June 12, 2007
UPDATE: Stamens of Crocuses
OK, you probably don't want to read the last entry I posted anyway. It is whiny. Criminally whiny, ha (this only makes sense if you read the last entry)!
Anyhoo, all I will say is that IT ALL BECOMES CLEAR NOW.
Did you know that saffron is the product of the stamen (male sex organ) of crocuses?
No? Neither did I until watching Barefoot Contessa's LA Story episode (p.s., one of my favorite movies ever is L.A. Story, and it's probably 50% of the reason I moved here, the other 25% being Jean Baudrillard's America, which captured L.A. as the quintessential hyperreality, and the other 25% being I found a job here in the middle of the dot-com bomb, while my boyfriend at the time did NOT. EVER., hope he is not not reading this).
Anyway, the point is:
IT ALL BECOMES CLEAR NOW.
The Marcel/Ilan Top Chef Season 2 rib-jabbing over saffron?
Arguments over male organs. Of Crocuses. Of Course.
IT ALL BECOMES CLEAR NOW.
Posted by jen at 12:33 AM | Comments (2)
May 25, 2007
Brand. Ed a Madwoman.
Recently Laurie posted various product recommendations. She followed up with a disclaimer that beauty product recommendations best be tried at places with no-questions-asked return policies. My immediate reaction? HAHAHA. I have totally made her A LAWYER, adding disclaimers to crap, avoiding liability! HAHAHA. I'm sure she will hate that, as she has no love for lawyers, save me.
p.s. When I tried to paste in the link to Laurie just now, I pasted in "Prior restraints on the freedom of speech require a showing of special societal harm." Leftover CTRL+X from a practice test. That I failed. F--king bar prep. I CANNOT ESCAPE YOU.
Anyway, the first week of studying for the bar has not been fun. I called my doctor dad yesterday to ask if I was dying because my legs were so swollen. He told me no, it was just because I was sitting down for 10 hours a day. I'm sure this will do nothing but enhance my reputation as the family hypochondriac, but whatever. At least I wasn't calling him to tell him that a 2-inch quadrangle on my lower left shin seemed numb. Like last month. Jeebus. I swear, I am a GROWN WOMAN (not too grown, 5'2", but the SundayUndies family bones fuse early), but you wouldn't know it.
Also, quick aside, related to bones, as part of my undergrad anthro major I took Osteology, which required that I be able to side bones. I got the only B of my college career because my severe challenges in spacial relations prevented me from ascertaining WHICH DAMN SIDE, left or right, a bone fragment belonged to. No degree of squinting and/or contortionism to position fragments along my own body -- despite my classmates' extreme amusement -- helped. Nonetheless, to this day, I LOVE to point out your occipital, frontal and parietal protuberances. It brings me no small amount of joy.
Your zygomatic arch is not the point of this story, however. I was going to talk about Brand. Brand loyalty.
I am a sucker for brands, once they work for me. It's shaming, this lemming loyalty, but Martha Stewart, whatever you will say about her, has never once failed me. My new paint job? Martha at Lowe's. My favorite magazines? Martha and mini-me Martha, Blueprint. My Mac 'n Cheese will always be Martha's, especially after it staved off my sister from suicide after the 2004 elections. And I can't tell you how many products I have purchased after seeing them in her magazines or shows -- she rarely attaches her name to anything not of quality.
There are a few other brands that I hold dear.
Anything by method. Not petroleum-based, unobtrusive packaging, available at Target. The Trifecta of Awesome.
Chronicle Books. Has never done me wrong, bringing me the Bad Girl's guides, Stuff on My Cat, and the Stich-It Kit, which I will, after the bar is over, complete.
Any alcoholic beverage produced by Francis Ford Coppola. Just last entry, I professed my love for his line. His wines are not always amazing but often are, and are ALWAYS reliable to bring to parties. Not to mention, HELLO!, champagne in cans, the perfect accompaniment to a picnic.
BarKeeper's Friend. Dude, it cleans my bathtub, my silver (two candlesticks from my mother + one pair earrings = total acquisition of silver to date, I AM SO POSH), my stainless steel sink and pans, my stovetop, EVERYTHING! Delicate yet firm, much like tuna.
