i finished the stand and found it to be quite anti-climatic. by the end , i didn't like fran at all. she turned out to be a selfish brat. i gained a little more respect for trashy's character, although he will remain one of the most annoying people--to me, at least--in the SK universe. it sucks that the saving grace of the free zone was the trashcan man.
i was disappointed. don't get me wrong, i enjoyed the book, but when you invest that much time into something, you want a little more than an a-bomb miraculously saving the good guys. "let's move back to maine, where i am from. i don't care what you want, it's all about me. with a brand new baby and a toddler. and no doctor. who cares that you have a gimp leg and it might be hard for you to travel. i am homesick. me. me. me. me. me." sounds like a wise idea to me, frannie. dip-shit. why do dumb girls like that always get the stu's of the world?
anyway...
jenna was in town this weekend. we went to ancient art to get tattoos on saturday! ben and david went with us, but they were too wuss to get anything...haha. i was sort of worried about this outing, because i haven't spoken to david in a little over a year now. too many things happened at once back then...and while i regret that so much time has passed, i do not regret what i felt at the time. things seemed okay between us. nothing was said, but it was there. perhaps, like the beatles song says, we can work it out. i hope. i mean, i really had a good time. i miss that.
okay. enough of the sappy shite. now for my tattoo. i covered up the tacky off-the-wall-kanji-doesn't-mean-anything-to-me-shit i got when i was 20. i'm so happy with the result:
i love the beatles, and blackbird is one of my favorite songs. i've always been attracted to the traditional sailor tattoos as well. so i just combined the two. it was either "take these broken wings and learn to fly" or "living is easy with eyes closed". since i already have a melancholy depressing quote tattoo ("love fades"), and i didn't want it to seem as if i were copying dominic monaghan, i chose the more inspirational blackbird lyrics. jenna got dandelion seeds blowing across her back. we are both very very pleased.
i can't wait for jenna's wedding! i get to play dress-up and hang out with people i miss. i can't imagine planning all of the stuff she's planning, it would be a little overwhelming for me. when i get married, it will be in las vegas on april fool's day by an elvis impersonator. see, the planning is already taken care of :)
i'm attempting to watch the stand. i usually don't write and watch movies at the same time, but it's just not holding my attention. it's super-cheesy and despite the fact that there are quite a few good actors in it, it just feels 'flat'. did the director tell them all to behave like drama queens? and you don't really believe these people are going through what they're going through--it's like watching passions. and where the hell is joe-leo? they left the damn trashcan man in (most irritating stephen king character ever, and at first i thought they got THE NUGE to play him--hahahahaha), but deleted joe?!?!
god, this is excruciating to watch. are we supposed to believe that this top-secret military bio-hazard super-flu factory chose to install a cheap wire fence on training wheels as their main gate? i mean, that flimsy contraption was supposed to serve as the big 'lockdown'? a big wheel could've crashed through that thing (campion looks like that dude from the twisted sister videos, you know the animal house "what do you wanna do with your life?" dude). laura san-giacomo is so freaking annoying...how the hell does she get jobs? laura, for some reason, felt compelled to put nadine on the short bus. and i guess i was blinded by my love of '80's teen flicks, because molly ringwald is really not a good actress. hearing her croak through amazing grace was painful...and what in hell was she wearing?! wardrobe and hair must've hated claire standish, because she was stuck with a horrendous bob and clad in god-awful jean shorts and a black bra. oh, she was wearing a shirt, if you call a piece of puke gray cloth tied around your bra a shirt. i felt as if she should've had a big gulp in one hand and a bag of cheetos in the other ("where's mah lighter?"). what is up with the crypt keeper as randall flagg?
i will only finish this movie because i feel if you are going to criticize a movie/book/whatever, at least give it a chance and finish the damn thing, otherwise you have no grounds to base your snearing sarcasm upon.
update: okay...i could not finish it (i know, i know--i am a hypocrite), but i wouldn't make anyone suffer through this agonizingly dull shite. i tried, but when i figured out they had indeed cut joe out, i was out. i'll stick with the book. i have to revise my statement:
if you are going to criticize a movie/book/whatever, at least give it a chance and finish the damn thing (unless it's fucking stupid...you know i sat through MF robin hood: men in tights and i couldn't sit through the stand. that's saying something...'cause i am definitely, no way, shape or form, a mel brooks fan. so. not. funny. ugh. yes, throw the tomatoes at me, i stand by that opinion), otherwise you have no grounds to base your snearing sarcasm upon.
