Discombobulation Station

Strangeways

Happy New Year everyone! Hope your celebrations were delightful.

We had our new-normal 3 Christmases and one long car ride down to shoreline Connecticut.

Have you ever been to Connecticut? It's mostly just a suburb of NYC with extra dashes of strip malls and violence but some parts are quite pretty. We took a drive out to East Podunk for drinks one night and dudes! I realized Connecticut is also secretly totally weird.

Hark upon these road names:

Baker (yes, JUST Baker)

Cream Pot Road (aw, my lil creampot!)

Buttonball Lane (WTF is a buttonball?)

Airline Road (where the in-laws live)

Cow Hill Road (where the FYD grew up)

Roast Meat Hill Road (just....gross)

And the winner:

Duck Hole Road.

Seriously! DUCK HOLE.

I guess there weren't any 12-year-old boys on the road naming committee.

xoxo, A

Television is On.

It's January what-th? Seriously? No. Way.

But it is. It's beyond the middle of the month, which means it is pretty much February, and that means it is almost spring! Right? Please? Ah, but no.  We've just had the prettiest big snow. The slog continues.

I shall warn you now, this post is going to be an exercise in stream of consciousness randomness. It's just been a while and I feel like I Have So Much to Say! Like, right now, I just want to remark upon the shittiness of James Cameron's Golden Globes acceptance speech. Meryl Streep, on the other hand, is made of class. I want to be her when I grow up. 

And THEN let's address CNN's coverage of the Haiti disaster. Other than Dr. Gupta, who is awesome, the reporters are just so...dumb. "This is so hard to cover," they keep saying, and yet the cameras, they do not turn away. You know what, I get it. It is awful, horrible, terrible, and my heart is broken in a million pieces for those poor people. But after a while, the relentless coverage makes me go a bit numb. Maybe I need a media break, or maybe I have built up a protective candy coating because I have this wee one slumbering in her crib. My rewired mama-brain cannot take too much misery.

But THEN I have to say how awesome is it that it is as simple as sending a text to help? So awesome. Thanks, technology.

So. Erf. I runned out of steam. I do have other things to say about hands, snow, and being social. I'll just leave you in suspense on that twaddle.

xo, A

Do Not Read This, for It Stinks. It's Kind of about TV.

Because I know you are dying to know, tonight I made beef stir fry. I tweaked the recipe from something I found online, in the process discovering "the secret for beef stir fry is frying the beef in a cup of oil." A WHOLE CUP OF OIL. Nuts.  I would never. What would you do with all that goddamn hot oil? Thankfully, we didn't even have any oil,  so I wasn't tempted. I sprayed Pam on the wok and it was still very good.  So fie on you, internet recipes.

Speaking of Pam, have we ever talked about The Office? One night years ago the Irish Carpenter introduced me to the BBC version.  It was...uncomfortable at first. And then, suddenly, something in your brain switches and everything is HILARIOUS. It is not the same watching the NBC version, which is funny from the get go, but not as HILARIOUS because you don't have to pass through that discomfort zone. It's sort of like Ricky Gervais makes you earn the funny. Steve Carrell, on the other hand, is just funny. I mean, look at him! He's just one of those people who look funny. I often randomly say "I stabbed a man in the HEART!"  Just 'cause. I suppose there is some larger theme, about the subtlety of British humor vs. blunt American comedy but I don't think I am in the proper mental state to draw that one out.  Plus, some British stuff is as unsubtle as all get out. Say...Little Britain? Whackadoo. Now my argument is all effed up. Rats.

And NOW I have to publish this crap-ass post without any links because Typepad seems to be broken and the text editor is not working.  I don't have the gumption to use my trident on Typepad. 

Hope you all had super Saturdays.  I will try my hardest to be more interesting tomorrow.

xoxo, A

Oh Yes Indeed

Like every good American, I finally started watching TV last year. Like, a lot of TV. Like, when we are in the house the TV is on. And then when we leave the house we leave the TV on for the dog. He watches Animal Planet.

