Too Sweet For Rock 'N Roll

So...

2010-01-01T16:07:00.000-05:00

New Year. New Decade. New Blog.

Happy 2010!

There's no place like home

2009-12-05T07:54:00.004-05:00

I don't have many Christmas traditions but every year, I insist on watching The Wizard of Oz before December 25. I've noticed a pattern in which I have a much better holiday the years I watch the movie than years I don't.

So, last night while watching TV, Dan and I had the following conversation:

Dan: We better watch The Wizard of Oz before we leave for Florida.
Jaime: Why? It'll be on TNT like, eighty times before Christmas.
Dan: Yeah, but I'm not risking a plane crash because we didn't watch your Christmas movie.

The fact that I'm utterly unhinged has finally infected my poor fiance.

Everyone together now -- "I could while away the hours/Conferring with the flowers/Consulting with the raaainnn...."

So, I'm feeling....

2009-12-04T19:17:00.001-05:00

- Like I got into a fight with Mike Tyson (I Will Eat Your Children Mike, not Singing Phil Collins Songs In The Hangover Mike) in which his weapon of choice was a tire iron and mine was a kitten.

- Like a sumo wrestler is sitting on my neck.

- Like I'd probably marry the man who showed up with a hot buttered multigrain bagel (sorry, babe). Or a veggie fajita salad from Chipotle. That would be pretty great too.

- Like Fatty McButterpants.

- Like I need to own more cocktail rings. Preferably, one of those kickass plastic rose rings in a pretty shade of pink or yellow. Of course, I'm completely ignoring fact that they would probably look totally stupid on my child-sized hands.

- That I want to travel more. I've got these travel guides on my Google Docs -- a list of cities I want to visit and all the things I want to do when I get there. Frommers, they are not. My top three things to do in Austin, Texas -- visit the Stevie Ray Vaughan statue at Lady Bird Lake, visit Antone's nightclub and eat at Juan in a Million. Huevos rancheros, margaritas and mmmmmmigas!

- Like I need to reiterate the Fatty McButterpants thing.

- Like the U.S. is going to get their asses handed to them when they play England in the World Cup.

- That Tish and Billy Ray Cyrus are negligent halfwits for allowing their 17-year-old to get a tattoo under her breast.

He'll rip through us like tin foil!

2009-12-03T19:31:00.002-05:00

So, how was your day?

We got into an accident this morning.

Thankfully, all parties involved are fine, but hearing your car crinkle like tin foil at 8:00 a.m.? There are better ways to start the morning.

It happened really quickly and the only thing I remember is thinking, "Oh my God. We're not stopping."

Damn you, forward momentum.

Thinking about it messes me up a little because I'm a big fan of playing the What-If game. The game in which you torment yourself by asking what if -- what if we hasn't been wearing our seatbelts and had flown through the windshield? What if the airbag had deployed and injured us? What if we'd been going faster? What if Dan was seriously hurt? What if it was worse?

That last one messes me up the most. That's the one that brews a tempest in my stomach, causes my heart to clench and stings my eyes with salty tears.

We were lucky. Nothing happened that can't be fixed. But the security of that knowledge doesn't stop me from playing the game.

I'm trying to laugh to keep from crying, though. For example -- this morning, Dan and I were dropped off to work in a police car and the entire ride to the office, people kept ogling us, wondering what two young professionals had done so early in the morning as to be stuck in the back of a cruiser. It was pretty amusing. Also, police cars? Not nearly as comfortable as I expected. Instead of cushioned seat, it's hard plastic that you slide around on whenever you make a turn. I imagine it's probably the least fun ever if you're drunk.

Here's to hoping your day was better than ours and that ours gets a little better.

Drive safe.

Running Commentary Wednesday - 12/2/09

2009-12-02T20:07:00.004-05:00

Welcome to Running Commentary Wednesday. Here's the lowdown -- I am totally barefaced as I woke up late this morning and didn't have time to do my make-up, it's not even 9:00 and I've already launched into a Diet Dr. Pepper and I've got (Christmas) Baby Please Come Home stuck in my head.

8:03: Not stopping for coffee was a terrible mistake. Also a terrible mistake -- waking up late and realizing you have no defrosty windshield wiper fluid.

8:41: So, I've been thinking more and more about getting a tattoo. This is usually the sort of reckless decision made in your early twenties after one too many Jagerbombs, but I think it's time to put my crippling fear of needles aside and get some ink. The only idea I've go so far is a tattoo on my right wrist that reads 'Writer' but I've got two issues with that:

A) Holy pretension, Batman! Seriously -- what kind of douchebag has 'writer' tattooed on their body? There are only two ways I could justify this:
1) If I publish a piece of literature that outsells the combined total of the Bible, Harry Potter, Twilight and every John Grisham novel ever published.
2) If I somehow manage to become Ernest Hemingway. Papa was a bad-ass who could get away with something like this.
B) A tattoo on the wrist sounds particularly painful. More so than mostly anywhere else on one's body. Also, a wrist tattoo would probably be harder to cover up in a professional setting. But on the plus side, the skin on my wrists will probably never change.

Any suggestions/recommendations? Do you have tattoos yourself? How did you decide what to get? Do you regret the decision now?

9:08: In less temporary body modification news, I'm finally getting my hair done this weekend. I really want this (partially because I have a total crush on Rashida Jones. I mean, she's smart, funny, talented, gorgeous and she dated John Krasinski. What's not to like?)

but get the feeling I won't be able to pull it off, so instead -- caramel brown with honey-colored highlights. Hopefully, it'll look as delicious as it sounds.

9:20: So, there's been some controversy about Kate Moss', "Nothing tastes as good as skinny feels," comment. To which, I respond, "Bitch, have you ever tried stuffing?" To which Imaginary Kate Moss Who Lives In My Head responds, "No, but I can you have..." and proceeds to poke my hips with a withered, bony finger. IKMWLIMH is kind of a bitch and I am in serious need of coffee and a nap because I've obviously lost my mind.

11:32: Does anyone else think that Jaimee Grubbs (Tiger Woods' alleged mistress) looks like a third-rate Shakira impersonator?

11:38: Dan and I made an executive decision not to put up a Christmas tree this year (as neither of us will really be around for the holidays) and I think that, coupled with the fact that we did all of our Christmas shopping online and that I've yet to indulge in a delicious red cup beverage, are affecting my sense of holiday spirit. Hopefully, it'll come rushing in full force when we hit up the Magic Kingdom later this month. If Disney can't get you feeling holly-jolly, you might very well be dead inside.

12:35: Dear Baby might just be the sweetest blog I've ever read. It's the weirdest thing -- every time I read an entry, I hear this really faint ticking noise. Hmmm....strange, that.

12:36: Calm down, Mom. Dan and I are still a little ways away from that adventure.

3:09: Why is it that the people you'd least like to see nude are the first ones to strip down to their skivvies? I just saw pictures of the Phildelphia Naked Bike Ride and I'm kind of amazed. Firstly because my puritanical sensibilities would never allow me to do such a thing --having your lumpy bits out on display for the entire city to ogle/judge? Mortifying. Utterly mortifying. And secondly, I'm amazed by the sheer number of people who are willing to rock out with their cock out/jam out with their clam out in 40 degree weather. Didn't these men watch Seinfeld? Are they unaware of shrinkage?

The Laminated List - Updated

2009-11-20T18:20:00.011-05:00

I'm carefully peeling back the laminate and updating the list. Looking over it, I've realized three things:

A) I dig older men. 80% of my list is comprised of men within two years of 40. Since I'm almost 27, I'm OK with that. It would be way creepier if my list was comprised of dudes like Taylor Lautner and Justin Bieber (who is that kid, anyway?)

B) I dig actors. 80% of my list is comprised of men who earn their ducats pretending to be someone else.

C) I dig men named David...or a variant of.

So, without further ado, here for your pleasure (but mostly mine) is the updated Laminated List.

5.

Name: David Boreanaz
Age: 40
Occupation: Actor

I'm not a vampire fetishist. The sight of blood revolts me, I'm a big morning person, think everyone looks better with a tan and being a vegetarian, that whole carnivorous diet thing? Yeah, that ain't working. But, if I had to pick a vampire to lust after, it would be David Boreanaz's Angel. He's got a soul, he's been known to crack a funny ever now and then, he's got the sartorial taste of a gay man, he can wear a suit like no other and he could kick Sparkles' ass from here to Transylvania, no problem. Also, dude's got a killer smile. I've always been a sucker for that.

4.

Name: Dave Grohl
Age: 40
Occupation: Musician

I'm kind of conflicted on this one. Part of me wants to be his BFF -- hang out, drink beer, eat really good pizza, talk about music...and then, he starts playing music and I get the inexplicable urge to fling my boyshorts at him. Hmmm...funny, that.

3.

Name: Sam Trammell
Age: 38
Occupation: Actor

Hello new addition! Sam Trammell plays shapeshifter Sam Merlotte on True Blood and since the first episode, I've wanted to grab him, throw him down on the bar and recreate scenes from several R-rated movies. It's the hair -- sandy, salt and peppery -- and the mouth. It inspires all sorts of lascivious thoughts. Also inspiring lascivious thoughts? His butt. Not gonna lie -- it's pretty rockin'. Also rockin'? The fact that he attended both Brown and the University of Paris. Smart = sexy and don't let anyone tell you otherwise.

2.

Name: John Krasinski
Age: 29
Occupation: Actor

I totally agree with Andrea -- John is the kind of guy who would get up in the middle of the night to get you a glass of water. He's handsome, he's sweet and he's uproariously funny (case in point). Emily Blunt is a lucky girl (and you know what? So am I because Dan always gets me water, he's gorgeous, sweet and makes me laugh so hard, I cry).

1.

Name: Ron Livingston
Age: 42
Occupation: Actor

And topping the list again is Ron Livingston. The mere mention of his name turns me into a blushing, utterly inarticulate slip of a girl who can do little more than grin like an idiot, play with her hair and make indecipherable noises. I essentially revert back to a seventh grader with a crush. So, what is it about Ron Livingston that lights my fire? Basically, he seems like a really decent guy. He's been in two of my favorite movies of all time (Swingers and Office Space), I like his laugh and I really like the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles. Silly, really but when have crushes (especially crushes on celebrities that you will thankfully never meet) been anything but?

And on the flip side -- a list of men who I'm attracted to for reasons that no-one can even begin to fathom but I'm going to valiantly try and explain them anyway. I.E. -- A List of Men I Wish Tiger Beat Would Make Pin-Ups For, But Obviously Won't Because They're Not Conventionally Dreamy.

Again, note the trend of older men. Not one under the age of 40! When did I start finding salt-and-pepper hair sexy? Hmmm.....

4.

Name: Jeff Garlin
Age: 47
Occupation: Actor

Yes, that Jeff Garlin. The one continually being abused by Susie Essman on Curb Your Enthusiasm as the "fat fuck." I know, I know! You're thinking, "Dude, what the fuck? Seriously?" but hear me out. Garlin has a great voice (loved him in Wall-E), he's funny, he seems quite sweet and at the end of the day, all he wants is someone to eat cheese with. I could totally be that someone.

3.

Name: Dana Gould
Age: 45
Occupation: Writer/Comedian

The first time I really noticed Dana Gould was on an episode of Real Time With Bill Maher. The conversation between Dan and I went something like this:

Jaime: Wait, that's Dana Gould?
Dan: Yeah.
Jaime: The writer from The Simpsons? That Dana Gould?
Dan: Yeah.
Jaime: Wow....He's kinda hot.
Dan: Wait, what?

And he is. He's good-looking, funny and smart (Simpsons writers are usually eggheads and Gould's got a quick political wit, which is totally sexy) -- hitting the trifecta of traits I look for in a crush.

2.

Name: Bill Simmons
Age: 40
Occupation: Writer/Columnist for ESPN

Simmons, also known as Sports Guy, is a Pats fan. This puts him just above serial killers who wear clown make-up. BUT, Bill's the exception to the rule. The man can write. And the man can spout pop culture trivia. And the man invented both the Unintentional Comedy and Vengeance Scales. And the man's starting to go a little gray which, let's be honest, looks really, really good on him.

1.

Name: Bradley Whitford
Age: 50
Occupation: Actor

So, it wasn't so much Bradley Whitford as it was Danny Tripp from Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip. The guy was smart, passionate, slightly tragic and witty. Oh and the way he wore his glasses atop his head? Remarkably sexy. I have no doubt that West-Wing-A-Thon 2009 (my sister and I are planning on spending Christmas doing nothing but eating and watching The West Wing) and Whitford's portrayal as Josh Lyman will do nothing but further my crush.

So, that's the list. Who's on yours?

Grace in Small Things - 10/365

2009-11-12T20:15:00.003-05:00

1. Creative writing. The piece I'm writing is silly, peppered with profanity and will probably never see the light of day. But it's mine and I love it.

2. Skype. Not only does it allow me to actually see my parents when I speak to them, but it also enables me to stay in touch with my best friend in London. We had an hour-long discussion the other night that touched on politics, weddings, the hypersexualization of children, racism and how cute our respective significant others are. It was fantastic and I can't wait to do it again.

3. The prospect of getting together with my best friends in December and drinking gin gimlets.

4. The prospect of getting together with my sister in December and just hanging out.

5. Library book sales! They happen twice a year and because I'm a nerd of epic proportions, I look forward to them a little more than I look forward to both my birthday and Christmas. Dan and I picked up 43 books for $25. So cool.

6. Roasted carrots and rutabaga. This has become my favorite new dinnertime side. Chop up the veggies, toss with a little olive oil, salt and pepper and bake for 30 minutes at 350. I'm amazed by how something this delicious could be so easy.

7. Gap Individuals: The Artist. It smells clean yet woodsy and it's long-lasting. I love catching random whiffs of it throughout the day. It makes me smile.

8. Wawa coffee runs on cold weekend mornings. Yes, my toes freeze into little caramel icicles and the sensation of freezing rain running down my neck is horrible, but the first sip of vanilla coffee makes it all worthwhile.

Still at the end of every hard earned day people find some reason to believe

2009-10-21T21:18:00.001-04:00

I'm not a religious person. My mom tried to raise a good little Hindu and for a while there, she did a pretty admirable job (still a vegetarian -- good job, Mom!). But then, I grew up and realized that matted hair can turn into a river just as easily as a guy can build a boat big enough for two of every species. I.E. - Not at all (Sorry, Mom).

I don't believe in one specific deity and honestly, think the whole 'one path to salvation' thing is a load of bollocks. Primarily because no-one knows for sure. Yes, there are books and scripture and angry men yelling on television but no-one has come back from the dead with irrefutable proof screaming, "No! No! Stop it! Tear down the churches, temples and mosques! We're all supposed to worship Xenu!"

A lack of belief in organized religion doesn't preclude me from having faith. I believe. Fervently. I believe in the concept of a soul. I believe that there is inherent good in almost everyone (yes, that includes utter shitbags like Glenn Beck and Michelle Malkin) and I believe in the power of music.

That last one especially.

Vonnegut, like he did with so many other things, hit the nail on the head when he said he wanted his epitaph to read: "The only proof he needed for the existence of God was music."

For the most part, scripture leaves me cold. Yes, some of it features pretty language as well as sage advice, but it doesn't really affect me. Not in any real way. Ditto religious ceremonies. They don't feel like I'm communing with the divine as much as it feels like I'm mechanically going through the motions and paying lip service.

But music? Live music, especially? Well, that's a different story. The rumble of a bassline as it snakes through the floor and into your body, the pounding volley of drums and the howl, moan, whisper, shriek and scream of the almighty electric guitar? It's the closest I've ever come to feeling even the remotest spark of the divine.

I saw Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band play the Philadelphia Spectrum last week. I've always liked Springsteen. He's a fantastic storyteller, a damn fine guitarist and one of the last few honorable men left standing in rock music.

I expected a great concert. Especially since the Spectrum (the first major venue Springsteen ever played) was being demolished before year's end.

What I didn't expect was to have this faith completely renewed and reinforced in one night.

I've seen countless musicians but none who perform with the unadulterated joy that Springsteen and E Street Band does.

I have yet to see any musician who seems to need the audience as much as Bruce. Not only does he thrive on performing, but it seems to sustain him. Performing seems to keep his heart pumping.

Being in the Spectrum that night amidst a sea of people -- all of whom were swaying, singing along and completely lost in the moment -- made me feel like I was part of something bigger and better than myself. Something brimming, if not damn near spilling over, with hope and the promise of a brighter tomorrow.

I'm not saying Springsteen is God. That honor is obviously reserved for Clapton, but what I am saying is that last week, I saw Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band in concert. And afterwards, I felt good. Filled with hope and goodwill towards my fellow man. A little more connected than I had been a mere three hours before.

I may never believe in scripture, learn a prayer by heart and actively participate in any sort of religious ceremony. But I believe in Bruce Springsteen and the potency of music...and for me, that's more than enough.

It's time for a throwback

2009-10-12T18:45:00.003-04:00

Me and Mom, circa 1984.

Mom looks exactly the same. I do not.

Grace In Small Things - 9/365

2009-10-08T20:06:00.000-04:00

1. 'Ask Hadley' in the Guardian's style section.

2. Hot, buttered bagels. Never really been much of a schmear kinda girl (cue the death threats from New Yorkers), but there's something really comforting and delicious about a perfectly toasted bagel with butter.

3. Cardigans. I need to own more. They're both pretty and cozy.

4. The fact that dogs get treats at the Chik-Fil-A drive thru. Last time I was there, I saw a chocolate lab leaning out of the window to get a dog biscuit while his owner picked up some human food (sidebar: waffle fries with ranch dressing and a big lemonade is truly a perfect combination). It was adorable and I strongly urge all dog owners to hit up their local Chik-Fil-A to grab some tasty treats for themselves and their pooches!

5. The fact that I've started writing again. It's this silly little fiction piece I've been batting around in my head for a while. Hardly The Great Gatsby or The Life of Pi, but fun. One of the things I love most about this is how excited I am. I'm really interested in seeing how things turn out for these characters....and then, I realize I'm the only pulling the strings. I haven't felt like this in a while.

I'm saving my sick-days till when I'm feeling better.

2009-09-23T20:43:00.003-04:00

I've been sick for the past couple of days (just a cold and not the hye-nye...I hope) and as a result, I've been a bit of a grouchy bastard.

Bound to happen, really. I mean, my throat feel like someone vigorously attacked it with a cheese grater, my head feel like an orange on a toothpick and I have about as much energy as an extra from Dawn of the Dead. You'd be a grouchy bastard too.

So, to make up for all that bad mojo, here is a list of unrelated things that make me feel like less of a grouchy bastard and more like my cheerful, sunny self:

- The phrase 'Grouchy bastard.'
- Dan going on Wawa runs for me and coming home with hot chocolate and soft pretzels. I love that man.
- Soft pretzels from the Philly Pretzel Factory. They're even better when they're slightly burned. Mmmm....
- Hoodies, jeans and flip-flops and weather that facilitates the wearing of the aforementioned (mid 60s and sunny).
- The way sunlight sparkles through leaves.
- Realizing there is an applicable Simpsons quote for pretty much every situation.
- Any conversation with my sister.
- Finding really old mix CDs in your car -- I still love-love-love Something Corporate.
- French fries from Five Guys. Perfectly salted, crunchy and best of all, they actually taste like potatoes.
- The Guardian's Word of Mouth blog.
- The smell of cedar smoke.
- Clean-smelling cologne. We had some suits in the office a few weeks ago and while none of them were particularly attractive, they smelled amazing and actually had me swooning for a second. Chalk it up to the power of Hugo Boss.
- Boston Terriers. Especially cuddly ones with overbites

- Adam Carolla.
- The return of Fringe. I'm so glad that Joshua Jackson is back on television again.
- The B.S. Report with Bill Simmons.
- American Eagle T-Shirts. So comfy.
- Making faces with my nieces. Theirs are always so much cuter than mine.
- Balsamic vinegar drizzled on pizza.
- Listening to Norah Jones on a rainy afternoon.
- Smokey Robinson's cover of Don't Know Why.
- Forehead kisses.
- Gin cocktails.
- Charles Bukowski's poetry.
- My tumblr. It's a virtual inspiration board and I kinda love/need that.
- Andrea of Caffeinate Me. She inspired this post, she's one of my favorite bloggers and the girl has kickass taste in pretty much everything ever.

Oh ok. Down came the rain and washed the spider... oh bollocks.

2009-09-11T18:06:00.002-04:00

Welcome to Running Commentary Friday! I think this might become a blog staple.

Let me set the stage for you -- I'm sleepy, undercaffeinated, cold and rain-soaked. Oh yeah. It's going to be a good day.

