's stolen, right? Right!

I. Loathed. This. Narrator. She spends the whole book thinking she deserves happiness because she was too busy being walked all over before. Right, that's the reason right there -- you were spineless and that's everyone else's fault and not your own. And when you realize you've been a doormat and go for what you want, you go about it half-assedly. Also, we're supposed to feel that the narrator is truly, madly, deeply in love with this guy, and he with her, when every time she describes their meetings...it's all about the sex. There isn't much fleshing out the actual relationship part, just the physical. Then, all the narrator does is feel sorry for herself and doesn't do anything about it -- she just can't get over the fact that she's unattached. Oh, you're 30 and not married and I'm supposed to feel sorry for you...why exactly? Are you terminally ill? Did somebody you love just die? Are you suffering from some kind of depression? Did you lose your job? What? You mean you can live a normal everyday existence despite the fact that you're, oh my god, single? Yeah, you are not getting an ounce of sympathy from me you whiny bitch.

Also -- the fiance. Man, what a drip. He claims he's always liked the narrator, since they were in law school, but felt the narrator (with her EXTREMELY low-self esteem, also a grating trait because I think it's supposed to be used, again, for sympathy. It would be one thing if she grew past it and learned that she can be OK with herself, but she doesn't -- it's all about getting the guy that makes her feel good about herself. BARF.) wasn't interested in him, so he never made a move. So when the narrator introduces him to her best friend, he's not really that intrigued, but asks the best friend out anyway, and seven years later proposes to her, even though it's more of a going-through-the-motions thing and not because of his undying love for her. OH SPARE ME. He knew he didn't love this woman, yet he proposes to her. What a guy! When he gets his chance to leave his fiancee, he doesn't do it until it's almost too late, yet this is worthy of praise. I guess he was just truly conflicted and couldn't figure out what he wanted because he's such a good guy. *Rolls eyes*

There is also a convenient cop out with what happens to the best-friend-bride-to-be, making her look more one-note bitch than a character with any depth. The author made some weak attempts at making her look human, but in the end I think she backed off because she wanted us to hate her and take some heat off the narrator's actions. LIKE THAT HAPPENS IN REAL LIFE. Give me a story where all the parties involved are likeable, actually angst over what they're doing because they feel guilty (both the narrator and fiance explicitly say they don't feel bad about cheating, ANOTHER reason why I didn't find this believable) and deal with their actions and the reactions of others. Because I'm pretty sure I'd have actual sympathy for characters who are capable of having it themselves.

Whew! I'm kind of glad I read it because I haven't despised characters like this in a long time...hence why it got an entire blog post.

Wednesday, January 04, 2006

Are You There God? It's Me, KB.

If you, like, run a media watch-dog site, shouldn't you have the slightest bit of a grasp on grammar? You know, recognize the difference between "to" and "too" or "its" and "it's"? Oh, silly me. I forgot that being a fucking, mean-ass jackhole (and being completely WRONG about the subject you're "reporting" about) is more important in getting the story across.

If I could scream anything into our "pipeline to god" at the moment, it's that the "writers" who stir up rumors and add their own unecessarily malicious comments get a big old kick in the crotch sometime soon. And maybe suffer a blow to the head by a rogue floating dictionary, perhaps of the Oxford English variety.

Tuesday, January 03, 2006

Fright Night

My department's power to summon things is beginning to frighten me a bit. Like, in the past three days alone, we've managed to bring about Lindsay Lohan's "asthma attack," conjure Peter Schilling's Major Tom on digital cable music channels and beckon long-ass Jennifer Grey movies about the America's Cup to suddenly air, among other things. I'm just going to keep my trap shut for awhile, because it's bordering on scary.

lionelandkenny-1-189x85
I did not summon this, however...

Also majorly freaking me out is Kenny Rogers....EEEEEEEEK! Tonya lent me the CMT Crossroads special starring Lionel Richie and the Gambler himself, and I can't tell if Kenny has just gotten old or just gotten some really AWFUL plastic surgery. It looks like taxidermy Kenny Rogers is up on the stage. I mean, where did his eyes go?!?

Nightmares, I tell you.

