Thursday, June 30, 2005

Summer movies, how I love thee

I love the summer movie season. Sometimes there are really good, thought-provoking movies. Other times stuff just gets blown up. I do not care, I enjoy them all. Well, the ones I choose to see anyway...let's not get crazy...but I still see quite a few.

So far:
Star Wars III - fun to see all the plots linking up, still with bad dialogue (but then all, yes ALL, six movies have had some cheese-filled lines thrown around)
Mr. and Mrs. Smith - pretty people blowing things up and shooting; good time
Batman Begins - dark with lots of action, good plot; Katie Holmes did not suck like I thought she would

Still want to see:
Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants - yeah go ahead and mock me, I don't care, I read the book and thought it was great; besides my 15-year old inner child needs to get out every now and then too
Madagascar - because I like cartoons, each summer needs at least one cartoon movie
Charlie and the Chocolate Factory - am SOOOO excited about this one, because the original was so much fun, especially when I was little (this was the second favorite movie of childhood, first was Disney's "Robin Hood" - the cartoon with the foxes, etc.)
Wedding Crashers - those guys are hilarious, no way I'm missing that

Just give me one of the above and bag of movie popcorn with lots of fake butter (which I will eat all by myself, thank you very much...try to steal some without asking and you may pull back a nub) and I will be a happy girl.

Wednesday, June 29, 2005

More misheards

In reading an online review a while ago (which I tried to find again, but couldn't), the girl wrote that the Shin's song, "Kissing the Lipless" was really very unusually dark, although it didn't appear to be so at first. This worried me, because I really like that song, and wondered about my subconscious scariness. She cited the line, "And secretly, I want to bury you in the yard..."

But then it turns out the lyrics are in fact:
And secretly, I want to bury in the yard
The grey remains of a friendship scarred
Lines which I certainly prefer as I think they are quite lovely and poetic and not at all psycho-killer in nature.


Another one from a Jenny Jones/Ricki Lake type talk show. Eb and I could not remember for the life of us who actually saw this, so perhaps in the end it was urban legend. But I still think it was her and she just forgot:

A woman in the audience stands up to comment on a show guest and society at large, and says:
"Like my girl Lauryn Hill says, 'How you gonna win when you ain't white and thin? How you gonna win when you ain't WHITE and THIN?'"

Which is probably a fairly valid point she makes. Too bad the actual lyrics are "How you gonna win when you ain't right within?"

Friday, June 24, 2005

Cause Célèbre

I find it interesting that for many of the campaigns for global change - i.e. One or Make Trade Fair - they spend considerable space listing all of the famous people that support the cause. I can't decide whether I like this or not. I don't really have problems with famous (not to mention ridiculously wealthy) people getting behind a cause, I just find it sort of distasteful that the support of a celebrity is necessary to get us "normal" folks involved in something. I mean, shouldn't the cause itself be enough to get our attention? I can't really blame the celebrities for using whatever means they can to support a cause...but then I'm not moved to pray and act for an end to poverty in the developing world because Bono told me to (even though I do think he is awfully dreamy!). Maybe it's a greater commentary on society, I don't really know; that we need the cool people, the hip crowd, to tell us what we should support, what is important to us. Maybe it's just a fine line between creating visibility for a cause and making the cause more about its celebrity supporters than the people they try to help. I certainly don't have any answers...nor am I criticizing the aforementioned websites for their content, it all just strikes me as being a bit odd.

Monday, June 20, 2005

Take me home, to the place I belong...

C was singing a John Denver song that I didn't recognize, but I should have. It was "Country Roads." Why should I have recognized it, you ask? Well, that is a funny story.

When I was in third grade we were allowed to branch out in our musical abilities in my elementary school. Not satisfied with the triangles and rhythm blocks anymore, we were advancing. After putting in our time in first and second grade, we could now do choir, recorders, or both. I did both, but the choir doesn't really factor into this story so much. Now when I say "recorder," no actual recording was going on. It looked like this (except mine was black and white) and my mom always called it a "flutophone" which I guess what they were called in 1961. I was in the recorder choir. John Denver was a popular artist in this crowd - we played both "Country Roads" and "Annie's Song." There was a concert at the end of the year, where 125 nine-year-olds played John Denver songs on recorders for half an hour. This is the real crux of the story - my parents actually came to the concert. Can you even imagine anything more hellish? True evidence of how much they loved me, I think.

Years later my little sister found the recorder and played it non-stop for what seemed like months until it mysteriously disappeared. Love has limits, people, and more than one child with recorder-playing skills might be that limit.