7:36: I would like to know which half-wit planned the corporate center I work in. Running through a streaming river in the pouring rain, sodding my jeans and freezing my toes is not a good way to start a Friday morning.
7:57: I love technology. Dana and I watched The Vampire Diaries "together" last night despite living 1000 miles apart. As for the show, it was a pretty solid pilot -- funny, smart, filled with pretty people and just enough teenage angst to keep things interesting. As Dana put it last night, "I want a Stefan and Damon sandwich....with Dana in the middle!" See, this is why she's one of my best friends. Well, that coupled with the fact that she's got great taste in music, always down to eat good food and makes me cackle when I laugh. Good times.
8:22: Now that England has officially qualified for the World Cup, I need to start making plans. #1 - I need to make it down to Florida to watch games with my sister and my boys (Biffle, McGillis -- I'm looking in your direction) and #2 - I need to stock up on red and white facepaint.
8:38: Speaking of red, I'm trying to determine what I'm allergic to. I have a very angry-looking, itchy red splotch on the left side of my neck. Perfume? Lotion? Either way, it's not cute.
8:57: Police officer just walked in. Mmmm....hope everything's OK. The last thing we need is a mandatory evac.
9:25: No, not again. I... why does it say paper jam when there is no paper jam? I swear to God, one of these days, I just kick this piece of shit out the window.
9:26: Samir is my homeboy.
9:30: Annnndddd, there's a tornado watch in effect. Awesome.
10:02: Flash flood watch until 4:00? Even better.
10:14: Mmmm....soft pretzel. I love Philly.
10:46: Yay for co-workers having babies! Congratulations, Shawn! I can't wait to see pictures of your baby boy!
12:46: Mmmm....Mediterranean orzo pasta salad.
1:07: Note to self -- do not watch The Glenn Beck Show tonight. Don't even pause on it when you're channel-surfing because the hypocrisy will cause you to stroke out. I seriously do not have a middle finger big enough for this d-bag.
1:23: As a general rule, camgirls are morons when it comes to politics. And sometimes, they're hypocrites too! Fun times!
1:47: Itchy....itchy....itchy......
1:51: Dude, the 2009 Graduation Mickey Ears aren't available? Damn it. I was going to get my sister a pair in anticipation for our Disney Graduation Extravaganza.
1:52: Any Disney rides I must hit? We've never been (and I lived in Orlando for four years, can you believe that?) and I'd appreciate the recommendations.
3:09: Who is making popcorn? It smells like a movie theater and I'm salivating like one of Pavlov's pooches. Although, you know what? Not really a fan of movie theater popcorn anymore. It tastes different now than it did when I was a kid. Less delicious, more styrofoam peanutty. And Golden Topping? What the effery is that? Firstly, golden is not a flavor and what the hell is it? It's some sort of dubious liquid that may as well be motor oil and people drench their food with it. Blech. They should sell kettle corn in movie theaters. That would be awesome.
3:40: I'm delivering board books. Here's to hoping my craptastic sense of direction fails me spectacularly.
4:17: Eff you in the eye, Mapquest. Why are so you insistent on giving me the longest, most inefficient route possible?
4:38: Jamison Parker's cover of Everybody Wants To Rule The World rules!
4:47: Dude, how am I lost on a driveway? Jesus, where is this house anyway?
4:49: Holy mother of God...she lives in a museum.
4:58: I. Hate. Unpaved. Roads.
5:10: Sweatpants and a t-shirt from 1998 = Awesome.

Grace in Small Things - 8/365

2009-09-08T18:45:00.002-04:00

1. My sister's graduation present. Dan and I are taking her to the Magic Kingdom. I can't wait!

2. Sam Trammell who plays Sam Merlotte on True Blood. I really, really want to smooch him. Really.

I have dreams about it and everything. He tastes like Jack and Coke. My dreams are Vivid (and yes, that's intentional capitalization because I'm cheeky).

3.New drinks at Starbucks. I'm pretty straightforward when it comes to my drink order - nonfat, no whip vanilla latte, but this weekend, I tried both the Pumpkin Spice chai and the espresso truffle and now, I am in love. So good.

4. Ploughman's Pickle sandwiches. English, totally delicious (despite that face Dan made when he opened the jar for me and took a whiff of the pickley goodness within) and available for me to munch on at all times since I bought a jar of the stuff at Wegman's. Mmmm...English food.

5. Cinnamon-Struesel candles burning in a clean apartment.

6. Supernatural. Dan picked up the first season on DVD yesterday and we blew through three episodes by bedtime. It's like a younger X-Files that focuses less on little green men and more on things that go bump in the night. Smart, well-written and legitimately creepy. I'm a fan.

I got married at the Chapel O' Love....?!

2009-09-05T07:48:00.004-04:00

Dan and I had another conversation about weddings last night and it ended where it always ends -- up in the air.

The wedding industrial complex is a money-hungry beast intent on devouring every last red cent you have...and unbelievably enough, people are more than willing to feed it.

There's the ceremony, the location for the reception, the caterer, the open bar, the DJ, the rings, the dress, the suit, the invitations, the flowers, the photographer, the favors and a litany of other things I'm sure I'm forgetting.

According to CostofWedding.com, the average price of a wedding in my zip code is between $39,164 and $65,274.

What. The. Fuck?

That's a salary. That's actually more than a salary to some people. And it all goes towards one day.

Wow...

So, let's do a line by line breakdown of how much it would cost for your neighborhood friendly blogger to get married, shall we?

Ceremony: Dan and I would actually save money here since we're planning a completely secular union. Not holding the ceremony in a church or paying a pandit to tell us when to walk around a fire = cash in pocket. Sweet. Of course, we might regret this decision when we're roasting in the fiery pits of hell or when we're reincarnated as tapeworms, but for right now -- we're golden.

Reception Location: Our biggest problem here is finding a convenient location for both his family (who live in Pennsylvania) and my family (who live in Florida). Initially, I thought Florida would work as a viable option because his family could come for the wedding and stay for the theme parks. However, once I realized how inconvenient (and expensive) it would be for me to tour the facility and meet with caterers, DJs and photographers - I put the kibosh on it. A good location is also pretty costly -- most I've seen start at $1000 and it's more if you want to get married on a weekend (which we do).

CostofWedding.com says:

$1,680-$2,800

Caterer: We need a caterer who cooks good vegetarian food. When half of your guests are vegetarians, a pasta and grilled veggie plate just isn't going to cut it. If I was definitely getting married in Philly, I would have Palace at the Ben cater the affair -- not only would they make the Indian contingent happy, but their rates are 50% less than most other caterers.

$65 a person (non-vegetarian catering) x 60 = $3,900
$25 a person (vegetarian) x 40 = $1000

Total: $4,900

Open Bar: No question about it, you need an open bar at your wedding. No bar = no fun = everyone hates you = you die alone and friendless. While I'm a big advocate of getting my friends and family hammered, it's an expensive endeavor. Remember that time you got bombed on Jager and bought everyone a round? Times that by 100. Yeah.

CostofWedding.com says:

$3,059-$5,098

The DJ: Any DJ who relies on the Chicken Dance and the Electric Slide should be taken out back and drowned in a puddle. I don't need Steve Aoki or Samantha Ronson to spin at my wedding, but I want someone who can effortlessly segue between Motown, classic rock, pop, the standards and R&B. I'm totally serious about that Chicken Dance thing, by the way. I fully plan on having a ClearChannel-esque Do Not Play list and God help the poor bastard if he ignores it. I'll stab him with the cake topper.

CostofWedding.com says:

$864-$1,436

The Rings: I don't need something from Tiffany's and I'm pretty sure Dan doesn't either.

CostofWedding.com says:

Bride: $1,367-$2,278
Groom: $1,098-$1,831

Total: $2,465 (if we went with the cheapest option)

Wardrobe: In a perfect world, this would be my wedding dress:

Unfortunately, this is the real world and in the real world, I am not BFF with John Galliano. Damn.

$395 for this dress
$350 for accessories (shoes and jewelry)
$400 for Dan's suit
$200 for accessories (tie, cufflinks, shoes)
Hair (according to CostofWedding): $102-$170
Make-Up: (according to CostofWedding): $81-$135
Manicure/Pedicure (according to CostofWedding): $66-110

Total: $1,594 (if we went with the cheapest options)

Invitations: I'm picky when it comes to typography and graphic design, so I want cool invitations. Not cardstock with garish Lucida text screaming at me. Two of the best ones I've seen online feature a pretzel twisted into the shape of a heart (so Philly) and one that resembles the tracklist of a mix-tape. Awesome and original. In addition to invitations, you also need place cards and thank you cards. Sorry, Rainforest.

CostofWedding says:

Invitations: $356-$594
Place Cards: $19.99 at moo.com
Thank You Cards: $98-$164

Total: $473.99 (if we went with the cheapest options)

Flowers: I'm not a flower person at all. I have a black thumb, not a green one and don't really see the point of having a bouquet. That nets us a saving of $196-$327 (and sidebar: for flowers?! Seriously?! They're going to die in less than 24 hours!)

Photographer: Another thing I'm picky about. I took a photography class in college and realized there's way more to it than pointing and shooting. It's incredibly technical and a good photographer is hard to find. Besides, if this is themostimportantdayofyourlife®, you probably want to be well-lit.

CostofWedding says:

$1,875-$3,124

Favors: We're doing mix CDs of music heard at the wedding as well as a few of our favorite tracks. Why? It's personal, cheap and honestly, no-one really cares about those crappy little candles.

100 Blank CDs: $30
100 CD Jewel Cases: $36.99

Total: $66.99

So, the grand total for our wedding so far:

Location: $1,680
Food: $4,900
Bar: $3,059
DJ: $864
Rings: $2,465
Wardrobe: $1,594
Invitations/Paper Goods: $473.99
Photographer: $1,875
Favors: $66.99

Grand Total: $16,977.98...and that's leaving a whole bunch of stuff out (gifts for the wedding party, save-the-date magnets, airfare if we hold the wedding in Florida...).

Seventeen thousand dollars.

The financial burden usually falls on the bride's family, but this bride-to-be? My parents are small business-owners in a lousy economy. They've got a mortgage and car payments like everyone else. You really think I'm going to ask them to pony up $17K? Come on, that's a dick move.

So, $17,000+. We could buy a new car, put some money down for a house, buy awesome new furniture, travel around Europe or we could have a wedding. I realize that when you get married, you get some of the money back but this isn't Goodfellas. We're not going be making $17K back. No way.

Do I want a wedding? Yes.
Can I afford one? No.

Life's tough. Get a helmet.

Fat Elvis impersonator, here we come....

Herman Melville was such an overlooked nobody when he was alive that when he died, his obituary reported his name as Henry Melville

2009-09-03T19:22:00.000-04:00

"I'm a rock critic. I also write and record music. I write poetry, fiction, straight journalism, unstraight journalism, beatnik drivel, mortifying love letters, death threats to white jazz critics signed "The Mau Maus of East Harlem," and once a year my own obituary (latest entry: "He was promising...")." - Lester Bangs.

While I am not a rock critic nor musician, I do consider myself a writer. I write fiction, scripts, straight journalism, blog posts, television recaps about truly awful shows, poetry so bad it would impress the Vogons, frothing, foaming emails about how I would like advocates of creationism to be consumed by a hoard of rabid, starving raptors and notes inside greeting cards which fall just short of being clever.

As Mr. Bangs' work is inclined to do, it got me thinking.

I've read entirely too many of my high school classmates' obituaries and I'm struck by two things.

One -- I'm way too young to be reading an obit for someone who sat behind me in biology class.
Two -- Obits are, as a general rule, total bullshit.

They're soft-focus memories of a person coupled with generic writing that could be about anyone. I'm sure they're done with the best intentions and can be comforting in times of grief, but I'd much rather memorialize someone for a unique attribute (like wearing plaid golf pants every day in eighth grade) than the fact that he was an accountant.

So, I'm taking a page out of Bangs' book and writing my own.

Am I tempting fate by doing this? I hope not. I want to live to be an old woman with skin like paper with a penchant for wearing Pucci caftans and making great cookies (I'm still working on the cookie thing and you know I've realized? The doughboy is my homeboy).

Is it morbid to write your own obit? Sure, but I think I know myself better than anyone else does and I'd much rather go out in my own words than anyone else's.

If Twitter Wasn't Firewalled...

2009-08-26T18:56:00.005-04:00

Here's what I'd be saying.

And yes, I realize that I could just as easily Twitter from my Blackberry, but I stil haven't gotten used to the keys and predictive texting makes me want to punch cute little woodland creatures. In the face. Repeatedly.
So anyway....

9:40: Dan just sent me the following:

Steven Tyler looks horrible.

9:40: To which I responded:

Steven Tyler looks like Rachel Zoe in ten years.

Seriously – dude looks like a lady….who lunches on Palm Beach Island.

9:41: In all honesty, though? I wish I could dress like Rachel Zoe. On me, though? It would definitely look like Drunken Palm Beach Lady Who Lunches.
10:08: I want a huge cup of coffee.
10:08: 20 oz. Frosty Cold. Illy. One Cream. Two Brown Sugars.
10:09: Oooh....and a bagel! Multigrain with butter.
10:10: From here - Brooklyn Water Bagels. I can't wait for Christmas in South Florida!
11:04: Spend 15 minutes composing a mini travel guide for a co-worker's trip to London. I should be in London right now - Wandering city streets, spending entirely too much time in museums and used bookstores, hanging out with the Trans-Atlantic Best Friend and eating Ploughman's Pickle sandwiches at an absurd rate (and yes, I know Twitter would have punted me a long time ago for exceeding the 140 character limit, but since I'm using Google Docs, I see no need to be slavish to the form. And by the by? Google Docs? I love you. You're totally my BFFE!)
11:20: I think about food a lot.
11:29: I just spent three minutes spelling 'org' on the phone. That's a minute a letter. It shouldn't be that hard...
11:34: And we're back to food again thanks to this article. Crisp sandwiches, tons of cheese, frozen peas, fried spaghetti and marmite? Definitely my people.
12:03: According to Twilight, the smell of Bella's blood gives Edward a vamp woody. That being said, what happens when during Bella's 'time of the month'? Priapism? Anyone care to shed some light on this -- Stephanie Meyer, Dana, Joss Whedon, Alan Ball, Kevin Williamson....?
1:24: Megan Fox as Catwoman in Nolan's next Batman installment? I call shenanigans.
1:25: I mean, there's no way Nolan would ever cast her. She sucks.
1:27: There go the wet dreams of a thousand men...
2:15: Why does the office smell like a Cosmo? The drink, not the magazine or the Seinfeld character.
3:27: I have Under My Thumb by The Rolling Stones stuck in my head.
3:40: Just help decorate my co-worker's office with pictures of cartoon pickles. I love my office.
4:15: Knock off in ten and then, quality time with Raymond Chandler while I wait for Dan.

Grace in Small Things - 7/365

2009-08-24T17:07:00.002-04:00

1. Finding $20 in a library book!
2. My So-Called Life on Hulu. Watching this show makes me wish I had attended a Northeastern high school in the early 90s.
3. Rainbow cookies....which are actually more like mini cakes than cookies. I especially like the kind make with raspberry preserves. Fabulous!

4. Kings of Leon.
5. The return of Top Chef and Season Five pool - Pick your favorite cheftestant and if they make it all the way -- you go out to Happy Hour and everyone buys you drinks! Best. Game. Ever. Although, if I win -- everyone gets off easy. I'm a featherweight.
6. The Goonies. Dan and I saw a midnight screening in Philly a few weeks ago and it was incredible! Definitely in my top ten of all time.

You fail at the internet. See also: Life.

2009-08-15T08:24:00.003-04:00

For the past few months, this woman has been cc'ing me about this trip to Russia -- some student program out of Massachusetts involving presentations and meetings and all sorts of mundane stuff I really don't care about.

It's obviously a case of mistaken identity, so I've emailed her a few times stating that I'm not the intended recipient of this email chain and I'd really appreciate it if she take me off this list.

I get another email from her yesterday and within the hour, five more people had hit 'reply all', flooding my inbox with information I do not need, do not want and do not care about.

My response: "Please please please please please take me off this list."

Lots of pleases because I'm English and all about minding my Ps and Qs.

I get an email back from her today saying, "I don’t think you got this information. We really do need to meet this other Jaime, but boy does she seem like a bi...."

Genius that she is (keep in mind she's an educational program director) - she sent this to the Other Jaime . I.E. -- Me.

Awesome! Nothing like being roundly insulted by a stranger to get your weekend off to a good start!

Firstly, I'm shocked that there's someone else out there with the same name as me. Google only brings back hits that relate to me.

Secondly, if you're going to insult someone over email -- shouldn't you double-check the address? I mean, seriously.

This women is the director of a higher-level education program. I weep for the future...

Dear Carrie Bradshaw

2009-08-07T17:39:00.003-04:00

Hi!

I'm Jaime and I'm a huge fan.

Granted, I find your punny writing somewhat obnoxious, think you're batshit insane for picking any man over Ron Livingsto...I mean, Jack Berger, have no idea how you possibly subsidize your Manolo-and-kickass-NYC-Brownstone life on a columnist's salary (I'm guessing you're probably spending lots of time underneath Republican politicians) and think some of your sartorial choices are truly wanky. Case in point:

The Dirndl dress. Really, Carrie? Really? And sidebar, this picture is 66.6 kb and I totally think that's a sign, but anyway -- apart from all that...

....OK. OK, so I'm not a huge fan, but I have a shoe dilemma and honestly, can you think of a better person to help me than a fictional fashionista with a shoe fetish?

That's what I thought.

I need a pair of boots with the following specifications:

- Affordable - $50 or less.
- Preferably black.
- Small heel -- I don't want to go completely flat because I'm pocket-sized as is and I don't want sky-high heels because I'm not a hooker.
- Relatively comfortable - because I'll be wearing them for nine hours a day.
- Suitable to wear with both jeans and business casual
- Mid-calf length - no booties, no ankle boots, no knee-highs.

So, there's your mission. Good luck and if you happen to see Berger around, send him my way. I've got a thing or two I wanna show that guy....

Thanks!

Lots of love:

Jaime xx

Grace In Small Things - 6/365

2009-08-04T19:11:00.001-04:00

1. Finding a cute birthday present for my sister. I just hope she finds it as adorable as I do.

2. Stirrings Lemon Drop Mixer + tonic water + passion fruit flavored vodka on the rocks. I'm calling it a Sunsplash and suggesting everyone try one.

3. December 16-29 in Florida. I'm stoked!

4. The B.S. Report with Bill Simmons. Perfect for the treadmill because before you know it, you've listened to the entire podcast, laughed your ass off and managed to sneak in a pretty good work-out. Thanks, Sports Guy!

5. Sweet-Spicy-Salty Oyster Crackers -- my favorite new snack. Here's the recipe. I don't have pictures because they're never around long enough for me to actually take them.

Ingredients

1 cup oyster crackers
1 tablespoon canola oil
Pinch of cumin seeds
Pinch of salt (to taste but be careful because oyster crackers are kinda salty to begin with)
Pinch of sugar (to taste but be careful because if you add too much, the sugar will burn, stick to the bottom of the pan and you'll end up with an inedible mess instead of a tasty snack)
Pinch of hot cayenne pepper (to taste but again be careful because you know what's awesome? Not searing off all of the taste receptors in your mouth)

Directions

Heat oil in saucepan.
Once hot, add cumin seeds and let sizzle (this takes a few minutes).
Add cayenne pepper and let sizzle.
Add salt and sugar and shake mixture.
Add oyster crackers and fold until crackers are covered in spice mixture.
Turn off heat and let sit for two or three minutes.
Enjoy!

Serve with a cold drink and good movie/television show.

Fall Scene

2009-08-02T09:26:00.002-04:00

Fall Scene, originally uploaded by LB2556.

I have been living in the north entirely too long because I'm actually looking forward to fall.

Me -- the girl of perpetual summer (although I do love Florida winters - hoodies and flip-flops ♥)

A nip in the air that makes you snuggle deeper into your hoodie, running around with Ryely on sun-splashed chilly days, seasonal hot coffee, the bright blush of the leaves, football season, the way the stars seem brighter and more crystalline in cold weather, wearing boots (when have I ever favored boots over flip-flops? Pennsylvania, what are you doing to me?), sweatpants, new fall television (Dollhouse and Fringe come back!), Thanksgiving, sleeping in on cold Sunday mornings and cuddling under the covers.

It's been a great summer and it's going to be a lovely fall...

Grace In Small Things - 5/365

2009-07-28T19:11:00.003-04:00

Today has been a rough one and since I'm all emotional disheveled, I figure I should take stock of the good things.