Anything from the Alterna Hemp line -- for you wavy/curly-haired maidens like me: the texturizing glaze, volumizing spray-in conditioner, and spray shine.
Also, OK this next one is not a brand per se. Much like there are only certain types of slander per se. Did you know that? No? Me neither! This is why I created my own mnemonic device to remember slander per se's varietals:
Business or professional experience
STDs and leprosy
Moral turpitude crimes, AND
Fornication by a lady)!
Suck it!
What do you think? No one can fail the bar with a mnemonic device like that, right? The "suck it" is not exactly part of the device, I just add it for emphasis. BS, MoFo, suck it!! Can you tell I hate studying for the bar?
Anyway, I'm not familiar enough to love Orly as a per se rule, but have NEVER EVER EVER received more compliments on my toe color than I have with my current shade -- Passion Fruit, part of Orly's Hot Neons collection.
Men, women, children, my cats (I can tell, really!), they love it. I would include a pic of what it looks like on my toes, but as I mentioned above, all this sitting has my legs looking like I'm suffering from a mild case of elephantitis, so I'd rather not share a pic of the sausage casings that pass for my toes nowadays.
And oh, what the hell, a couple more:
- Rough Guides
- Touchstone Pictures, 1986-1991
So that's it! My brands, my loyalty to them, my descent into madness. Courtesy of the California bar. BS, Mofo! Suck it!
p.s. I continue to accidentally delete comments in trying to delete comment spam, I'm sorry. After the bar (my mantram now, apparently), I am going to upgrade and eliminate this problem. I am also going to drink a lot. And go to South America for a month. But that is neither here nor there.
Posted by jen at 10:47 PM | Comments (12)
March 02, 2007
Pillow Talk
[SCENE: The Boy and me in bed, heading toward the land of Nod after a quiet Thursday night of (apparently too much) TV.]
The Boy [rolls over toward me]: Nausea.
Me: What?
The Boy: Nausea. That's what was missing.
Me: ...
The Boy: From the Pepto Bismol commercial. [singing] Nausea, heart burn, indigestion...
Me: [singing along] Upset stomach, diarrhea.
[END SCENE]
Almost makes you wish you had a stomach ache -- or at least wish that advertisers were banned from making catchy jingles about bodily ailments. If you too would like to have the PeptoMax theme stuck in your head for 24 hours, check it out.
Posted by jen at 11:52 AM | Comments (7)
February 26, 2007
I Would Like To Thank
(in no particular order):
- My accountant Danny, for saving my student ass from destitution and credit card debt for three years running (e-mail me if you are in LA area and in need of accountant -- he rocks!).
- Chowhound for its restaurant recommendations, which 1) saved me by finding a reasonably priced yet chic brunch location that I was not embarrassed to take The Boy's sister to when I met her for the very first time a couple weekends ago and 2) introduced me to The Very Best Dumplings Ever. Although, small quibble, dumpling-makers of the world: Um, could you invent some that don't leave me with dragon's breath burps for 24 hours following consumption? Thanks.
- The Boy, for generally rocking my world every day and also giving me, on a not infrequent basis, the best feeling ever: contentment.
- My friend Tiffany, who took me as her guest to the Netflix bleachers at the IFC Indpendent Spirit Awards, where I primarily took pics of the backs of celebrities' heads, but got to be in close proximity of:
The one, the only, NPH:
Ryan Gosling. Oh, HELLO. He's the HOT one in sunglasses too far away to touch. Note the girl to the left in front of me with her DVD copy of The Notebook ready to sign. She was like 17, with braces, and turned into a googly-eyed mess after he signed it and took a picture with her.
Here is another picture of Ryan, just, you know, cuz.
Zach Braff, whose Scrubs facial expressions are now an unconscious tic:
Also, EWWW, this is the top of Dennis Hopper's head and IS HE DATING (again EWW) Top Design judge Margeret Russell?? She is so mean (although I did have to agree with her that Ryan's ass should be grass at this point -- I'm sorry; he built his client a JAIL CELL covered in psychedelic circles for the last challenge). But I am not crazy, right, that is her in that white dress, right??
So. Wrong.
