Pop Culture Librarian: March 2009

Tuesday, March 31, 2009

Thursday, March 26, 2009

Hey, remember the weird house that is next door to me? The one that should be on Extremely Crazy Home Makeover?

There is finally someone living there!

(If you want to remind yourself of The Crazy, read my post about it here).

To recap and bring you up to date, the house next to mine was a perfectly fine house. Then this lady bought it and went batshit with flip fever. Then she put a For Rent sign on it and tried to lease the gigantic shack for $5500 a month. It sat there for months and months with (what a shock!) no takers. Then she tried to sell it for one point one meelion dollars. Then it sat there for more months and months. Then she tried to rent it again. This time she got some takers who she didn't get a background check on and didn't get any deposit from and who never paid her a red cent in rent and squatted there for about three months. After they were evicted, the For Sale sign went back up. Then the fFor Rent sign went back up. Are you following all this??

Well last weekend, someone MOVED IN.

They are a group of guys- college students, it looks like. A parade of cars pulled up over the weekend and a bunch of boys and what looked to be their parents moved them all in. So now I think we have actual neighbors. Ones that might stay a while. I saw two of them on the sidewalk as I left my house this morning.

You know what will make you feel old, like a piece of cheese that has grown green and hairy? Looking at college students and thinking that THEY LOOK LIKE BABIES.

Seriously, these boys look three heartbeats away from a pair of Pampers. One of them is a dead ringer for Chunk from Goonies. The other one doesn't look like he can shave yet. Don't you have to have pubes in order to rent a home? Isn't that written into law somewhere?

I'm sorry I just referred to my new neighbor's pube deficiency. That was probs really inappropriate, huh?

Anyway, I guess new neighbors doesn't seem to be enough to get a whole blog post out of, but after two-plus years of waiting to see who was going to rent/buy the neighborhood monstrosity, we have a winner!

Subject change! Can someone please tell me what the hell that smell is that you get when you sit on a plane for a while? You know what I mean? There is that very specific, special plane stank. Nordic Boy got home from business in Dallas last night and the reunion was somewhat ruined by my having to tell him that instead of his usual deliciousness, he smelled of Plane. It's not something you can really smell unless you get way up in someone's koolaid, but still. It's not nice. Especially when you have a thirst for someone's koolaid.

Speaking of koolaid, there was this boy that Biology Girl used to like, back in the days of yore. And for some reason, Nordic Boy and I called him Purplesaurus Rex. It doesn't really matter why. Then, when we all figured out that he wasn't so nice, we called him Purplesaurus Rash. Which, let's face it, is a pretty good name for someone you don't like. Last week? Nordic Boy says the following.

Him: Remember that guy? The one BioGirl liked for a while?
Me: Who?
Him: Oh, you know. That one. Oh, what was his name? KOOL-AID STAIN?
Me: BioGirl liked someone named Koolaid Stain?
Him: Yeah, you know.
Me: Do you mean Purplesaurus Rash?
Him: Yeah. That's it. Same thing.

I'm kind of mad that that dude didn't stick around long enough for us to call him Koolaid Stain when we talked about him. He was gone too fast, and we never really talked about him again. But Koolaid Stain just seems like a nickname that has totally gone to waste.

Next time you think someone's kind of an a-hole, call them Koolaid Stain for me, ok?

Wow, how's that for a random post?

I'm out,
Librarian Girl

Wednesday, March 25, 2009

Enjoy the Silence

When Nordic Boy goes away on biznazz trips, I need to make plans with other people. Like, I really really need to do that. You may think this indicates that I am a weak-willed, codependent girly who can't go two days without her loverman. That is not the case. I am an independent lady. I can do for myself. I got this. Throw your hands up at me.

The reason that I go out of my way to make plans with people when Nordic Boy goes out of town is that if I don't, I can easily go through the entire time he's gone not saying one word outside of work. And to go three, four, five days without any non-work-related speech is just wrong. Right?

