The Dreaded Jelly Omelet

Posted on May 12, 2012 by

So my little brother Eric turns 21 today! In honor, I am reposting a story that foreshadowed his shunning of eggs!

In the Summer of ’92, Eric was one year plus a few months. I was almost 17. My mom had gone back to work part-time for the summer, so three days out of the week, I got my domestic on. Watched Eric all day, and cooked dinner for the family. I loved the cooking part, and also cooked breakfast for Eric. It was a great arrangement, seeing as I’d always been fascinated by breakfast foods, but really didn’t like eating any of them, especially eggs.

And Eric was such a happy little eater! Every culinary delight I put in front of him, he ate cheerfully, grateful to me, his Big Sister The Provider.

Until one day. One day that the Cooking for Kids book got it all wrong. It sounded intriguing. I mean, just because I didn’t like eggs meant that a jelly omelet wouldn’t be outstanding! And perfect for kids!

But see, that was my problem. I’d transitioned out of that “I’m good with kids because I understand them” place and gone to the dark side of “I’m good with kids because I know what’s good for them.” Wrong.

Despite all the warning bells going off in my head, screaming that there was no way this was going to work, I went forward, and did my best with the recipe. I’m great with recipes! Although I’d never had anything come out this *color* before. It wouldn’t be false to say that the omelet turned out gray, or green, or blue, or the color of nightmares and death. Any and all would be an accurate description.

And God bless Eric. Most days, no matter what ridiculously ambitious concoction I placed in front of him (one day, there were crepes!), he beamed at me in thanks before tasting it.

Not today.

He gazed at the omelet in what can only be described as abject horror. Dismay, even. Then he looked up at me with a “Surely you can’t be serious!” expression of panic.

Because I’d gone to the Dark Side of Dumb Adults, I laughed.

“No no, Eric!” I cooed. “It looks a little weird, but it tastes GREAT!” and pretended to eat some.

His look was dubious, but Eric was a good sport. He tried the omelet. Then made the most awesome face, like a girl in a movie trying to be rebellious and swigging from a liquor bottle, or like a Survivor eating fly-encrusted brains.

“Really? It’s not good? Come on, try some more.” I coaxed.

Eric flat out refused. Which was really telling, because he was basically a human garbage disposal. To this day, I don’t know exactly what went wrong with the jelly omelet. Most people respond to this with, “Um, what went wrong was that it was a jelly omelet.” Touché.

So I will take this milestone birthday as an opportunity to publicly apologize for feeding you a jelly omelet, Eric. Also for the time when I left you on the bicycle baby seat in front of Deli-Boy and the bike tipped over and you fell to the ground. Also for the time when you were four and I served you chicken fingers at Red Lobster on a burning-hot plate, and you cried.

Happy birthday!!!

Click here to visit and like Eric’s awesome band’s Facebook page!

 

Posted in Books, Childhood, Family, Food, Miscellaneous, Women | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Cupcakes, Wine, or Beer?

Posted on May 8, 2012 by

So we’re speeding towards that time of year
To the day that marks that you’re not here

~ Azure Ray


It’s been a year. Today, it’s been a year, since.

I’d never lived in any other state in my entire life, besides New York. My biggest move before a year ago was 260 miles to Oneonta. Upstate, but still New York.

I’m a native New Yorker,  and proud of it. If you can make it there, you can make it anywhere, but why would you want to live anywhere else?

But a year ago today, May 7, I left. Goodbye not to sunflowers, but to great pizza.*

To real bagels.

To my grandmother.

To the place and person I called home for years.

A year ago today was probably the hardest day of my entire life, and while we may be discussing first world problems, for me, that is saying a lot.

But it needed to happen. And a year ago today, after saying goodbye and I love you to my family that stayed on Long Island, after hugging them, and after watching at least one of their faces contort into sadness I couldn’t believe was because of me, I left.

Long Island got further away as the van drove towards JFK. And looking back, I don’t know how I did it. It helped that my mother was there, being the champion and savior that she’s always been to me. On the worst day of my life, I must say that I had a great time chilling at the airport with my mom, eating and drinking and being merry. For tomorrow…

And who knew, a year ago today, what tomorrow even meant, after I’d thrust every “today” into question.

Because I was leaving. Like, for realz-realz.

I’d talked on the phone to my BFF earlier, said H&G to my grandmother, aunt, and uncle and cousins. Brb, New York loved ones.

Even after awhile planning, even after so many tears, even after…everything. My heart still did not stop breaking and shattering that day.

Even after my dad randomly asked, after all the everything, once I’d arrived in Colorado Springs: “Judith. Do you want any cupcakes, wine, or beer?”

In that moment, it was the best question that anyone had ever asked me. Because it meant that after the break up, and the move, and the traumatization of my cats,

and the plane, and the lack of Xanax, and the back-of-plane-seat“Mean Girls,” after freezing on a couch weeks before because who knew that breaking up could be so freaking cold?