Luckily, this abomination in couplehood was countered by my two favorite Hollywood couples ever, Maggie & Peter and Heath & Michelle. Sadly, they moved too quickly for my lens.
And to tell you the truth, I felt a little ridiculous assuming the role of a papparazzo by the end of the day: I was exhausted, sunburned, and ready to nip into the Grey Goose sample we received in our gift bags.
Thank goodness for that.
Posted by jen at 11:40 AM | Comments (5)
December 08, 2006
A Great Loss to our Generation
No, not Jeane J. Kirkpatrick.
Wesley Snipes has been arrested for tax fraud.
He is, as he will tell you, the greatest actor of our generation. Him and Johnny Depp.
I hope they let him out of the Big House in time to make Blade IV.
Posted by jen at 09:41 AM | Comments (3)
October 17, 2006
Leggings: Only for Lemmings?
Are they empirically ugly? Universally unflattering? Or a cute new trend I should try when I go fall clothes shopping tomorrow?
Posted by jen at 02:22 PM | Comments (17)
October 09, 2006
These Are My Confessions
Me (on phone): Laurie, I am DYING. DYING. It has taken me FORTY MINUTES to go three blocks. My hand hurts from hitting the steering wheel in frustration.
Laurie: Whoa. Let me read you a little Trent.
Me: I am supposed to be Hollywood gossip-free for a week. Do you think it counts if I can't see the pictures?
Laurie (BEST FRIEND EVER): No, totally not. Besides, how can you give up gossip? YOU were the one who made ME start reading it.
Me: I knoooww. I suck. So does this traffic.
Laurie: I love Trent. Now I can never see any baby without picturing a little pink thought bubble, "'Sup, Bitches!" (Begins reading Trent).
And thus, my gossip hiatus was over. Less than 8 hours after I declared it.
Can you believe Paris and Nicole are friends again? They've got nothing on me and Laurie.
Posted by jen at 02:30 PM | Comments (10)
October 05, 2006
Falling Out of the Habit
Photo from Joshua Davis, via Creative Commons
A long time ago Gloria tagged me with a Name Your Four Vices meme. I never responded it because it seemed like an exercise in self-esteem demolition. Procrastination, unadulterated navel gazing, gossip, boozin'? Yes!
I've made some good changes over the last year -- reintroduced green things into my life, started running and cut down on my shopping. But there are still lots of things I need to do better.
I know resolutions are typically something you do for New Year's, but fall feels like the real Beginning of the Year to me. You should be buying school supplies and your first day of school outfit.
Anyway, inspired by Martha's Going Green tips (I watched because Tracey Ullman was on, knitting!), and also because I drive the boyfriend nuts with this behavior, I'm going to start TURNING OFF THE DAMN LIGHTS. I don't know how, considering my dad chased us around the house grumbling ("What, you think I am made of money? Electricity is not free. Goddamn cats." (the cat comment would have had nothing to do with us kids' failure to conserve our natural resources but would have been spurred with the sight of one of them, for whom my dad claimed hatred; however, Snuggles, Fraidy, Tickles, Bag of Bones, Bobo and Frodo could all offer plenty of petting and lap-snuggling in evidence to rebut, snap!)) and sending us back into rooms to turn lights off my whole life, but somehow I lost the ability to turn the light off when I leave a room.
It's gone, much like high school French.
So that's one resolution.
The other one (there are only two, baby steps!) is just a trial resolution. I'm not sure I'm ready to commit.
I am going to try, for one week, to stop reading any celebrity gossip. Just for a week! Just to see if I miss it. Mainly it was seeing this video that did it:
I am ruining Kate Hudson's &@#*$%^ workout, dude! Or you know, the paparazzi are because I'll look at stupid pictures of her running.
And I know, it's the price she pays for what she does, and she has no right to complain given that those pictures advance her career, and whatnot. But I felt bad. And besides, who knows what else I might fill my brain with if I'm not spending a half-hour a day staring at Paris' crotch or wondering if Mischa's wrist is really hurt or she's just copying Lindsay?
We'll see. If I miss it after a week, I'll head back to my favorite sites.
And if I don't? Who knows what I'll be doing with those free brain cells. Probably not much. I still haven't kicked that unadulterated navel gazing habit.