so i put the stand at the top of my netflix queue because its status was: very long wait. i assumed i would have a chance to finish the damn book before the movie became available. nay, nay, it is on its way! i watched it when it premiered on TV, but i don't remember much other than that hot piece, lieutenant dan, was in it. plus i hadn't read the book then so it completely went over my head. anyway. i need to go finish the book.
i went cadbury mini egg hunting this weekend. it began with a creme egg. i recently realized that i have become disillusioned with the creme egg. don't get me wrong, i adore them, but i don't eat them with gusto anymore. they make my teeth hurt. i am now much more attracted to the refined, beautifully colored mini eggs (a sign of age, perhaps. i have a theory that once you hit a certain age bracket (i.e. 'old'), you acquire a taste for butter pecan and cherry vanilla...maybe you lose your taste for creme eggs too)...they're still cadbury, but just not filled with teeth rotting goo. is this a sign of the apocalypse? i mean, in college, i devoted a webpage to creme eggs. i've devoured these things every easter since i can remember. they were a precious commodity to me, even the packaging was spared: i'd meticulously open each egg so as not to tear the chick emblazoned foil.
i think i am not enamored with easter candy in general any longer. i used to anticipate the coming of spring--it meant cadbury creme eggs, peeps (no easter basket is complete without a peep, yet no one really eats those vile things), reese's eggs, you know, all that yummy goodness. consumerism has taken away the novelty of easter candy. peeps miraculously transform into ghosts and christmas trees, reese's eggs morph into hearts and gingerbread men and this year, i discovered the cadbury creme ornament. i was not pleased. you would think i would have been excited, given my love for the things. i bought one and it didn't taste the same. if they are available year round, they're not special any more. the creme egg is now on the same level as a snickers or a milky way.
anyway, i had to go to four stores to get my cadbury mini eggs. i need my cadbury fix (the fruit and nut bar just doesn't cut it). at least, to my knowledge, these have not been tainted by other holidays. since i just became smitten with these little freckled eggs, i haven't really noticed them on shelves before, so it's more than likely they've been sold under the guise of mini-ornaments in muted tones of red and green. sigh. i will not give these things up. besides, i already have an idea for next easter: i will make macaroon nests filled with mini eggs! the sheer cuteness of it all is consuming me.
on my way to the gym today, i noticed a new sign above the recently vacated space (which had previously been a gym) next to it. in big, curving purple letters, it read puppyville. what the hell kind of store is that? the name evokes faint childhood memories of that depressing peanuts gang cartoon, snoopy come home. as a child i always imagined that the daisy hill puppy farm was a twisted, evil establishment of animal torture and abuse. i don't know why. but this does not abode well for puppyville...at least, for me. i'm guessing that this place will, in fact, sell puppies or dog-related items. i don't like pet stores. i never have. something about big animals and small cages rubs me the wrong way. but do you know what's on the other side of my gym?! a mammoth store called animal jungle. can you guess what they sell? this has to be the most redundant, flintstones-house-like city...ever.
i make something sugary for (almost) every holiday and for easter, it's peanut butter eggs. these things are so wonderfully toothache-inducingly delicious. but they're so rich, i can't eat them (note that i look forward to easter for one reason--the cadbury creme egg. why i can stand to eat those things and not a PB egg, i don't know)...or at least a whole one. my rule of thumb when baking vast amounts of fat friendly treats for the holidays: make sure it's something i don't like!
i meant to take a series of pictures as i was preparing them yesterday, but airheaded me forgot. it's not hard to imagine a small egg shaped chocolate. they sorta look like bigger versions of reese's eggs. except better. ha! this year, i enveloped the peanut buttery goodness with both white and milk chocolates (ok, it's chocolate flavored bark, whatevs). so good (say 'good' like sonny chiba in kill bill. at least that's what it sounds like in my head). the recipe is really easy, so i'll share...this is off the top of my head:
peanut butter eggs (this recipe can be halved)
2 sticks salted butter, room temp. (do NOT cheap-out and use margarine)
2 cups creamy peanut butter
2 lbs. confectioner's sugar (large bag)
4 T. milk (+ more, if needed)
salt (optional/to taste. i love reese's because they are salty. so i add lots of salt. don't get carried away and dump a shitload into your dough though. add it gradually. i know it's common sense, but some people don't have it--no offense. hehe)
white &/or milk chocolate coating (found near the chocolate chips, sometimes it's called 'bark')
if you forget or are lazy like i am and don't have the patience for room temperature butter, just zap it in the microwave for 12 second increments until soft. cream butter and peanut butter. gradually add confectioner's sugar, when dough gets difficult to stir, add milk a little at a time. once the dough comes together, knead it with your hands to make sure all the ingredients are mixed well. this is when you want to add salt if you want them to be...um...salty.