After all of that, I was home, at least in that moment.

And so it’s been a year…

I don’t know. Why this happened, why this is. Why I am here, and not there. But I know that I am healing. I know that for maybe the first time in my life, I care about healing.

Maybe this test will never end. Maybe the lighter days will not begin.

But it’s been a year. Since.

And I’m alive and I’m okay. Cupcakes, wine, and beer have commenced. Not to mention yellow roses from my dad. Thanks, Dad!!!

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So here’s to the next year. High fives and daps all around. And a huge, huge thank you, to the people that have voyeured and applauded. At least one guy from a year ago, from the group that my awesome and beloved friend Hurl made? Didn’t make it. RIP Mike; thanks for helping me move to Colorado – we shall meet and greet IR(S)L soon <3 Miss you every day.

Just – thank you. Everybody. Thank you for keeping me alive. Next decade, onward! Ftw — wherever it may be.

*I’m a total pizza snob, but Townhouse Lounge where I work, despite being in Colorado, has some KICKASS pizza. Not sure when we start carrying it officially, but it’s great.

Posted in Apartments & Other Domiciles, Cats, Childhood, Driving & Other Transportation, Family, Food, Friends, Miscellaneous, Movies, Romance, Women | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Goodbye, Cigarettes.

Posted on May 4, 2012 by

Repost because while I was not successful in the attempt after this blog, I’ve gone almost a month without them, and it feels different this time. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go climb a mountain! For added resolve and all :)

                

‘Cause I don’t know who I am,
who I am without you
All I know is that I should

~ Missy Higgins


As Jerry Seinfeld said, a breakup is like pushing over a soda machine. Smoking cigarettes is a relationship I honestly never wanted to break up. I do wince at pictures of blackened lungs, but my rebellious spirit really responded to the past decade’s or so vilification of cigarette smokers. I’m finally quitting, hooray, but it’s pretty emotional.

I know I shouldn’t smoke. But I’ve seen the light of the dark side of smoking, so it’s not as easy to leave as it may seem. Cigarettes feel like a friend. When everything is bad in the world, a smoke can make it better for a tiny bit of time. Sometimes, that feels like enough.

When I first learned to handle a cigarette, I felt a step cooler for the guy who taught me how to do it, that I was crushing on.

When I first learned to inhale, I was able to comfort myself in my car between college classes as I worried about the ambivalence of a different boy, and our subsequent breakup.

When I first learned that cigarettes squelched my appetite and made me feel jolly, I spent a summer trading Marlboro Lights and Metabolifes for junk food, and got slim, for me.

When I got my first boyfriend after various lonely attempts at Life Improvement including, but not limited to, the Metabolife/Marlboro summer, I freaked the fuck out and packed on the pounds.

When I lost that same person that I thought would be by my side forever, I smoked, and I smoked, and I smoked. And maybe it was bad for me, but God knows, did I need it.

When I spent the next seemingly endless year or so feeling that truly, it was my destiny to be unloved forever, cigarettes helped me say screw it, what else is out there. When all else failed, I could light up a smoke.

Cigarettes have been my constant for the past 10 years. 16 years, if you count non-inhaling posturing. They have been a shield, a shelter, a friend. I have new friends now. A better life, without smoking. I think. But no more smoking is a goodbye to an extremely treasured safety net.

Saying goodbye to cigarettes SUCKS. I don’t want to. But life is better now, and if ever there were a time…

And I think I can…I think I can…eventually I’ll know I can. I hope.

Posted in Body Image, Food, Going Out, Miscellaneous, Romance, Women | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 4 Comments

Intentionally Cheesy Movie Night 10: Two of a Kind

Posted on May 3, 2012 by

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Right off the bat, you sort of know what you’re getting into with this movie, because there are John Travolta and Olivia Newton-John on the root menu, smiling, with matching feathered hair and Olivia Newton-John in blue ’80s sunglasses. So brace yourselves.

I’d like to mention real fast that I was SO excited to see this movie when it came out. I was eight, and I loved “Grease,” and thought Olivia Newton-John was so pretty and sweet and had the most beautiful Australian accent! She reminded me of my mom. Not that my mom has an Australian accent (too bad). But all this is to say that when I saw this, on a near-empty airplane back when I still loved to fly, as an eight-year-old who loved all movies for the most part, even then I realized that this was not so good.

“Two of a Kind” opens with clouds and the “Hallelujah” chorus. Angels are playing golf and fighting about fried chicken. Anyway, they continue to fight as they arrive in the presence of that lady from “Poltergeist” who was one of those paranormal researchers, and I guess this lady existed in the ’80s to pal around with the boys, while providing much-needed feminine guidance.