1. Homemade pizza. I've found that it tastes so much better than take-out.

2. My cute new scarf from Forever 21.

3. 500 Days of Summer. Honest, funny, sharp and well-written with an incredible soundtrack, it's the best movie I've seen this year and it makes me want to move to Los Angeles so, so badly...

4. Boots Mint, Melon and Sugar Body Scrub - It smells like candy and results in smooth, seriously moisturized skin. Best of all, it's available at Target! God, I love that store.

5. Why Georgia by John Mayer feat. Brad Paisley -- Love the original, but love the cover even more.

John Mayer and Brad Paisley - Why Georgia (Live)

It makes me feel safe, if that makes any sense at all.

1095 Days of Love

2009-07-27T08:27:00.003-04:00

The perfect anniversary is spent wandering around the Philadelphia Art Museum -- falling in love with the paintings, the architecture and your guy, all over again. It's little moments that make your day - singing together in the car - kinda off-key, Illy coffee in 85 degree heat, an Edward Hopper print, sitting on the steps, looking out at Old City and not wanting to be anywhere else in the world.

It's Turkish food in a secluded oasis - cold mezes, rich olive oil, flaky baskets of phyllo and the best falafel in the city. It's being with a guy who indulges your culinary whims, despite being a meat and potatoes man.

It's 500 Days of Summer in the popcorn-scented darkness, the taste of real Coca-Coca, holding hands and developing respective crushes on Zooey Deschanel and Joseph Gordon Levitt. It's parking garage kisses and heat lightning. It's summer storms, giggling in the car and running in from the rain.

It's 1095 days of love and knowing that there are so many more to come.

Happy anniversary, pookie. I love you. Always will.

My sister and I should be in charge of programming at MTV

2009-07-23T19:24:00.003-04:00

Sarika: Oh Christ. How are birthers getting so much airtime?!
Jaime: I don't know -- I mean, why are we even legitimizing their bullshit? I'm just going to start making up baseless rumors.
Sarika: Seriously, you'll get on cable news in minutes
Jaime: Sean Hannity was born a black woman in antebellum Mississippi

Sarika: Nah, stick with unknown repubs, get them some airtime. That dude who was on the Real World is running for the house as a conservative republican that's actually true
Jaime: NO WAY!
Sarika: yep, the one from boston season. the guy who was a lumberjack
Jaime: Oh! Sean!
Sarika: http://3pts.wordpress.com/2009/07/02/ashland-county-district-attorney-sean-duffy-likely-to-run-for-congress/
Jaime: He married Rachel from RW 3 -- the Cuban Republican
Sarika: oh geez, well, he's running against a popular republican so he'll probably lose
Jaime: I don't know -- people are stupid and easily lead
Sarika: popular democrat* sorry
Jaime: Especially young people
Sarika: also, apparently, a lot of people in DC are pissed about the real world cast being there
Jaime: Although that season was a while ago, so who knows? They might not even know him!
Sarika: Probably, considering that he didn't have a three way in a hot tub while trying to further his rap career
Jaime: Career? Please! You know how much money those idiots make on the lecture circuit?
Sarika: Wait, seriously? Why the hell would anyone want them to lecture about ANYTHING?
Jaime: Go on real world and then, bum around for the next ten years doing club appearances and lectures

Sarika: Part of me wants to go on the show and just ruin things
Jaime: Yep -- they visit colleges all over the place and talk about their experiences. How so?
Sarika: like when people are having an argument go into the room and start singing or yelling loudly. that'll piss not only the roommates off, but the editors too.
Jaime: Start stumping for some insane political ideal -- "WHIG PARTY FOREVER!"
Sarika: so they can't use the footage
Jaime: Or just use a bunch of copyrighted terms -- "Oh Coca-Cola! You ARE the real thing!""Nike, you Just Do It better than the rest!"
Sarika: And paint things on the walls, like arbitrary political slogans -"Tippecanoe and Tyler too!""McGovern 72!"
Jaime: I Like Ike!
Sarika: Now you're getting it!
Jaime: God, that would be my favorite season ever
Sarika: I want to make it impossible to use any of my footage. And then ruin others' on air time
Jaime: Also, you should ask the blindingly obvious questions that the audience is screaming at the television - "So, hooked up with a married guy, huh? How's that being a whore thing treating you?"
Sarika: "Why are you yelling about a Snapple? is it because the camera is there?"
Jaime: "It's a good thing they're blurring your genitals because they're embarrassingly small."
Sarika: "do you really think your rap career will succeed? you're not very good.""no, NOT using a condom is the number one contributor to pregnancy"
Jaime: "You're just kissing that girl to get back at your father for not being around..."
Sarika: "why are you talking about gay marriage? you're completely politically uninformed. do you even know who your congressman is?"

Sarika: have you noticed that people's names on that show are getting more and more strange?
Jaime: Oh sweet Jesus, they're SO bad
Sarika: Khymmberlie. I made that up, but it is possible
Jaime: Ayiiaa. I didn't make that one up
Sarika: This season, i saw a commercial for it, there's a girl named Aiyaa. Yeah! Something like that, I knew it. TOO MANY VOWELS
Jaime: Cohutta. I KNOW!
Sarika: Brawny! That's an adjective!
Jaime: The quilted quicker picker upper or Connecticut WASP? You decide!
Sarika: I want there to be people who are in school on that show or working
Jaime: Kaia -- whose real name was Margaret. Are you there, God? It's me, Margaret. God, I'm tired of being a chubby outcast. Can you turn me into a pseudo-intellectual bulimic hipster with a ridiculous name?
Sarika: prayer answered
Jaime: I want that show to return to its roots -- first season, they lived in a cool loft, actually talked about things besides sex and had some diversity. Now? Generic hot people all vying for STDs and camera time
Sarika: I am going to go on now. i won't smoke, drink, or cause any drama. i will be non confrontational, but will paint copyrighted slogans everywhere and will play mind games with everyone by being entirely normal. i will find a job and ruin this show.
Jaime: Also, you can sing Prince songs EVERY time you're on camera. He's a litigious little leprechaun. They'll never be able to air that footage.

The average dog is a nicer person than the average person

2009-07-20T22:01:00.002-04:00

I love you, Nala girl. You were my stinky little princess and I'm going to miss you like crazy.

And honestly, how heartbreaking is that turtles live for 100 years and dogs only live for 15?

Rest in peace, girl. I'll be seein' ya...

Grace in Small Things - 4/365

2009-07-19T08:10:00.002-04:00

1. Cute new green and silver flip flops
2. Making anniversary plans -- Turkish food, the Art Museum....
3. The public library. I cannot stress how much I love the public library. I was there for two hours yesterday and picked up two Bourdain books (No Reservations and The Nasty Bits), The Last Tycoon by F. Scott Fitzgerald, Don't You Forget About Me by Jancee Dunn (I have a crush on pretty much every Rolling Stone writer), The Best Food Writing - 2007, Not Remotely Controlled by Lee Siegel and The Sharper The Knife, The Less You Cry by Kathleen Flinn. I've already finished the last one. Good times.
4. Momiji Dolls

They're ridiculously cute.
5. Lunch for one -- sitting in the sunshine, reading and munching on Cosi's flatbread hummus sandwiches. I need to do this more often.
6. Watching Goodfellas with Dan and talking about the mob and its culture of violence.

Why don't you come up and see me sometime...?

2009-07-14T21:01:00.001-04:00

excuse me, miss? i'll have another., originally uploaded by JKönig.

Hello lover...

Grace in Small Things - 3/365

2009-07-13T18:16:00.001-04:00

1. Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip on DVD
2. Jordan McDeere as a style icon.

3. Breakfast and a movie -- More fun and less trite than dinner and a movie. Also, way more recession-friendly.
4. Justin Bartha and Bradley Cooper all suited-up in The Hangover. Yes please!
5. New episodes of No Reservations on the Travel Channel starting tonight.

Grace in Small Things - 2/365

2009-07-07T20:59:00.002-04:00

1. Good Girls Go Bad by Cobra Starship

Cobra Starship - New Music - More Music Videos

2. Food blogs -- especially Lottie + Doof and Homesick Texan
3. The prospect of making mini quiches for dinner
4. Goodreads.com -- have an account? Let me know about it!
5. Seedless green grapes straight out of the fridge

I can't stop drinking the coffee, I stop drinking the coffee, I stop doing the standing and walking and the words putting into sentence doing.

2009-07-07T18:53:00.001-04:00

Every summer, I designate a cocktail for the season. Summer 2008, it was Absolut Pears and Sprite and this year, I'm kicking it old-school by ordering Tom Collins' at pretty much every bar I hit. Yes, I am an old man.

However, my non-alcoholic sponsor for summer since 2004 has been iced coffee. I got addicted to it in London where I'd slug down iced mochas and then, spend the day running around the city with my sister and my best friend. It was awesome.

My iced coffee needs are simple -- I don't need Starbucks or Dunkin Donuts (I'm not really a fan of either, anyway). Nothing cold-dripped or made Vietnamese style (although that does sound delicious), just regular coffee brewed up and dropped in the fridge overnight to chill.

So, last Thursday, I made myself a tumbler to take into work. It was perfect - rich and strong with a little sugar and vanilla. Add a couple of ice cubes and some half-and-half and I'm in love.

I drank about half the tumbler and left the rest in the fridge, figuring I could grab some when I came into the office on Tuesday.

I get in this morning, looking forward to my jolt of caffeine and sugar. I fling open the fridge door, reach in and grab....nothing.

My coffee is gone. Tumbler and all. Dub tee eff.

The GD Scale: Office Edition

1. Using tired cliches like, "Working hard or hardly working?" Really, dude? Really?
2. Using the last of the paper in the copier/fax machine and not replacing it. It takes all of three seconds and makes life easier for the next five people who use the machine.
3. Not using the Outlook calendar. It makes your life so easy. Why wouldn't you use it?
4. Making stinky food in the communal microwave and having the entire office reek of substandard beef lo mein for hours afterwards. I'm not judging. I love stinky food -- onions, garlic, gorgonzola... -- but there's a time and a place. And that place is not the office.
5. Swiping the cute assistant's coffee from the fridge. The cute assistant needs her iced coffee. It keeps her cheerful and perky and totally able to deal with people who call and ask point blank, "Is she there yet?" (Ummm, who?)

Sp tonight, I'm making a new batch and if it gets swiped this time, heads will roll...and by heads will roll, I mean I'll gripe to anyone who will listen, make that crinkly nose face I make and close the book on the thing by blogging.

I'm not very hardcore.

Grace In Small Things - 1/365

2009-07-01T18:57:00.001-04:00

1. Making travel plans with my sister -- Seattle, Chicago, New York....

2. Open windows and warm summer breezes.

3. Crusty bread with olive oil and balsamic vinegar

4. Organix Soft and Silky Vanilla Silk Serum

5. True Blood on HBO

He's got enough self-esteem issues being a Chihuahua, Mom.

2009-07-01T17:04:00.001-04:00

Dan and I were discussing Mark Sanford this morning:

Dan: Did you hear he said this Argentinian woman is his soul mate?
Me: He's a douche. He claims that marriage is sacred and was yelling for Clinton's blood and it turns out, he's doing the exact same thing. There's something very wrong with him.
Dan: I believe him.
Me: You do? You really think this woman is his soul mate?
Dan: Yeah. I mean, what if I had met someone who was nice and pretty and that I got along with just fine...
(At this point, I start thinking, "Oh God! He's talking about me! I'm the nice girl!")
Dan: ....and then, I met you. I couldn't stay with that woman knowing I belong with you.

This proves several things:

A) I have pitiful self-esteem. Seriously.
B) Dan is a lot more diplomatic than I am.
C) Dan is the sweetest guy ever. He wasn't being obsequious or saying this to get brownie points (which are insanely easy to earn with me because I am so damn susceptible to flattery). It was a simple statement of fact akin to water is wet...and that's why it meant so much.

Laughter is the shortest distance between two people.

2009-06-28T13:26:00.003-04:00

Dan: I love making you laugh. It's like crack for me.

Apparently, I became quite giggly at the marina bar yesterday. I think it was less the alcohol and more the fact that Dan just happens to be a pretty funny guy.

Tag! You're it!

2009-06-19T20:42:00.006-04:00

What is your current obsession? Iced coffee

(Photo by That Edit Girl)

- Dispatches From The Island - Jorge Garcia's Blog, Being Red, scrapbooking and summer craftiness.

What's for dinner? Burgers...although they were nowhere near as delicious as Spence's sliders. Every burger should be made of lentils and served with hunks of avocado.

(photo by: aloalosabine)

What's the last thing you bought? Scrapbook paper, cardstock, stickers and peanut M&Ms.

What are you listening to right now? The Beach Boys and Kings of Leon's Sex on Fire.

If you could go anywhere in the world for the next hour, where would you go? A coffee shop with my sister. I need to rant, gossip and imbibe in caffeine.

What's your favorite quote (for now)?

"The reason I'm running for president is because I can't be Bruce Springsteen." -- Barack Obama.

"Imagination will often carry us to worlds that never were. But without it we go nowhere.” -- Dr. Carl Sagan.

What's your favorite piece of clothing in your own wardrobe? My green polka-dot skirt.

What's your dream job? Writing/Blogging.

What's your worst habit? I have so many -- I'm terrible about returning phone calls, I pick at my nails and I spend entirely too much time online.

Do you admire anyone's style? Lauren Conrad

Nicole Richie

Diane Von Furstenberg

Describe your personal style? I'm a jeans, t-shirt and flip-flops kind of girl and oftentimes, it looks like the only reason I wear clothes is to prevent myself from being arrested. I need buckets of cash and a less cracked-out and ghoulish Rachel Zoe in my life.

What are your favorite movies? Almost Famous, American Beauty, the Back To The Future Trilogy, Batman Begins, Before Sunrise, Before Sunset, Chasing Amy, The Dark Knight, Empire Records, Field of Dreams, Good Will Hunting, The Goonies, Grindhouse, Halloween, Harold and Kumar Go To White Castle, Kiss Kiss Bang Bang, Love Actually, Office Space, Shakespeare In Love, Sleepless In Seattle, Swingers, True Romance

What inspires you? Words, sounds, images, people, food, drink, travel, being outside in the sunshine. Life, essentially.

What's your favorite book? The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald. It is a gorgeous novel.

Do you collect something? Not really, but I clip interesting articles and photographs from magazines.

What do you like most about yourself? My sense of optimism. I'm Little Miss Brightside.

What's your go-to nail polish color? Black or blackish red (like OPI's Black Cherry Chutney).

Now -- tell me all about you!

What do you think of when you think of Philadelphia? Ben Franklin? The Liberty Bell? Rocky? Cheesesteak? A witch shooting milk out of her tits?

2009-06-18T21:30:00.003-04:00

Philthadelphia got a little dirtier last weekend when Dana, Steve and Jerry came to visit. I can't believe how much we managed to squeeze into three days -- Pat's and Geno's, the Liberty Bell, the Mutter Museum, Reading Terminal Market, Olde City, Va La Winery, the NBA finals at Stadium Grille, tromping around nature and a mini True Blood season one marathon.

All in all, a great visit (despite the fact that their plane was ridiculously delayed and they ended up getting to my place at 3:00 a.m. -- dub, Southwest? Dub?) and I can't wait to see them again.

We started with The Great Philly Cheesesteak Taste-Off -- Pat's vs. Geno's. Our first stop was Geno's where the food was mediocre, the decor was touristy and garish and a framed photo of Sarah Palin made our collective stomachs turn. No bueno.

Then, we hit Pat's -- it's a little less flashy than Geno's, but the meat's better, the bread's better, the fries are better and there's no framed photos of halfwit politicians, so it was the obvious winner.

After checking out the Liberty Bell and learning that Ben Franklin was essentially a frat boy (all about beer, broads and farting, that dude...), we hit up the Mutter Museum. The museum is essentially a medical library founded by the Philadelphia College of Physicians and while small, is stocked with all sorts of crazy stuff -- paraphernalia on conjoined twins, creepy fetal skeletons, a nine-foot color containing 40lbs of fecal matter (too many cheesesteaks?) and books bound in human leather. Totally bizarre and totally awesome.

Looking at skulls and malignant tumors left us feeling peckish, so we hit the best lunch spot in the city -- Reading Terminal Market. I love this place. You can get crepes, dolmas, samosas, fresh produce, Amish goodies and BBQ ribs all under the same roof. What's not to like?!

In regards to the above picture, this is basically how it went down:

*CLICK*
Jerry: You know that's a garbage can, right?
Jaime: What? Oh, gross! You couldn't have told me before I licked it?
Jerry: It's funnier this way.

My friends are assholes.

I needed something to get the garbage can taste out of my mouth, so we went in search of a bar. A near impossible feat in Philly, right?

We ended up at Brownie's -- an Irish pub where the bartender was surly, the Tom Collins' were refreshing and the upstairs room was ours for the taking. We spent our time rocking out to The Faces, Better Than Ezra, Guns 'N Roses, Michael Jackson, Marvin Gaye and The Dropkick Murphys, playing darts, pool and basically acting like idiots. It was awesome.

Then, Dana and I got into a bar brawl with some dude named Bruce Banner. You wouldn't like us when we're angry....

After a day of Irish pubs and comic book stores, we decided to do something a little more sophisticated, so we headed to Avondale to the Va La Winery.

It was pretty sweet. Especially when Dana and I heard the magic words -- "Let me get you some more cheese."

Yeah, wine is pretty magical.

As I said before, it was a fantastic trip and it really made me miss living near my best friends. Everything from big stuff like wandering museums to little things like listening to truly awful music on the radio. Even though I live 1000 miles away from them, I am so incredibly lucky to have people like this in my life. So damn lucky and so damn loved.

...When The Livin's Easy

2009-06-06T13:43:00.004-04:00

This weekend: Drag Me To Hell, quality time at Ikea (this girl loves her Swedish homegoods), a 80s Pop Show by The Autumn Society of Philadelphia at Brave New Worlds, a midnight 35mm print screening of Ghostbusters at The Ritz at the Bourse and quality time in Downtown West Chester.

Next weekend -- Dana, Steve and The Best Friend will be in town, so I'll be spending some quality time at Independence Hall, National Mechanics' and in South Philly trying to convince the boys that if they eat a cheesesteak from both Pat's and Geno's in the same afternoon, their colons will explode with a fury not seen since Mount St. Helens blew up in 1980.

We're also thinking about hitting Adventure Aquarium in Camden and planning a trip for our anniversary in July.

Summer '09 looks like it might just be the best one yet....

One Reason To Inhale A Bottle of Xanax

2009-06-03T11:42:00.002-04:00

Dan just emailed me this thoroughly depressing though:

"Neither Brooke Hogan, nor her friend who is “really smart”, know who the Vice President is.

And they both have way more money than us.

We fail at life."

Have you ever been to Florida? It's a criminal population. It's America's Australia.

2009-05-29T17:08:00.002-04:00

Florida is all humidity, sun-baked palm trees, six-second showers and heat that smothers around you like a thick, heavy blanket.

It's big bombastic thunderstorms that rattle the windowpanes and cause car alarms to blare. It's rain so heavy, you can't see five feet in front of your face. It's the nostalgia and familiarity of Jason Davis and the Elevator From Hell. It's driving 20 mph on 95 due to the weather, singing along to non-offensive pop rock from the 90s and Steve Miller's Rockin' Me over and over and over again.

It's trying to surprise your mom but failing (thanks for keeping the secret, asshole) and walking into her work shouting, "Hey lady! How much for a shirt?" It's remembering just how tiny your Mom is. It's giving your dad a big hug and surprising yourself by getting teary-eyed over how much you missed the guy.

It's the world sweetest, smartest dogs -- Phoebedog's noises, Maya's wagging tail, Nala's big brown eyes, bellyrubs, stinky kisses and stealthy poops.

It's hugs-hugs-hugs-hugs, new jokes with old friends, apologizing for apologizing for calling one of your best friends a bitch while playing video games, dirty words on the board at Lush Manor, margaritas, Sparkletinis, berry vodka with soda while watching your memories flicker on screen and listening to the craziest, dirty-dirtiest hip hop.

It's homemade Indian food and the constant pestering to eat more, gossiping until midnight, the omnipresent prattle of the Indian satellite channel and watching Mom go gangbusters on bugs with her broom. It's the world's most comfortable couches, the head-nodding lullaby of the fan and raindrops hitting the big window, discovering ancient Judy Blume books in your old bedroom and laughing hysterically at Just As Long As We're Together and Are You There, God? It's Me, Margaret.

It's Spanglish on the radio, reggaeton blaring from souped-up Hondas, the excitement of discovering Jarritos in plastic bottles, it's talking about the space-time continuum from Lost and the grandfather paradox at the kitchen table and seeing condoms and pregnancy tests next to one another in the clearance aisle.

