January 31, 2008

In Istanbul, January is over.

True fact.

According to the world clock on my *beautiful* mac's dashboard, it is at this moment 1:40:26 am in Istanbul. Or is it Constantinople? I forget.
Here where I live, however, it is still January, albeit within the last 6.3 hours, which means that tomorrow is February.

Why is this important enough to include in a blog you may ask? Well the answer, of course, is that I wanted to write a blog and this was really the only newsworthy thing to write about today (besides the fact that I went to Chipotle today for the first time in about 6 weeks. How did I cope???). Also, my blog is of very little importance to many people (including, regrettably, myself sometimes) and thus, writing about unimportant things makes quite a bit of sense.

Which brings me to my next topic: LOST

Ok, I'm kind of kidding, and didn't mean to burn all of those people who like it, but since I brought it up....

When I first heard about LOST I thought it would tank in about 2 weeks, simply because it looked like the dumbest idea ever for a TV show and would've made a much better, although probably still bad, movie. While I realize this could be said for many shows (including some that I like) I always thought it particularly applied to this show. Also, it reminded me of a hybrid of Gilligan's Island and The Lord of the Flies which, when separate, are both funny and moving. Gilligan and his aquaintances create a society, tolerate one another, and (the professor, at least) build houses and other necessary tools/objects. Popular - mainly because it lifted the spirits of downtrodden Americans. In Lord of the Flies, the boys end up eating each other, bullying a chubby kid, and revert back to an existence similar to that of their Neanderthal ancestors. As I said, a barrel of laughs.

But could you imagine a show in which Gilligan, Mr. Howell and Maryann run smack into a loincloth-clad band of grimy preadolescent boys chasing a boar while on their way to make soap and champaign for their neighbors???

Apparently ABC could, and convinced a bunch of people, apparently, that this was "good" entertainment. They probably added a soundtrack though, so there's that.

As I said, this is all probably irrelevant, but to me, right now, it makes a little sense. We condemn celebrities and "celebrities" of being irresponsible, fighting for the spotlight no matter how desperate or deplorable they look. And yet, we know about what they do because we read the gossip columns, go on their websites and watch trashy TV shows. We talk about how these people should know better, but shouldn't we too know better? Maybe it's the election year catching up with me, but from where my car is, the traffic is pretty thick and the one way ended a couple miles ago.

In the mean time, I think I'll just sit here and wait for February, hanging by the last thread of my dignity, watching reruns on Nick at Nite.

Except I don't have cable. Damn.

January 29, 2008

Elizabeth Dole Has a Lime Green Suit

In honor of the state of the union, I have to decided to post a poem that I wrote over a year ago for my last high school English class. I think it is also appropriate to post because of the looming election, the Olympics and of course, the leap year.

Elizabeth Dole has a lime green suit.
She wears it among hues of polyester
so boring it makes me crave outrageous fruit

colors that penetrate the grays an blacks that fester
in Senate chambers. Maybe if they all dressed
like Mrs. Dole, they wouldn't worry about their big contributor

and instead try to put to rest
the division they've caused in their own country,
and to honestly do their very best

to actually represent their constituency
instead of hiding behind
the Washington bureaucracy.

On TV we find
talking heads who always claim
to know all answers undefined.

They rant and rave, whine and blame
but never admit their faults. There are far
too many Bill O'Reillys and they are all the same.

Whether hurricane relief or better fuel for my car,
there is always something to count on:
The brilliant failure of our

government to work united instead of withdrawn,
cowering in their corners.
Maybe if they wrote memos with crayons

of bright fruity colors, the expenditures
would decrease and actual progress -
not lobbyist sponsored manicures

would be made among the suits that attempt to impress
respect, but instead inspire
the constant scrutiny of the "fake" press

who are seen only as satire,
but surely will not become mute
until politicians change their attire.

January 24, 2008

Pat Sajak is my hero. Except not really.

I was watching the end of Wheel of Fortune the other night, for no apparent reason. Actually, yes, there was a reason. I was waiting for taco night to start and I wanted to play it cool and show up after 7:01, thus the watching of WoF began. (That is one of the most ridiculous acronyms ever. Besides EVOO, of course)
Typical shenanigans ensued, annoying contestants, one of them was completely lucky in getting a puzzle right, one was a guy who I don't think got anything, another was pregnant, nothing new. Then, Sajak, in his (probably) bottle blond glory impressed/disgusted me beyond human belief. Apparently, he has been nagging the producers for a massage chair to do the show in for, well, forever. Because standing there apparently isn't quite lazy enough. They gave him one, sort of. At the end of the show. Right before the credits. When he and Vanna (VERY unfortunate name) usually engage in the useless and occasionally mildly funny banter. This time, the banter was a shameful display of the most obvious product placement known to man. Sajak sat down first (ignoring the fact that Vanna had been walking back and forth in high heels for a half hour, pushing buttons that I've always doubted the existence of) and starts talking about the thousands of ways the leather vibrates blah blah blah. Then, Vanna's turn which, naturally, involved her sitting on Sajak's lap. Oh how I wish I were kidding. Then to close the show, Sajak, channeling Gene Rayburn, says -

"We'll be here vibrating if anyone needs us."

Of course you will.

January 10, 2008

Happy Birthday Mr. Bean

It was Rowan "Mr. Bean" Atkinson's birthday the other day. I missed it and I'm really, truly broken up that I didn't get him something. I was thinking earlier about all the things I could get him, but nothing seemed right. A new bear would probably just nudge out the one he already has. His watch was nearly cooked inside a turkey, and probably still is a little greasy. And, of course, counseling is always an option. Instead I've decided to share this picture with the world. Although taken before his birthday I strongly believe that subconsciously I knew I would have to make a belated wish somehow, so with no more ado, please feast your eyes on quite possibly the most wonderful and disturbing picture of me ever taken.

January 3, 2008


Why do we do this,
participate in this nonsense about changing with a date?
Is today that much different?
Do we really feel a change?
Perhaps the air changes slightly,
the oxygen is taken away,
or the wind picks up,
enabling a vision of living somewhere new -
Venus or Saturn -
deceiving us just as
we deceive ourselves.
I wonder if they make resolutions
on Saturn and Venus.
Maybe there is no air to influence their decision
Or maybe,
just maybe
they examine their lives more
than once a year.
Maybe they care just as much
on April 19 as on December 31
about the people they slighted
the cookies they ate
words said
and not,
laundry yet to be folded
people left at the airport.
Maybe someday we'll find out,
meanwhile, though
we'll wait
rubbing our hands together,
stomping our feet
and checking our watches
standing lonely outside the terminal.