Now here is God, who happens to be voiced by Gene Hackman! And he’s really mad, because everyone’s so crappy and he wants to start the world all over and he’s gonna flood the place, even though he promised not to. And the angels are like noooooo there are good people, and Gene Hackman is like, “Show me one good person.”

Oh I’d just like to point out that we never actually SEE Gene Hackman, or the movie would automatically be a little bit awesome. We just hear his voice. So he is saying to find one good person, as we –

– CUT! To John Travolta fully ON, like he is the complete mack DADDY in his purple shirt and blue sunglasses from the root menu and tight black pants and feathered hair. He is very, very dreamy, as should be obvious. And he is outside the Museum of Natural History, and Olivia Newton-John is singing on the soundtrack.

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Here are loan sharks! Since it was the ’80s and all. There are two, a Nice Loan Shark and a Mean Loan Shark, who is in charge. Mean Loan Shark holds up this really weird knife to John Travolta right in the middle of the day and I can’t even explain to you how fluffy Travolta’s hair is.

ONJ is singing about “desperate times!” on the soundtrack.

Oh, well, sure. John Travolta is an inventor – you know what, screw this. His name is Zack, and ONJ is named Debbie (obviously). So Zack is an inventor and that is going to be his Emotional Character Development vehicle, so just get used to this inventing, because it’s not going away. Remember in the ’80s, when everyone was an inventor, like Zack, and the dad from “Gremlins,” and that one dude who looked like Weird Al and came to my school that one time. I’d like to be an inventor. Anyway, Zack has a voice-activated pet food machine so he can act all cool when he feeds his…cat…and there is an automatic nutcracker for all of his important walnut needs throughout the day. Zack also has a rocking chair, but/therefore busts out with some rockin’ behavior, as he puts a Journey-esque record on, and gets his groove on in his tight pants.

New scene! Zack has a gun and is wearing a blonde wig and a mustache and says the word “foxy.” Because he is a scammer who robs places.

And he is also wearing a jean jacket with jeans.

Oh well here is where fate works its magic, because Debbie is a bank teller! And Zack is all, “Look at my gun,” and Debbie says she only has $600, so Zack makes her get more. There is some cute banter, as normally happens when a man holds you at gunpoint to rob you.  Well I say that sarcastically, but there was that one time on “Dawson’s Creek” when Joey got mugged, in one of the most astonishingly awful episodes ever created of television. But see, Zack’s mustache is falling off. Which is about as funny as this movie gets, at any point in time. So Debbie waltzes away all aflutter and comes back with a bag and her phone number written on the bag as she gives him a coy look and this other lady presses the “POLICE” button.

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The angels are back, begging for a little more time to get Zack to shape up, and Gene Hackman quotes Richard V.

Oh-ho-ho, Debbie gave Zack fake money AND a fake number and Zack is MAD!

Debbie goes home and she of course also has a cat and she tells her mom she got fired and her mom is like, “Again?” And the landlord shows up and he is drinking in the middle of the day, and is also the guy from “Just Shoot Me.” He wants the rent, so Debbie grabs some cash, because you see, she stole the bank money herself!

Oh, Debbie doesn’t live with her mom, just a weird-sounding roommate who is wearing a suit jacket with the sleeves rolled up.

The loan sharks show up to Zack’s place and he “Home Alones” with his doorbell that sounds like barking dogs, one of whom is named “Vinny,” to sound tough, while Zack escapes through the window and Mean Loan Shark throws Nice Loan Shark through the door. Nice Loan Shark admires all the inventions, and long story short, he has Deep Feelings and isn’t Just A Bad Guy.

Zack has managed to change clothes and do his hair and GTAs a cab.

Car chase in Manhattan! “E.T.” playing in a movie theater — awwww! Zack jumps on the roof of a van! Debbie wearing one of the better ’80s outfits, a turtleneck white baggy sweater and black leggings! And Zack flies through the air and lands on top of her, killing them both!

I’m totally not kidding.

So not only did the angels fail to find a good person, they found a bank-robbing doofus who killed Olivia Newton-John, and then have the unmitigated GALL to ask Gene Hackman to bring Debbie and Zack back to life, and so Gene quotes “The Merchant of Venice” and here is where I am hit with that copper taste of fear in my mouth ™Stephen King, because I realize that they are going for some kind of unironic Shakespearean angle with this movie. You see, Debbie and Zack have to sacrifice their LIVES! For each OTHER! And Gene’s like, you get 2 days, but lets himself get haggled to seven.

Oliver Reed! How about that! He’s playing the devil, but like a vaudeville devil, so just assume that any time he’s lurking around, that there are plenty of hijinx and guffaws.

I am starting to think, based on this cast, that the makers of this movie had terribly scandalous blackmail info on everyone involved. There’s no other explanation, because, dude! Awesome cast! But anyway, Oliver Reed and an angel make a bet over whether Gene Hackman will flood the world again. And really, I’m thinking this whole flood thing is very lazy. Been there, done that, you know? There are plenty of other ways to destroy the universe, Gene Hackman.