It's home. It's family. It's your heart. It's never wanting to leave but knowing you can always come back.

When Temporary Hearing Loss is Worth It...

2009-05-13T18:51:00.000-04:00

I get to the gym and notice the place is pretty busy.

Damn it.

Then, I notice both TVs are tuned to Fox News.

Damn it squared.

Glenn Beck is prattling on idiotically about how monogamous gay marriages will eventually lead to people marrying cupcakes or beavers or some other ridiculous, baseless shit (weren't arguments like this considered null and void with Loving vs. Virginia?)

Luckily, I have my trusty iPod, headphones and a collection of B.S. Reports featuring both Bill Simmons and Adam Carolla.

I switch it on at a pretty low volume and hit the treadmill.

Beck's still blathering on and I hear the following conversation:

Scary Buff Dude Who Doesn't Seem To Have A Home As He's Always At The Gym: (referring to Beck) Oh, I love this guy! He's great!
Exercise Bike Woman: He is! And he's right -- soon, it'll be three women marrying one man! It's all wrong!

Damn it cubed.

ClickclickclickclickCLICK!

That's the sound of my iPod hitting the highest volume and Adam Carolla blowing out my eardrums by bellowing about how he'd remove Talia Shire from every movie ever.

However compared to the fact that people actually buy into Beck's insipidity idiocy, it was a dulcet lullabye.

I'm down with Voltaire and believe that while I may not agree with what you say, you still have the right to say it....but when you're nodding emphatically at anything that comes out of Glenn Beck's mouth? Yeah....it's probably a better idea to just keep your mouth shut.

I love you, Mom!

2009-05-10T16:58:00.003-04:00

Ten Things I Love About Mom:

10. She's forged in steel. No matter how tough the situation, she handles it with grace and placidity. I am amazed by that because my modus operandi is to fall to pieces.
9. She's beautiful. She looks at least ten years younger than she really is and when she gets dressed up, she looks twenty years younger. It's amazing and I pray feverishly that I have inherited those genes.
8. She's an amazing cook. Every time I visited home from college, she would make potato and pea curry because she knew it was my favorite. I never even had to ask. I tried making potato and pea curry by myself and even though I followed the recipe exactly, it came out dry and crap-tasting. Damn.
7. She understands the importance of gossiping and being unquestionably judgmental. There is nothing better in this world than getting together with my mom and sister and talking about people.
6. She's really, really funny in a very dry way.
5. She's immensely intelligent. She speaks about four different languages, has a degree in accounting and knows exactly how to shut up her mouthy daughters and husband.
4. Paps would be useless without her. Now, I love him and all, but if she ever left him -- even for a day -- she'd come home to a smoldering pile of ashes and a rather forlorn man wearing clashing clothes and complaining of blinding hunger.
3. She doesn't put up with anyone's crap -- least of all, mine or Paps'.
2. Biggest work ethic I've ever seen. Mom puts Ryan Seacrest to shame.
1. She's my Mom. She had a hand into bringing me into this world, she played noughts-and-crosses with me when I was a kid, she makes laugh hysterically even when she's insulting me and she's the glue that holds our family together. We're a band of buggered without her.

Happy Mother's Day, Mom! I love you!

P.S. -- I didn't take Paps' copy of Angels and Demons. You know what I think happened? I think he left it at work and then, lost it. Now, he's looking for a convinient scapegoat and you know what? It's not going to be me! Besides, I offered to buy him a copy of the stupid book well before he started making these wild accusations!

You could put that fancy mustard on a shoe and it would taste pretty good to me.

2009-05-07T20:30:00.002-04:00

Sean Hannity, Laura Ingraham and Rush Limbaugh are criticizing a man for his choice of burger condiment.

Let me reiterate.

These three schmucks dedicated airtime to admonishing President Obama for his condiment choice.

The Republican party is imploding and this is what matters -- what the president puts on his burger.

Kudos. Way to hit him where it hurts.

Shouldn't you assholes be figuring out a way to make yourselves look a little less like exclusionary buffoons and more like capable leaders?

Oh and a helpful hint -- if you want to be the party of the future, try not to reference a commercial that came out twenty years ago

Why do you have to break up with her? Be a man. Just stop calling.

2009-05-05T20:48:00.002-04:00

vice., originally uploaded by hocouture.

Dear Diet Coke:

We need to talk.

We've been together for a little while now and we've had a good time but it's time for me to move on.

It's not you. It's me. Actually no. That's not right at all. It's you. All you, actually.

The thing is -- you're bad. Not in the fun way that involves tequila shots and utterly regrettable pictures the morning after, but bad in that whole Aspartame causes cancer in lab rats kinda way.

I love you. I really do. You're refreshing, sweet, bubbly, always there when I need you and God, I love the way you taste...but I can't do this anymore. This just isn't a healthy relationship anymore.

Listen, you're going to find someone new. Someone great who loves you and is totally willing to overlook the fact that some scientists believe that diet soda actually leads to weight gain and that Aspartame converts into methanol in your body.

Me, though? I'm moving on.

Thanks for the great memories.

Love:

Jaime xx

P.S. -- Restaurant booty calls are still OK under the Geneva Convention of Break-Ups. We'll do it fountain-style!

I'm losing my perspicacity!

2009-05-03T14:22:00.005-04:00

I think I have the Simpson Gene.

Yes, the last name 'Simpson' is about as prevalent in India as neighborhood steakhouses are, but the song remains the same.

Ladies and gents, I am getting dumber.

For those of you who didn't dedicate untold hours watching and rewatching episodes of The Simpsons, the Simpson gene is a cognitive anomaly which causes one to gradually lose their intelligence as they age and end up doing things like this:

Luckily for Lisa, the dreaded Simpson Gene only affected men. However, in the real world where people have five fingers instead of four -- The Simpson Gene is gender-blind.

In the past four months, I've stopped writing as much, I've forgotten where I parked my car, completely forgotten the definition of the word, 'esoteric', the capital of Nevada, whether it was Thomas Hobbes or John Locke who said that life was, "nasty, brutish and short" and sucked at Jeopardy. I never suck at Jeopardy!

What the hell is happening to me? I used to be smart as a monkey and now, I'm as dumb as a chimp.

Is this what happens post-college? You stop going to classes, you stop steeping in academia and you become a moron? Your intellect starts to molt and before you know it, you're actually taking Glenn Beck seriously?

I read constantly (books I finished this weekend: The Gospel According to Biff, Christ's Childhood Pal by Christopher Moore and Under the Tuscan Sun by Frances Mayes -- granted, it's not like I polished off War and Peace or anything, but hey -- give me credit for not spending my weekend nose-deep in Twilight), I'm much more politically involved than I used to be (well, as involved as one can be without actually partaking in the democratic process by voting), I have conversations with my buddy Will about the vastness and complexities of the universe and damn it, I watch Lost and spend hours theorizing about the show.

How can I possibly be getting dumber?!

Has anyone else experienced this? If so, how did you overcome it? Read more? Wrote more? Did quadratic functions for fun? Dove headfirst into spirituality? Became BFF with Stephen Hawking?

Please let me know. I'm rage, raging against the dying of intellect and would really appreciate a little light.

That'll put marzipan in your pie plate, bingo!

2009-05-02T19:52:00.002-04:00

Love is decorating each other's hands with bingo markers (orange and teal -- Go 'Fins!)
True love is terrorist fist jabs.

Eulogy For A Desktop....or, Dude, You're Getting (Rid Of) A Dell!

2009-04-22T11:54:00.002-04:00

My desktop is dying a most undignified death.

It takes twenty minutes, no exaggeration, to boot up and load one Firefox window. Opening iTunes takes another five minutes and if I open up more than three tabs? The entire system schitzes out and needs to be reset.

Ol' Desky is finally heading to the glue factory (or Staples for their computer recycling program).

I've had some great memories with the lumbering beast, though.

It was the first computer I owned. Not a family machine or something I had to share, but solely mine. That ownership meant I could download Paul Frank icons, emblazon the screen with wallpaper that showed off Ron Livingston's exposed rear (Body Shots -- awful movie, awesome scene) and set up my email so that every time I got a new message, a gruff voice would shout out, "Mail, Motherfucker!"

I remember meeting Dan for the first time and spending the night watching Before Sunrise and True Romance. Movies to fall in love to...and we did.

I also watched One Night In Paris on that computer -- approximately eight of us, smooshed together in my room critiquing Ms. Hilton's technique and deciding that she was a lousy lay.

I discovered and downloaded amazing music -- everything from Stevie Ray's ode to Oreo cookies to Rage Against The Machine's condemnation of corrupt political systems.

I uploaded over a thousand pictures -- artsy shots like the one of buddy Paul dressed in his martial arts gear slicing a blue sky with his sword and drunken snapshots of the night we decided to slide down the hallway on beanbags.

I played lots of free Tetris and spent even more time talking to tech support after Pepe's extensive porn viewing crashed my system (thanks, dude).

And I wrote. I wrote. I wrote.

Articles, emails, blog entries, Livejournal entries, papers about the Geto Boys contribution to hip-hop and about the philosophical definition of art, screenplays, unrequited love letters, requited love letters, rants and bits and pieces that have never seen the light of day since.

I brought the desktop with me when I moved to Pennsylvania and it helped serve as a lifeline to my former life. We've had some good times together but now, it's time to move on.

Vaya con Dios, Ol' Desky. Hopefully you'll be recycled into something that gives someone else as much happiness as you gave me.

On Writing

2009-04-15T10:18:00.004-04:00

Most writers can be distinguished by four inalienable traits:

1) Their egos. As massive and fragile as Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade balloons.

2) Their ability to be unashamedly self-congratulatory. In high school, I had this amazing English teacher named Terence Oliga who also happened to be a writer. After writing a particularly pleasing piece, he would lean back and pronounce, "Damn it, Oliga! You've done it again!" I blatantly stole this quirk from him and every time I write something that moves me, I lean back, smug and self-satisfied, and proclaim, "Damn it, Oliga! You've done it again!"

3) Their desperate insecurity. It's like erectile dysfunction. They glare at the blank page, seething with an increasingly visceral anger. They stalk the room, clutching fistfuls of hair, wild-eyed and wondering why the words won't come. They lament the death of their gift by drinking until they're either as jittery as hyperactive children on sugar benders or until they slur their words and collapse in a heap - cheap whiskey lingering in the air like rancid perfume.

4) The fact that when it comes down to it, writers are essentially assholes. The worst being the Public Writer. Real writers hate this guy. You know the type -- he sets himself up at Starbucks, laptop and iPod in tow, pretending to be an artsy type when in actuality, he's just a hapless prick who spends more time leering at the cute barista than he does actually writing.

These traits aside, I started thinking about what it means to be a writer. Anyone could be an insecure asshole. Anyone would be egomaniacal and self-serving. But, what defines a writer?Publication? The constant fluttering of fingers over keys? The ability to craft a thicker, juicier sentence than one's peer? The almost orgasmic glee that comes with the organic usage of polysyllabic words?

It's been two years since I had anything published and these days, my fluttering fingers craft more emails than anything else.

This drought lead to a bit of a personal crisis for me. Could I really even consider myself a writer anymore? Am I a neverwas hasbeen? Is this the bit where I start drinking?

I've never written for glory (because let's face it, it's not like I was writing for Rolling Stone, The Guardian or The Times) and neither did I write for money. I wrote for myself. Because I could. Because I was good at it. Because it was the one thing that made sense in a world filled with uncertainty.

For a while, everything I scribbled seemed like effete rubbish. It was soulless and devoid of intellect.....like a Fox News anchor minus that creepy plastic sheen they all seem to have. Lethargy and the daily grind won out over inspiration and I just stopped.

And I hated that. For me, not writing is arrhythmic -- not life-threatening, not devastating, but annoying. I feel uncomfortable in my own skin and impatiently huff until it passes and I can be me again.

My heartbeat regulated itself and I've started writing again. Nothing epic, but I have a good feeling about this. I hope it lasts.

And on that note -- what makes you feel like you? Your ability to talk politics/religion/money without inciting a riot? Your ability to make anyone laugh? Your athletic skills? Have you ever had this ability wane? What happened when it did?

Something to think about...

Cook Free or Die

2009-04-06T20:23:00.001-04:00

Anthony Bourdain, originally uploaded by blumpimag.

Reason #4784512310320365479411 I love Dan:

Dan (On the phone after a long day of work): So, we're having pizza and I'll start it if you want, but could you work the dough? You're better at it.
Jaime: Yeah, sure.
Dan: I'll be your sous chef.

He watches Top Chef, No Reservations, Man Vs. Food and Kitchen Nightmares with me and uses the term 'sous chef' in everyday vernacular.

My guy rules.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY D!!

2009-03-31T21:20:00.003-04:00

HAPPY BIRTHDAY DANA!

Meet Dana.
She's one of the best friends this girl could ever have.
She's hilarious ("It looks like the weight I lost in my ass went to her face!" Hands down, the best D-ism ever).
She's got great taste in pretty much everything.
She's sweet, creative, smart, thoughtful, gorgeous and about a thousand other complimentary adjectives.s
She understands the importance of good food, music, movies, books and friends.

For the most part, I find girls to be lousy friends. They're catty, dramatic and ridiculous. D completely changed that and I am so lucky to have her in my life.

Have a fabulous birthday, darling! Here's to hoping you get everything you could ever wish for and that this will be your best year yet.

Love you! xx

Tumbling and Tweeting

2009-03-28T13:42:00.002-04:00

Quick consensus question:

Who's Tweeting (Twittering? Twitting?)?

Who's Tumbling (Tumblring?)?

Have we established that I have entirely too much and not enough time on my hands? Right then. Good.

New Year's Resolutions: An Update

2009-03-28T13:05:00.005-04:00

It's been a few months since I made my New Year's Resolutions, so I figured an update was in order:

Write more -- Fail. I haven't really written anything of note since the new year started...but I did revise the opening of my novel. For the six billionth time. Since 2002. Yeah.

Be a better writer -- Fail Squared. Trust me. I re-read the opening.

Read more -- I've been pretty good about this one, actually. In the past two months, I have read the following:

Then We Came To The End by Joshua Ferris
Love All The People by Bill Hicks
The United States of Arugula by David Kamp
The Summer of Naked Swim Parties by Jessica Anya Blau
It's Not News, It's Fark: How Mass Media Tries To Pass Off Crap As News by Drew Curtis
Climbing The Mango Trees by Madhur Jaffrey

Next on the list, F. Scott Fitzgerald's The Beautiful and the Damned. I'm excited. Fitzgerald takes me a while to sink into, but once I do it's incredibly rewarding.

Send Thank You Cards -- They say the road to hell is paved with good intentions. Mine will be paved with unsent Thank You cards.

Take more pictures -- I've been taking more snapshots which satiates me for now, but I definitely want to start taking better pictures and fiddling around with the settings on my camera.

Add To My Flickr Favorites -- I've been pretty good about this and have discovered some pretty great pictures.

Photo by Slidercleo.

This is probably my new favorite because it makes me think of this:

Eat healthier -- Pshaw. Not as long as macaroni and cheese exists in this world.

Eat better -- I had the world's best veggie burger at National Mechanics' when my sister was in town and I'm seeing Dana in May, so I'm sure the prospect of Middle Eastern cuisine is in my very near future.

Spend regular quality time at the gym -- It hasn't really been regular but last time I was there, I lifted 40lbs. For a girl who teeters around the 100lbs mark, this isn't too bad.

See the family in Florida -- I'm working on it.

See the Smithsonian in D.C. -- I'm also working on this.

Purchase cute and sassy costume jewelry and band tees -- No on the band tees but yes on the cute and sassy jewelry. Dan got me the Octopus necklace for my birthday:

but insists that it looks like HP Lovecraft's Cthulu.

I disagree.

Pick up the guitar again -- Another fail. Maybe this summer. I've always preferred playing outside.

Floss regularly -- Bi-weekly (and by bi-weekly, I mean whenever I can be arsed to). Does that count?

Make more mix CDs -- This one is a technical fail solely because the CD-ROM drive in my computer gave me the finger and decided to stop working. However, I have been making more playlists for my iPod. I have a collection of pop-punk entitled, 'Young, Dumb and Full of....' because I am a classy, classy dame.

Remember to remember -- I'm working on it.

Quick Question

2009-03-15T09:46:00.001-04:00

day two seventy five. leaning tower of thought., originally uploaded by ::reflecting truth::.

If you had a $25 gift certificate to Barnes & Noble (Thanks, Karen and Marc!) -- what would you buy?

I need some good recommendations.

You're the birthday, boy or girl!

2009-03-10T16:08:00.002-04:00

Twenty-six

It's the atomic number of iron and John Terry's number for Chelsea. It's also the age I'll be turning tomorrow.

I'm a little freaked. Just a little. After all, 26 is officially closer to 30 than it is to 20. And the idea of 30 conjures up all sorts of terrifying notions of real adulthood as opposed to the faffing about you do in your 20s where you pretend to be an adult.

I'm not ready to be an adult. You know what I did last night? I ate two slices of leftover pizza for dinner (Amore's in West Chester -- so delicious!) and watched Batman: The Animated Series (Barring the Nolan films, it's my favorite adaptation of the character). I mean, I may as well be a seven-year-old.

I'm excited, though. Twenty-six is a brand new page to scribble all over. So, I'm blatantly ripping off one of my favorite bloggers (the fabulous Andrea of Caffeinate Me. If you're not already reading her blog, hop to it. Seriously. Go ahead. I'll wait right here).

Dear Soon-To-Be-Twenty-Six Jaime:

Happy Birthday!

Twenty Six is going to be great. How do I know this? I don't, but I said Twenty Five was going to be great and that worked out pretty well, didn't it?

This is the part where I'm supposed to give you some great piece of advice that will carry you through the year but the truth is -- I don't have any.

You're going to work a lot but you're also going to laugh a lot. You're going to eat great meals and some truly terrible ones. You're going to cry and do that thing where you clench your jaw and breathe very quickly through your nose. You're going to kiss Dan and that'll make everything all better. You're going to spend time with the people that you love and you're going to give dogs bellyrubs.

Basically, you're going to live. Some days will be fantastically amazing and others will suck beyond the telling of it. BUT, every day will be yours and will be an opportunity for you to do something. Learn a new word. Read a Wikipedia entry you wouldn't normally have clicked on. Order something new (all the while keeping in mind the wasabi-tangerine ice cream fiasco of 2004. What the eff, Coldstone?!).

Basically, do what you've been doing and you'll be just fine, kiddo. It's gotten you this far and let's face it, you are one lucky bastard.

Anyway, have a fabulous birthday. Don't forget -- print out directions to the airport (don't forget the exit), stock up on Thank You cards (Target has some super cute ones) and take pictures at dinner.

Have a great one!

Love:

Me xx

Funny Men in Flesh-Toned Pudge Suits

2009-03-02T16:02:00.005-05:00

These dames ain't got nothing on these guys:

And sidebar -- damn, Paul Rudd! Like a bag of hammers....

An Open Letter To SPF

2009-02-24T08:22:00.002-05:00

Dear SPF:

Listen, I think it's awesome how to help prevent cancer in people and all, but when you sneak into my moisturizer? Yeah, that shit ain't cute.

My face is now itchy, red and angry in that Old Testament/Wrath of God kinda way.

I'll be spending the day being cripplingly self-conscious and hiding behind my bangs.

Thanks, asshole.

Love:

Jaime xx

Oh stupid Oscar, when are you going to learn that there's no such thing as free shrimp?

2009-02-22T16:35:00.002-05:00

The 81st Academy Awards are in just a few short hours and unlike years past, I'm actually looking forward to them. I've heard that the telecast has been revamped and modernized and while I love the classic schtick of Billy Crystal, I'm excited to see what Hugh Jackman will bring to the table.

I'm also psyched for the pre-show this year. In my world, gossip and judgment are the bee's knees, so bring on the glittering, bulimia-inspiring starlets drenched in diamonds! In years past, the stars have always talked about the jewelry they're wearing and how much it costs. Seeing as the icy grip of recession as taken ahold of the country, doing so this year might be a little gauche to say the least. However, I'm sure one dumbass will roll up and blurt it out. Puffy, I'm looking at you.

Like pretty much everyone else in the country, I've made predictions as to who will be taking home the gold tonight. Check them out and let me know if you agree.

Best Picture

The Curious Case of Benjamin Button
Frost/Nixon
Milk
The Reader
Slumdog Millionaire - Lots of buzz, heartwrenching story, dazzling visuals and ethnicity abounds. It's a shoe-in.

