Well, this may be the last post until next week or so. I’m headed off for a trip with my parents to . . . gasp . . . Branson. I know. Ye gods. Though I loves me some Dolly Parton and I have a soft spot for classic country novelty tunes (Painted Flowers on the Wall, Harper Valley PTA, King of the Road, Convoy), most country music, and especially bluegrass, makes me want to slap myself in the head repeatedly with a large catfish. And I have only a very limited tolerance for the nativity scene with the baby Jesus wrapped in the American flag aesthetic that Branson specializes in. And it’s flipping cold right now in the Ozarks. Cheese Whiz. What was I thinking? I’m headed for the hillbilly mother ship.
Well, what I was thinking was that I’d get to spend some quality time with my folks. And they LOVE the Branson. They’ve got a time share just outside town and season passes to Silver Dollar City. The whole shmear. As my sister points out, this is the chance to get to be the “only child”. Which is pretty much the Holy Grail for kids with multiple siblings. I don’t have to share my Mommy and Daddy with snotty-nosed siblings for a whole week. Regardless of the fact that my sibs haven’t been snotty-nosed brats in a long time. At least 2 or 3 years (har har, hi, Sis!). But just kickin’ it old school with the folks does sound kind of nice.
To prepare myself for the trip, I’m getting my little busy bag (hey, they aren't only for 5-year olds) ready for the car: books, yarn project, cross-word puzzles. And my iPod. Given that my parents will be listening to “Classic Bluegrass” all the way to Missouri (because they think that some of those new bluegrass musicians just go too far), I’m going to have my earphones jammed so far in my ears, they’ll be touching my brain. And I’ve told my folks that I can amuse myself while they go to It’s Only Make Believe: The Conway Twitty Musical (I swear I did not make that up). The only show I’m at all interested in is Yakov Smirnov. If I’m going to Branson, I’m going to darned well see Yakov.
So, as usual, I’ll take lots of mental notes, and if I can remember my camera for once, a few pictures. If I don’t get to talk to you, hope y’all have a great week.
Monday, October 20, 2008
Friday, October 17, 2008
Reading Rainbow
Today is one of those days where, quite unfairly, resent being at work. It's not work's fault that it pales in comparison to what I'd rather be doing. Which is finishing the first book of the Orphan's Tales by Catherynne Valente. Oh, mygodsogood. You know when something is so good that your brain just stalls for just a second? That good.
The story is this interlocking series of stories (folk stories, fairy tales, sagas?) that chain out, then loop, then forge out into a new direction, that once you turn a bend you find is not as new as you first think. I finsished the first part of the book, thinking "damn, the second part can't be this good." And I was wrong. There was a moment this morning as the train pulled near my stop, when something happened in the story and my eyes glazed over and I couldn't form a coherent thought. Then I nearly screamed because in about 15 seconds I was going to have to close the book. Damn real life and all of its inconveniences.
The story is this interlocking series of stories (folk stories, fairy tales, sagas?) that chain out, then loop, then forge out into a new direction, that once you turn a bend you find is not as new as you first think. I finsished the first part of the book, thinking "damn, the second part can't be this good." And I was wrong. There was a moment this morning as the train pulled near my stop, when something happened in the story and my eyes glazed over and I couldn't form a coherent thought. Then I nearly screamed because in about 15 seconds I was going to have to close the book. Damn real life and all of its inconveniences.
Doubt
So last night I went to the Free Night of Theater. It’s this thing that’s done in about 100 cities around the country, where theaters offer free tickets to get people out seeing live performance. Or if you do go to shows, go to a theater that you haven’t been to before. That would be me. So I got tickets for a show at the WaterTower in Addison. I’ve been meaning to see one of their shows before, but you know how you just never get around to stuff? But since this involved my favorite four-letter word beginning with ‘F’ (free!), I made the effort.
The play was Doubt. It’s in the same play cycle as Defiance, which I saw a few weeks ago at Theatre 3. It’s about a nun who suspects that her school’s priest is “interfering” with a male student. You’re never supposed to know for sure how much you should trust anyone’s perceptions or assumptions in the show.
And I decided 5 minutes in to the show that I would have been a better audience if I hadn’t had 2 teachers who “interfered” with female students when I was a teenager. (My niece, who went to the show with me, asked me, “Where the heck did you go to school?” Unfortunately, it seems in this regard, no place all that unusual.) Not that I was one of their victims. Turns out there actually are advantages to being a goofy looking, overly-cynical teenager. But the fact that I’d seen 2 of these people in operation kind of colored my reactions to everything the priest said or did. I never held any doubts. I was on the nun’s side from jump street.