Now there are randomly three ladies in bikinis, so of course the angels get all hummina hummina, and Poltergeist Lady has to go, “BOYS!” much like Edna Garrett’s “Girrrrls! Girrrrls!”

Uh-oh! The loan sharks are back, ’cause we’ve rewound time, and Zack steals the car all over again, sadly. Not the most promising start to his moral fibers’ keeping the world nice and dry.

So Zack doesn’t need to fly through the air killing himself and Debbie again, because the angels use a bus to block the loan sharks. Why didn’t they do that before, I wonder, but no time to wonder! Because we must cut to the riveting scene of Debbie reading an article in the New York Post about Zack’s robbing the bank.

Oh, Debbie is an actress, which explains so much. And really, how to describe this scene…this acting class is like therapy or something, because Debbie is standing on the stage, trying to emote and yell at Zack ’cause he made her feel all helpless. And she’s really bad, and the acting teacher is really creepy, and then all of a sudden for no reason whatsoever, Zack is in her acting class in the back of the room! And Debbie starts screaming and freaking out so of course the teacher is like “Yes! Drama! That’s it!” and the other actors are crying, as IF a room full of actors cares that much about another actor’s pain.

Apartment. Now, riddle me this, please. WHY WHY WHY did they bother to establish that Debbie’s a Struggling Actress who doesn’t make rent, and her relief at finally having money, only to have her spend a ton of money on a new entertainment center and assorted crap! But no time to wonder, because Zack is in the apartment! He tells Debbie to go get the money and they have Sexual Tension. But she’s all, “I have none left,” and he’s all, “Liar!” and starts burning all her headshots, and I also don’t understand why she has this portfolio of her in all different poses, but they are all black and white and loose, because are they actress pics, model pics, what! But Debbie does not want her confusing pictures burned. “No! Not those!” Debbie cries, and admits she really has $8,600 left.

Now instead of hurrying the strange man with a gun out of her apartment, Debbie petulantly throws a bunch of cash at Zack, and he says she has some set of balls, unlike him, due to all the tight pants.

And now we get some really weird business involving Debbie’s doorknob. I kind of would like a psychiatric evaluation of the person responsible for this movie, who thinks that nothing says “Let’s get naked!” like when a guy holds you up at gunpoint, not once but twice, then steals your doorknob, and now the “Just Shoot Me” guy is back for comedic effect, because nothing is funnier than a woman’s spinectomy ™TWoP.

So now Debbie is trying to sell Zack all the dumb crap she blew the money on, and Zack’s like, “Listen lady, I’ve got my own problems,” and tells her about the loan sharks and waxes poetic about his inventions, and here are the blue sunglasses again, only they are EDIBLE, and that may just be the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard of in my life. Debbie says they taste like “shit” (OMG Olivia Newton-John cursing!), but now Zack’s not just a gun-toting criminal; he’s a gun-toting criminal with a softer side because nothing says sensitive like edible sunglasses, and it is for this reason that Debbie invites him to dinner. Unfortunately, Zack does not GTA another cab; rather they just hail one like normal people and Poltergeist Lady is driving the cab, which Debbie directs to the Plaza. Because the only thing smarter than inviting a violent criminal to dinner is inviting a violent criminal to dinner in a hotel.

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Super insipid scene. Debbie used to work at the Plaza as a waitress. But she is an ACTRESS! With DREAMS! ARE WE ALL VERY FREAKING CLEAR ON THIS FACT AND CAN WE PLEASE MOVE ALONG???

No. Because Debbie really wants this one role in a Broadway play; it’s down to her and two other girls, and it really MUST be a musical, because no way is Debbie good enough of an actress to do straight theater on Broadway.

If I try to recap this next scene, my nerves will be even more shot than they currently are, so I’ll just give you a few keywords: Oliver Reed. Loan sharks. Brian Dennehy-esque angel warning Oliver Reed that if the world ends, they’ll both be out of jobs. Boobs. Ass. Rewind. Fast-forward. Food fight. Pie in the face. Oliver Reed singing, hooray!

Now Zack is at Debbie’s and she is making tea, and Zack apologizes for leaving her at the Plaza and Debbie lets him in because he smells bad and she calls him really weird and he asks for a towel. GREAT SCENE.

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“Just Shoot Me” guy is back, so Debbie slams the door in his face so she can go tend to Zack, who is reading in bed, shirtless. He’s totally Gift of Fear-ing Debbie all over the place, saying he’ll sleep on the couch, but not, then LYING to Debbie and saying her cat got out so he can put on “romantic” music and ask her to dance while I vomit in my mouth.

