Consumables #45: Just Ducky

I have started to use the phrase "fuck a DUCK" way too much lately. Last night, I said it one too many times and Nordic Boy had to say back "will you leave those poor ducks ALONE?" And yes, I really should leave those poor ducks alone.


In other duck fucking news (I have two whole things to say about that phrase in one day! That's weird), a long time ago I used that phrase on Facebook and people clicked Like a bunch of times and then my friend Lola said "I fooked a dook and I liked it." And so now that phrase makes me sing that Katy Perry song with those words plugged in pretty much every time. And now you will too. You're welcome, America!

In other news, can you all tell me how to properly fold a burrito? Nordic Boy and I have totally different techniques and he claims that mine looks like I am diapering something. I don't want to diaper my burritos! I feel like I need to break up with that technique, immediamente.

I shall stop talking that nonsense now and talk a different sort of nonsense. Consumables ahoy!

Movies!
Harry Potter 7.2
Unabashed LOVED IT. So many things about it to love- I'm not even going to get into it. If you are a fan, you know why it rocks, and if you aren't, my explaining the levels isn't going to make you care. I think we're going to see it in the theater again this weekend. I know- my geekometer just blew up.
So much so that I actually think this trailer that recuts HP as if it was a romcom is adorbs.



A Murder of Crows
Our house, like pretty much everyone's is surrounded by crows. I, unlike most people it seems, like them. I think they are beautiful. Yes, yes, they are a scourge, I know. But really, who are we to talk? We are so the scourgiest. Anyway, this documentary about crows was supah cool. So many interesting things about them, not the least of which is that if you cross one, they will remember your face for literally years. And talk shit about you to their friends.



Modern Views: A documentary on Northwest Architecture
Got 45 minutes to watch something about sweet midcentury Northwest architecture? I do. Delish.

Seattle Channel Video can be played in Flash Player 9 and up

Books!
Decoded, by Jay-Z
Beautifully designed book that features essays by Jay-Z on the context and history of hip hop from not every angle, but a lot of angles: political, artistic, historical, cultural. I bought a lot of his arguments, and didn't buy others. I think fans of Jay-Z would love this, as well as anyone engaged with hip hop culture. Much of the book focuses on close reads and break downs of Jay-Z lyrics.

Other stuff!
Hunger Games movie publicity
Are we concerned about this movie? I am concerned about this movie. I mean, come on. Look at the cover of Entertainment Weekly. Peeta looks like he is a bully from the Karate Kid movies. It just don't seem right, people.

I am going into my weekend with the blind and unfounded faith that it will be glorious weather and I shall frolic outside with abandon the entire next 48 hours. What? It could happen.

Happy Friday, all.

Passion Pit: Moth's Wings

Loopy Thursday

Things I have done this week to show how classy I really am:


1. Asked a friend to do something and then forgotten to respond when they said yes.

2. Worn a shirt that could only be described as Mrs. Roper-esque to a Board meeting.

3. Accidentally broke an unpeeled banana in half and gotten moist banana all over my notes at work.

4. Walked to my favorite cafe to get a cup of tea, walked back to work, got back to my desk and realized my wallet, phone and badge were no longer in my hand. I walked all the way back to the cafe and then realized that I could not have left my stuff there because I had succcessfully gotten back to my office, which I would need my security badge to do. I figured this out because I AM SHERLOCK HOLMES, YOU GUYS. I went back and found it all, right on my coworker's desk.

5. Double booked my weekend and then had to cancel on someone because of it.

6. Tried a new recipe (sauteed kale, potato, tomato and garlic hash) and made tator tots to go with them, not realizing until it was on the plate that I had two potato sides going at the same time for dinner.

On the upside, there was a lady at my bus stop wearing highwater white jeans, a purple men's button up shirt, and flourescent green tie, busting a serious move while this blasted out of her earphones. To which I say: YES, honey.

All You Need Is...

On Sunday morning.


Me: Wow, Amy Winehouse died.
Nordic Boy: She did? That's sad.
Me: Totally sad.

On Sunday night.

Nordic Boy: Did you hear that Amy Winehouse died?
Me: Yeah.
Nordic Boy: I just heard that today...somewhere. Someone told me. I can't remember.
Me: Sad.
Nordic Boy: Wait. I pretty much didn't talk to anyone but you today. Was it you who told me?
Me: Yep.
Nordic Boy: And you weren't going to point that out?
Me: Nah.
Nordic Boy: That's love right there.
Me: Or laziness.
Nordic Boy: The two keys to a successful relationship.