Posted by jen at 09:55 AM | Comments (3)
September 25, 2006
It's Together, through TV, that We Prevail!
Oh, premiere of The Office. So good and YET, I KNOW NOTHING! NOTHING! of what happened with Jim and Pam. OK, I know something but in case you, like me, have recently experienced the joy a DVR brings, I won't share.
I watched the first episode with Gwen, her affianced Afsheen and lovely Penny. And how cool are Gwen and Afsheen? THIS IS HOW COOL:
Tonight? Fred and I are drinking a glass of wine from a Dunder-Mifflin mug. Much like I suspect Meredith does everyday in The Office. Only hers is vodka. And probably the cheap stuff.
Watching new TV shows makes me feel like part of the world. Which I know is cheesy, but I like to feel connected to the Important Issues of The Day. Which certainly I couldn't get by reading the 6 issues of The Economist staring balefully at me in a pile on my side table, could I? No, I get it from TeeVee.
p.s. I watched an Idi Amin documentary this weekend, so stop thinking I suck.
This connection I need to feel is why, even when I OWN a movie, I'll sometimes watch it, with commercials, on TV. Then I know other people are watching it in the world, communing with me in my laughter and sobs. Ridiculous. Yet typical!
I don't feel as bad about this impulse recently because I've been thinking about solidarity a lot. The kind of solidarity required to support welfare programs and to give immigrants the political rights necessary to fully participate in the American Community. If there is one.
Anyway, I won't say anything more about that except that apparently my misguided way of finding solidarity right now is to read the NY Times every day and to watch the new fall season. And that when you first start seeing someone, your friends remind you (in a loving way) how important it is to maintain your connections with the world, and with them. Losing touch is bad.
So I am solidarity with you, friends, comrades!
Posted by jen at 09:56 PM | Comments (9)
February 21, 2006
You Wanna Tussle?
OK, I love Patrick "Dr. McDreamy" as much as the next heterosexual female with a pulse. Loved him since Can't Buy Me Love and his adorable African anteater ritual dance.
But you know who else is slowly overtaking him in the Grey's Anatomy race for my heart? No, not Dr. McSteamy, even though HE IS HOT and I hope he and Addison have a nice life together. Nay. It's Dr. "McFree-me-from-my-panties" Preston Burke. Because you know, if you saw the last episode, HE IS PRESTON BURKE.
And you know what? I saw him today! Apparently Grey's must be filming on campus, and there he was, driving his silver Audi A8 out of the UCLA garage and really, there was one coarse phrase I could use to describe my reaction which may involve some relation to tapioca and undies but I am not that kind of girl (although props to you if you know the phrase of which I speak, you harlot!).
No, all I will say is that yes, Isaiah, yes I wanna tussle with you.
Posted by jen at 11:33 PM | Comments (7)
February 01, 2006
They Had Me at "Make It Work"
I haven't loved a TV show as much as Project Runway since Twin Peaks.
Back then, Kyle MacLachlan had me at, "Damn fine cup of coffee!"
And I bought The Secret Diary of Laura Palmer. And the Twin Peaks Soundtrack (love you Angelo Badalamenti and Julee Cruise). And also these crazy Twin Peaks Tapes of Agent Cooper. And this awesome tight red plaid skirt I paired with a black turtle a la Sherilyn Fenn or maybe Lara FB. Oh yes, I was hooked.
Anyway, the point is I just downloaded the Project Runway ringtone. And I've never had a ringtone in my life! I don't even know what to do with it. But I've got it!
Are you IN or are you OUT?
Posted by jen at 11:53 PM | Comments (13)
October 21, 2005
Shopgirl
I read Shopgirl a few years ago. Mainly because Steve Martin had me at hello. Maybe it was The Jerk, maybe Roxanne, maybe Dirty Rotten Scoundrels. But probably L.A. Story. Anyway, he had me.
And he sealed the deal in Pure Drivel, more specifically, the chapter, "A Word from the Words."