A big part of why this can happen to me is that when I am by myself, I don't speak. Perhaps this seems like an obvious thing to say, to some people. Of course you don't speak when you're by yourself. There's no one to speak to. But I have been conducting a little informal survey of my friends and I am realizing that most people, at least most weirdos that I hang out with, talk to themselves when they are alone. It doesn't seem to matter whether there is another person there or not, people are talking. They sing to themselves, they say hello to their plants, they make decisions out loud instead of in their head ("let's see, what shall I have for dinner tonight, Self?"). Ok, maybe they don't address their comments to "Self" like that, I don't know. How should I know? I don't do that. When I am alone, I shut up. I don't hum, I don't comment, I don't pontificate. I think to myself, inside my head, vocal cords turned off. Maybe if I stub my toe I might cuss or something. Other than that, it's crickets at my house.

So out of curiosity, I want to put this out to blogland. Do you talk to yourself when you are alone? Or are you a silence is golden type of person? Let' s hear it.

Put up or shut up. Or don't shut up, if that's how you roll.

I'm out,
Librarian Girl

Monday, March 23, 2009

Playing By Toothpaste

There is this horrifying scene in a movie I saw once, and it scarred me. Like, forever.

It wasn't The Ring. It wasn't Dawn of the Dead. It wasn't creepy Norman Bates and his momma. It was "Playing By Heart" starring the likes of Angelina Jolie, Sean Connery, and Gillian "Scully" Anderson, among others.

First of all, the movie is b-list. It's not a straight-to-dvd movie, but it was probably close. It's not high quality, is all I'm saying. In the movie, there are all of these separate plotlines about different romances, and as the movie goes on you see how all of these characters all know each other. Sort of a "Sidewalks of New York" idea.

One of the couples is Scully and Jon Stewart. Yes, that Jon Stewart. Don't go out and rent the movie if you are a Daily Show fan (me), and have a teensy crush on Jon Stewart (me again). First of all, it's embarrassing to see the man we all know to be so smart and funny and smart and smart and funny sitting right in the middle of this dumbass movie. He's just so... better than that. You don't deserve to see him that way. And second of all, he is in The Horrifying Scene. The one that scarred me.

I don't even remember the plot line. I don't remember anything but the awful scene. He and Scully, there are in wedded bliss in their apartment. Or shacked up bliss. Something like that. And Scully is brushing her teeth. Not fake brushing her teeth, the likes of which you see in tv and movies, where there is no actual toothpaste involved and it looks all pretty. She is actually brushing her teeth. With white, frothy, saliva-activated toothpaste. And Jon, my lovely Jon, swoops in and takes her in his arms, and they kisss. Like, he just laps up the toothpaste spilling out of her mouth, and they smooch it up.

THE HORROR.

Nordic Boy and I, we have been together for a long time. And we make out quite a bit. More than is really necessary, really. But in all the times we have kissed, we don't let our toothpaste, our IN USE toothpaste, touch each other in any way. Because, gross, right? Isn't that gross?

If I am wrong about this, and you all are sharing toothpaste in this way, please do not tell me. I want to believe this is not acceptable behavior.

So this weekend, I was brushing my teeth (and no, don't worry, I am not about to tell you a story where I saw the light and actually thought it was fine to kiss this way. I wouldn't do that to you). And while I was doing so, I look to the side (where the door is open into the hallway). Nordic Boy is walking back and forth in front of the door. First, he walks by in a "Walk Like an Egyptian" sort of dance. Next, he kicks by, like he has a top hat and is marching off a vaudeville stage. Next, he does an MC Hammer scoot by. Next, he booty-bops by, swinging an invisible pretend weave, and singing "to the left, to the left," like Beyonce. And so on. Each one weirder than the last. Finally, he stays in the hallway, and just peeks his head around the corner with a weird bug-eyed, smiling Carol Channing face and sings "Jeepers, Creepers, where'd you get those eyessssss!"

To which I answered by taking my toothbrush out of my mouth, bursting into laughter, and SPRAYING HIS ENTIRE FACE WITH TOOTHPASTE.