Consumables #45

Hello my lovelies!

 

I am feeling like a have a modicum of pep back in my step today. Not a bushel, just a modicum. (I just felt like mixing up some unit-of-measurement talk there, because I'm ker-azy sometimes). Perhaps this is because the sun came out today and I got to eat lunch on a rooftop terrace without my sweater. Actually not perhaps. It's totally because of that. I really am very easy to please sometimes.

 

Here's the week's roundup!

 

Books!

 

The Knife of Never Letting Go, by Patrick Ness

More dystopic fiction? How much more could there possibly be? When will people get sick of it? Yes, there's lots more, and people (at least me) are still licking it up. This one takes place in a world where people have caught a virus that causes them to be able to hear each other's thoughts, all the time. How can you keep secrets in a world like this? How can you lie? Turns out, you can do both of those things. Some of the reviews of this one say that it's a bit meandering in the middle, but I didn't mind that at all. Other reviews talk about how there is interesting gender stuff going on, which drives me a little batty because I want to know what kind of gender stuff? And what was so interesting about it? But now that I have read it I am also going to tell you that there's interesting gender stuff going on, but I can't tell you what because that would kind of ruin it for you if you haven't read it yet. So ha ha, the annoyed becomes the annoyer!

 

Ranger's Apprentice, Book One: The Ruins of Gorlan, by John Flanigan

I'm going to tell you a little something about my tastes. If you name a book or a movie with some Lord-of-the-Rings-meets-Rennaisance-Faire made up proper noun? I will not want to read it. I don't know why that is. "The Two Towers": okey dokey, no problem. But the Ruins of Gorlan? Ugh. GORLAN? There is nothing compelling to me about that, no matter how exciting the rest of the title is. I don't care if it's The Monster Bees of Limbus, where- no doy- I am going to want to read about Monster Bees, come on! But Limbus? I don't care if they are "of Limbus." (I just made up The Monster Bees of Limbus, so don't go looking for it in your library catalog because it sounds so awesome). For a long time, I thought to myself that I would probably like the Ranger's Apprentice series. I like rangers. I like apprentices. It's adventurey. But that Gorlan stuff just turned me right off. I finally picked it up, and I totally dug the story. So, lesson learned. The next time I see something that looks good except for the fact that it's called the Siege of Dinglegrad, I shall remember to give it a chance.

 

Movies!

 

The Real Dirt on Farmer John

Documentary about the American farm that isn't depressing. SAY WHAT? I know! The Peterson family has been farming in Illinois for generations. This documentary follows their story from traditional family farm through hard times and redemption. It's realistic but hopeful, and will make you feel super, super good about that CSA box you order every week.

 

Labyrinth

This is why I still go to my local indie video store. Because I can walk past a shelf, spur of the moment, and go OMG, I have to SEE THAT. This one especially had to be seen because Nordic Boy had never seen it before. Can you even believe that shit? Who am I sharing my life with, I ask you? How could anyone not have seen David Bowie in his Mad Max wig, playing with those silver balls the whole movie in a not at all metaphorically sexual way? "You shall love me, young lady. I shall hypnotize you with my shiny, shiny balls!" That's just good stuff, people.

 

TV!

 

Roseanne's Nuts

I love the old Roseanne show. It's one of those staple shows that I can watch here and there whenever I run across it on tv, no matter how many times I have seen it before. So, I gave her new reality show a try this week. I still sort of love her, even though the show isn't much.

Other stuff!

 

Google+

Do we care about Google+? I am trying it, but I don't know if I care about it yet. How about Spotify? Do we care about that one? I haven't gotten an invite for that yet, so if you've got one, send it my way. I'll give it a whirl.

Have a great weekend, everyone!

Speaking of

Have you ever noticed that in movies or tv shows, whenever there is a little boy who is orphaned or has run away and been found or something, the people who have found him tend to refer to him as "The Boy" throughout the whole thing, even when they know perfectly well what the character's name is? "I'm very worried about The Boy. He's in shock after what happened, and he doesn't seem to be coming out of it." What is up with that? "Bring The Boy in. We have to ask him what he knows." No one talks like that, do they? Movies. They so crazy.