They dance and kiss. Gross. And just when you think it can’t get grosser, you’ve got voyeur angels watching Zack push Debbie onto the couch, then turn off the light. She tells him to stop and THEN he pulls the bullshittiest of all bullshit maneuvers that no one should be falling for past the age of 22, and tells her that they don’t have to have sex. And when she takes him up on that, he POUTS and they have a conversation where they keep saying “make love” and it is highly disturbing, and then as if he wasn’t evil enough, he gives her the “We have time” speech, but they are interrupted by Roommate and Boyfriend, so Zack and Debbie go on a carriage ride because we’re past the lying and the guns and the robbing and all that and have moved into Carrie and Big territory (though I guess the two relationships are not entirely dissimilar), and Debbie actually asks Zack, “What are you thinking,” and also an angel is driving the carriage.

Montage! Debbie singing on the soundtrack! Fried chicken! Ferry! Digital watch! Windbreaker! Hot pink! Edible sunglasses! Song about “the second time around” and it’s REALLY bad but I think I’d like to sing it at karaoke! Fencing! Portraits! High tea! Magic tricks! Carnations! Serious moment! Tender kissing!

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Back to Debbie’s apartment! She missed the call about getting a final callback! Spontaneity is punished. And so obviously, Debbie yells at Zack. Because he was so the paragon of responsibility before this happened. This is why I don’t date Batman. You can’t think you’re gonna change someone, Debbie.

Of course, the spying angels are very upset by this bitch fit of Debbie’s. And Oliver Reed’s trying to make a deal with Mean Loan Shark and calls him Sunshine! Shout out! While an angel throws marshmallows off a building.

Back to the less Dada-esque, but more boring scene of Debbie blaming Zack for losing her bank job, and then Zack makes me wish I had marshmallows of my own to throw, because he’s doing that whole tiresome “poor me” routine that people do when they want their exes to forget the past and love them again.

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Here is Mean Loan Shark, holding Debbie and Zack at gunpoint while the door is wide open and instead of having sex with him, Debbie says they have 10 dollars left. Nice Loan Shark believes Debbie and Mean Loan Shark foams at the mouth, he’s so angry, and Nice Loan Shark puts a gun in Mean Loan Shark’s mouth because Zack and Debbie’s deep moral fiber has helped inspire Nice Loan Shark’s frog to triumph over his scorpion.

Now there is a REALLY contrived scene that I refuse to recap; just know that Zack doesn’t trust Debbie implicitly with his life after one week of violence and deception, and Debbie gets so upset that she sings a ballad: “So don’t! Say you’ll be there for me! If you don’t care for me!”

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Montage! Zack’s apartment: destroyed! Inventions: gone! Pictures: lopsided!

Oliver Reed is dressed like Captain Kangaroo in this truly remarkable pink suit.

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Zack is having one of those movie epiphanies about What Really Matters In Life as he rides the carriage with the angel. He says he loves Debbie, to erase any remaining doubt that he is unbalanced. No offense to Debbie per se; just saying it’s been like, two minutes since they met. Also, aforementioned Gift of Fearing. He brings roses to Debbie at her new waitressing job, and I have NO idea when she got that, or when she had time to go through all the training that would allow her to have her own tables already.

Also, there is a lady wearing pink and gray.

Mr. Carosi from “Saved by the Bell” is lurking around (natch), and Debbie gets held at gunpoint (Drink!), and Zack helps the cops because he is already wearing tight blue pants, so when in Rome.

Thunder!

It’s almost midnight!

Zack starts leaping cars and buildings and climbing fire escapes because it is the ’80s.

Rooftop wrestling! Requisite ’80s hanging-from-a-building/cliff scene, only here it is a building, just so we’re clear. The gunman shoots Zack, but a cop kills the gunman and it is midnight and it is like “West Side Story,” to go with the Shakespearean angles, and you think that Zack is dead, due to being shot and having no pulse. Debbie cries and says she loves him because they totally deserve each other and her love brings Zack back to life, via Gene Hackman. And Zack’s been taking comedy lessons from Turbo and goes, “What happened?”

Oliver Reed and the angel tip their hats, since they now still have a purpose on this planet, and Zack carries Debbie in his arms and her pants are white and completely spotless.

Oh…there is a Shakespeare book on the ground and the angel tosses it to Zack. Yeahhhhh. And then the angel vanishes.

The ending is amazing, both in acting and dialogue:

Debbie: WHERE’D HE GO!
Zack: I DON’T KNOW.
Debbie: (Sigh.)
Zack: God, this has been a crazy week!
Debbie: Sure has!

FREEZE FRAME!

~ THE END ~

Posted in Women, Music, Movies, Celebrities, Romance, Childhood, Cats, Apartments & Other Domiciles, Intentionally Cheesy Movie Night, AcTING!, Entertainment | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Ask The Waitress: “Officer, He Swore He Was 21!”

Posted on April 25, 2012 by

Q: Is “Dude. Seriously? These are our parents, ” a valid ID in the state of Colorado?