Monday, January 02, 2006

The First Post of 2006 -- Woo!

Snatched this from Yankeebob because what better way to start a year than with a meme?

1. What did you do in 2005 that you’d never done before?
I went to a Red Sux game at Fenway. I think I deserved some kind of medal for that.

2. Did you keep your New Year’s resolutions, and will you make more for next year?
I haven't made a New Year's resolution in years.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?
No, but a good friend is pregnant.

4. Did anyone close to you die?
The A-Rod Basil and El Capitan Parsley. Again. Sigh.

5. What countries did you visit?
Boston. It was seriously a bit of culture shock.

6. What would you like to have in 2006 that you lacked in 2005?
A column from Lupicass about how wrong he was to bash A-Rod, especially after he is voted World Series MVP.

7. What date from 2005 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?
July 14. I started my new job and that night A-Rod took Curtass deep to win the game for the Yanks.

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?
Getting a new job after sitting on my content ass for too long at the old one.

9. What was your biggest failure?
Not talking to that guy in the Nationals hat on the PATH around Halloween.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?
Just a nice upper respitory infection in August.

11. What was the best thing you bought?
My season tickets.

12. Whose behavior merited celebration?
Anyone in the Yankee clubhouse for not throttling Kim Jones in post-game interviews.

13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?
No one really, but I did lose respect for some people after seeing how they treat others.

14. Where did most of your money go?
After rent and food, Yankee games. How odd.

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?
Going to Opening Night and the playoffs; our office parties; Hoboken Idol; American Idol...shut up.

16. What song will always remind you of 2005?
For better or worse, Hollaback Girl.

17. Compared to this time last year, are you happier or sadder?
Much happier.

18. What do you wish you’d done more of?
Writing.

19. What do you wish you’d done less of?
Remote control throwing.

20. How did you spend Christmas?
With my parents, both sides of my family, The Chicken and the troll under the Verrazano Bridge.

21. How will you spend New Year’s?
I spent it with Ken, Rana, Erica and all the f'ing hot guys in Newport. Talk about an untapped resource...

22. Did you fall in love in 2005?
Lots of crushes, but no twu wuvs.

23. How many one-night stands?
BWAH! Please, my parents read this thing.

24. What was your favorite TV program?
As much as I loved discovering Veronica Mars and Grey's Anatomy in 2005, I don't think I was as into any show EVER as I was with American Idol.

25. Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year?
I don't hate anyone, but I have lost respect for some people.

26. What was the best book you read?
Life of Pi and Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince

27. What was your greatest musical discovery?
Either the Soundman segment at Yankee games (I hope to god they bring this back next year, and make lots more of them) or Jason, who is like a walking jukebox, complete with the indiest of indie music to the Four Tops.

28. What did you want and get?
The new job.

29. What was your favorite CD of this year?
I didn't really listen to the radio much this year or feel compelled to go out and buy anyone's album, but I have yet to dislike any of the songs that I've heard of Kelly Clarkson's recent CD.

30. What was your favorite film of this year?
Harry Potter and The Goblet of Fire

31. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?
We celebrated my 28th with the second-annual Hoboken Idol, of course.

32. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?
To have been right about a gut feeling, which ended up being wrong.

33. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2005?
Reef flip-flops rock my world. Thanks to Carolyn for suggesting them.

34. What kept you sane?
My iPod.

35. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?
Um, I think A-Fed wins that one hands down, wouldn't you say?

36. What political issue stirred you the most?
The Hoboken mayoral candidates unapologetically stalking voters, especially at the bus stop -- that "stirred" my ass. Oh yeah, and the whole "Bischer family" thing on any mail I'd get from said candidates --don't go assuming I'm a head of "family" or something just because I'm the only one registered to vote in Hoboken in my apartment. Corrupt assholes.

37. Whom do you miss?
Not Sasquatch.

38. Who was the best new person that you met?
The peeps in my department.

39. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2005:
Banging a broom on the ceiling will curb your neighbor's hyperactive use of a rolling chair on a hardwood floor at 2 a.m.

40. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year:
"Some pages turned,
Some bridges burned,
But there were lessons learned." -- Lessons Learned, Carrie Underwood