Not that not being the ideal objective observer made the show un-enjoyable. The play itself balances light and dark, using humor to both draw you into the drama, and to throw it into darker contrast in the harsher moments. The actors were all very good. The nun was played as one of those tough old birds who ends up isolated by her need to do things the right way. By the end of the show, I just wanted somebody to reach out to her because she was breaking my heart. (I’ve heard that Doubt will be in theaters fairly soon, starring Meryl Streep as the nun. And I can tell you right now, La Streep will rock balls in that role.) The priest on the other hand, was one of those characters that I have trouble separating the actor from the role. It’s probably to his credit that by the end I wanted to jump on stage and push his face in. Objectivity was completely out the window.
The play was Doubt. It’s in the same play cycle as Defiance, which I saw a few weeks ago at Theatre 3. It’s about a nun who suspects that her school’s priest is “interfering” with a male student. You’re never supposed to know for sure how much you should trust anyone’s perceptions or assumptions in the show.
And I decided 5 minutes in to the show that I would have been a better audience if I hadn’t had 2 teachers who “interfered” with female students when I was a teenager. (My niece, who went to the show with me, asked me, “Where the heck did you go to school?” Unfortunately, it seems in this regard, no place all that unusual.) Not that I was one of their victims. Turns out there actually are advantages to being a goofy looking, overly-cynical teenager. But the fact that I’d seen 2 of these people in operation kind of colored my reactions to everything the priest said or did. I never held any doubts. I was on the nun’s side from jump street.
Not that not being the ideal objective observer made the show un-enjoyable. The play itself balances light and dark, using humor to both draw you into the drama, and to throw it into darker contrast in the harsher moments. The actors were all very good. The nun was played as one of those tough old birds who ends up isolated by her need to do things the right way. By the end of the show, I just wanted somebody to reach out to her because she was breaking my heart. (I’ve heard that Doubt will be in theaters fairly soon, starring Meryl Streep as the nun. And I can tell you right now, La Streep will rock balls in that role.) The priest on the other hand, was one of those characters that I have trouble separating the actor from the role. It’s probably to his credit that by the end I wanted to jump on stage and push his face in. Objectivity was completely out the window.
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Project Runway - the last blast
Yep, I'm calling it the last blast. Cause when PR ends up in it's new home, all bets are off. Will it still have the same flavor out from under of the Bravo umbrella? I have no confidence. I'm going to consider the next season an entirely new show and try to keep my expectations under control.
So, now that I've taken up some space and can get into the spoilage. Kenley gets her well-deserved comeuppance. And let that be a lesson to you, young lady - the dapper uber-mensch/fashion maven that you're lippy to today could be judging your crazy-ass collection tomorrow. That's right. D'oh! And her collection was kind of crazy-ass. Cute. But cra-zazy. 2 looks into her collection and I knew she was going to sailing away in her kooky hats on whatever Good Ship Lollipop she spends most of her mental time. And frankly, the hand-painted dress that they said looked like Balenciaga? I think the judges were being kind. It didn't look Balenciaga. It looked like the My Michelle dress that they put out every year for about half of the late 80s and early 90s. In fact, I owned about 3 of them. Purple, floral, poofy shoulders, fitted waist. I remember them well. Those who don't remember fashion nightmares are doomed to relive them.
Korto on the other hand - the colors! There were two green dresses in that line that I would have given my left eyeball for. And been a happy one-eyed camper. She had some fabulous looks. All after giving the nail-biter moment of the show - two new looks? Damn. That's balls. And overall, I thought I might be looking at the winner.
Until LeeAnne's collection came into view. Wow. Chic. Gorgeous. Architectural. Innovative. I just was blown away by the way each piece had a distinctive silhouette when standing still, but moved in exactly the waves that were her inspiration when going down the runway. Spectacular. And when only doubt that the judges have is whether you can top something good? I knew she had it nailed. For me, possibly the best overall collection of the series.
And on two wrap-up notes: 1) Thinking of possibly changing my name to Petals, thanks to Michael Kors. 2) When LeeAnne busts out with "Drinks are on this brother!", did anybody else look at the other people watching with you (in my case imaginary people), and say "Did she just say that?" Almost as weird as that PR archive tidbit of Stella Leatha giving birth to a red corseted Blayne. Definitely hitting the mental delete key on that one.
So, that's it. Until the next (hopefully not radically altered) season. See y'all then. Same Bat Time. Different Bat Channel.
So, now that I've taken up some space and can get into the spoilage. Kenley gets her well-deserved comeuppance. And let that be a lesson to you, young lady - the dapper uber-mensch/fashion maven that you're lippy to today could be judging your crazy-ass collection tomorrow. That's right. D'oh! And her collection was kind of crazy-ass. Cute. But cra-zazy. 2 looks into her collection and I knew she was going to sailing away in her kooky hats on whatever Good Ship Lollipop she spends most of her mental time. And frankly, the hand-painted dress that they said looked like Balenciaga? I think the judges were being kind. It didn't look Balenciaga. It looked like the My Michelle dress that they put out every year for about half of the late 80s and early 90s. In fact, I owned about 3 of them. Purple, floral, poofy shoulders, fitted waist. I remember them well. Those who don't remember fashion nightmares are doomed to relive them.