Best Director

Danny Boyle – Slumdog Millionaire - He's up against some stiff competition, but I think Boyle will end up taking home a very pretty paperweight.
Stephen Daldry – The Reader
David Fincher – The Curious Case of Benjamin Button
Ron Howard – Frost/Nixon
Gus Van Sant – Milk

Best Actor

Richard Jenkins – The Visitor
Frank Langella – Frost/Nixon
Sean Penn – Milk
Brad Pitt – The Curious Case of Benjamin Button
Mickey Rourke – The Wrestler -- I loved Langella in Frost-Nixon. His portrayal of Richard Nixon is flawless, but as good as his performance was, it doesn't compare to Rourke's. Why? Because Langella merely played Nixon where as Rourke was Randy 'The Ram' Robinson. Both underdogs, both down on their luck and both desperately trying for one more shot at glory. Hollywood loves it when life imitates art and will reward Rourke for this portrayal handsomely.

Best Actress

Anne Hathaway – Rachel Getting Married
Angelina Jolie – Changeling
Melissa Leo – Frozen River
Meryl Streep – Doubt
Kate Winslet – The Reader -- I know there's been a bit of controversy about this picture lately, but that doesn't discount the fact that Winslet is both a phenomenal actress and really damn likable. Couple that with the fact that she's a five-time nominee and hasn't taken home a statuette yet and the odds look good, but she's up against some serious competition, so I'm not entirely certain about the outcome of this one.

Best Supporting Actor

Josh Brolin – Milk
Robert Downey, Jr. – Tropic Thunder
Philip Seymour Hoffman – Doubt
Heath Ledger – The Dark Knight -- Come on. There's no way Ledger's not going to win this award. Barring the obvious reason, Ledger really was phenomenal as The Joker. He reinfused the character with a sociopathic glee that has only been seen in the graphic novels up until this point. Jack was good, but Heath was great.
Michael Shannon – Revolutionary Road

Best Supporting Actress

Amy Adams – Doubt
Penélope Cruz – Vicky Cristina Barcelona
Viola Davis – Doubt
Taraji P. Henson – The Curious Case of Benjamin Button -- Tough competition again, but I predict Henson FTW.
Marisa Tomei – The Wrestler

Best Original Screenplay

WALL-E - Andrew Stanton, Jim Reardon and Pete Docter
Happy-Go-Lucky - Mike Leigh
Frozen River - Courtney Hunt
In Bruges - Martin McDonagh
Milk - Dustin Lance Black -- As much as I liked Wall-E and as funny as In Bruges is, Milk is where it's at.

Best Adapted Screenplay

The Curious Case of Benjamin Button - Eric Roth and Robin Swicord
Frost/Nixon - Peter Morgan
The Reader - David Hare
Slumdog Millionaire - Simon Beaufoy
Doubt - John Patrick Shanley-- What's hotter than Catholic guilt? Movies about books about Catholic guilt!

Best Animated Feature

Bolt – Chris Williams and Byron Howard
Kung Fu Panda – Mark Osborne and John Stevenson
WALL-E – Andrew Stanton -- Bolt features Miley Cyrus. Anything featuring that banal succubus is immediately disqualified. My loathing of Miss Cyrus aside, Wall-E was incredible. Gorgeous animation and a great message. Loved it and so will Oscar.

Now just to clarify, when you say sister, you mean...

2009-02-22T13:12:00.003-05:00

My sister might be coming to Philly for my birthday!

Best. Gift. Ever!

I hired a hot girl who can't lift an iPod to bring you out of your funk.

2009-02-21T09:27:00.005-05:00

Dear Jaime:

Welcome to the 21st century!

Your purchase of an iPod (eye-pod) will hopefully encourage you to go to the gym more often, provide you with countless hours of entertainment while you spend your life waiting (in lines, for transportation...) and hopefully, help you lower your blood pressure as it will provide an alternative to listening to Sean Hannity during your afternoon commute.

Enjoy your birthday present to yourself and have fun making those playlists (you might want to reconsider the one entitled, 'Watch For Flying Panties.' Invariably, someone's going to see that and then, you're going to have explain things like how Howlin' Wolf is a big ol' bastard who could take your woman and people will think you're on the drugs and you're not....unless caffeine is considered a drug, which I guess it technically is and...look, whatever. Just think about it, ok? Right).

Lots of Love:

Me xx

P.S. -- Way to defy convention by picking yellow over pink. Bet they didn't see that coming!

All the beautiful little tattooed, gum-chewing freaks are out

2009-02-14T14:52:00.006-05:00

What better time than Valentine's Day for another edition of 'Holy Shit! I Love You!'

Here are some things I love-love-love (holy shit!)

Last Night -- We hit Xochitl, home of $5 Happy Hour Margaritas. They are very strong, absolutely delicious and served by a wonderful Australian bartender who not only knows his shit but also calls you 'madam'....and the only person who has ever called me that is my mom when she says I'm being a 'bossy little madam.'

After that, we headed to National Mechanics in Old City. This place might just be my favorite new bar. Not only does it have a killer location (built in 1837) but the bar also serves pineapple-jalapeno margaritas. They're yummy....but word of warning? Jalapeno tequila is not for the faint of heart or anyone whose stomach lining is made of anything other than cast iron.

While at National Mechanics, we stumbled upon The Olde City Sideshow -- A burlesque troupe of entertainers who swallowed swords, ate fire, walked on broken glass and knives, hammered nails into their nasal cavities and featured one incredibly bad-ass contortionist in a fabulous pink tutu.

She's standing barefoot on a stairway of knives while . I think this woman just became my hero.

Holy shit, it was a great night and if you're ever in the Philly area, be sure to check it all out.

McDonalds Iced Coffee -- It's no secret that I hate McDonalds. However, they've redeemed themselves somewhat with the introduction of their coffee beverages. Their french fries may barely be considered food and their salads may be pathetic, but damn it, their coffee is delicious. Don't get me wrong -- I still believe that McDonalds is an evil conglomerate (its mascot is a clown, for crying out loud! If that doesn't scream unholy and godless, I don't know what does), but thanks to their incredibly tasty (and affordable) iced coffee, I hate this corporation just a wee bit less.

Michael Jackson -- Say what you will about the guy, but the man's genius cannot be denied. I challenge anyone to listen to Billie Jean and not involuntarily shimmy their shoulders. One of his more underrated gems has to be In The Closet. Granted, the first 35 seconds are annoyingly over-dramatic in the vein of R. Kelly, but when the song picks up -- it kicks ass.

Persepolis

I've been wanting to read the graphic novel for a while but when I saw the film was on Starz this morning, I jumped at the opportunity to watch it. The animation is beautiful yet spare and the story is incredibly poignant. Much like anyone else who attended public school, I am woefully ignorant of the history of the Middle East and I've only ever thought of Iran's Islamic Revolution in incredibly simplistic terms -- a relatively modern nation one day and a theocracy the next. Idiotic, I know. Anyway, the film broke me of that wildly false notion, broke my heart, healed it again and basically wowed me. It's a brilliant little film and I highly recommend adding it to your NetFlix queue.

Happy Valentine's Day, guys! Hope you spend it with something/someone you love!

"Rock 'n' roll can save the world"? "The chicks are great"? I sound like a dick!

2009-01-14T13:13:00.011-05:00

Hey, I'm not the smartest guy in the world, but I'm certainly not the dumbest. I mean, I've read books like "The Unbearable Lightness of Being" and "Love in the Time of Cholera", and I think I've understood them. They're about girls, right? Just kidding. But I have to say my all-time favorite book is Johnny Cash's autobiography "Cash" by Johnny Cash -- Rob Gordon. High Fidelity.

I can relate. I've got a stack of rock (auto) biographies on my bookshelf -- Caught In The Crossfire (Stevie Ray Vaughan), Hammer of the Gods (Led Zeppelin), Ain't No Sin To Be Glad You're Alive and Glory Days (Bruce Springsteen), Aerosmith's autobiography and my most recent addition, Slash's autobiography.

I'm a bigger Slash fan than I am a GnR fan so I was looking forward to reading this book.

The book was pretty much par for the course -- Slash does drugs! Slash drinks Jack! Slash shreds the merciless fuck out of his Gibsons! Slash finds creating the world's most memorable guitar riffs preposterously easy! Slash thinks Axl is a control-obsessed douche!

Typical rock star bullshit. You hear about it with pretty much every band (except for the memorable guitar riffs being preposterously easy thing. Only Slash could have given the world the opening to Sweet Child O' Mine).

It got me thinking, though.

I used to have a thing for musicians. I'm not some obsessive who collects every single last piece of merchandise and my adoration was nothing close to the extent of Pamela Des Barres, Cynthia Plaster Caster or hell, even Penny Lane, Sapphire and Polexia (I realize they're fictional but just go with me here) but I totally bought into the Golden God myth.

I could justify it all -- the self-involvement, self-indulgence and self-importance.

Of course they had huge egos! Wouldn't you if you could make a guitar sob, moan and scream like that? Of course they trashed hotel rooms! They're trapped there for endless hours -- I mean, who wouldn't go insane? Of course they slept with groupies....and you know, not all groupies are like, whores. Some are muses who inspire the music that could save the world.

Yeah. I sounded like a dick.

So, I got a little older and a little smarter and you know what I realized?

If you take a second and step back and you strip away this glitter-dusted, whiskey-hazed view of them well....these Gods of Rock, these mystic shamen whose fingers of fury burned up fretboards, whose voices screamed and howled with thunderous sound and fury, whose bombastic drumming echoed like the hyperkinetic heartbeat of the universe?

They're men.

Flesh, blood and bone.

And like all men, they're fallible.

And like some men, they're actually pretty big assholes.

At the height of his fame, Jimmy Page slept with 14-year-old Lori Maddox. Steven Tyler became so completely besotted with a 14-year-old groupie that he convinced the girl's parents to sign a form making him her legal guardian. Ted Nugent did the same thing with a 17-year-old Hawaiian girl when he was 30 (note to Sean Hannity -- You might want to remember that when you take a break from fellating the guy for his right-wing viewpoints and sidebar? If The Nuge is all about the troops and pro-military, why didn't he enlist and serve his country during the Vietnam war? Something to think about).

The night before his wedding, Slash cheated on his fiance. Eric Clapton not only stole his best friend's wife but shagged her sister as well. Vince Neil drove drunk and killed one of his friends (and in a total fuckhole move, allowed the release of Music To Crash Your Car To -- a compilation of Crue songs. Seriously, Vince? Seriously?).

These are the guys I defended to the ends of the earth? Child molesters (a while back, Gary Glitter got in trouble for sleeping with underage girls. Instead of having the incident overlooked as part of the rock 'n roll lifestyle, he was classified formally - and rightfully so - as a sex offender. I'm not defending Glitter or his abominable actions. I'm just asking for accountability across the board. If Glitter's a sex offender, so are Ol' Pagey and the Demon of Screamin'), drunk drivers, adultering assholes who can't keep their pecker in their pants.

Your average, run-of-the-mill douchebags who you wouldn't want to be around if they weren't so musically gifted.

I'm not asking for perfection nor am I asking sinners to be saints. I guess what I'm saying is that I'm older, a little smarter and a little more experienced and while I'm still in love with the music, I've fallen out of love with the men who make it.

I'll save my hero worship for those who really deserve it.

It's hard to rely on my good intentions when my head's full of things that I can't mention

2009-01-01T18:39:00.006-05:00

In 2009, I want to:

Write more.
Be a better writer.
Read more -- become BFF with used bookstores and the public library.
Send Thank You cards.
Take more pictures.
Add to my Flickr Favorites.
Eat healthier -- Adios crap. Hello fruit!
Eat better -- Hello cheese! Marhaba, Lebanese food!
Spend regular quality time at the gym.
See the family in Florida.
See the Smithsonian in D.C.
Purchase cute and sassy costume jewelry and band tees.
Pick up the guitar again.

Especially if it's this one.
Floss regularly.
Make more mix CDs filled with amazing new tracks and classics I can't ever forget.
Remember to remember.

Here's to hoping you have a fabulous 2009 and have as much fun as I appear to be having on New Year's Eve:

AFC East Champs!!!

2008-12-28T19:35:00.005-05:00

AFC EAST CHAMPS, BABY!

Festivus Yes! Bagels No!

2008-12-24T09:15:00.002-05:00

Happy Festivus!

I may not have an aluminum pole or evidence of a miracle but I do have a list of grievances just itching to be aired.

So, without further ado -- the Airing of Grievances:

- The Duggar Family and the media for fawning all over these people. Mr. and Mrs. Duggar: Stop having children! My God, the uterus is not a clown car! You can't possibly give each child the individual attention he or she deserves. To the media: Instead of mollycoddling a couple with an overactive reproductive system, how about lauding intellect? Scientists, mathematicians, artists, writers, philosophers! You know what happens when you praise stupidity? George W. Bush.

- Teenage girls going to the mall in their pajamas complete with bunny slippers. Really, girls? Come on! You drop the equivalent of my paycheck in one spree at Hollister. The least you can do is actually wear the clothing you purchase there.

- Dick Cheney (I thought evil like this only existed in comic books. He's like an unholy hybrid between Darth Vader and Lex Luthor) Rick Warren (handing out donuts does not make you any less of a bigot. It just makes you a homophobic publicity whore), Sarah Palin, Sean Hannity, Rush Limbaugh, Michelle Malkin, Steve Doocy, Karl Rove, Elisabeth Hasselbeck, Nancy Pelosi, Harry Reid (for not being nearly as combative as they should have been), George W. Bush, Rod Blagojevich, Bill O'Reilly, the Mormon Church members who voted 'yes; on Prop 8 (In what universe is having multiple underage brides a sacrosanct definition of marriage?) and about twenty other people whose names alone cause a serious spike in my blood pressure.

- The sandwich I ate last night. When I order a grilled veggie grinder, I expect a grilled sandwich, stuffed with tomatoes, mushrooms, onions and broccoli with melted mozzarella cheese on top. A grilled lettuce, cucumber, carrot and tomato sandwich with melted mozzarella on top is not the same thing. Grilled cucumbers taste awful!

- Icy steps. I wiped out this morning and as a result, have a very festive fruitcake-colored bruise on my leg.

Now, as tradition dictates -- I challenge any blogger out there to a feat of strength. Jaime 3:16 is ready to whup some ass.

On a more serious note -- merry Christmas! Have a wonderful holiday!

No jobs! Freelance! Best thing in the world for a kid your age.

2008-12-20T13:56:00.003-05:00

Slingin' Ink.
Slingin' Ink.
Slingin' Ink.
Slingin' Ink.
Slingin' Ink.
Slingin' Ink.
Slingin' Ink.
Slingin' Ink.
Slingin' Ink.
Slingin' Ink.
Slingin' Ink.
Slingin' Ink.
Slingin' Ink.
Slingin' Ink.
Slingin' Ink.
Slingin' Ink.
Slingin' Ink.

Yes, it's obnoxious, but what do you want? I majored in journalism, not advertising.

Suck it, Jesus. This award is my God now.

2008-12-11T17:41:00.001-05:00

The Golden Globe nominations came out this morning and the Hollywood Foreign Press Association continues its age-long tradition of honoring mediocrity and crap. Hey, it works for government, why not the film and television industry?

My biggest grievance is the fact that Lost has been overlooked. Again.

Hollywood Foreign Press, I demand that you explain this fuckery at once. Season four of Lost was the best season to date. Writing as sharp as an Olsen's clavicle, a plot that continues to perplex, heart-wrenching emotion (The Constant is my favorite episode of the show because of how emotionally fulfilling it is. I've waited for the last five minutes of that show ever since I learned about Desmond and Penny. Hands-down, one of the best hours of television ever filmed. Vying for second best? Angel. Season five - A Hole In The World. Tragic, bittersweet and beautiful. Check it out:

In addition to this, a flawless performance by Michael Emerson. His portrayal of Ben Linus was alternately funny and terrifying...unlike nominee Jeremy Piven's portrayal of agent Ari Gold, a one-trick pony who needs to be put out to pasture.

My other major gripe -- Weeds' nomination for Best Series - Comedy or Musical. The season was awful. The show no longer retains any of its initial charm -- my two favorite characters have disappeared (Heylia and Conrad) as has the great title music and Nancy's gone from cool suburban mom to Whoretense the Hobag. Crap like this gets award nominations while great shows like Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip are axed. There's no justice in the world.

As for the rest of the nominations, here's a brief rundown of my thoughts:

- Heath Ledger's nomination for The Joker was no surprise, but I'm annoyed that neither The Dark Knight nor Christopher Nolan received any nods. Hopefully this will be rectified come Oscar season.

- Being an old-school pro-wrestling fan (don't hate. I grew up in the 80s. Besides, the insanity of the modern day Ultimate Warrior and Iron Sheik is hilarious. See what happens when you take one too many superkicks to the head?), I'm really excited to see The Wrestler. In addition to Darren Aronofsky's direction, the film is being touted as Mickey Rourke's comeback and the title track is performed by Bruce Springsteen. Sounds pretty great, but don't listen to me. Check out the trailer for yourself:

- Miley Cyrus should never be nominated for anything ever. Unless it's a rocketship headed straight for the sun or perhaps mandatory sterilization for the good of mankind.

- It took this long for Spielberg to get a lifetime achievement award? I wonder who'll be the one presenting it -- Tom Hanks? Harrison Ford? George Lucas? Martin Scorcese? Or maybe this guy:

As if Dawson Leery's life wasn't bad enough, the poor bastard will forever be immortalized looking like this. Man, that's rough.

A complete list of all nominations can be found here. What did you think of the nominations? Who do you think will win? Let's discuss!

Why does it say paper jam when there is no paper jam?!

2008-12-10T16:07:00.002-05:00

390 copies.
65 emails.
250 envelopes.
Zero toner.
Zero paper.
Half a bottle of warm caffeine-free Diet Coke.
Half a serving of throughly mediocre cheese fries.
Two meetings.
Two meeting reschedules.
45 minutes to get home...in the rain.

If we're going by the numbers, today sucked.

This girl needs a silo-sized fruity margarita, a little G. Love and some Top Chef.

Hope you guys had a better day than I did!

Who says romance is dead?

2008-12-09T13:50:00.002-05:00

I just got the following email from Dan:

"....Don’t worry about me on Christmas morning. As long as I wake up next to my most favorite present.

Love you!

P.S. I’ll be sleeping with my PS3 on Christmas Eve."

Who needs the love of a good woman when you've got a gaming console?

A Conversation Between Best Friends

2008-12-09T12:21:00.002-05:00

The Best Friend: I was tricked into seeing that Twilight movie.

Jaime: What?! You saw Twilight?

The Best Friend: I was tricked! They said it was a vampire movie!

(Jaime dissolves into a fit of giggles)

The Best Friend: Vampires don't sparkle in sunlight!

Jaime: You saw Twilight, dude. Even I didn't see that movie!

The Best Friend: I was tricked!

Jaime: Awww, honey. It's OK. You might notice that your body is going through a lot of changes right now and it's all perfectly natural. When you're ready, we'll go out and get you some tampons. Would you like that?

The Best Friend: Fuck you.

Is it any wonder The Best Friend calls me, "such an asshole"?

Santa Baby....

2008-11-30T21:56:00.007-05:00

Dear Santa (is Santa OK? Do you want to be called Mr. Claus or perhaps Nick? Kris?)

Hi. This is Jaime. Remember me? I'm usually on the good list until my big mouth gets me in trouble? Yeah. That's the one.

I know it's been a while since I wrote and for that, I apologize. Are you on Facebook? 'Cause that would make communication so much easier. Just watch out for all those stupid third party add-ons. They can get annoying after a while.

Oh and as for the whole not leaving cookies out on Christmas Eve thing? I know it seems like a dick move, but I was actually looking out for you. I figure you probably eat somewhere in the neighborhood of 300,000 cookies on Christmas Eve. This can only lead to one thing:

Yeah. No bueno. Just ask Wilford Brimley.

See, I've got your back, Big Guy.

Anyway, this year -- I decided to put my wish list online to make life easier for you. Also, I've divided the list into two different categories:

- Boy, This Girl Asks For Some Ridiculous Shit
- Alright, That I Can Handle That...

You ready? Let's hit it.

Boy, This Girl Asks For Some Ridiculous Shit

- Front row tickets to Led Zeppelin at Madison Square Garden back in 1973 and a Delorean that enables me to time-travel there and back. Dude, come on. It's the concert from The Song Remains The Same.

- Front row tickets to see Stevie Ray Vaughan in concern and a Delorean that enables me to time-travel there and back. Word of warning, though? I'd probably tell him not to get on that helicopter which might cause a chain reaction that would unravel the very fabric of the space time continuum, and destroy the entire universe! Granted, that's a worse case scenario. The destruction might in fact be very localized, limited to merely our own galaxy.