It was brutal. I didn't mean to do it, I swear. But the more he did crazy walks past the door, the more I wanted to laugh, but the more I thought I could hold it in until I was done. Bad call. Very bad call.

Some performers get tomatoes thrown at them. But this? This is unprecedented I am sure. The toothpaste spit-take. Onto the person I love most in the world, who is just trying to cheer up my day.

So as much as "Playing By Heart" has made me think about how I would never let my used toothpaste touch anyone else, ever, I have indeed sunk that low. Not cool, LG. Not even cool.

I'm out,
Librarian Girl

Thursday, March 19, 2009

"Memes, Madam! I Know Not Memes!"

So, I'm sorry this whole blog thing has fallen to shite for the past coupla weeks. Let's just leave it at that, ok, and not have to have an awkward Ross-and-Rachel-I-was-on-a-break conversation about why posting more often was just not working for me and how I cannot always fulfill my blog's needs. Every day for two weeks, the blog would look at me with desire. And I was all not tonight, honey, I have a headache. And then the blog would say something like pleasebabybabyplease and I would say I don't like it when you're all clingy and then the blog would say I'm waiting for you, every day and you are letting me down, and I would say dang you, I gots to hang with my girls sometimes, and then I gave the blog an icy stare and it crossed its arms at me.

But, we are all good now, mending fences with each other, so we don't have to keep playing these mind games.

Here's a little meme action for your pleasure, which was tagged at me (tagged to me? tagged for me?) by one of you all somewhere some time ago and I am all shame-shame to admit I can't remember who it was. That's right, I am not only going to not post for two weeks, but when I do, I am going to get all memey on you. HOW LAZY CAN I GET?

I am not usually very good at memes because I start to get all ornery about how the questions are formulated and I am not so hot with succint meme-like answers because I am Lady Blabs-A-Lot, so bear with me. You didn't think that meme-answering was a thing one could suck at, did you? It is not exactly a skill-based activity, after all. However, I suck at many things that require little to no skill. Kickball, for instance. Also, eating lunch is difficult for me. And Hungry Hungry Hippos.

Anyhoo. Here we go. My attempt at memery.

1. You can press a button that will make any one person explode. Who would you blow up?

Not to start off all Pollyanna, but why are we starting off with murdering someone? Is this really necessary? Chill out, dude. It's so not worth it.

2. You can flip a switch that will wipe any band or musical artist out of existence. Who will it be?

This whole meme better not be about killing people. I'm trying to play along but I really can't think of an artist I hate that much. The most I can muster up is just a mild disdain. Like...Heidi Montag. Who did attempt a recording career, yes? Or did I just dream that?

3. Who would you really like to just punch in the face?

Wow, so now we're not killing people, we are just hitting them. Emily Post didn't write this meme, that's for damn sure. I haven't been able to answer these questions very well so far, but this one, I think I can do. Bill O'Reilly kind of makes me go there. The librarian does not like Papa Bear.

4. What is your favorite cheese?
Dean Martin.

5. You can only have one kind of sandwich. Every sandwich ingredient known to humankind is at your immediate disposal. What kind of sandwich will you eat?

I swear I am not trying to be difficult, but the truth is I'm not a big sandwich eater. I tend to like a nice slice of avocado on a sandwich though. And spicy mustard. Is that good enough?

Jeezy Creezy, I suck at this.

6. You have the opportunity to sleep with the movie celebrity of your choice. We are talking no-strings-attached sex and it can only happen once. Who is the lucky celebrity of your choice?

Celebrities honestly don't do it for me, for the most part. Like Brad Pitt and George Clooney I find completely repulsive. A young Gregory Peck (who doesn't find Atticus Finch sexy?), maybe. So, yeah, I don't know.

7. You have the opportunity to sleep with the music celebrity of your choice, who will it be?
I'm not getting burned on that deal again. Band boys are the devil and I have a strict policy of not touching them ANY MORE.

8. Now that you've slept with two people in a row, you seem to be having an excellent day because you just came across a hundred-dollar bill on the sidewalk. What do you buy?
Yay! A question I can definitively answer! Clothes, without a doubt.