Speaking of the The Boy, I am seeing the new movie out (perhaps you have heard of it) this weekend about The Boy Who Lived, otherwise known as Harry PAW-TAH and I am SO GEEKY EXCITED ABOUT IT. I always say "Harry Potter" like that in my mind, because whenever anyone meets Harry Potter in the movies, that is how they greet him. They don't say hello, or wow, you're that crazy scar-head kid, they say "HARRY PAW-TAH!" It's sort of like shouting "Norm!" in Cheers. I think we should all decide to shout out people's names when we meet them. Maybe that's just how they do in England?

Speaking of England, we were driving downtown the other day, and we saw this dude driving a Segue down the street. When we saw him, Nordic Boy said, in a hoity-toity voice: "Hello, Chauncey!"

Me: Why did you just call that guy Chauncey in that voice?
Him: I don't know. People who ride Segues seem old-timey English.
Me: They do?
Him: Yes. Like, wouldn't he look perfect if he had on a butler outfit right now? With a top hat?
Me: Actually, now that you mention it, um, TOTALLY.

Next time you see someone on a Segue, just picture that for me, won't you?

Speaking of Nordic Boy's great ideas, I demonstrated one of his made-up dances (called "The Level") to my coworkers the other day (because yes, I bust out dance moves at work, SO WHAT) and my one co-worker took it to the Vancouver Folk Music Festival with her friends and got tons of people doing it. His genius is not only sweeping the nation, but it's international, baby. You've got yer Chubby Checker, you've got yer Soldja Boy, and then there's Nordic Boy.

Laters, people.

Edited to add: I realized after I published this that it's Segway, not Segue. I also realized that that is probably not the way you spell Soldja Boy, but I can't be bothered to look it up.

IDK. CINN?

You guys, I think the inevitable has happened. I have RUN OUT OF WORDS.


Actually, I take that back. I can boil my existence down to two sentences. One: I don't know. And two: Can I nap now?

I am at a place where I don't know seems to cover any and all situations in my life. This is unfortunate since my job is mostly, you know, answering questions for people. A case of the I-don't-knows is sort of not ok, so I am managing to pull out some non-I-don't-know stuff during business hours, but then after that? I don't motherfucking know, ALRIGHT?

Evidence: Nordic Boy was putting in baseboards in our guest room and we were in the lumber store and he was asking me which type of baseboard I wanted and I was all I-don't-know, just pick one. If you knew me but at all you would realize that any sort of aesthetic choice about anything is met with complete and utter decisiveness from me so an I-don't-know on a baseboard style? Proves that my world is off its axis.

My other phrase: can I nap now? is actually something that I have not said aloud but is on repeat over and over in my mind as I go through my day. I have a serious, SERIOUS jones for a nap. At all times. I have become nap-obsessed. Why? Have I been lacking in sleep? Nope. Have I been doing things that would make one over-tired? Nope. So what is up? I don't know. But can I nap now?

Maybe I do know a little. I think the way I deal with stress is to become completely dumb on every topic (I-don't-know-itis) and to go to sleep. Ever since that goddamn friendcut post, it has been one stressful thing after another in me-ville. Various people in my life acting a fool, followed up by family health drama, and then...actually that's about it. But that's enough. Those two general topics cover a lot of ground, actually. Why are people choosing to act a fool now, I ask you? All at once? When I have bigger fish to fry with trying to keep up with family health drama?

I don't know. Can I nap now?

See, it really does work in almost any situation.

I was talking to my mom on the phone the other day, and she was noticing how tired I sounded, and you know what she said to me? "You really should avoid stress." Did I mention that she was calling me from the Emergency Room? With not-great news? You really should avoid stress. Mom, I love you, but have you realized that many of the times, you and I are often standing in a shitstorm together? How can any of us in this here family avoid stress?

She probably doesn't know. And she could most definitely use a nap I am sure.

In other news, this crap few weeks has not limited my ability to giggle about stupid stuff, because that is just who I am. For instance, Nordic Boy came up with this idea that old people who usually eat dinner Early Bird Special style might also like to have a happy hour. Only problem is that if they are eating dinner at 4 pm, they will most definitely miss regular Happy Hour. So why not have their own, from like 2pm-4pm? We would call it "Pappy Hour."

Cracked me up, that one.

Ok, so maybe I have not run out of words. But still. I don't know. Can I nap now?

Oh Weekend Where Art Thou

Rattling around in my brain today...


I had dinner with Biogirl and HM, and it was one of those fancy places where they only bring you the bread after you have ordered. It's times like that when I miss the motherloving Olive Garden where it is a nonstop breadstick train as soon as you sit down. Choo choo!