 A: No :-/

So I don’t mean to be a hardass, but is it truly a hardship to carry a valid form of photo identification on oneself if one plans to drink in at least the United States? Now, I don’t mean to get all Big Brother about things.

BUT! You’re going out and you want a beverage of an alcoholic nature, and you look like you could still be of potentially childbearing age (or thereabouts if you are a man)? Bring an ID, because that’s just how it goes.

The base line where I work, age-wise, is if you look under 40, I have to ID you. No ifs, ands, or buts about it. It’s literally the one thing I could get fired for, not checking.

I do get the other angle. There’s a place that my mom likes, but hates that it IDs everyone, no matter what, including my parents, who are now both in their 60s. And I could see that; so can the place where I work. So we have the looks-under-40 rule.

If you’re for real, and you’re cool, and you come in frequently, (and especially if you are nice and tip well!), we’re not going to throw you against the wall and fingerprint you before handing you a Fat Tire. At least not every single time ;)

And while I did not visually witness aforementioned woman getting mad over having been asked for her ID, I glanced at her, and she looked 25 at most. Easily could be younger, and in towns like mine, undercover people do elaborate stings! So I’d have checked her, myself.

So why do people get so mad! It’s a compliment!

I am not lacking in empathy. Even just within the past year, I’ve been denied access to (Denver!) bars, depending on the paperwork of my fellow parties. And I’ve been legal to drink for almost 16 years.

But it’s the law. And not one of the laws I’m willing to get all up in the face of. Photo identification takes up almost no space. If you forget it, that sucks, and I’ve been there, but glowering at your server or bartender and acting as though s/he should risk a job just because you can’t get it together to bring ID with you out to the bar? Or worse yet, because you’re too tired to reach into your wallet and pull it out? No.

ID,  or it’s Dr. Pepper for you! Sawry, sawry. Next time, come prepared!

Posted in Coffee, Going Out, Miscellaneous, Restaurants, Work | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

Some Movie Remakes That I Think Are Cool

Posted on April 19, 2012 by

So like five years ago at Boulder Creek, my friend Jay accused me of acting like a fuddy duddy because I was worried that kids on wheelies were going to fall and kill themselves on the sharp-edged fireplace in the entrance lounge. I personally still think I had a valid concern, but that day helped remind me that truly, no matter how misanthropic I can be from time to time, I don’t want to be that jerk yelling some variation of “Get off my lawn!”

Sometimes this is an uphill battle, so I try to find different ways to counter-balance with the positivity of an open mind! One thing in particular that I’ve tried to work on over the past several years, is trying to not automatically get all angry and butthurt over Hollywood remakes.

It is hard sometimes; hoo boy, let me tell you. I think the angriest I ever got was back when they were saying that a “Buffy” remake was in the works and Joss wasn’t involved and it was like wtf. Then, however, “Vampire Diaries” came out and at very least, bought us all a few more years between real and fake “Buffy.” (No disrespect to “Vampire Diaries,” which is on my bucket list and I hear is awesome.)

So anyway, I let myself have That One. That one glass of haterade, because dude:

a) It is “BUFFY.” And “Buffy” is the closest thing I have to being a Trekkie – you know?

b) TOO SOON! TOO SOON! Kind of like when Jessica Simpson covered Robbie Williams’s “Angels,” and it’s like “Hold your horses, Jessica; that song came out five minutes ago!”

But/so given my very strong reaction to the threat of a “Buffy” remake, and given the threat/promise of remakes of “Footloose” and “The Karate Kid,” my survival instincts kicked in and realized that I had to either let this all go – embrace it, even! – or become a bitter shell of a woman who collects cans just to throw at people I don’t like.

Though it isn’t always easy, I have tried to go with the former. I remember hearing several years ago, a debate over someone or other’s acquiring and using the rights to Jimi Hendrix to sell soda or some such. One person was like, “It’s selling out; Hendrix’s spirit is not being properly represented.” And I was like, right on. But then the other person countered that Hendrix’s art stood on its own, and if a whole other generation was exposed to his music thanks to this posthumous sponsorship, then that is awesome. And I was like, right on.

NO, I really am not super crazy about the daily (and gaining in momentum!) reminders that I am Not So Young Anymore. Watching a 3-day marathon of “30 Rock” helped shine some light on that. And Tina Fey’s is perspective is one that inspires me at every turn. To laugh at the stuff that sucks about getting older, and rejoice in the stuff that rules. Though I’m not sure Ms. Fey would ever use the words “stuff” and “rejoice” unironically.

Point being. I’m getting older, and while I know I’m still young-ish on various charts, as I mentioned the other day, it’s like, other people’s turns now. To be young-minus-the-ish.