9. You just got a free plane ticket to anywhere. You have to depart right now. Where are you gonna go?
Home to see my folks. Not glamorous, but it's true.

10. An angel appears out of heaven and offers you a lifetime supply of the beverage of your choice. It is?
A beverage angel? Really? Water is my favorite beverage. Then I am partial to fresh squeezed juices. What a square.

11. Rufus appears out of nowhere with a time-traveling phone booth. You can go anywhere in the PAST. Where do you go?
Rufus? Like Chaka Khan Rufus? Or Gossip Girl Rufus? Or Wainwright, Rufus? (Yes, yes, I know it's Bill & Ted's Rufus, I just wanted to list all the Rufuses I could think of). I'd like to go and spend some time with my parents in Fiji when they were young and had just met and were rocking the hizzouse.

12. You discover a beautiful island upon which you may build your own society. You make the rules. What is the first rule you put into place?
No alarm clocks.

13. You have been given the opportunity to create the half-hour TV show of your own design. What is it?
I want the old variety show to come back. Like Donny and Marie, Sonny and Cher, Carol Burnett, Laugh-In, The Smothers Brothers, Ed Sullivan. God I am old.

14. What is your favorite curse word?
I love all the cusses like they are my own children.

15. One night you wake up because you heard a noise. You turn on the light to find that you are surrounded by MUMMIES. The mummies aren't really doing anything, what do you do?
Freak the fuck OUT. Obviously.

16. Your house is on fire! What do you do?
Get Nordic Boy and me out of there? Again, obviously.

17. The Angel of Death has descended upon you. Fortunately, the Angel of Death is pretty cool and in a good mood, and it offers you a half-hour to do whatever you want before you bite it. Whatcha gonna do in that half-hour?
Hold onto my honey, I'm not gonna lie. And also, ask the Angel of Death if he's related to the Beverage Angel and how the Angel duties get doled out like that.

18. You accidentally eat some radioactive vegetables. They were good, and what's even cooler is that they endow you with the super-power of your choice! What super-power is it?
I hate it when I accidentally eat radioactive vegetables. I always thought Magneto was really cool, but I don't really feel like I'll need to manipulate metal with my mind in my daily life. I mean, really. What am I going to do? Go to work and staple papers together with my mind? So maybe...accelerated healing would be good.

19. You can re-live any point of time in your life. The time-span can only be a half-hour, though. What half-hour of your past would you like to experience again?
Some sort of dance highlight, I think.

20. You can erase any horrible experience from your past. What will it be?
Yeah, I don't really want to say. Who put this depressing shit in the meme?

21. You got kicked out of the country for being a time-traveling heathen who sleeps with celebrities and has super-powers. But check this out you can move anywhere. Where are you going?
I kind of love where I live now. But if I am kicked out of the US, I would go to New Zealand where lots of my family are living now.

22. This question still counts, even for those of you who are under age, if you were banned from every bar in the world except one, which one would it be?
I so could not care less.

23. Hopefully you didn't mention this in the super-powers question... If you did, then we'll just expound on that. Check it out… Suddenly, you have gained the ability to fly! Whose house are you going to fly to first, and be like "Check it out I can FLY!?"
BioGirl's. Although I have given her crazy news in the past and it has caused her to run away from me and shut herself into the bathroom for a few minutes. If I could fly, she might might never come out, so maybe not.

24. The constant absorption of magical moon beams mixed with the radioactive vegetables you consumed earlier has given you the ability to resurrect the dead famous person of your choice. So which celebrity will you bring back to life?
Mr. Rogers.

Tuesday, March 17, 2009

Since I've Been Gone

Two weeks of no blogging? Are you kidding me?

Here's the excuse: much of that time, I was visiting my folks back in Michigan. As they live over the border of the Digital Divide, I usually make trips to the local library to get my blog fix while I am there, or at the very least ask a friend to blog sit for me and write up something guesty. This time, I didn't do a damn thing. I just up and left without a word, like the ungrateful heifer I am.

The heifer is back! Woot! Can I get a whut-whut??