Korto on the other hand - the colors! There were two green dresses in that line that I would have given my left eyeball for. And been a happy one-eyed camper. She had some fabulous looks. All after giving the nail-biter moment of the show - two new looks? Damn. That's balls. And overall, I thought I might be looking at the winner.
Until LeeAnne's collection came into view. Wow. Chic. Gorgeous. Architectural. Innovative. I just was blown away by the way each piece had a distinctive silhouette when standing still, but moved in exactly the waves that were her inspiration when going down the runway. Spectacular. And when only doubt that the judges have is whether you can top something good? I knew she had it nailed. For me, possibly the best overall collection of the series.
And on two wrap-up notes: 1) Thinking of possibly changing my name to Petals, thanks to Michael Kors. 2) When LeeAnne busts out with "Drinks are on this brother!", did anybody else look at the other people watching with you (in my case imaginary people), and say "Did she just say that?" Almost as weird as that PR archive tidbit of Stella Leatha giving birth to a red corseted Blayne. Definitely hitting the mental delete key on that one.
So, that's it. Until the next (hopefully not radically altered) season. See y'all then. Same Bat Time. Different Bat Channel.
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
The Soup is ON
So, my latest project – lunch. I’ve been really good since the beginning of the year about bringing my lunch to work. Better than ¾ of the time, I think. Partially financially motivated. It costs a lot to buy lunch. Partially health. Because I can’t be relied upon to make the sensible choice when I’m already hungry.
I went through a Lean Cuisine stage. But getting a frozen dinner to work still frozen is just kind of a hassle given my commute time. Then I went through a box noodles phase (Ming’s are way tasty, Taste of China not so much). But I started to worry about the amount of excess packaging those involve – paper and/or plastic outer wrapping, plus 2 to 3 plastic packages inside, plus the occasional spoon thrown in. And you have to be really careful about reading the label, because some of them have two (or more bizarrely 1 and a half) servings. Yeah, like I’m going to save half a serving for tomorrow. If it’s in front of me, I’m going to eat it, damn the calorie count. Now I’m doing the little paper soup cups, as in “peel back lid, add hot water to fill line, stir and enjoy!” (Always with the “enjoy!” I’ll be the judge of that, thank you.)
But then I’m looking at my cup of potato leek soup thinking, why can’t I do this? My semi-literate palate is picking up dried potato flakes, powdered milk, dried onion and carrot (leeks? Perhaps.) and possibly some sort of bouillon. Big whoop. I can do that. And a quick Google search for recipes pretty much confirms that any idiot (i.e., me) can make their own cup o’ soup. And put it in a handy, reusable cup for transport.
Cheap? Perhaps. Green? Potentially. A slightly silly DIY project that I can make into an entire evening of slapstick fun? Mos’ definitely. I’ve found a fairly edible sounding instant potato soup recipe. If anybody has one that’s for other flavor (esp. interested in tomato or pea), pass it on along.
I went through a Lean Cuisine stage. But getting a frozen dinner to work still frozen is just kind of a hassle given my commute time. Then I went through a box noodles phase (Ming’s are way tasty, Taste of China not so much). But I started to worry about the amount of excess packaging those involve – paper and/or plastic outer wrapping, plus 2 to 3 plastic packages inside, plus the occasional spoon thrown in. And you have to be really careful about reading the label, because some of them have two (or more bizarrely 1 and a half) servings. Yeah, like I’m going to save half a serving for tomorrow. If it’s in front of me, I’m going to eat it, damn the calorie count. Now I’m doing the little paper soup cups, as in “peel back lid, add hot water to fill line, stir and enjoy!” (Always with the “enjoy!” I’ll be the judge of that, thank you.)
But then I’m looking at my cup of potato leek soup thinking, why can’t I do this? My semi-literate palate is picking up dried potato flakes, powdered milk, dried onion and carrot (leeks? Perhaps.) and possibly some sort of bouillon. Big whoop. I can do that. And a quick Google search for recipes pretty much confirms that any idiot (i.e., me) can make their own cup o’ soup. And put it in a handy, reusable cup for transport.
Cheap? Perhaps. Green? Potentially. A slightly silly DIY project that I can make into an entire evening of slapstick fun? Mos’ definitely. I’ve found a fairly edible sounding instant potato soup recipe. If anybody has one that’s for other flavor (esp. interested in tomato or pea), pass it on along.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