- A sit down with Bob and Harvey Weinstein. What? I've got some ideas....

- Hair like Alessandria Ambrosio's. No roots, no touch-ups. Just killer hair like this. Every day. No flat iron, product or curling iron required.

Look, while we're giving out fantasy presents, can I just ask for a body like hers too? One that I don't have to work to maintain at all? 'Cause that would be sweet. If I could eat cheese fries and look like this, that would rock.

Don't tell Mrs. Claus...and you're welcome.

- I was going to ask for world peace but given the fact that the current president is an idiot of monumental proportions, I'm sure he'd screw it up in a second and therefore, squander your gift. I also thought about asking you to fix the economic crisis but again, I'm sure they'd find a way to bollocks it all up before December 26th, so never mind.

Anyway, let's get to small stuff, shall we?

Alright, I Can Handle That...

This necklace. It's cute, quirky, super-affordable and available here.

That's it. See, I'm relatively easy to please!

Anyway -- fly safe and watch out for low-flying aircraft! Merry Christmas!

Lots of love:

Jaime xx

Happy Thanksgiving!

2008-11-26T15:40:00.001-05:00

Miss Jaime's Annual List of Ridiculous Stuff She's Ridiculously Thankful For:

- My flat-iron. It keeps my hair shiny and straight and thus helps me maintain some semblance of sanity.

- Google. Oh my God, I love Google! Reader, Docs, Search, Chat, iGoogle. I have never more wanted to full-on make out with an inanimate entity. Love it, love it, love it.

- Almost Famous. The name of my blog is ripped off from the movie, it features breakthrough performances from pretty much every cast member, I find Jason Lee inexplicably hot as Jeff Bebe (sidebar: Do musicians have a tendency to aesthetically emulate Jesus because they have messiah complexes? Discuss), it's heart-wrenching and funny and sad and well-written and beautiful and the music. The music. What do I love about the music? In a word, everything. It's perfect.

- Wawa. The glory of the mid-Atlantic states. Saturday mornings were made for Wawa coffee.

- Illy coffee. One sip and you'll feel like you're being kissed by God. Man, I am all about the smooching and blasphemy today.

- New York City. I fell in love after my first visit. It's an incredible place and I can't wait to go back! I've already decided what I must do on my next visit -- Breakfast at Les Halles and lots of quality time in the Village.

- Lost, Doc Johnson's weekly recaps at ew.com and the fact that it's coming back in January!!

- C.O. Bigelow Rose Salve. It makes me feel pretty...and well moisturized.

- Ron Livingston. What? I saw Relative Strangers last night and he was really cute and funny. Let's also be thankful that I'll never meet Mr. Livingston because this will spare me the humiliation of morphing into a complete blushing, babbling idiot.

- The way my nieces run. Avery's run is a full-throttle burst of speed while Livi's is more of a prancing princess movement. Both of them are ridiculously cute and I couldn't love them more.

- My favorite blogs -- Caffeinate Me, Pajiba, Heartless Doll, Mixtape Therapy, Starting Over At 24, Made By Girl and NPR's Monkey See to name a few.

- Good pizza, homemade chips and salsa, big-ass fruity margaritas, avocados, cheese, mangoes, Greek salad, Dr. Prager's veggie burgers, patatas bravas, garlic bread, bread in general, actually, really good extra virgin olive oil, Mom's Indian food, dark chocolate, Diet Coke and vanilla lattes. What? I like food.

- The last season of Angel. Actually, every season of Angel 'cause that show was amazing and the fact that it was cancelled only proves that network execs are even more soulless than Angelus. On that note, I am thankful for the After The Fall graphic novel series.

- Tetris. It's a classic and has been proved to lead to more efficient brain activity while playing. I am also (grudgingly) thankful for the fact that the game is firewalled at work because it would lead to a serious nosedive in productivity on my part. Good looking out, Corporate America!

- The Great Gatsby. I've been carrying around a copy in my purse and it's a pearldiver. You dive into it at any given point and surface with something truly beautiful.

- You. Whether you read my blog regularly or just popped in because you did a Google Search on 'Ellen Pompeo Naked' (FYI: Sorry guy, but if it's nudes you're looking for, you're looking in the wrong spot), I appreciate you taking the time out. Thanks!

What are you thankful for? I'd love to know.

Have a wonderful Thanksgiving!

Pretty as a picture, stubborn as a mule

2008-11-21T10:39:00.002-05:00

Dan loves movies.

We met via his website dedicated to screenwriter Kevin Williamson, in college, he majored in film, worked for Williamson one summer and first three sites he checks online are Gmail, Aintitcoolnews.com and Boxofficereport.com.

I'm a bit of a movie fan too. I minored in cinema studies, can rattle off arcane trivia about assorted films and if prompted, can probably quote 85% of the dialogue from the Back To The Future trilogy (Dan can quote 100% which is why he is my hero).

We are movie geeks and that being the case, Dan and I have established a pick system in our house when it comes to watching movies. The rules are simple:

+ Alternating picks for each respective party.
+ If the movie in question is something both parties wish to view, it is a joint pick and therefore, is not subject to the rules of the pick system.
+ If either party wishes to concede their pick, they do so at their own risk.

+ Each party is allowed one permanent veto. Mine is Gremlins; Dan's is Dirty Dancing.

Despite the obvious simplicity of the pick system, movie night at our house is never easy. Case in point, last night:

Dan: It's my pick.
Jaime: I know, I know.

Dan: I'm thinking Rudy. It's a good fall football mo...Why are you making that face?

Jaime: What face?
Dan: That face. You'll like Rudy. It's a good movie.
Jaime: Yeah but I saw a bit on TV and his buddy dies and I don't want to spend the whole night bummed 'cause some fictional steel mill worker ate it.
Dan: Firstly, he's not fictional and secondly, it's not sad! It's uplifting!
Jaime: Yeah, but....
Dan: You like Sean Astin, you like football, you like Jon Favreau. Trust me, you'll like this movie.
Jaime: Yeah....
Dan: Fine! Fine! Pick a hand - left or right.
Jaime: Left
[Dan fidgets with his hands behind his back in a blatantly obvious move to switch DVDs around]
Dan: Rudy! Ha!
Jaime: You switched them! You're cheating!
Dan: Even if I did, it doesn't matter because it's my pick!

Damn him and his use of logic.

Now, imagine going through this every fifth time you wanted to watch a movie. I don't know how he puts up with it. Oh wait. Yes I do. It's because I never make him watch pablum like 27 Dresses or Made of Honor.

Anyway, last night we ended up watching Rudy. And just like with Jaws and The Prestige and about twenty other movies Dan has recommended and I've fought him on, he was right -- Rudy is a pretty good movie. Actually, it's a classic feel-good movie and what feels even better is that it's based on a true story and that men like Daniel 'Rudy' Ruettiger really do exist.

Not to get all Sean Hannity here (sidebar: I am officially old. I know this because I listen to Hannity on my drive home and spend a good half-hour yelling at the radio. I'm at a loss when it comes to guys like Hannity and Limbaugh, but the words, 'steaming sacks of shit' do come to mind), but I was struck at just how American Rudy is.

On the surface, Rudy is a movie about football -- a sport that very few besides Americans actually care about. The rest of the world may kick around a soccer ball, but that means nothing to the millions of Americans who spend their Sunday screaming at the running back to make it into the end zone. On a much deeper level though, Rudy is about the promise of America. the fulfillment of the American Dream and that inexorable Algerian ideal that if you work hard, if you sweat and bleed and really want something, it'll be yours.

Where else in the world would a story like Rudy's even be possible? Ever since he was a kid, Rudy was told he couldn't -- couldn't play football, couldn't go to Notre Dame. He believed these people. Listened to them and then, one day -- he decided he didn't want to do that anymore. Where else in the world could a man like Rudy live his dream? Only in America.

I straddle the line between naif and cynic and much like Fox Mulder, I want to believe.

I want to believe in the promise of America and a part of me does but I'm smart enough to know that for every Rudy, there's an executive with a golden parachute who made out like a bandit while his company (and lower-level employees) withered and died.

I want to believe that dogged determination and hard work lead to success, but I think I've seen one too many fourteen-year-old girls prancing around with designer handbags that cost more than my rent.

You get older and the world tries to beat you down and cynicism pervades all too easily. I guess that's one of the reasons I'm so thoroughly enamored with movies. They serve as reminders that hope is never lost. Rudy always runs out of the tunnel clad in gold and blue, George McFly always punches Biff and kisses Lorraine at the Enchantment Under The Sea dance, Andy Dufresne always ends up a free man in Mexico and if they can, you can too. When you've got nothing else, you've always got hope.

I am not responsible for Dream Feeny!

2008-11-13T19:05:00.003-05:00

I once had a dream in which The Best Friend was a complete jerk to me. I woke up angry at him and treated him thusly by shooting him dirty looks and making him suffer through the silent treatment. Bewildered by my simmering rage, he asked what was wrong and I told him.

"You've been mad at me all day about that?! That's insane! I have no control over your dreams!"

"Whatever, dude," I said countering with an obviously brilliant argument. "You were an asshole."

"You're being an asshole now! And we're both awake!"

Damn him and his use of logic.

Anyway, the situation resolved itself relatively quickly and everything went back to normal.

Two nights ago, I had a dream about Ron Livingston.

I'll take things I'd hit like a bag of hammers for $800, Alex....

Usually, I'm a big fan of these dreams for obvious reasons but this last one? Yeah, not so much. Dream Livingston was such a jerk! He spilled hot coffee on me and basically acted like a frat boy, the morning after.

I woke up and told Dan about this. Usually when I tell Dan about these dreams, his eyes narrow, his hand balls up into a fist and he shakes it at the sky while yelling, "Damn you, Livingston!" but this time, he burst out in raucous, gleeful laughter.

Yet another reason I'm glad I'll never meet the guy. 'Cause if I do, I'll be the asshole who blurts out, "Man, you were such a dick in my dream!"

In news that detracts from the fact that I am utterly unhinged:

Top Chef's fifth season premiered last night. As par for the course, it's still a little too early to tell who the fan favorites will be but I'm guessing Richard's a pretty strong contender. I can respect anyone who discloses a crush on Tom Colicchio.

As for the other cheftestants, they seem fairly interesting but I can't see anyone bringing the drama like Marcel and Ilan did in season two.

Ilan: You know what's really funny, Marcel? The first day I got here, I've been wanting to smack you across the face. Why don't you fucking go to a new school, learn some shit, go to France, go to Spain, go travel, go relax, go learn how to use some fucking salt, paprika, come back to me, you know, come to New York, maybe I'll show you how to cook a little bit? I'll show you how to grill something. But until then, shut the fuck up, keep making your foams and go cry in a corner!

Cooking is serious business, y'all.

Yes We Can

2008-11-08T14:37:00.002-05:00

One day, Dan and I will have children (Calm down, Mom. It's not happening for another five years). Cute little Indian-Irish babies with blue eyes and skin the color of caramel.

Because I am thoroughly neurotic, I worried about that.

Silly really, considering that there are more biracial people around today than there were when I was born and that in a good majority of the country, the color of a person's skin isn't even an afterthought.

I'm lucky enough to have never been a victim of overt racism. A couple of dirty looks shot in my direction and one encounter a few years ago when a 13-year-old referred to me as a 'cockroach', but apart from that, nothing too vicious.

As minor as these incidents may have been, I didn't want my children growing up in a world where this stuff still happens. Being loathed for something you have no control over, be it sexual orientation, race or gender, is a really unsettling experience and something I wouldn't wish on anyone.

I didn't want my children to grow up in a world where the American Dream and the Algerian ideal of, "You can be anyone your heart desires, as long as you're willing to work hard for it" come with fine print:

"Offer may not apply everywhere or to everyone. You've got a good shot if you're a white Anglo-Saxon male but if not, don't even think about it. Seriously, you'll just end up disappointed."

Where the gallows humor of, "The only way a black man can become president is if he's running against a Mexican" is a true statement. Where what you look like or who you love takes precedence over intellect, determination, skill and hard work.

The American Dream became The American Reality with the election of Barack Obama as 44th president.

It's a good feeling to know that one day, I'll be able to tell my kids that they really can be anything they want to be and have it be the truth as opposed to a fevered, naively optimistic wish.

Congratulations to Barack Obama and Joe Biden -- the president and vice-president elect of the United States of America.

Sidebar: Personally, I believe Sarah Palin isn't qualified to be a QVC Spokesperson much less vice-president of the country but the villification of Sarah Palin by angry McCain/Palin staffers is uncalled for and only proves that they were lying to the American people all along. John McCain's concession speech on Tuesday night exemplified class and grace. It's a shame the staffers can't follow his lead. And on a related note, are you kidding me about Africa ? I mean, really? My niece knows that Africa is a continent....and she's not even four! Jesus, lady! You've got kids -- watch The Lion King or Madagascar or something...

Vote For Change with Ron Livingston

2008-10-25T12:15:00.003-04:00

Stuff like this makes me adore Ron Livingston that much more.

Thanks for the heads-up, Jamie Leigh!

A through Zed

2008-10-15T10:59:00.002-04:00

Since I managed to get the meeting from hell scheduled (sidebar: You know you're spending entirely too much time at the office when you know your boss' cell phone number better than your fiance's), I'm taking a time-out to read about tonight's debate, talk to McGillis about politics, the polarization of the country, religion and Lexington Steele and waste my time with stuff like this:

A. Attached or single?
Attached. We drive to work together and spend pretty much all of our time with one another. You'd think this would be boring, but after spending a year living 1000 miles apart -- it's actually pretty fabulous.

B. Best friend?
I have many -- Dan (obviously), The Best Friend (he didn't just get the name out of nowhere), Sobia (The Transatlantic Best Friend), Dana and my sister.

C. Cake or pie?
Pie -- Cherry with a marzipan-and-almond crumb topping served warm with vanilla bean ice cream and a cup of good, strong coffee. Oh sweet Lord, I am so hungry....

D. Day of choice?
Saturday -- I hit the library (confessions of a nerd: I actually made a librarian chortle at my nerdiness when I was last at the library. I found a Toure's Never Drank The Kool-Aid, gasped loudly and leapt upon it with entirely too much eagerness. A librarian caught this display of dorkery and cracked up), I wear comfy clothes and I catch up on DVR'd TV. I get to do things I want to do as opposed to things I have to do.

E. Essential item?
At work -- it's Google. Reader + my personalized homepage makes my life so much happier and easier. At home -- my flat-iron. Having straight hair makes me more psychologically stable. Yes, I am aware of the fact that I'm both superficial and insane.

F. Favourite colour?
Pink

G. Gummy bears or worms?
Both but neither compare to the black Jelly Babies. Unlike the black jelly beans you find here in the States, black Jelly Babies are not an unholy vortex of fail.

H. Hometown?
Southall, England - famed for Bend It Like Beckham, a vast and cacaphonous population of South Asian immigrants and essentially, being a complete and utter shithole. Also, West Palm Beach, Florida. Also known as the Five-Six-Ace in the Gunshine State.

I. Indulgence?
Terrible food -- frozen pizza, jalapeno-flavored Kettle chips (I had both last night! I don't know who Tony is, but he makes a terrible pizza), peanut-butter filled pretzels, gummi cola bottles. I'm a fat girl in a small girl's body.

J. January or July?
July -- the 4th, the Best Friend's birthday, my anniversary. Good times all around.

K. Kids?
Let's wait five years before we start on that, shall we? Although, Dan and I have started talking about potential names. We don't agree on a single one.

L. Life isn’t complete without?
Great people, even better music, fruity margaritas, cute shoes, Lost, Ron Livingston, used bookstores and good food.

M. Marriage date?
July 2010...I hope. I'm having that "Down Payment for a house vs. wedding" debate right now and the house seems to be winning.

N. Number of brothers & sisters?
Just the one. She's awesome, passionate, funny, smart and hopefully, will be visiting me this winter!

O. Oranges or apples?
Apples -- really tart Granny Smith ones that make your mouth pucker.

P. Phobias?
I hate clowns. Even more creepy are the guys who wear clown make-up underneath their masks. Who does that?! I mean, seriously?!

Q. Quotes?
One of my favorites from NewsRadio -- a thoroughly underrated show:

[Reading cards from the complaint box]
Dave: "You suck." "You suck." "Howard Stern rules." "If you can read this you are a dork." "Coupon for one free kiss from Joe if you are a girl." "We need more complaint cards." "Coupon for one free kiss from Joe if you are a guy."
Joe: Hey.
Dave: [pulling out a fortune cookie slip] "You will go on a journey, happy long time." "Matthew is a moron." "No I'm not." "Yes you are." "No I'm not infinity." "Yes you are infinity plus one." And this one, "I have doobie in my funk," which I assume is some sort of reference to the Parliament Funkadelic song, "Chocolate City." Uh, "You got peanut butter in my chocolate. You got chocolate in my peanut butter. Together they taste like crap." "Matthew has been staring at me all day... and I love it." I don't think I get this one, it says, "I try to be good hard-worker-man, but refrigemater so messy, so so messy."
Lisa: I think that one's probably from Milos, the janitor.
Dave: Oh. Refrigem... oh, then that one's legitimate.
[continues reading the complaint cards]
Dave: Uh, "Who's the black private dick who's the sex machine with all the chicks."
Bill, Beth, Lisa, Matthew, Joe: SHAFT.
Bill: I thought we'd all enjoy that.
Dave: [reading one last card] And, "Help, I'm being held prisoner in a complaint box," which is actually kinda funny.

R. Reasons to smile?
Friday = Happy Hour and $5 margaritas. If that doesn't make you smile, you're pretty much soulless.

S. Season of choice?
Spring...around May when it starts to get warm again. Everything looks so pretty, you can bust out the flip-flops and you get to start eating dinner outside again.

T. Tag seven peeps!
Ummm, no. And for the record, unless you're talking about marshmallow Easter candy, there is no reason to use the word, 'peeps.'

U. Unknown fact about you?
I have wildly mundane dreams. Last night, I dreamt I was making a tour documentary about Bryan Adams. We stopped an urban high school and amazingly, the kids loved him. I dreamt this, ladies and gentlemen. Making a tour documentary about Bryan Adams was one of my dreams.

V. Vegetable?
I can't pick one. I'm a veggie polygamist of the worst kind.

W. Worst habits?
I pick my nails

X. X-ray or ultrasound?
Both depending on what was wrong with me. And for the record, total cop out on both this and the next one. X should have been X-Men (Magneto -- he has the best backstory ever).

Y. Your favourite food?
Pizza. I've eaten gourmet in swanky Italian places, Mack and Manco's (a cult fave down the Jersey Shore) and frozen $0.88 pies from Target and you know what? They're all delicious....except for Tony's. That man makes an awful, awful pizza.

Z. Zodiac sign?
Pisces. I exhibit pretty much all the tendencies of my sign -- creative, dreamy and soft like ice cream.

Less Than Three

2008-10-11T15:19:00.003-04:00

♥

A conversation between Mom and Myself

2008-09-29T09:58:00.001-04:00

Mom: Oh, I talked to your cousin today.
Jaime: Yeah? How is he?
Mom: He's good, he's good. He lost his job.
Jaime: .....

Losing your job is good if:

+ You're a drug mule who shoves heroin-filled balloons up your ass.
+ You're an interspecies erotica artist.
+ You work on the set of an Aaron Seltzer and Jason Friedberg movie.

My cousin works in finance.

Right....

Paul Newman: 1925-2008

2008-09-27T20:27:00.003-04:00

Actor. Philanthropist. Maker of delicious popcorn. #19 on Nixon's Enemies List.

I loved Paul Newman.

I have a crush on Ron Livingston and am so completely in love with Dan that sometimes, I get tongue-tied and weak at the knees just thinking about it....but Paul Newman? He's pretty much the archetype for the perfect man and I'm convinced that no-one - past, present or future - will come close to ever being as aesthetically appealing as he was.

My thoughts go out to Mr. Newman's family and friends. He was a good man and I'm sad to say goodbye to him.

Life Without You (Live) -- Stevie Ray Vaughan

38-13 Dolphins Win!

2008-09-23T19:12:00.000-04:00

Beautiful.
Just beautiful.

Lord, Beer Little Miss Sunshine Strength

2008-09-17T17:02:00.003-04:00

For the most part, I am Little Miss Sunshine.

No, not Abigail Breslin. I'm not nearly that adorable or that good a dancer.

I am, however, chipper, cheerful and always quick with a smile. So much so that the construction workers at my office actually call me, 'The Girl With The Smile' (highly, highly creative bunch).

However, every now and then -- the sheer asininity of her fellow man makes Little Miss Sunshine want to eat her own eyeballs out of frustration.

