Thursday, June 18, 2009

The Proposal, or: The Worst Possible Way to Stay In The Country

How excited am I for this movie? A Canadian played by an American forces an American played by a Canadian to marry her so she can stay in America. And don't pretend the casting isn't part of the joke: for me the casting is the whole joke, expecially when RR starts making dumb American jokes about Canada. Directed by a choreograher.

Also, I would see any movie with Sandra Bullock.

Wednesday, June 17, 2009

Trustifarians Eating Ramen

This is from a while ago, but I can’t not post it, because I think it’s too hilarious.

Did none of these people read into the moral lessons behind Charlie and the Chocolate Factory? I’m all for parents helping their struggling kids out and it being hard to be a young person struggling to get ahead, but give me a freaking break. If you’re twentysomething and you want to break into the [pretentious career] industry, be a scrapper and do it! Don’t take summers off, don’t spend all your money on ridiculous shoes and twenty dollar martinis (NYC can be an asshole about that) and then balk at working a shit job for 8 hours in a row. If you are the parent of such a person, cut them off.

The film industry, for one, is full of people who are trying to work in it or who do work in it who don’t care that much about movies and aren’t really interested in shutting up, working hard, and getting the job done. Of course, there are people who DO care about movies, who DO shut up and work hard and get the job done and those people are freaking DIAMONDS. And they do not spend very long working shitty jobs. Getting ahead in film is like a zen paradox: love washing the coffee cups and then you won’t have to do it for very long.


Now that I've been working this job for over a year, I've gotten pretty good at my routines. I work about 12 hours a day, Monday to Friday, not including commute (30 minutes in the morning, 15 at night). I try to spend one weeknight a week socializing, two weeknights a week at the gym and Monday nights I usually give myself the night off (I'm usually a little jetlagged from the weekend hours).

This means one weekend day is (at least partly) taken up with chores: laundry, grocery shopping, cleaning up the kitchen, cleaning the house, because I don’t have time to do it during the week. I try to make myself a week’s worth of lunches for the week ahead too. This doesn’t always happen.

I have my behaviour pretty much set into a pattern that works really well. I’m missing writing time. So far, I still haven’t been able to figure out where to fit that in, apart from some 3 hour stints on the weekends. What’s hard is getting my head out of office mode and into writing mode. I’ve gotten really good at sensing what time it is, or how much time has passed. The other thing I’ve learned from work is a certain kind of split attention. I have real conversations at the same time that I’m listening to a phone conversation in my other ear at the same time I’m having an IM conversation. I monitor multiple email inboxes. I have a hard time reading a two page article all the way through without flipping through other windows, checking other information streams. It’s not a lack of concentration; it’s just broad concentration instead of deep concentration.

I’m looking forward to a future phase of my life in which I will be able to foster deep concentration once again.

Here are some famous people and their patterns. Often striking for their weirdness, which is great: to make great things, sometimes you have build your life around your own peculiarities, even if it’s not that healthy.

WH Auden:

He swallowed Benzedrine every morning for twenty years, from 1938 onward, balancing its effect with the barbiturate Seconal when he wanted to sleep. (He also kept a glass of vodka by the bed, to swig if he woke up during the night.) He took a pragmatic attitude toward amphetamines, regarding them as a "labor-saving device" in the "mental kitchen," with the important proviso that "these mechanisms are very crude, liable to injure the cook, and constantly breaking down."

Winston Churchill:

He awoke about 7:30 a.m. and remained in bed for a substantial breakfast and reading of mail and all the national newspapers. For the next couple of hours, still in bed, he worked, dictating to his secretaries. At 11:00 a.m., he arose, bathed, and perhaps took a walk around the garden, and took a weak whisky and soda to his study.

Mr. Rogers:

Mister Rogers weighed 143 pounds because he has weighed 143 pounds as long as he has been Mister Rogers, because once upon a time, around thirty-one years ago, Mister Rogers stepped on a scale, and the scale told him that Mister Rogers weighs 143 pounds. No, not that he weighed 143 pounds, but that he weighs 143 pounds.... And so, every day, Mister Rogers refuses to do anything that would make his weight change--he neither drinks, nor smokes, nor eats flesh of any kind, nor goes to bed late at night, nor sleeps late in the morning, nor even watches television--and every morning, when he swims, he steps on a scale in his bathing suit and his bathing cap and his goggles, and the scale tells him he weighs 143 pounds. This has happened so many times that Mister Rogers has come to see that number as a gift, as a destiny fulfilled, because, as he says, "the number 143 means `I love you.' It takes one letter to say 'I' and four letters to say `love' and three letters to say `you.' One hundred and forty-three. `I love you.' Isn't that wonderful?"

Pro-Ahmadinejad + Photoshop = Love

Looks like the photoshopping skills of Iranian powers that be have not improved with practice and experience.

Homeless in the Sims

I played the Sims a while back. It was boring. I couldn't deal with computer characters that took 45-minute-long showers in the mornings and then kept missing their carpools. As if the irritating details of real life aren't bad enough.

Maybe the key is giving your Sims some kind of actual, serious conflict, like making them homeless with an abusive parent. This makes the game seem actually interesting.

What Do You Call A Bad Tattoo Gone Bad?

So this 18-year-old girl went to get a small ugly facial tattoo and ended up with a big ugly facial tattoo.

Couple of things:

Who falls asleep while getting a tattoo? Was she on morphine?

Facial tattoos at 18? You want to wear a badge of dumb for the rest of your life?

Who gives facial tattoos to a teenager? Oh, it's this guy:

So I guess if you ask this guy to start drawing on you with permanent ink, you get what you deserve. I hope my little cousin sees this.

Friday, June 12, 2009

So Get Off Your Ath, Let's Do Some Math, Math Math Math Math Math

So I have a massive pile of receipts that I need to reconcile with my bank statements so that I can figure out how much I’ve been spending and on what. Not the most fun thing ever.

But look, here’s an excuse for continued laziness: you can use this checksum technique on your restaurant bills to mathematically “lock” your total so servers don’t give themselves tips off your credit card that you didn’t authorize, no receipt-checking required. Clever.

Is this paranoid? Yes, but so is tearing my name and address out of all junk mail I receive and taking it to work for shredding. A month ago I spotted a hobo going through my recycling bin looking not for bottles but for paper, specifically mail. Creepy.

Friday, June 05, 2009

Thursday, June 04, 2009


Every photograph of Vladmir Putin cracks me up. And scares the shit out of me. He’s like a sad clown that is thinking very seriously about how your eyeballs will taste when he rips them out of your face and eats them.

Wednesday, June 03, 2009


I really like reading the news and I recently discovered this feature the Boston Globe has called The Big Picture, which is just that: news stories, told mostly by photograph, but really high-resolution, big photos that take up your whole browser screen. It's amazing how sometimes it feels much more informative than just reading an article.

Sometimes it is on big news stories that are already leading, but often the subject is stuff I've never heard of before, like... Gloucester Cheese Rolling!

Monday, June 01, 2009

The Verge

I am still someone who has not thrown up from running too hard. I am also, but just barely, someone who has not thrown up from a traumatic emotional experience.

I am, however, someone who has thrown up in the car after eating half a bag of corn chips before driving down the Whistler highway. I am almost someone who has thrown up from eating Kentucky Fried Chicken.