But unlike in my previous years of TV viewing, when thirtysomething and ER were events, I now find myself woefully unable to watch any scripted TV (except for Lipstick Jungle, which is truly terrible but fills the SATC void, and I can't wait until it is canceled and done and I BLAME YOU SUSIE).  Typically I put on the Food Network or quality Bravo programming (phrase credit to E.) and let 'er rip. Food Network and the elliptical machine at the gym is a great combo, as is lying on the couch, with Floyd the greyhound, watching Dancing with the Stars. 

Does anyone else watch that one? I find it irresistible and even had it on last night during the interminable run-up to those penultimate finale dances. MAN those network reality shows really know how to drag out a finale, don't they. NO we don't want to watch the robot children dance. NO we don't want to see your hyper-edited season recaps. NO NO NO JUST SHOW THE DANCES AND THE JUDGING.

But anyway. Maybe it's because I haven't danced on stage for such a long time but watching those B-listers dance their hearts out brings me close to tears every time. It's just so...charming.

And it is a testament to my love for this show that I am rooting for Brooke Wild On!, simply because she is by far the best dancer. And a testament to my being a Very Secure Person that I am still rooting for her after the FYC confessed his great admiration for Ms. Burke (he doesn't watch the show, he just comes in and makes comments and then goes away. He watches Top Chef and Project Runway so we shan't complain). I am still afraid her boobs might explode on stage. Or at least leap out of her costume and frighten the children. There was some shimmying happening last night that made me want to cover Floyd's eyes.

What was really frightening is that I was compelled to wiki and found out she has FOUR kids and a blog, and, apparently, a mild aversion to spell-check.

But we are not here to judge her writing. We are here to judge her awesome MOVES!! Seriously, there are some lifts in there that are wonders of nature. Watch and be AMAZED.

xoxo, A

All the Way Home

****UPDATE! UPDATE!****

We are pleased to report a happy ending for the wandering porker. Who, is, of course, not acceptable as pork whatsoever. Or as a plaything for a pig roast. Boy, college students sure are dumb.

xoxo, A

ORIGINAL POST:

Who else watched Top Chef this season? It was so on - from the Chicago setting to the beastly Lisa to the actual talents of the other two finalists, I just ate it up! With a spoon! And some wasabi-white chocolate sauce on top!

(wah ha ha, extendo-Bravo-style pun in homage)

Anyway, stumbled on the reunion show last night. My personal fave, Richard Blaise, had to join via video, 'cause at the time his adorable progeny had not yet sprung. Love him, love his funny cooking and find myself imitating his scrunchy pained cooking face. And people! Master Blaise has STOLEN my dream restaurant name! Oh well. He can has it. I can has less funy harz k thks bai!

Oh, wait, no bai yet. Speaking of "home," I wanted to also share with you an awesome piece of journalism from my local rag. Not sure what it is, maybe writing in a small market for a big owner is liberating or something (JenG?) but...just please look at this story: it's adorable.

You can bet this little piggie will not be gunned down by...oh, I won't even go there.

Oink!

Have lovely weekends, ya'lls.

xoxo, A

Do Your Thing On the Runway

So D-Station East Coast was in D.C. earlier this week, advocating for increased federal funding for medical research for lupus, a really sucky disease. It was a very successful event, and I got conjunctivitis. And then I got home in spite of some supremely craptastic weather, to continue preparations for Operation Cohabitation. And then I went to my monthly meeting for this school that we're building under the NEW green building codes. And I (along with Floyd the greyhound) rescued a puppy, and (without Floyd the greyhound) made some really frickin delicious muffins.

And of course there is a lot going on in the world. But, OMG, the most important thing that happened this week? By far? This, my fierce and fabulous friends:

Enjoy (muchas gracias to youtuber parcelforce for the gank) and see if it don't make you a wee bit weepy. I know the wee twink had some haters, but it is cute when he BURSTS into tears. And his stuff IS freakishly beautiful. Anyway! Have a good weekend!

xoxo, A

Why Don't You Go Where Fashion Sits or Whatever The Heck The Lyric Is

Dudes! I had a whole awesome thing planned for youse today but got foiled by TECHNOLOGY.  Hopefully I will be able to do it tomorrow because it is AWESOME.