So, for no other reason than to help me feel better, permit me to rant a little via a series of open letters:

Dear Sir:

Calling every day is slightly excessive. Calling four times before 12:00 p.m. on the same day? Behavior worthy of a restraining order. Besides, I do not have the ability to make jobs magically appear. If I did, I would create some gloriously overpaid position for myself as pop culture blogger.

Thanks!

Jaime

_______________

Dear Ma'am:

If you can't figure out how to apply for one of our jobs, you're probably not qualified for the job itself. Oh and for the record, going to the correct website makes applying for the position that much easier.

Thanks!

Jaime

____________

Dear Sir:

If you are 17-years-old, you've basically grown up with internet access. You should be able to navigate a website and shouldn't need someone to hold your hand throughout the whole process. You could probably find internet porn blindfolded with a hand behind your back. Let's try to apply some of those skills to the job-hunting process, shall we?

Thanks!

Jaime

______________

Dear Ma'am:

Applying for every job means you're probably as qualified for them as Sarah Palin is to be vice president of the country. I.E. -- Not at all.

Stop applying.

Thanks!

________________

Lord, Beer Me Strength. No. Strike that. Lord, silo-sized margarita me strength.

Holy Shit, I Love You Part II

2008-09-13T21:55:00.005-04:00

Right now, I love:

Google: If Google was a pair of jeans, it would be that really comfy pair that you've had forever . You know, the ones that make your butt look great. If Google was a drink, it would be a cold beer on a sweltering day, a freshly brewed cup of coffee when you first get to work or a stiff cocktail on a Saturday night. If it was a person, it would be Ron Livingston:

Any excuse to post a picture. Man, he's attractive. You know, I'm almost glad that there's a zero percent chance of me ever meeting him because doing so would cause me to morph into the world's biggest idiot. I'd probably blush and make noises as opposed to cogent sentences.

Anyway, back to Google. I love the fact that it's easy to use, has super-cute personalized themes (Paul Frank, Betsey Johnson and Kate Spade!), allows me to stay connected at work despite the evil firewall and has a sweet feature that allows me to share all sorts of cool stuff. Check out the sidebar. Sharing is caring.

Ryan Adams: I've heard numerous accounts about what an asshole this guy is, but when you pen the most viscerally pretty and sad songs ever written? You can be an asshole of Limbaughian proportions and it's easily forgiven. Because I love you and want you be to happy, here is a whole mess of amazing Ryan Adams tracks for you to sample courtesy of The Hype Machine.

Illy Coffee: Everything else tastes like non-potable, muddy water in comparison. Or, better example? Remember that pipeline of shit that Andy Dufresne crawled through in The Shawshank Redemption? Yeah, that's what everything else tastes like in comparison to Illy coffee.

Kiss Kiss Bang Bang: Totally underrated with brilliant performances by both Robert Downey Jr. and Val Kilmer and the best dialogue I've heard in a long time. For example:

Perry: My $2000 ceramic Vektor my mother got me as a special gift. You threw in the lake next to the car. What happens when they drag the lake? You think they'll find my pistol. Jesus. Look up "idiot" in the dictionary. You know what you'll find?
Harry: A picture of me?
Perry: No! The definition of the word idiot, which you fucking are!

NetFlix Kiss Kiss Bang Bang. I mean, it got a standing O at Cannes! What else do you want?!

I Heart You: Funny, sassy and clever. If blogging was high school, I Heart You would be the really popular girl who also happened to be super down-to-earth and sweet.

And finally, on the opposite end of the spectrum -- Holy Shit, I'm Going Into Apoplexy

Fall's approaching and when you live in the mid-Atlantic states, this means a dip in temperature.

So obviously when you get home from work and wrench off the yoke of 'business casual', the first thing you want to put on is a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt you've had since 1998.

I'm set on the t-shirt (Javelin Yearbook represent!) but can't seem to find a pair of sweatpants that fit my garden-gnomesque proportions. Every pair I tried on today puddled around my ankles making me look (yet again) like a eight-year-old playing dress up.

Sweatpants Manufacturers (I'm looking at you, Victoria's Secret and American Eagle) -- please manufacture sweatpants in a Size 1 Short. Teeny girls deserve comfortable slackerwear too.

Put Food In Me....

2008-09-09T15:26:00.001-04:00

Although delicious, strawberry yogurt and a chocolate-and-sprinkles covered pretzel make a pretty terrible lunch.

It's 3:20 and I'm dreaming about spinach alfredo penne with fresh Parmesan and lots of black pepper.

Feed me....

Jon Stewart hits back hard on Republican allegations of sexism

2008-09-04T17:34:00.004-04:00

So, all these Republican feminists who came out of the woodwork, shrieking to the defense of Mrs. Palin -- where were you when Hillary was being vilified?

Is she considered less of a woman because her party affiliation and therefore, undeserving of your moral outrage?

If there's one thing Republicans really excel at, it's hypocrisy.

90210: We're Not In Kansas Anymore/The Jet Set

2008-09-02T22:13:00.009-04:00

When I first heard that 90210 was coming back, I was equal parts excited and leery.

Excited because I dig shows about pretty people with problems. Add gobs of cash to the equation and it's ratings gold. As a wise philosopher once said, "Mo' Money, Mo' Problems."

I was leery because there is no way this new incarnation could have been nearly as awesome as the Spelling soap. Dylan's dad dying in a car explosion, Donna Martin graduates! Kelly's insanely tumultuous life, Tiffani Thiessen casting off the Kelly Kapowski shackles and slipping into her new role as bad girl, Valerie Malone -- how can new 90210 possibly compete?

But, the more I learned about it -- the more I started to change my mind. A huge plus was the fact that Rob Thomas (not him) is involved in the development of the show. Thomas also developed Veronica Mars and if 90210 is half as clever, I've got high hopes.

Add to that the return of Jennie Garth, Shannen Doherty (best frenemies ever) and Joe E. Tata and you've got what constitutes as required viewing.

Let's meet 90210's finest, shall we?

Harry (Rob Estes): West Beverly High's new principal and patriarch of the Wilson clan. He's ruggedly handsome, has the body of a twentysomething athlete and in the first episode, we find out that he's got an adopted son he never knew about until now! Awesome.

Debbie (Lori Loughlin): Aunt Becky is back and she's still smoking hot. Again, Loughlin finds herself playing the sweetheart from the heartland trying to reconcile the differences between Midwestern values and a glam Los Angeles lifestyle.

Annie (Shanae Grimes): The anti-Brenda, Annie's kind of dorky and doe-eyed. She's also irritatingly unaware of her waify sex appeal. Imagine an emaciated Miley Cyrus but with better teeth. Grimes and Loughlin actually resemble one another, so this was great casting.

Dixon (Tristan Wilds): The Wilsons' adopted son. He plays lacrosse, he feels like he doesn't fit in and I'm not too sure what to make of him just yet. His character prompted the following conversation between Dan and I:

Dan: Bet you the black kid will be written off the show. He's boring.
Jaime: They can't write him off the show! He's a main character!
Dan: They wrote Brenda off the show.
Jaime: Touche, sir. Touche.

Tabitha (Jessica Walters): Although she's playing a former actress and Betty Ford Center regular, Walters basically reprises her role as Lucille Bluth from Arrested Development and she is fabulous. Jessica Walters puts the 'sex' in sexagenarian.

Kelly (Jennie Garth): She's back but this time she's not being stalked by psychotic women, getting sexually assaulted, fighting over Dylan or addicted to psychotropic substances....yet. Ms. Taylor is working as the school guidance counselor and has a four-year-old son named Sam. Allegedly, Sam's daddy is none other than bad-boy Dylan McKay, but Dylan's MIA and the kid looks an awful lot like Steve Sanders, so no clue what's up there. And speaking of family...

Silver (Jessica Stroup): Kelly and David's half-sister Erin has grown up and ditched the blonde hair and the first name. A music junkie (something she obviously picked up from big brother DJ David), she becomes BFF with Annie after noticing an obscure band sticker on Annie's notebook. Silver is infamous for her blog, The Vicious Circle. Mainstream media pundits take note -- not all bloggers are Cheetoh-dusted basement dwellers.

Naomi (AnnaLynne McCord): Poor little rich girl who manages to look both pharmaceutically dazed and wantonly feral at the same time. She spends the first five minutes of screen-time stressing about her sweet sixteen -- a Misshapen hipster wet dream with Tilly and the Wall serving as house band and Cory Kennedy and Mark the Cobrasnake in attendance. Sidebar: Someone please explain Ms. Kennedy's fame to me? Thanks.

Ethan (Dustin Milligan): A lacrosse player Annie locked lips with a few summers ago. Our boy Ethan is not only dating Naomi but also cheating on her with some random chickenhead who digs giving head in parked cars. This prompts sweet innocent Annie to ponder, "I just don't get why Ethan would cheat on someone like Naomi....?"

To co-opt and ameliorate the words of Stu Macher, there's always some stupid bullshit reason to cheat on your girlfriend.

Long story short -- Ethan and Naomi break up rather publicly and Ethan begins flirting with Annie. And like an idiot, she flirts back. Having a 3% memory retention rate, I guess Annie forgot all about the vehicular fellatio she witnessed.

Navid (David Steger): The Persian politico and second token minority of the show. Navid runs the West Beverly Blaze and reminds me so much of Cher's classic quote from Clueless -- "They do the T.V. station. They think that's the most important thing on Earth. And that's the Persian mafia. You can't hang with them unless you own a BMW." Fun fact? His dad's a big time porn producer.

Adrienne (Jessica Lowndes): Pill-popping, bread-winning actress who looks like Nelly Furtado...if Nelly Furtado modeled for American Apparel.

George (Kellan Lutz): Blonde guy who looks like he'd excel at lacrosse, water polo and date rape. If this was The O.C., his main broseph would definitely be Luke.

Ty (Adam Gregory): Hot, wildly wealthy and seemingly sensitive. For a first ~~date~~ hang, he jets Annie off to San Francisco for a bite to eat. Annie's take on the experience -- "This is like Pretty Woman only I'm not a whore!"

Mr. Matthews (Ryan Eggold): Hip English lit teacher who resembles Ryan Gosling's dorky kid brother. He's got a crush on Kelly (who doesn't?) and I've got a crush on him.

The plot of the pilot was essentially the same as the original but sexier. The first twenty minutes and we're already witness to a blowjob in a car. Way to keep it classy, guys.

The Wilsons move from Wichita, KS to a lush mansion (no, it's not Casa Walsh) in America's most famous zip code. Annie and Dixon quickly learn that Beverly Hills in nothing like Kansas.

Mr. Matthews assigns Naomi to be Annie's "Beverly Buddy." Despite the fact that the plan reeks of fail, it actually works out to Naomi's advantage. You see, planning a Super Sweet Sixteen is hard work and can heavily interfer with your academic life. Naif to the rescue! Annie hooks Naomi up with an old paper about A Tale of Two Cities and Naomi plagiarizes the whole thing. Obviously. To make up for it, Naomi buys Annie an $800 dress. If my friends ever did anything like this, they'd probably just apologize and leave it at that. Cheap bastards.

Meanwhile, Dixon is harassed by his lacrosse teammates. When Mr. Matthews demands the truth about the altercation, Ethan (the only witness) steps up to the plate and promptly lies about the incident, defending his teammate and getting Dixon 86'd from the team. Yes, Ethan is a massive douchebag.

Annie becomes the "star" of Silver's blog in a crudely-animated video -- payback for dissing Silver for Naomi earlier (these two go back and their history ain't pretty). But, Silver makes it up to Annie by getting the budding thespian a role in the chorus of Spring Awakening.

Ethan decides he's got some manning up to do as well, so he reveals the truth about the fight. Unfortunately, Dixon has already sent Naomi a text message stating the obvious -- homeboy is cheating on you and you might wanna get that itch inspected. Because this is television, Naomi gets the message right before her big moment at her Sweet Sixteen. It's around this time that Harry learns about the son he never had from Naomi's mom.

Since it's a two-hour premiere, Hour Two kicks off with garbage. Lots of it. Piled up in the halls of West Beverly courtesy of hometown rivals, Palisades High. To get revenge (and win the admiration of his teammates), Dixon borrows three little pigs from Navid's father porn set (Dude, what kind of movie is this?) and releases them on Palisades' football field. He gets off easy though when Harry learns that inspiration came from a prank he had pulled years earlier.

While Dixon's playing This Little Piggy, Annie is being wooed by Ty, the lead in the school play and a teenager so unfathomably wealthy that he can afford to take a girl to San Francisco for dinner. Unfortunately for Annie who was supposed to be on Gangy-Watch, Gangy gets into a minor car accident and Annie gets grounded. Worst of all -- her parents cut off her coffee money allowance! Jesus, is this Beverly Hills or Abu Ghraib?! It's OK, though because the show ends with Ty smooching Annie while a surprised Ethan watches on, cuddling a stuffed octopus and pouting ever so slightly.

The pilot was pretty good but what I'm really looking forward to is November. I.E. -- Sweeps month. You know there'll be some serious drama going down and I can't wait to see how it does.

Finally, a quick edition of Thumbs Up/Thumbs Down to wrap it all up.

Thumbs Up/Thumbs Down:

Thumbs Up: Liz Phair does the music for the show! I love her and I also love the fact that the opening scene featured Viva La Vida by Coldplay. A bit overplayed but a good choice nevertheless.
Thumbs Down: The new theme song isn't nearly as awesome or iconic as the old one. What can I tell you? This girl loves her sax solos.

Thumbs Up: Nat's back!
Thumbs Down: Why is the Peach Pit a coffee place? Nat should be slingin' Megaburgers, not macchiatos. Oh and what happened to the Peach Pit After Dark? Why has it been renamed The Pit? DJ David and bartender Noah would not approve.

Thumbs Up: Hannah Zuckerman Vasquez is back and repping her Mom's legacy at the Blaze.
Thumbs Down: Donde esta Andrea y Jesse?

Thumbs Up: Jackie Taylor returns next week as Kelly and Erin's pill-popping hot mess of a mom. Sorry, Dina Lohan. Jackie's an O.G. and you've got nothing on her. Also scheduled to return? Brandon Walsh himself! I can't wait to see the prodigal son return.
Thumbs Down: Luke Perry has no interest in returning to the show. Dude, what else are you doing that's so important?

Artwork and Politics

2008-08-31T09:19:00.009-04:00

We're hunting for artwork for our institutionally white walls.

We've put up an Almost Famous poster and ordered a very cool, very film noir Veronica Mars poster:

Dan and I are big TV/movie people and wanted to find artwork reflective of us and our tastes as opposed to just slapping up something generic like a Parisian cityscape or a black-and-white image of a mountain.

Now, I'm trying to find cool typographical art (we're both writers. This only makes sense) and something for the kitchen that relates to food without being:

A) Cutesy in that faux country farmhouse way
B) An advertisement for alcohol.

The more I think about it, the more I like the idea of song lyrics printed in bold-colored cardstock. Something like this:

I think it could work.

On a more political note, I've noticed Republicans been making a lot of snide comments about Barack Obama's "celebrity" status. According to them, celebrity status should be vilified. Well, I'd like to bring something to their attention. Ronald Reagan was not only an actor, but president of the Screen Actor's Guild. I.E. -- a pretty big celebrity.

A little less hypocrisy and bullshit goes a long way, guys. Just sayin'. Oh and speaking of bullshit, regarding McCain's vice-presidential pick, Sarah Palin?

Bwahahahahahahahahah!

I can't wait to see Joe Biden eviscerate her in the debates. Ms. Palin doesn't stand a chance.

2008-08-25T16:04:00.000-04:00

I want a West Beverly High t-shirt.

Just how much of a complete douchebag does that make me?

Yeah....that's what I thought.

They fell in love, didn't they?

2008-08-21T20:02:00.006-04:00

Rachel McAdams and Ryan Gosling are back together.

Which gives me a great excuse to post this clip.

We were having a conversation about The Notebook at work and a majority of the ladies at the office would pick Lon Hammond Jr. (played by James Marsden) over Noah Calhoun (played by Ryan Gosling).

Dub tee eff?!

Yes, Hammond (played by James Marsden) is rich, charming and good-looking...

...but come on!

Noah built Allie her dream house! And he's a poet! And he looks like this!

In my world, love > money every time.

I guess that's why I'm marrying a writer who kisses me twenty times a day and sings to me instead of a CEO who's never home.

Saukrates - Money or Love

Holy Shit, I Love You! Part One

2008-08-15T18:05:00.002-04:00

Yes, originally uploaded by CrissyAlright.

The first in a series of random things that I love. Holy shit.

+ The new issue of Nylon Magazine. It's the TV issue and I've gotta say it's probably my favorite one yet.
+ The new 90210. I'm excited for it...even if there isn't any Brenda-Kelly-Dylan drama afoot ("Brenda, I'm a Spring Princess!" "Kelly, I don't give a damn!")
+ C.O. Bigelow Rose Salve. It smells delicious and is Carrie Bradshaw approved.
+ Diet Coke.
+ Bobby Darin.
+ These giraffe-print Dr. Scholl slides. Totally cute, totally comfy and giraffe print is the new black. Trust the girl who lives in jeans and flip flops.
+ The music in Can't Hardly Wait. I would definitely buy a complete compilation -- Third Eye Blind, Sublime, Dire Straits (is there a clause in Ethan Embry's contract that requires all movies starring him to feature this song? He danced to it in Empire Records as well), Missy Elliot, Guns 'N Roses, Busta Rhymes, Barry Manilow Boyz II Men and Nazareth?! Come on -- that's a killer party mix.
+ Springfield Punx. Ever wondered what Tobias Funke would look like if he cameoed on The Simpsons? Check it out. Dean T. Fraser is a pretty talented guy.

The breakfast I had at the Nectar Coffee Shop on Madison Avenue in New York City. The coffee was the best I've ever had in my life (everything else tastes like muddy dish water in comparison), the bialy was delicious and the whole thing cost me less than $5! Holy shit, I loved it and will definitely be making a return visit.

They should call it FuckDonalds.

2008-08-12T13:37:00.001-04:00

I hate McDonalds for a litany of reasons:

- Their mascot is a clown. Clowns are terrifying. John Wayne Gacy used to dress up as a clown. He was a serial killer. Think about it.

- Their food is terrible -- the fries don't taste anything like potatoes and don't disintegrate like real food should, they have a staggering lack of vegetarian options (even Burger King offers a thoroughly mediocre veggie burger) and their McFlurries end up giving you the McFlurries. Disgusting, but true.

- Breakfast stops at 10:30 a.m. as opposed to 11:00 a.m (Thank you, Big Daddy). Trying to order breakfast after 10:30 a.m. is like trying to get George W. Bush to pronounce the word 'Nuclear' correctly -- a damn near impossible and thoroughly futile task.

I rarely, if ever, patronize this franchise but Dan wanted a chicken sandwich and since Chik-Fil-A is closed on Sundays, we decided to hit up the McDonalds' Drive Thru.

It's 10:33 a.m.
Breakfast is over.
Has been for three minutes.

If you try and order an Egg McMuffin, I'm fairly sure that red and yellow stormtroopers will come out and attempt to drown you in a vat of secret sauce.

Luckily for us -- the chicken sandwich is on the lunch menu. The number eight. A lucky number in some culture. Not for us, though.

I pull up to the drive-thru and place my order, speaking loudly and clearly so nothing will get lost in translation:

Jaime: Hi! Can I get the number eight chicken sandwich and a Coke, please?
Drive-Thru Dude: (garble garble) Numba eight? (garble garble)
Jaime: Yeah -- the number eight chicken sandwich and a Coke.
Drive Thru Dude: (garble garble) $5.40 (garble, garble).

I pull up to the cash window, fork over my money and proceed to the pick-up window.

I pick up my food and am about to drive off when Dan realize that instead of a chicken sandwich, the bag contains a Sausage McGriddle.

Dan: This is wrong.
Jaime: The entire concept of McDonalds is wrong.
Dan: No, this isn't a chicken sandwich. This is a Sausage McGriddle.

The guy behind us blares his horn. Calm down, asshole. You'll get your artery-clogging garbage in a minute.

I tell Window Guy that the order is wrong.

Jaime: Hi! Sorry, but this isn't what we ordered.
Window Guy: What did you order?
Jaime: The number eight -- a chicken sandwich.
Window Guy: The number eight is a Sausage McGriddle.
Jaime: But it's past 10:30 and the board outside says "Number 8 -- Southern Style Chicken Sandwich."
Window Guy: Board's broken. Number eight's a Sausage McGriddle.
Jaime: But I said chicken sandwich and breakfast is over.
Window Guy: Number eight's a Sausage McGriddle.

Goddamn it.

We're going round in circles and the guy behind me is practically apoplectic, so I admit defeat and drive off, sans sandwich.