I complained about this to Nordic Boy, which got us into a conversation about restaurants that we thought were way fancy when we were growing up. For instance, I thought Pizza Hut was completely out of reach. Also, when a friend had a birthday and we wanted to save up and splurge on a dinner, it was Olive Garden all the way. The fanciest, by far? Red Lobster, baby. My parents took me there the night I graduated from high school, because it was THAT special.

Met up with a friend of a friend who just moved here from Michigan. Welcome wagon! I adore meeting awesome people, and this one was top shelf.

Nordic Boy and I went for a walk, and we saw this dude riding his bike around the neighborhood, yelling at the top of his voice about some band playing at some nearby venue later that night. He was kicking it town-crier style! I was sort of digging that.

We also went to Radio Shack twice. TWICE. Once to buy something, and once to return something. When we returned our something, they seriously interrogated us, you guys. They apparently needed our phone number and address, and email, and wanted us to take a survey. All because we bought a wrong cord. I want to make a joke about Radio Shack, but I feel like that would be hackneyed, somehow. It's like making a joke about losing a sock in the dryer.

Ha ha, look at me, thinking that I have big enough britches to avoid hackery. Hack is WHACK, yo.

That's all I got.

Consumables #44

Consumables! Thar she blows!


Books!

Bossypants, by Tina Fey
Tina Fey is totally funny and smart in her book! And she can write well too! What a freaking shock, right? Jeez, way to be so predictable, Tina. Seriously it was super good. The only thing slightly eensy bit negative I can say about it is that she kind of needs to lay off on the self deprecation. Maybe in the entertainment industry she is considered not super attractive, but come on. That lady is gorgeous. And skinny. And hot. I realize it's funnier to talk about how hideous one is, but stop it Tina. Because that makes me nuts.

The Secret Science Alliance, by Eleanor Davis
Cutey cute cute graphic novel for kids about a crime-fighting nerd brigade. I loved how of the three nerds, one of them is out and proud with her nerdiness, while the other two are a tough kid and a jock who hide their nerd ways in a sort of secret agent way.

The Composer Is Dead, by Lemony Snicket
Only Lemony Snicket could get away with starting out a picture book with the words: "Composer is a word which here means 'a person who sits in a room, muttering and humming and figuring out what notes the orchestra is going to play.' This is called composing. But last night the Composer was not muttering. He was not humming. He was not moving, or even breathing. This is called decomposing."

Movies!

I Think We're Alone Now
This was a weird documentary about two obessive fans of the 80s singer Tiffany. Simultaneously really really creepy and yet still sort of sympathetic. I don't really know what to make of it. I just felt unsettled after watching it.

Teevees!

The Walking Dead: Season One
Zombies! Survival! Right up my alley, right? Well, maybe. I wanted so much more out of it. More development of the zombie idea, more back story, more everything. Maybe that is still coming up.

That's it, homies. Have a good weekend! Think sun.



And Run, by He is We

Getting Better All the Time

My life lately! Ahem.

1. I have a seriously elderly laptop. It was bought in 2004, which means that it really should be in some sort of hospice care right about now. The battery drops out of it completely if I carry it anywhere, which thankfully I don't have to do because it won't work on its own battery power anymore. It has to stay plugged in and even then it groans at me when I use it, which I try not to do, ever. Nordic Boy's iPad laughs at it, I am pretty sure. Rude ass bastard. I also have an old iPhone. (And SWEET JESUS can this post be any more bourgie hipster? I don't think so). Sometimes the ipod on it just refuses to play. The other day I was syncing the two, and they talked to each other, rebelled, and bam! All of my music disappeared from my phone, and then the sync was over, never to return. The two are On a Break from each other, which I fear is the precursor to We Are Broken, which will lead to me having no music and that means I will have a Psychic Break. I need new compooter stuff, you guys. But, to quote Nelly Furtado, I'm like a bird. Cheap. No retiring for you, gadgets! You will work until you DIE. If this were the Twilight Zone, I am pretty sure the next thing that would happen is that they would come to life and kill me somehow.