(have you noticed I am unable to STOP with the CAPS lately?? Have no IDEAR what that's about, other than perhaps my exhaustion borne of retail plus a little bit of WINE)

Anyway. One weird thing about my new life is that I actually watch TV. I know, crazy, right? My FYC got me hooked on the CNN during the day, and then my new roomie likes her shows. And of course there are sports. So in front of the boob tube I find myself. And there are certainly some fun and good things on the TV, but then...

The dress is at least $3 grand. The cake is $5 grand. The dresser (an employee, not a piece of furniture) is $500 to help with the shoes. Her necklace is like 1/4 mill. And they're not even FAMOUS. She keeps talking about how she wants to 'feel like a princess.'  Isn't that weird and sort of...well, weird? I mean, the woman is in her 40s, marrying a man with a couple of kids, and she wants to be a princess. She wants to be Cinderella. It just seems outlandish and inappropriate. But who am I to judge? OH WAIT. I'm a blogger! Judge judge JUDGE! It's my JOB.

Anyway, have you guys seen what I mean? It's an abomination amongst many abominations on WE.  It's Platinum Weddings. It's the most ridiculous thing I have ever seen. But that's probably because I don't have MTV. Does any one else get this?

xo, A

Then I'll Have Candy All the Time

My blogger sister has mentioned VH1 Classic's awesomeness before, but my new most favorite thing in the world is the 'replays' of 120 Minutes.

Do yourself a favor, if you have cable. Stay up late and watch it just like you used to (or, like my friends used to - I had to wait to watch the videotaped recording at my friend Shelley's house because I had such a prohibitively early goddamn CURFEW It's so UNFAIR you don't UNDERSTAND! Everyone ELSE gets to stay up LATE!! I HATE YOU SHRIEEEEK!!! *door slam*)

Anyway. Watch 120 Minutes. For reals, it's special. A few weeks ago the FYC and I experienced something akin to spiritual transcendence or whatever you would call it if two people getting to know each other in a rather impetuous fashion, rather intoxicated late one Saturday night, dancing in one's living room suddenly, over a moment of mutual singing of The Smiths lyrics, become like, well, you, know, like, totally ONE. Awesome.

It's possible. Alternative music videos make it POSSIBLE.

xo, A

p.s. This post made possible by the dregs of my cold, a 10-hour workday, a large whiskey and soda, and something else that I cannot mention or my dad would be mad.

Lump Lingered Last in Line for Brains

We're watching the Hillary-Barack show the Democratic debates and it's already a shouty ol' mess.  Dems getting feisty! Biden's rather hilariously and particularly caustic. Sigh. Maybe this tough talk will last for the next 400 or so days!

Politics aside, I must address a serious issue facing Americans. As some of you may know, I am beginning a job in the world of retail (for the first time in my life!) tomorrow.  This company has probably a very typical dress code: white polo or oxford shirt, khaki pants, and brown or black shoes.

Since I have been a 'fancy business lady' for so many years, and haven't lived in fucking BOSTON for as long, I no longer own khakis. Easy-peasy to fix though, right? Just run down to ye olde Target or Old Navy and stock 'em up!

WRONG. Democratic candidates for President, I ask you:

WHERE ARE ALL THE KHAKIS? AND WHITE POLOS??

I went to Target AND Old Navy AND the Gap, (and looked in the windows of Express, Ann Taylor Loft, and effing Abercrombie and Fitch!) burning precious natural resources (gasoline, my sanity) and found nary a white POLO (all the polos at Old Navy had stripes, or dragons on them!) and a dishearteningly SMALL number of acceptable khakis.

IS THIS NOT AMERICA? Land of  the free, etc.? If we cannot have white polos even in November in Maine, are we truly free? Can I not spend my hard-earned dollars on proletariat garb as I desire?

WE, the citizens of, err, the East End of Portland Maine, demand ANSWERS!

xo, A

p.s. obtrusive italics brought to you by The Society of Compulsive Readers of John Irving.

A Show About Beer or Something?

My awesome friend Michael Snow is the funniest person. For reals, he's the funniest person EVAH in the history of ha-ha.  Once you meet him you'll see this is not even a slight exaggeration.

Watch him be HI-larious on promos for The Big Gay Sketch Show on Logo, the Big Gay Network!

Hooray for Michael Snow!

xo, A