IMO, if art is truly art, or even just awesome, it will stand on its own, and it will age okay. Dated =/= obsolete. If Jaden Smith has even an ounce of either or both parents’ talent, and can get younger kids interested in a movie about an underdog who channels his helplessness into positivity? Stellar. Maybe they’ll watch the original and the remake with a parent, and bond. Maybe they’ll watch the original and laugh and make fun of the old-fashioned people the way I sometimes used to do back in the day. Maybe they’ll ignore the original entirely and just watch the remake, because they’re kids and not film students, necessarily. Either way, anything that gets kids to watch movies about rising above bullies and gaining confidence in oneself is all right (Larusso!) by me.

And now that I’ve gone on about it for awhile, here are some remakes throughout my life, that I’m personally happy got/are getting made, and help salve the pain when I hear about yet another remake in the work.

Oh and despite talking about TV a few paragraphs ago, for sake of time and sanity, I will stick to movies for today’s list(s)!

Warning! Some spoilers in the videos!

Remakes I’ve Liked

Little Women (1994)

Figured I’d start with this one, because it’s probably the most objective one on my list. See, I grew up with Little Women. It was my favorite, favorite, FAVORITE book of all time when I was four years old. I was pretty obsessed. So I’d seen the earlier movies from a very young age. Perhaps this is also a fitting first pick because from a young age, I was able to see that sometimes, remakes weren’t an actual plot to make you feel put out to pasture. It just meant that people loved something, a lot. And/or stood to make money off of it, but the two need not be mutually exclusive.

Anyway. By the time the ’94 “Little Women” remake came out, I could easily have been dismayed. My first childhood literary love, murdered by these modern-day hooligans!

Instead, I have so much love for the new(est) movie version. Especially because Amy was always my favorite March sister, and Kirsten Dunst rocks it out of the park so hard.


Anne of Green Gables (1985)

They made an earlier version, wherein the star actually changed her name IRL to Anne Shirley! Intense. And I did watch it, but nothing could compete with Kevin Sullivan’s ’85 version starring the perfectly – and I mean that word very, very literally – cast Megan Follows as Anne. This was another book I loved as a kid, though 11 not four, and Follows was 10 times better than even the best Anne that I could imagine. RIP and love to Colleen Dewhurst and Richard Farnsworth in particular, who couldn’t have been better. It was a great cast, with glorious cinematography, and just in general, it’s aged so well. I guess in a way it might be easier to skirt that obstacle with period pieces, but as someone who grew up in the ‘80s, I still find it impressive, because I mean: “Grease 2,” anyone? “Period piece” is no guaranteed road to safety when you are a movie made in the ’80s. Kudos, “Anne of Green Gables.”

(And no, I didn’t make it through this video without many tears.)

Funny Games (2007)

I wrote about it recently, and will try not to beat a dead horse. Or (SPOILER!!!!) dog, as it were. But it obviously belongs on this list. Still haven’t seen the original, but since I’ve just seen “Them,” and have seen “The Strangers,” I may wait awhile before revisiting the scariest (IMO) home invasion movie of them all.

Father of the Bride (1991)

I saw this in the library the other day, and all of a sudden the world smelled like snow, Sunrise Mall, and Passion by Elizabeth Taylor. I was 16 again, and always will be when this movie comes on. There is no other movie in the world like that, for me – pure transportation back to a time when really, sometimes, you could fall asleep with a budgeting article on your lap and a tense expression on your face, get right on through a terrible blender argument, and get right to the white lights, swans, laughs, and tears, that only the early ‘90s could bring in such a way. Much like “Poltergeist,” this is a movie that I fell in love with for the youngsters because I was one (and Kimberly Williams is so great), but as I get older, appreciate on a whole other level for the grown ups. I love Steve Martin and Diane Keaton together.

Remakes I Want To See

Halloween (2007) and Halloween II (2009)

I saw the original (first) “Halloween,” and it was okay. I think maybe I saw it for the first time too late in the game, and it reminded me more of watching movies in the early ‘80s, more than engaged me. You know? Which is why I was excited that my beloved Mr. Zombie was remaking “Halloween.”

Why haven’t I seen it yet, seeing as it came out five years ago? Good question! For which, I have no good answer, other than I tend to be a bit scared of horror movies, and am not as well versed on them as I’d like to be! But I’m educating myself, slowly but surely and with a little help from my friends ;) And I love Rob Zombie. His music is my lullabies, and his uber-violent movies don’t really bother me at all. (I’ve seen “House of 1,000 Corpses” and “The Devil’s Rejects.”)

I even went and bought “Halloween II,” without having seen Zombie’s “Halloween!” Part of that is due to my love for Brea Grant, but still. Now, I am actually saving Rob Zombie’s “Halloweens” for “Halloween” (may as well, right?), but point is, it’s a remake that I’m happy exists, and I’m pretty sure I’m going to like it, seeing as I don’t not-like anything Rob Zombie’s created thus far.

