Saturday, June 26, 2010

Caution: Open Windows

Andrew and I ended up at Gordon Biersch for dinner tonight. We got
seated up front, by the windows, and I was feeling pretty good about
that because I'm not dressed in my finest clothes.

I went to put my purse on the windowsill, and, as it started to fall
out the window, I realized that there was only sill and no window.
Clearly, given where we were seated and my diminished capacity, this
is officially declared a Pretty Day.

If it had just been us, I might not have cared, but the excited
utterance ("oh! There's no window here!") alerted the waitress to my
incredible powers of observation.

(PS, we highly recommend the seasonal beer, but beware of open
windows.)

Friday, June 25, 2010

Recipe for crazy

Ingredients:

1 - crazed knitter
5 - balls of yarn, earmarked for One Specific Pattern
8546884270053 - patterns to sift through, one by one.
Knowledge that the crazed knitter has bought this pattern, not once, but twice.

Yes, I *have* ordered it, again. This time, I will scan it. My hard drive is simpler to navigate than the anthropological excavations I did tonight.

Futility, thy name is Knitting.

Wednesday, June 23, 2010

Ready for my close up

Did anyone else catch Catherine Zeta-Jones' performance from "A Little Night Music" on the Tony Awards? Granted, I didn't get to watch it until earlier this week (yay, DVR!!!). When I did, I found her performance (to say the least) distressing.

First, let's start with her Norma Desmond-esque nose flares and patented Crazy Eyes. She even had it on the red carpet. See:



Practically twins. I wish that was the most upsetting part of her performance, but alas, CZ-J continued to butcher Sondheim like she was preparing his work for a dish in Sweeney Todd. The abuse of dramatic seizura was particularly Shatner-esque, but lacked the charm that he had as he originated the. Dramatic. Pause. (See? Not cute.)

On top of that, she was twitching like an epileptic chihuahua throughout the song. Initially, I had hoped that she was searching for a camera to sing to, but when she closed her eyes and continued to flail, I lost hope. If I was a doctor, I would have been reaching for the phenobarbitol. I'm not a doctor, nor do I play one on TV, so sorry Catherine- you'll have to hit up your HMO.

What *killed* me is that, time after time, "famous" actors (from TV and film) took home the Tony Awards over the folks who - in my opinion - had actually earned their nomination, rather than their big names. I understand that big names draw crowds to the theater, and without seats being filled, theater will die.

Do I blame the American Theater Wing? You betcha. Sure, nominate the famous people, but when Denzel Washington couldn't remember *who* was giving him the award, I was agog. I'm sure he was brilliant in "Fences", but really? Denzel isn't winning any Emily Post awards, that's for sure.

In case you haven't seen it yet, and are in the mood to writhe on the floor screaming "STOP!", and wishing that someone *would* send in the clowns to haul her offstage, here you go, but don't say I didn't warn you:


Monday, June 21, 2010

It's no secret

As a by-product of being sick and having fun, I found myself voiceless this morning. I swung by the closing sale at Commuknity, and ran into quite a few old and familiar faces.

The funny thing is, when you whisper, people whisper back.

It felt a little wierd, like I was gossiping or telling secrets. Nope, just lost my voice.

If you find it, please send it home.