For the love

Why, while I am trying to book a one-way plane ticket, would you offer me the option of booking a one-way ticket and then redirect me to a page that says you don't offer one-way tickets?

I'm looking at YOU,

Saturday, June 18, 2005


Yesterday at lunch following a discussion about summertime, being at the beach, etc:

Me: "I can't even tan though, it's not worth trying."
Friend: "Well I can't either!"
Me: "But you're darker than I am!"
(hold up arms to compare...)
Friend: "Ooo, you're right. We should be best friends so I can be 'the tan one.'"

Thursday, June 16, 2005


As much music as I listen to, it's really quite amazing that I don't screw up the lyrics more often than I do. Today at work, while in a bit of a floor wide mood and looking for Montell Jordan's "This is How We Do It," we found Blackstreet's "No Diggity" on the share drive instead (have I also mentioned that we're known to listen to VH1 karaoke hits on Fridays? 'Cause we are...). This reminded me of an earlier misheard:

Actual lyrics: I like the way you work it, no diggity, I'd like to bag it up...
Guy in college heard: I liked it when you worked here, no diggity... (to which another friend quipped, "Did you think she worked in a grocery store? I like to BAG IT UP?!")

Another one: Chumbawumba, "Tubthumping"
Actual: I get knocked down, but I get up again...
I heard: I can't go down, 'til I get up again (makes no sense, I know, but then neither does the rest of the song anyway)

A so-sentimental-it-makes-you-gag-a-little song: Edwin McCain, "I'll Be"
Actual: I'll be your crying shoulder, I'll be love's suicide
Dear friend who shall remain nameless thought: I'll be your crying shoulder, I'll be love's superstar (the image works better if you do the Mary Catherine Gallagher SUPERSTAR! move while singing along dramatically)

I can't put my all-time favorite on here, otherwise people who run pervy searches on google would find my site and we can't have that. I will tell you it involves The Fugees' "Killing Me Softly" and if you email me, I'll tell you the whole story :).

Tuesday, June 14, 2005

Coldplay: X&Y

I will share my personal thoughts, not offer any sort of critique as to the advancement of their style or the difference between the other albums. Just a heads up.

I really like the new CD. The tunes are great to listen to, especially on headphones when I want to drown out DC. Many of them are related in some way to relationships/love/etc. and my almost teenage enjoyment of this confirms that I have a pretty constant and profound crush on British rock stars. But I digress.

I love a good album that you can just put on and listen to without skipping any tracks. Picking favorites is hard, so I won't do that. But "'Til Kingdom Come" makes me a bit melty. And "A Message" and "What If" are deliciously bittersweet. The chorus on "Fix You" is SO GOOD. I like all the other ones too, but the describing may already be getting a bit trite. So here at my website, we give it a rousing thumb's up, if that's worth anything to you.

Attention, internet users

I would like to make the following announcement for the greater good, general use of the internet, and my personal sanity:

Just because you read something on the internet does not make it true. This includes any emails, whether or not you have received them from people you know or consider to be reliable sources. Especially if they involve some sort of new deadly poisonous insect or gang initiation rituals.

Thank you for your time.

Monday, June 13, 2005

I want a purple hat too...

People tend to gripe about tourists when living in tourist-attracting cities. I think each city has their own special breed - ours tend to wear lots of patriotic t-shirts and fanny packs - but they all have them. I try not to be annoyed by them, even though they do sort of annoying things (like stand on the left side of the escalators where people walk or block entrances to wherever I'm going) because if nothing else, I myself have been a tourist and have certainly done annoying things in other cities. Not to mention the fact that the tourists make for excellent people watching. For instance:

On Sunday when I was coming home from my museum jaunt, I saw eight or so ladies waiting at the L'Enfant Plaza station, and man, they were DECKED OUT. They were wearing outfits of red and royal purple, in various combinations of tops and pants, but all of them loud. But the best parts were the hats, which were gi-normous and covered in things like feathers and sequins and big fake flowers, also in the theme of purple and red. One woman, the tamest of the bunch, had a purple visor with a big red rose hot-glued the top. I stared openly, there was no point in pretending I wasn't. I did at least shut my mouth so as not to be caught gaping.

Sunday, June 12, 2005

Things are nutty these days at the National Mall, aka the big green lawn that spans from the Capitol to the Washington Monument. There are hordes of tourists, although Sunday afternoon wasn't all that bad...maybe by that point the tourists that were in for the weekend were already starting to head home.