"There's also a nice variety of words in this book, and that always makes it fun. We can hang around with the tough utilitarian words, like the, and have a few beers, or we can wander over and visit the lofty perambulate, who turned out to be a very nice verb with a lovely wife, tutu... I'm lucky. I'm underpants. Sometimes I'm used innocuously, but other times I get to be in very racy sentences in some pretty damn good books."
My reaction to this passage reminds me of Kissing Jessica Stein, the part where Helen used the word "marinate" and Jess was hooked. But in any case, I was. Hooked.
And then came Shopgirl. There, my reaction was that Mr. Martin was vaguely chauvinistic, and also vaguely old (tho not really, still HOTT, Steve! don't you worry!). But still more than vaguely interesting.
So now I am torn. I hate Claire Danes. As much as I loved My So-Called Life? That's as much as I hate her now for stealing Billy Crudup away from Mary-Louise Parker when she was eight months pregnant. Just wrong! WRONG!
But still. There is a line in the Shopgirl previews. "So. I can either hurt now, or hurt later." And really that's what dating is like past the age of 25. And I am curious whether the movie has something interesting to say about my dilemma.
I never saw Mr. & Mrs. Smith on moral grounds. But I am really curious about Shopgirl. Do I forego my moral embargo for some insight? Or is it a fruitless pursuit? What do you think?
Posted by jen at 06:23 PM | Comments (16)
September 17, 2005
Random Celebrity Sightings
The past week has been a flurry of interviews, one big masochistic blur. Twelve interviews in 10 days. Three rejection letters already. (Hey Urs and Jen -- do you like how I wrote out any numbers below 10, as well as 12, which started a sentence? I think of you two every time I make a conscious grammar decision.)
BUT. Since it's totally boring (not to mention depressiing) to tell you about them all, instead I will regale you with tales of (semi-)celebrity sighting here in LA.
So on Wednesday night, Gloria and I headed to Theater of the New Ear, which rocked my socks off. Charlie Kaufman's play within a play within a play.... was exactly what I needed to forget about a day of 20-minute exercises in verbal and aural circumcision.
AND. There was the added bonus of seeing the über-HOTT Josh Charles. I loved him as Knox Overstreet in Dead Poets Society. I loved him more as Bryan in Don't Tell Mom the Babysitter's Dead. And I nearly lost it in every episode of Sports Night.
And there he was, standing nonchalantly outside Royce Hall with a buddy. Gloria hadn't arrived yet, and I was doing a lap around the hall to find her. And there He was. AND I'm pretty sure he checked me out. Really! I swear. We totally made eye contact. And then I had to pretend like I hadn't noticed that one of my high school, college and mid-twenties fantasy icons wasn't STANDING IN LIVING, BREATHING FLESH before me and keep walking. And he had been facing me, but right as I passed he moved perpendicular to me so, ipso facto, he could check out the rear view. I swear! What other explanation could there be for his movements? I mean, he definitely couldn't be making sure a crazed fan wasn't about to try to snap his photo, or wondering if I was really wearing flip-flips (oh. yes. i was.) to THE THEATER. No. The only reasonable explanation is that he was checking me out. Dude! Res ipsa loquitur!
After my Knox Overstreet sighting, it was hard to concentrate on anyone else, even though I am the worst stare-er and eavesdropper ever, except maybe for Gloria, which I think is why we get along so well. But I did manage to spot Helen Hunt's sister in Mad About You, Doogie Howser's girlfriend Wanda, the infamous Randall Batinkoff, and Billy Zane, who was wearing a sharp grey pinstripe suit and is much less grandiose than I imagined, though still much taller than me.
If all this elbow-rubbing with C-listers (except Josh and Billy of course, kisses!) wasn't enough, on Friday, there was Jason Biggs in the Sunset Strip Starbucks parking lot. He was leaving as I arrived, in a dark grey Audi A4, which surprised me. And impressed me if it means that he is more conservative with his money than say, Adrian Grenier, who I was in front of in line once at the Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf at the Beverly Center as he talked really loud to get attention.
So, phew! I know all you non-LA folks are totally blown away by all my sightings of people you vaguely remember! But people, after three rejection letters, my abiltiy to spot people listed 18th down in the credits all I've got to hold onto! A sad, sad, sad state of affairs.
Posted by jen at 03:54 PM | Comments (23)