2. I went to my first ever baseball game last weekend. I am not anti-sports by any means but somehow they have just not played a huge role in my life. These are the things that fascinated me about my first ever baseball game. The knickers. It was "Turn Back the Clock" night and so the players wore their old school knickers. I think they need to bring those back on the regular. Who is carrying the knickers torch in 2011? No one! I think it's up to the baseball dudes. Also, any baseball fan that ever complained to me about soccer being "too boring" needs to re-evaluate that statement. You are allowed to love baseball and not love soccer at the same time, but the too boring criteria is no longer acceptable to me. Third, I enjoyed the game, but I think that baseball needs more bling. It's basically just the game, and a 7th inning stretch song in terms of entertainment value. I vote for dancers or cheerleaders, and some sort of mid-game show. Fourth, the stadium food I ate was straight up FOUL. I am not a choosy eater and will eat what I am given most often, but I couldn't eat that shit, people. They put fuckall in that food and charged me three million dollars for it! The nerve. My favorite things about baseball: being outside on a beautiful night with my friends. Also, they played a Michael Jackson song and put a 10-year-old kid on the jumbotron who was rocking the MJ dancing hardcore. This is what I need: sun, friends, and MichaelJackstyle.

3. Sun! It has been so sunny and nice I have wanted to make out with everyone. Be afraid.

4. I went to a 4th of July party where my one friend S (S stands for smartypants) had the rest of us play this game that was full of strategery. I don't want to insult my friends who are also smart, but we SUCKED at this game. So hard that I think S pretty much thought that we had all suffered a simultaneous brain injury. I made a delightful statement at the beginning of this whole episode when the rules were being explained. I shouted out in horror: "OH NO. Is this a THINKING GAME?" My parents would be so proud.

5. Walked to fireworks with my friends. I am not usually a fan of crowds, but the 4th of July is an exception. I love that my whole city spills out of their houses and packs the streets and looks up in the sky together. There's something poetic about it.

6. After the friendcut heartbreak of 2011 (which was closely followed by some other dysfunctional nonsense on top of it all, so double-whammy on the feeling blue), I felt like this week the universe was trying to tell me that I was still loved. That is, if I believed that the universe really has time to focus on making me feel better, which I don't. But it felt like that was what was happening, so I soaked it in. Along with the sun, which I believe I mentioned makes me so happy that I want to make out with all. Pucker up.

Consumables #43

Ok, I declare this week OVAH. Finito! Kaput! And good freaking riddance. People ain't been treating me right lately, you guys. Why that is, I do not get. Because in case you haven't noticed? I is awesome. Super for rill awesome. Perhaps you just aren't ready for this jelly? Still. Ima bring this jelly. Because as I mentioned, I am awesome. And you are lucky to know me.


I just had to have a Stuart Smalley moment with myself there. I beg your pardon. I'm done with that now.

On to things pop and cultural in my life this week!

The Answer Man
I will totally watch anything with Lorelei Gilmore in it, because I love Lorelei Gilmore. This was your typical asshole-meets-nice-lady story. You know the one. Horrible man is going through life being horrible. Then the jagoff meets a nice lady. The nice lady makes him want to be a better man, and he never quite becomes a better man (meaning he is still pretty much a jagoff), but unconditional angelic lady loves him anyway. This is supposed to be heartwarming. Did Woody Allen start this oeuvre in movies? I feel like Jack Nicholson was passed the torch there for a while (being an ass to Diane Keaton and then to Helen Hunt, remember that?). Anyway, Lorelei (Lauren Graham) is the nice lady in this one. So hey ladies! If a dude is an asshole, you can totally just be nice and then he will go from being a 100% ass to you, to maybe an 90% ass to you. That is all your saintly behavior deserves. Aw, so romantical.

God Grew Tired of Us
Documentary that follows some of the Lost Boys of Sudan as they transition from life in a refugee camp in Kenya to the United States.

Confessions of a Superhero
I don't know what it is, but I am fascinated with documentaries about people who are living their lives in pursuit of being famous, and who are living in this sort of purgatory where it isn't happening, but they just keep believing in it. This one is about 4 aspiring actors who make ends meet by dressing up as superheroes to make money by standing on Hollywood Boulevard and taking photos with tourists and asking for tips.

Camp Hollywood
This one is about a famous decrepit Hollywood hotel called Highland Gardens, where aspiring actors come to stay when they arrive in town. Supposedly Brad Pitt had a stint here, and the actor who played Mozart's father in Amadeus has lived there with his wife for a long time and still does. Other than that, it's full of young actors who go on auditions obsessively and dream super big. Why is this interesting? It just is.

I have been too busy hibernating to read books this week, so there you go. Bad librarian.

On to the weekend! Yippee! Let's dance it out.