I went to the National Gallery to see the Toulouse-Latrec at Montmontre exhibit. Now, I know that sounds awfully arty of me, but then keep in mind that I've been meaning to see this exhibit since April and I just went on the very last possible day. And it was crowded, not surprisingly. I didn't really get all that annoyed, because I had mentally prepared myself for lots of people...not without some self-criticism ("this is why I shouldn't put things off!!"). One thing that was unexpected: I miss Paris. A lot.

In looking at all of the great lithographs and paintings of people and Montmartre, a wave of homesickness for a city I only lived in for a few months just tackled me, right in the middle of the museum. I miss Paris and its winding, tiny streets with patisseries and crepe stands; and artists standing around and drawing people and buildings; and sidewalk cafes with good strong French coffee; and speaking French and knowing my way around the world's best Metro system; and the beautiful bridges that span the Seine; and the incredible art galleries, especially the little ones that none of the tourists visit; and oh la...I miss Paris.

I realize this might sound a bit snotty, as if I'm writing about Paris like people name shampoo products with French sounding names to make them seem fancier. But French culture and living and people and food and just everything really got under my skin over a long period of time, not just when I was living there. And I don't think I really realized to what extent this had occurred (or maybe I just remembered again...) until this afternoon.

So, Paris in October, anyone?

Thursday, June 09, 2005


You should play on this site. So weird, and yet so funny. This one is my favorite:

Monday, June 06, 2005

A bit twisted

I have a new website to play on. Things are better when based on a Monty Python quote. Perhaps it is fortuitous considering that "Spamalot" won for Best Musical last night. Whatever. I am beyond amused:

Dear Ask the Fish,
Why does everyone hate emo kids? Is it a cultural thing, or just inside the minds of the emo kids? If you don't know what emo is, find out for yourself. I'll tell you that it's a style of music, but that's all.
-Your Mom

Dear Your,
There have always been tensions between emo kids and the outside world, dating back to the enslavement of the Ebrews by the Num Et-Al dynasty. Anti-emotism as we know it today can trace its origins back over many centuries to the time of the early Christians, who blamed emo kids for making Jesus weep outside Jerusalem by playing him a Dashboard Confessional bootleg. The Middle Ages saw the onset of the Inquisition, during which emo kids were forced under pain of torture and execution to renounce the wearing of black hooded sweatshirts and other traditional garb. By the 19th century, widespread anti-emo pogroms throughout Central and Eastern Europe and Russia drove emo kids to seek refuge in the New World; many undertook the perilous journey across the Atlantic with little more than a journal and a copy of Pinkerton that "she" gave them. Anti-emotism currently manifests itself under several sly guises, most notably the social acceptability of the sentiment that Conor Oberst needs his ass kicked. So why does everyone hate emo kids? Some scholars attribute it to a fear of the Other. Others suggest that specific religious and political doctrines seize upon anti-emotism to further their own specific agendas. But mostly it's because emo kids write into advice columns and ask questions like "why does everyone hate emo kids?" Ask a question like that, and you've pretty much already answered it, you skinny t-shirt-wearing nancy.

For the specific "Ask the Fish" see here:
Main site is:

If you now think that I'm perhaps too odd for you to be my friend, that's okay too. I'm busy laughing myself silly anyway.

Sunday, June 05, 2005


From C (on Friday, actually, but I just now remembered it):

"Do you often find yourself thinking that a monkey could do your job? But then do you also think, 'if a monkey could do it, why do I mess it up so much?'"

So true.

Wednesday, June 01, 2005


Does anyone else think it's ridiculous that G. Gordon Liddy is criticizing the man who came out as "Deep Throat" for being unethical? Um, YOU ENGINEERED THE WATERGATE BREAK-IN. YOU ARE THE DEFINITION OF UNETHICAL AND CORRUPT FOR AN ENTIRE GENERATION.

Whew, I feel a little better.

Oh, and let's not forget that Pat Buchanan said the whole thing started because they were a bunch of Nixon-haters. The whole reason behind the break-in was (I thought) that Nixon was completely paranoid, and apparently it was catching. "Oh no, it's not that we did things that were completely, no, no, they just didn't like us." Yeah, that's the ticket.

Reality TV

I kind of hate reality television. Not only does it leave me with a sort of icky feeling, but it's really just not even all that interesting.

Until "Supernanny." I think it's releasing all those pent up frustrations within me, the ones that I had to bury when watching other people's horrible children for money. Most of the kids I watched were actually pretty good, but there were enough of the bratty ones to be memorable. And on "Supernanny" you watch kids throwing fits and being disciplined. I can't tear myself away from it.