you will need two large wax paper lined cookie trays. be sure you have enough room in your freezer for these trays. scoop dough with a small ice cream scooper to get uniform size. you will then need to roll each scoop in your hands into the shape of an egg. place each egg on the wax paper. i usually get 32-35 eggs out of this dough. once you are done scooping, place the egg trays in the freezer to firm. keep them in there until you are ready to coat in chocolate.
melt the bark in a small saucepan on low, stirring constantly. once melted, put burner on simmer. if the heat is too high the bark will begin to get chunky and separate. believe me, it's ugly. take one tray of eggs from the freezer. loosen them from the wax paper and pile them up on one side. you will be using the same tray to lay the eggs on once they're coated, so you'll need the room. i hold the saucepan off of the burner in one hand and drop the eggs in (one at a time! two is one too many when doing this. it'll create egg chaos). using a tablespoon pour chocolate over the egg so it's fully coated. shake the pan as if you were popping popcorn to "smooth it out". remove the egg with the tablespoon, shake excess chocolate off, and place onto wax paper. repeat until finis (don't forget about that second tray in the freezer!). let chocolate set...this doesn't have to be done in the freezer. just leave them on the trays on the counter. be sure to keep an eye on them, they tend to disappear...and if you have overtly curious cats, well, you see where i'm going with that.
i use plain old cupcake liners to line these with. you can either share these with others or pig out at home and go into a diabetic coma. whatever. it's your choice! be sure you store them in an air-tight container in the 'fridge. you don't want them to melt on you.
ENJOY!
sara tagged me!
RULES OF THE GAME:
1. Each player starts with 8 random facts/habits about themselves.
2. People who are tagged need to write their own blog about their 8 things and post these rules.
3. At the end of your blog, you need to choose 8 people to get tagged and list their names.
_____________________________________________
1. i fell down--hard--on my way back from william wallace's monument in stirling, scotland. i bust open my knee. shortly afterwards i started developing rheumatoid arthritis symptoms. i have it in my head that this fall is somehow connected to my RA. i know this sounds like some lame-o time life mysteries commercial, but i really do think there is a link. damn braveheart.
2. i really love to watch bob ross paint his happy little trees. he mesmerized me as a child.
3. i am scared to go out into the garage at night because: a. i fear that the siamese twin that was hanging out of the tall creepy dude who plays the tall creepy dude in most shows/movies in the freakshow episode of the x-files will crawl towards me and try to burrow into my stomach thus killing me, b. sara laughs from bag of bones will tap once for yes, twice for no and c. BTK is waiting to pounce.
4. my favorite scene of any movie EVER is the nipples of venus scene from amadeus--it's not as saucy as it sounds. if you guys ever see those candies, i want one and i will pay you for it!
5. i don't like to talk on the phone. i am really bad at returning phone calls. i won't even call close friends--i know, it's amazing i have close friends, right? :)
6. i want to climb up to machu picchu. i don't want to take the train, i want to do the hike even though i know it'll be hot and buggy and i'll get all sweaty and gross.
7. i don't like it when people get on the elliptical machine right next to me when there are 20 other empty ones across the room, even though i will do the same thing to someone if they are on the machines next to "mine".
8. i add numbers on license plates, house addresses, phone numbers, signs, etc. until i get down to one number.
i tag: anyone that reads this damn thing :) tee-hee. have fun. or don't. i don't care if you do it or not. i just like to talk about myself. aww yeah. $240 worth o'pudding...
i mentioned it before, but here's the proof :)
i have to admit that i watched every american idol up until last year. i vaguely remember that ryan seacrist had a co-douche for the first season-- i don't know why he was kicked to the curb...even though i don't remember his name, he wasn't as chalk-board screechingly annoying as ryan. seriously, that bit of his in knocked up--you know his ass acts like that fo' real. i have no reason for my sudden disinterest in the show. i never really watched the seasons i did watch until after the 'hollywood rounds'. i guess i'm just bored with the concept. and the fact that although america is blessed with millions of people, the ones that actually have talent are not featured on american idol.
i tried to watch the whole narrowing down to the top 12 part these past few weeks. tried is the key word. when i heard they were going to sing beatles songs this week, i was horrified. so rather than listen to the butchering of yesterday, blackbird and let it be (one can safely assume that one of these beatles standards will be covered--by the way, who actually owns the beatles catalog now? i heard that apple finally came to an agreement with paul to sell beatles songs on iTunes--seriously, who doesn't already own all the fucking beatles songs? i don't understand it. the beatles should already be in your catolog of music. you shouldn't be downloading just 'hey jude' or 'strawberry fields forever'. screw iTunes and go buy the entire damn album. the album artwork is worth the price--and he stands to gain $400 million (hear that, heather?). i thought michael jackson was the one shilling the rights to these songs for crap advertisements/covers all these years. then i saw on some random blog that paul was the only beatle to not sell after the break-up, thus the reason he is mr. moneybags...i don't know. i'm nosey. shut up), i watched the excellent no country for old men.