21 Jump Street (2012)

Granted, this is running with the concept of a television series and turning it into a movie, but I think it counts, since the original was all super cool when I was young. And like, hey, it was an awesome show because what is not to love about the drama, angst, and hijinx of being a 20-something and going undercover in a high school? “Never Been Kissed,” anyone?!?!

What are your thoughts on movie remakes? Any favorites? Most despised?

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Jeans & Genes

Posted on April 13, 2012 by

(A day late.)

Did I ever tell you that I refused to wear pants when I was a kid? True story. Not that I was a nudist, though I really didn’t prefer clothes and in the ultimate of ironies, I threw a FIT whenever my mother would try to get me to wear an undershirt. Dude, the lace! The lace! The stupid itchy bows! Why would I choose to put something like that against my skin?

And as is my strength and my downfall, I don’t like to do things that don’t make sense to me. So the concept of wearing pants was ridiculous. Shorts were fine, but dresses and skirts were my favorite. Why wouldn’t they be? I hate being hot, and I hate being constricted. Win-win. Plus, skirts and dresses are pretty! My anti-pants stance took place pre-Ramona; the stars of my literary world were Meg, Jo, Beth, Amy, Laura, Mary, and Nellie. Bad enough that my hair was not flowing and curly and down to my waist. Wearing pants was entirely unacceptable to this method actress.

Every now and then my mother would take a stand and insist I wear pants that day. My response: “No.” I vividly remember a day when I was four. That day, my mother was particularly feisty and was all, fine, you are staying in your room until you wear pants! Only it wasn’t my room, it was the one bedroom in our one-bedroom apartment. Which was fine with me because that’s where all the comics were. Only she caught on to me and took them away. Then I was pissed. But I didn’t break. I stayed in that room all day long, free from pants. At one point, I peeked out to see why the apartment was dark. Had I entered into a “Home Alone” situation, ten years early? No. My mother was watching “Star Trek,” oblivious to the fact that I was watching along with her. I’d never seen it before. And it was mad boring. I went back in the room.

My mother did not break me that day, because my refusal to wear pants was definitely in full effect that day in first grade where I learned one drawback to skirts. Apparently, it was a mockable offense to sit with your legs crossed and let your underpants show. That made NO sense to me whatsoever. If one’s underpants were awesome like my Wonder Woman Underoos, why wouldn’t one want to show them off? But everyone made fun of me, so I stopped doing that. Sad.

What my family’s obsession was with getting me to wear pants, I don’t know, but my grandmother got in on the action when I was seven. My mother’s mother. And whereas my dad’s parents were the mushy sweet la la la “best little girl in the world” (me (I KNOW!)) grandparents, Nanny Collins was no-nonsense. I was pissing off my mother by refusing to wear pants, not minding my place as a child? Oh, HECK no! Off to the mall we went.

You know those days when you feel like you’re underwater, and may as well be totally drunk, for all you remember? Well all I remember from this one day is staring at an escalator in A&S, or Stern’s, or one of those stores my mom liked that closed down one by one like Alexander’s. Poor Mom, having to resort to the wonderful horrors of TJ Maxx now.

Anyway, I remember standing there, making up games in my head as I was and am wont to do. Imagining that the escalator at any moment would magically fly me away from the horror of pants-buying. But it did not.

Finally, my grandmother emerged triumphant, and really seemed pleased with her choice. And you know how sometimes when you’re in a bad mood, something picked out by someone else is so insultingly awful when it’s not what you were expecting? And you can get really mean about it? Or is that just me. I try not to do it; I always feel bad about it, like the time my high school boyfriend gave me a second-hand Atari and I was upset because it was so unromantic and my dumbass 17-year-old self would rather have had jewelry. Very quickly I realized I was being a jerk, and worked to mend my ways, as an Atari is obviously an awesome present.

Back in 1982, when Ataris were firsthand and only a dream I knew would never come true for me, I had not yet mastered masking my disappointment. These were the ugliest jeans I’d ever seen in my life. They were dark blue and boxy, and had a thick elastic waistband, and they were for little kids. The back pockets were on the front and had the word “LOLLIPOPS” embroidered into them, not to mention pictures of lollipops, as well.

Horrible!

I told my mother and grandmother angrily that the jeans were hideous, and I would never wear them. NEVER! At which point my grandmother told me I was being very disrespectful and would SO wear the jeans because I was the child in this relationship, and would do what I was told.

I don’t remember the moment that I put on the jeans. All I remember is refusing to take them off. Somewhere along the line, I fell in love with them. They were the most comfortable things in the entire world. And how cool, to have lollipops all over your pants! I wore them until they were covered with holes. Then I still wore them. To the point where my second grade teacher Miss Markey asked me to please not wear “those pants” to school anymore and my mother was very embarrassed.

Happy birthday, Nanny. I miss you every day. Thank you for buying me the Lollipop pants. You were an awesome grandmother and I love you.

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