...How about just a single whut?

Anyone out there?

***

Ah well, serves me right.

Rather than going into lots o' deets about the trip, I shall summarize it all with some lists. Because you know I love me some lists.

List of Books on My Childhood Bedroom Bookshelf
(Alternate Title: Why I Was A Teen Weirdo)
1. The Pistachio Prescription, by Paula Danziger
2. Comparative Economic Systems: Models and Cases
3. Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass
4. The Thorn Birds, by Colleen McCullough
5. Death of a Salesman, by Arthur Miller
6. Waiting for the Barbarians, by J.M. Coetzee
7. Pretty In Pink, movie novelization
8. The Cherry Orchard, by Anton Chekhov
9. Anne of Avonlea, by L.M. Montgomery
10. Jacob Have I Loved, by Katherine Paterson
11. Wuthering Heights, by Emily Bronte
12. Dracula, by Bram Stoker
13. Betty and Veronica Double Digest
14. The Color Purple, by Alice Walker
15. The Art of Making Dances, by Doris Humphrey
16. Maggie Adams, Dancer, by Karen Strickler Dean
17. The Great Wall of China, by Franz Kafka
18. Staying Alive movie novelization
19. One Brief Sweet Hour (a Harlequin Romance)
20. North and South, by John Jakes
22. The Second Sex, by Simone de Beauvoir
23. The Shy Ones, by Lynn Hall

Homemade things I stuffed in my gaping maw this past fortnight...(thanks, mom)

1. Cinnamon rolls
2. Blueberry muffins
3. Curried black eyed peas and potatoes
4. Fiji-style cabbage curry
5. Okra masala
6. Hummus
7. Baba ghanoush
8. Spinach pie
9. Tabbouli
10. Falafel
11. Veggie calzone
12. Dahl with dried mango strips
13. Breaded mozzarella sticks (ok this one wasn't homemade)
14. Chicago style pizza (that one either)
15. Stuffed grape leaves
16. Banana bread
17. Currant scones
18. Raspberry trifle
19. Lemon bundt cake
20. Veggie samosas
21. Baked eggplant
22. Sauteed spicy spinach
23. Rice pilaf (three varieties)
24. Avocado salad
25. Portobello mushroom sandwich
26. Sesame ginger stir fry
27. Channa masala
28. Cassava and tomato stew
29. Apple pie
30. Gallons and gallons of tea

Things Nordic Boy Fixed At My Parents' House
1. Re-tiled the floor in the laundry room and entry.
2. Replaced old parts in the furnace.
3. Replaced old parts in the de-humidifier.
4. Repaired a leaky sink.
5. Fixed a breadmaker.
6. Fixed creaks in the floor.
7. Fixed sticky windows that wouldn't open properly.

Things I Do Not Miss about My Hometown
1. The potholes. HOLY JEEZUS. I don't think I can even call them potholes. The roads where my parents live are like cement streets that have been walked on by Gojeera and Mothra. They are just big huge cracks filled in with large pieces of rubble. It is not even right.
2. The lack of basic things you would think an American town would have. Like ditches with drainage. It is really not cool, people. Shouldn't tax-paying people have yards that are not buried in muck, rather than shit that looks like this?

3. Trash. There is trash all over the place. It's sad.

So basically my message here is that if you live in a depressed town, shit just don't work. Like, infrastructure that should work, just doesn't. And it makes me kind of crazy and mad.

Things I Do Miss about My Hometown
1. The friendly people. People are so nice there, it's weird. All the warmth is like, overwhelming.
2. The pretty, flat grasslands. Makes me want to run around and fall down like Carrie Ingalls.
3. Huge, puffy white clouds in deep blue skies. We don't have those in Seattle.
4. Big factories. I know it's odd, but seeing a big smokestack makes me feel right at home.
5. My folks. Really, my parents rock, ya'll. They really, really do.

Hot Links

Boys Next Door

Enjoy the Silence

Playing By Toothpaste

"Memes, Madam! I Know Not Memes!"

Since I've Been Gone

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