i think javier bardem is my favorite actor now. he tops kevin spacey. i love kevin and all, i mean i have a framed autographed picture of him staring at me from my top shelf (i barely remember what was written in my fan letter to him to get this picture, but i know it was probably gushy and embarrassing), but i haven't seen any really blow-me-away movies from him in a long time.
anton cigurgh scares the be-jesus out of me, but i have something in common with him. if i don't take a hot iron to my wet locks in the morning, my hair resembles his dorothy hamill 'do. now that is scary.
i recently re-joined netflix, which has once again opened the doors to a plethora of independent and foreign movies for my 'discerning' viewing pleasure (haha....right. i own point break, blue crush and center stage and watch them...often). the first movie i put on my list, the sea inside, is a film i've been wanting to watch since it came out...ok, since it was oscar nominated and i saw clips of it here and there. in the foggy depths of my underused brain, i barely remembered that javier bardem is the star (go watch before night falls if you haven't already. and unless you have been living in seclusion with the amish a la john book, you should know javier from no country for old men). it made me wonder why he didn't win the oscar for this!
anyway.
the sea inside is a true story of assisted suicide. i know, it sounds bleak and depressing, right? this is why i put off watching it for so long. but it was amazing. it was beautiful; i was surprised by it. i haven't been blown away by a movie in a very long time. i can't tell you what i felt other than joy and inspiration. i was crying one moment and laughing the next (i know i sound cheesy). what is it about foreign movies--particularily mexican and spanish (should i just say hispanic? idk. ah! did i just use a chat anagram?! shiver. 'i don't know.' there) movies--that they have the ability to come across as a moving poem? not only the gorgeous cinematography, but the language is so beautiful i wish i could understand it without subtitles...
**seriously, how did eli stone get green-lighted? my god. johnny lee miller what the fuck are you doing? ugh...distracted by stupidity.**
anyway.
i've lost my train of thought. but i have been gushing about this movie to a lot of people, and i only watched it four hours ago. i'm already wanting to own it. that is why i want to marry netflix. it allows you to experience such touching movies as the sea inside which you would normally not rent and, hey, if you want to add the complete voltron series for sheer childhood nostalgic value to your queue, well you can do that as well.
while perusing the internet for celebrity gossip, i found out patrick swayze has been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer (not the most respectable way to find out when all you're looking for is another link to javier bardem's nudie stills...yes. i said 'another'). anyway, i remember when dirty dancing came out and everyone went crazy for it...my best friend at the time was even reenacting the crawling across the floor scene for her talent show (we went to different schools if you were wondering why i said "her" talent show instead of "our" talent show. how she managed to do something this sexual for a public school in the 7th grade is beyond me).
i never got to see dirty dancing at the theaters, so i didn't know the glory i was missing. i just knew that summer suddenly perms, cut-off denim shorts and keds were in style. years after it was released, after the perms were grown out and the cut-off denims and keds were donated to the DAV, i finally got to watch it on VHS. i adored it. i am supposed to adore that movie...being of the female persuasion...right (contrary to popular belief, i AM a woman. i am not elton john or gary oldman or fucking phillip seymour hoffman, who are, unfortunately, my wonderful myheritage.com look-a-likes. i like these guys and all, but i don't really want to be told i look like them)?!?! i'm not trying to be sexist or whatever, but i honestly don't think i know a female that hasn't enjoyed this movie.
i even went to college a few miles from where the actual resort is located. i don't know what it is about dirty dancing, but it brings out the squishy girly hearts and puppies side of me. it's not like i actually really like any of the actors and i don't even know who directed it, which is what usually attracts me to a movie (thus my juliette binoche, alfonso cuaron, quentin tarantino, pedro "i always spell his last name wrong" almodovar, diego luna/gael garcia bernal, LOTR, kate winslet collections). and nothing really annoys me--not even the sister singing "hula hana of kamana whala hula bay"--about it.
it. is. just. perfect.
so i am writing this to support patrick swayze. i am by no means the biggest fan of his, but one of his movies has made me smile on my darkest days.
as for those of you who have never given its sister movie, havana nights, a chance, i suggest you do so immediately.