Dan bites into his sandwich and discovers that a McGriddle tastes like a syrup-and-grease coated hockey puck while I remember that my ex used to work at McDonalds and is now in the military. I am suddenly very, very scared for the future of our country.

I abide by the rules of McDonalds' facist breakfast regime and still manage to get screwed.

I'm not lovin' it.

I had a dream last night and it fit me like a glove

2008-08-11T19:58:00.004-04:00

I keep having the same dream.

I win the lottery, move to Los Angeles and get my masters and doctorate at UCLA.

Lottery dreams usually consist of cars, mansions, designer shoes and travel to exotic locales.

Mine involve higher education.

Pffttt....even in my dreams, I'm a square.

Hell, I Still Love You New York

2008-07-28T10:13:00.023-04:00

Living in South Florida, you learn to dislike New York very quickly. Every winter, New Yorkers descend on your life like locusts who can't drive and make everything miserable. There's more traffic, more lines everywhere and worst of all, more Jets/Yankees fans -- I swear, they're like sperm. Only one in 30,000 has a chance of being a human being.

So, the idea of a South Floridian hitting NYC for the weekend is, in theory, a pretty terrible idea. But I've had a crush on big cities ever since I can remember and a weekend in one of the biggest seemed like a pretty great way for Dan and I to celebrate our anniversary.

My crush quickly bloomed into a full-blown love affair.

The noise, the crush of people, even the smell -- a heady mix of bus fumes, perfume, street food (particularly roasted nuts and hot dogs) and that X-factor makes you grimace momentarily. It's amazing and I can't wait until we go back.

Because we're all about riding in style, we took the Bolt Bus to NYC. It's efficient, it's clean and it only cost us $20 each for a round trip. Highly recommended.

We're here! The first thing we did was head over to see our friend Bryan at work. He was sweet enough to play host/tour guide all weekend and he was amazing. Bryan works at HBO and because of this, we actually got to eat at the HBO eatery, cleverly titled tHe BistrO. Get it? Yeah.

Because I am a nerd, I dragged Dan to Nintendo World where I spent a good ten minutes searching frantically for a Link plush toy. My search came up empty. Sadface.

Ladies and gentlemen, my fiance is a member of the Dharma initiative.

Dan and Bryan at the Brooklyn Promenade. God, I'd kill for this view. It's gorgeous.

We had breakfast at the Nectar Coffee Shop on Madison Avenue. I had a bialy -- which is like a bagel crossed with an English muffin (a buffin?) and the best iced coffee I've ever had in my life. Seriously, after drinking this -- I wanted to start a petition to change the name of Dunkin Donuts to Dunkin Garbage.

My breakfast was so good, I became a little gangsta. Just a little. Polish Ashkenazi cuisine will do that to a girl.

Then, we headed to the Metropolitan Museum of Art. They have the coolest exhibition going on right now called Superheroes: Fashion and Fantasy which not only features actual superhero costumes (Christian Bale's from The Dark Knight, Michelle Pfeiffer's from Batman Returns, Rebecca Romijn's from X-Men, Tobey Maguire's from Spiderman....) but also interpretations on each costume by designers like Marc Jacobs and Versace. It's amazing and I highly recommend it.

There was another pretty fantastic exhibit on the roof of the Met. Jeff Koons' exhibit runs through October 26 and if you get a chance, you should check it out.

My favorite of Koons' pieces.

All the pretty artwork got to me. As Bryan put it, I look like, "the overaggressive girl in second grade who just had to kiss you."

After the Met, we headed to Broadway where I saw my first show titled [Title of Show]. The plot's very clever and very meta -- it's about two guys playing themselves writing a play about two guys playing themselves. It's hysterically funny, the music is great (Heidi Blickenstaff has an incredible voice) and there's a shirtless guy and a lesbian kiss. A perfect musical.

55 Central Park West. Also known as "the Ghostbusters building." Dan was so excited to see this in real life. Cutest. Movie Nerd. Ever.

"Nobody steps on a church in my town!" -- Peter Venkman.

Red Mango frozen yogurt is effing delicious. As witnessed by my bare-empty cup here.

Keeping with the dessert theme, even the cookie cake knew what was up.

So, in closing -- yeah, the place is filled with Jets fans (i.e.: scum of the earth douchebags) and schmucks who are stupid enough to roll joints right there in the middle of the street (you know what's funny? When a gust of wind picks up and blows all their weed away. Hilarious), but in the words of Ryan Adams -- Hell, I still love you, New York.

Food + Work = Fork

2008-07-22T19:42:00.003-04:00

One of the reasons I like the ladies I work with so much is because they all really appreciate food. Example: today, we decided to have a Thanksgiving-in-September Pot Luck Lunch.

Everyone's going to bring in a Thanksgivingy dish, we will feast like hell-damn-ass kings and then, I'll probably fall asleep at my desk and wake up with Post-Its stuck to my hair and an imprint of a paper clip on my cheek.

Being English, the glory of Thanksgiving was lost on me for eleven tragic years.

There were no cute little palm turkeys, no parades with giant inflatables and certainly no mashed potatoes and stuffing come the fourth Thursday in November.

Then -- I moved to the States and met The Best Friend's family. Wonderful, glorious people who introduced me to mashed potatoes, green bean casserole, cranberry sauce, stuffing, sweet potato casserole, Indiana corn, pecan pie and soft buttery rolls that practically floated off of the table and onto your plate.

Needless to say, Thanksgiving quickly became my favorite time of year. Football, family and enough food to quell the appetite of Kobayashi . What's not to like?

I began lusting after Thanksgiving food. March would roll around and I'd start to crave stuffing or I'd get a vicious jones for mashed potato volcanoes with green bean casserole lava (What? I make my food fun).

Thus began my bastardization of Thanksgiving dinner.

A couple of years ago, The Best Friend and I decided that waiting until November for Thanksgiving food was ridiculous and that lead to the birth of the Gobblewich-- a sandwich so delicious, it makes everything else on the planet taste like hot, wet garbage.

Although the name is genius, the sandwich's true genius lies in its simplicity.

A breaded mashed potato-and-stuffing patty served with slices of turkey and cranberry sauce on a buttered roll. Add a couple of green beans and a side of homemade macaroni and cheese and you'll be dropping into a food coma before you've had time to wipe that errant smear of cranberry sauce from your chin. What's not to like?

Hmmm....I'll bet this is exactly how Ben Franklin felt when he invented electricity.

See The Dark Knight

2008-07-18T15:50:00.008-04:00

I took the day off work today.

Why? Because Dan and I had tickets to the 9:00 a.m. IMAX screening of The Dark Knight. This meant waking up at 6:20 and waiting in line outside of the theater by 7:00 a.m. When we arrived, there were about ten people ahead of us.

At 11:38 a.m., I was back outside of the theater, blinking in the sunlight and completely mesmerized by what I had just seen.

Even if I could manage to string together a sentence on how shit-rockingly awesome this movie is, I wouldn't want to because I would hate to ruin it for anyone who has yet to see the film.

If you like movies in any capacity whatsoever, see this film (preferably on an IMAX screen). It's brilliant. Seriously.

It's the weekend, I have the day off, I just saw a fantastic film and I'm in a hell of a good mood, so I'm sharing the love:

Dark Night -- Tito and Tarantula

Completely unrelated (kinda) but equally badass! Enjoy!

P.S.

Christian Bale has earned himself a permanent place on the Laminated List. Like a bag of hammers, I would.

Val Kilmer Sucks. George Clooney Sucks.

2008-07-14T18:44:00.003-04:00

In honor of The Dark Knight, it's Batman month at Casa Awaiting-A-Name. This means reading all about the Caped Crusader and the Rogues Gallery that terrorizes Gotham, checking out Batman Unmasked: The Psychology of the Dark Knight on the History Channel and watching all the movies.

Having already watched the camp-tastic 1966 film starring Adam West and Tim Burton's takes on Batman a couple of times earlier this year, I decided to plunge headfirst into the mythos by watching the subsequent films.

I started with Batman Forever.

Since I'm hungry, I'm going to serve up a compliment sandwich -- a juicy criticism served between two thick slices of whole-grain compliments.

Compliment: Before Nolan reinvigorated the series with Batman Begins and put Batman/Bruce Wayne center stage, the movies had always been about the villains. Nicholson got top billing as The Joker (although Jack would probably get top billing if he was playing a background extra) and anytime you combine Michelle Pfeiffer and black vinyl -- well, does anyone really care who else is in the picture? [Sidebar: It's ridiculous how beautiful Michelle Pfeiffer is. She's as gorgeous now as she was twenty years ago]. Batman Forever continues this tradition.

Jim Carrey's Riddler and Tommy Lee Jones' Two-Face looked like they were having a blast wreaking havoc in Gotham. Jones bit a bit too much of his performance from Jack but his riotous laughter and Gollum-esque usage of plurals made for some pretty decent popcorn entertainment. As for Carrey, he played The Riddler as a complete lunatic whose mind is almost as elastic and flexible as his face. He also spits out two of the best lines in the movie -- "If knowledge is power, then a God am I" and "Was that over the top? I never can tell!" The latter being a deft jab at critics of Carrey's comedic contortions.

Criticism: The movie is completely unremarkable, lacks a strong sense of story and aside from the villains, the performances are thoroughly lackluster. Kilmer is morose and wooden, O'Donnell's Robin is not only completely unnecessary but whiny to boot and although Nicole Kidman has the femme fatale thing down, her breathy whispers don't compare to Kim Basinger's va-va-voom vixen Vicki Vale. In short, the movie is boring. Really, really boring.

Compliment: As bad as Batman Forever is, I've been told Batman and Robin is even worse. When I mentioned watching Batman and Robin to Dan, he looked at me like I was insane and said, "When you're watching it, you'll wish you were watching Batman Forever." Not exactly high praise but praise nevertheless. Sorta.

I think I'll watching Batman and Robin solo, but I mean -- how bad could it possibly be? After all, if I sat through Da Hip Hop Witch Project, I can definitely survive this.

Welcome to the Terrordome

2008-07-12T18:41:00.006-04:00

(courtesy of Popsugar)

America is the only society in the world where effete morons like Heidi Montag and Spencer Pratt not only survive past adolescence but actually thrive and prosper.
The only society where being talentless, blonde and pumped full of plastic is an EZ-Pass to celebrity -- a status that's getting easier and easier to attain with each passing day.
The only society where you can take two people whose collective IQ doesn't equal the amount of calories in a cup of cabbage and hand them lethal weaponry.

The ever-elusive "they" don't hate us for our freedom as George W. Bush has tried to convince us many times over.
"They" hate us because of things like this.

(courtesy of Popsugar)

Looking at these pictures is the only time in my life I have wished Dick Cheney was around.

On the list of things I hate about us:

- Anything even remotely related to Tila Tequila and the very concept of an Internet celebrity. Having a million friends on MySpace does not make you worthy of anything other than derision.
- Easy Mac and Crustables. Seriously, how effing hard is it to make a peanut-butter and jelly sandwich?
- NASCAR. Gas costs $4.15/gallon and these assholes just use it to go around a track for hours.
- The fact that Yahoo! Mail is now blocked by the company firewall. In the company's defense, though -- Yahoo! was littered with a ton of ads. Looks like I'll be making the switch to Gmail permanent.
- Karl Rove. I thought nefarious super villains only existed in comic books. Sadly for America -- I was very, very wrong.

However, it's the weekend and I don't want to start things off on a salty note, so here's a list of things I'm currently throughly enamored with:

- The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini. Spare, evocative, heart-breaking and compelling. I read the entire book in one day and loved it. I picked up Hosseini's second book, A Thousand Splendid Suns and I can't wait to read it.

- Mangoes. Ate a sliver and then, went out and bought an entire box of them. Nothing tastes more like summer time.

- The Public Library. Thousands upon thousands of books all for free. It's an amazing and seriously underappreciated institution.

- The Dark Knight. Dan and I tried to get tickets for the 12:01 IMAX showing but they were sold out. Stupid fanboys. So instead, we'll be catching the 9:00 a.m. showing on July 18. I don't think I've ever been this excited for a movie before. Ever. Not only do I have the utmost faith in Nolan, but I am completely mesmerized with both Christian Bale and Gary Oldman. Particularly the latter.

Gary Oldman is an actor in the purest sense of the word. He's a chameleon who really bites his teeth into every role he takes on and really has the audience believing that he is Sid Vicious, Sirius Black, Beethoven, Lee Harvey Oswald, Dracula, Pontius Pilate or a lazy-eyed pimp named Drexl Spivey. The fact that Oldman has never won an Oscar is a glaring oversight on the part of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences.The man is undeniably brilliant and I can't wait to see him play Lt. James Gordon again.

Look bitch -- you knew I was a snake

2008-07-10T19:43:00.004-04:00

Once upon a time, a woman was picking up firewood.
She came upon a poisonous snake frozen in the snow.
She took the snake home and nursed it back to health.
One day the snake bit her on the cheek.
As she lay dying, she asked the snake, "Why have you done this to me?"
And the snake answered, "Look bitch, you knew I was a snake."

This is one of my favorite parables. Not only because of the Tarantino connection and the profanity ("mittens!") but because of just how true it rings.

My teen years were spent embroiled in this thoroughly ridiculous mess of a relationship. Looking back, I realize just how adolescent and pointless it was. But, when you're sixteen -- it's easy to justify sheer idiocy and I had a three-pronged attack.

1. I "loved" him and "understood" him in a way that no-one else did.
Ummm, no Miss Mensa. You didn't and you didn't. It wasn't so much love as it was wanting to be in love. See what happens when you surround yourself with movies and music? All those great scenes and song lyrics make you nuts. Just ask Rob Fleming.

2. He was different.
Wrong again, Baby Einstein. Well, actually -- he was different because unlike the men in my life now, homeboy had a doctorate in douchebaggery. A doD, if you will. Unfortunately, Sixteen-Year-Old Jaime thought he was different because he whispered all those sweet nothings that every girl wants to hear. I wasn't friends with The Best Friend yet because if I had been -- he would have smacked me upside the head and said, "Hey asshole! He's only nice 'cause he wants to get in your pants!" Damn you, Biffle. Why didn't we meet sooner?

Let's try for a hat trick, shall we?

3. We were destined.
Oh Sweet Caroline, how do you even get dressed in the morning?! It wasn't destiny so much as it was cheap rent that was responsible for putting the two of you in the same neighborhood.

If I had just realized, "Look bitch, you knew he was a snake," I could have spared myself some seriously pathetic personal history.

Instead of moping about this dude and writing endless paeans about the 'complex' nature of our relationship (in reality, our relationship was about as complex as a monotone Rubix's Cube) -- I could have been out eating a great sandwich or learning to salsa dance or whatever it is people do when they're not languishing in the throes of self-involved assery.

However, as much as I'd like to take back those countless hours where I connected to R&B tracks on a disturbingly personal level, without that experience -- I wouldn't have realized just how amazingly wonderful the Nice Guy is.

Yeah -- the nice guy. The guy who eats his vegetables, loves his mom, calls when he says he's going to, compliments you sans ulterior motive and makes your life easy. Or, if you're so inclined -- the nice girl. You know, someone like this:

(image courtesy of IngredientX.com)

So, I guess what I'm trying to say is -- look bitch, you mess around with snakes and you're going to get bitten. Granted, some people get a buzz from the venom, but this girl? She's with Indy when it comes to snakes.

P.S.: My guy loves broccoli, is taking his mom to see The Dark Knight, is pretty great about keeping phone dates, told me I looked pretty this morning and makes my life fairly easy. In the words of Salt 'N Pepa and En Vogue -- whatta man, whatta man, whatta man, whatta man, whatta mighty good man. Hmmm...that's two references to R&B in one entry. Someone's been spending a bit too much time at 90's R&B Junkie.

My name might as well be Fatty McButterpants.

2008-07-09T20:33:00.006-04:00

I got caught in a torrential downpour after work. By the time I got home, I resembled an extra from Titanic. A very grouchy extra from Titanic.

But because I spend a majority of my time channeling Slimer, my dinner made it all better.

So, what did my fabulous dinner consist of?

Flatbread topped with hummus and fresh salsa

Idiot-Proof Salsa:

Chop:

Tomatoes
Green peppers
Onions
Corn
Garlic

If you want to get a little more creative, feel free to add:

Black Beans
Tomatillos
Jalapenos, Habaneros or Serranos (if you're not afflicted with what Mom so tactfully refers to as, 'white man's tongue')

Mix with:

Salt
Cilantro
Extra Virgin Olive Oil.

Marinate for half an hour in the fridge.
Find any flat, edible surface -- chip, cracker, flatbread....
Smother liberally with salsa.
Eat!

Avocado and mango salad with fresh lime and crushed red pepper.

And for dessert, a chocolate-covered pretzel rod. Salt + Sweet = Winner. Every time.

Pascal from Big Night said it best -- "God damn it, I should kill you! This is so fucking good I should kill you!"

Put me on a plane/Fly me to anywhere

2008-07-08T16:00:00.001-04:00

I got really excited last night because I thought I found cheap tickets to Florida over Thanksgiving.

Round trip airfare for $260.

A steal, right? Couple that with the fact that I haven't seen my parents or sister in a year and this is the bargain of the century.

However, as with math and Kim Kardashian's fame -- my understanding of the Gregorian calendar is tenous at best.

I was looking up airfare for the week before Thanksgiving. The tickets I want cost upwards of $500.

Balls.

Happy Biffle...I mean, Birthday!

2008-07-07T20:23:00.001-04:00

Meet my best friend, Jerry. I think I've called him 'Jerry' a total of five times in my life. To me, he The Best Friend. Or, more obnoxiously -- Biffle (BFFL -- Best Friend For Life).

He introduced me to the glory (and crushing agony) that is Miami Dolphins football. He also introduced me to video games and the fine art of talking shit ("Knock knock?" "Who's there?" "Your mother's a whore."). He usually smells good and when he doesn't shave for five days straight -- he looks like a hobo. He listens to the world's most misogynistic hip-hop....and treats ladies better than anyone I've ever met. When it comes to holding open doors, he comes up aces every time. He's a great listener -- whether I'm having an emotional breakdown or excitedly jabbering about the fact that I saw a chipmunk, he listens to every last word. (Ladies, he's also single, so if you're in the market for a sweet Southern guy who'll call you 'sweetpea' and 'darlin', get in touch!)

You know how people make time capsules and bury all this stuff as representative of a certain era? Well, if there was a time capsule representative of the first ten years of the new millennium, I’d put him in it.

Hmmm...I find myself working with an awkward 'buried alive' motif. Not really what I was going for. Let me elucidate.

I’d put him in it because even though things are terrible now – war, economy spiraling down the toilet, cost of gasoline and food, famine, the environmental strain, Tila Tequila – The Best Friend represents the fact that despite it all, there is still an immense amount of good in this world.

He is the best friend I’ve ever had. Hell, he might even be the best person I know (he's tied for this honor with my sister. Solely because she introduced me to the term ‘mouthdump.’).

I could create a laundry list of all the reasons I adore and respect him but instead I’m just going to say that he's the best. Best friend. Best brother. Best influence. Best listener. Best guy.

I am so stupidly lucky to know him and be even a blip on your radar, much less his best friend.

So to my best friend, my biffle -- Have a wonderful birthday. I might not be with you, but I’m thinking about you and sending you all the good wishes in the universe.

Love you! Miss you! Happy Biffle!

Pears Lemonade

2008-07-06T14:28:00.007-04:00

+ + = ♥

Meet my sponsor for Summer 2008.

Lord, Beer Me Strength

2008-06-30T16:02:00.003-04:00

Esther has a flat tire.

She was waiting for me outside of my apartment -- completely dejected and flat. Kinda like Katie Holmes' post-nuptial personality. Damn her (Esther, not Katie Holmes).

Josephine never would have pulled this crap.

For the uninitiated, Josephine was my old car and the love of my life. She was a 1998 Mitsubishi Mirage two-door coupe and I loved her. I knew all of her quirks and noises, she was amazing when it came to gas (180 miles on a quarter tank - highway) and she loved driving with the windows down and the music loud.

I named her after Ride On Josephine, a rollicking George Thorogood number and then realized that there were a litany of great songs that were applicable to her (Josephine by The Wallflowers, Oh Josephine by The Black Crowes).

When I drove up to PA, Paps sold her (to a horrible woman who put WalMart rims on her!!!) and I inherited his car -- a 2004 Honda Accord also known as Esther.

I named her Esther because she's the same color as a varicose vein and because she handles and feels like a little old lady/Madonna's most annoying incarnation.

I don't think I have a donut. I know I don't have a jack.

That girl's been nothing but trouble. I want my baby back.

Lord, Beer Me Strength.