A lack of blogging

…not because there is nothing to blog about. On the contrary, there are loads of things I’ve been meaning to share, but a change in my work environment makes daytime blogging infinitely more challenging. Why not just do it at home in the evenings like a responsible person? Look, it’s hard to argue with you when you won’t stop making sense. BACK OFF! No, sorry, please don’t.
Currently the things I feel most strongly in need of sharing (in ascending order of importance):

Thank Effing God the Yankees won last night. MH and I constantly play the “If X = Y, then T = D” game, wherein X is the current batter, Y is the desired result of the at-bat, usually a homerun, T is some form of reward and D is usually an alcoholic beverage. So it’s normally, “If Derek Jeter hits a homerun right here I’m going out and getting ingredients for margaritas”. And A-Rod’s top of the 9th two out at-bat would have been an IDEAL opportunity for this game, but unfortunately we were thoroughly convinced that a lead squandered is a lead lost and so were watching the MTV Movie Awards instead at the time.

Which brings me to point the second: was it me or was Mike Myers disturbingly hot in the black tie/black shirt combo doing his Austin Powers dance? I was a little distracted by the threat of Cam Diaz’s crotch coming out to attack, but DAMN. Boyfriend was kind of working it. As was maybe Shia LeBoef and he is at least 20 by now, plus I have heard rumors that he’s fibbing about his actual age so don’t look at me that way.

WHICH in turn brings me to my most significant point, WRT to “working it” and hot guys. Obvies I have been enjoying Milo Ventimiglia as Possessor of Emo Bangs of Hotness Peter Petrelli on Heroes. So much so, that he even looks better to me in old eps of Gilmore Girls (specifically, the sprinkler scene and the much later Jess-gets-his-shit-together last time we see him). But nothing really prepared me for this:

HE HAS NO RIGHT TO LOOK THAT GOOD. I'm just saying.
I might possibly enjoy this song, and Fergie’s oeuvre as a whole, despite her often tragic fashion choices. (A porkpie hat...that just hurts.) I often spend my small window of free/napping time in the mornings flipping between MTV and VH1 because at that ungodly hour they actually show music videos. Seriously though you guys, ever since I first saw this vid, all I do is obsessively check back and forth waiting for this video to play. And does it? No! I get Pink (which, Ok but the song is better enjoyed on the radio), Kelly Clarkson (which, awesome) and simultaneous Carrie Underwood on both channels (COME ON!) but no greasy-ponytail-wearing, fake-tattoo-sporting, HOTTER THAN FIRE MV have I seen in the last two weeks. I know that this is why God invented YouTube, but for reals, MTV. I need a pick-me-up in the morning – make mine a Venti.

Delinquent!

Darn, and I was doing so well! Sorry to have skipped yesterday, especially considering that as I was caught up on Heroes, Gilmore Girls and AI, there is no excuse not to have posted. PLUS, I have an iTunes roulette all loaded and ready to go that promises to be fun for all. So I’ll just share a few thoughts on Heroes for now, and if I get inspired (read: bored) later in the day, maybe come back with the AI thoughts.
Heroes was predictably great – I’m so happy NOT to be involved in any fandom for this show. It’s infinitely more enjoyable to just sit back and let the fun wash over me, rather than jumping in with timeline and characterization nitpicks. So with that in mind, my main observations:
WTF is the deal with Malcolm McDowell’s beard? If you look closely at it (NOT RECOMMENDED) it’s like the Target bulls-eye with a circle of hair, and then a circle of clean-shaven lip and chin and then his mouth. Ok, I’m really skeeving myself out here. Point being, dude needs no help turning the Creep-O-Meter up to 11. When Eric Roberts is on your show and you’re STILL the scary one….
Could Adrian Pasdar rock any harder? Answer: no, he could not. Plus he’s married to Natalie Maines, y’all! I love his voice – it’s almost high-pitched and gravelly at the same time. Petrelli for president, no doubt. Well, except maybe for that whole blowing-up-NYC thing. Not so much down with that.
Finally, I am so psyched for 5-years-from-now-Claire’s brown hair! What, I told you I just sit back and let the fun (and the pretty) wash over me. You want deep, analytical insight, Erin is your girl.

From the Archives

Something I'd like to start as a regular Friday feature, when I'm clearly too lazy to post new content: From the archives - the best of my ramblings, rants and observations from the past year or so that never made it to the pages of My Life as a Latte. For today's inaugural FtA, cast yourself back to May 2006, when the once brilliant, twisty and addictive Alias brought the crazy, broken-down roller coaster to a completely ridiculous finish:

Just finished watching the last 4 eps of Alias ever...yeah...there were some problems:

a) Tom and Rachel plot = WORSE than Wallace and Jackie. And that's saying A LOT. Maybe if I had seen the beginning of this season and had the faintest inkling of who they were, I might have cared. But I doubt it. Did she sleep with Sark earlier in the season? Lucky bitch.
b) OMGIRINAISEEEEEVIL = not so much, JJ. Seriously, this is your big "twist"? Your shocking "reveal"? I'm sorry; did we go back three years? Who the hell is surprised by this anymore? Oh, wait, I know – NO ONE.
c) My motto for the last, oh I don't know, four hours of the show: FUH. KING. SHOOT. HIM. (or her) Sydney has Sloane at gunpoint. Or her mom. Vaughn has Sark at gunpoint. Even when SydAnna had real Sydney trapped under the car wreck. WHY WOULD SHE LIGHT THE CAR ON FIRE INSTEAD OF JUST SHOOTING HER???
d) Rambaldi's big secret = eternal life. I don't have a font big enough for this – DUH. What the hell else would it have been? Just, duh.

Only Jack was truly awesome, no surprise there. And Erin is right; the Vaughn baby faces were amazing. I do have to give props to Garner and Vartan, they still have great chemistry despite their off-screen issues.
One last thing about Alias and then we are moving on (because we are people with lives. Hee. As if). I ruined an entire load of laundry not by “soiling” it, as I’m sure Kristin would say but because my ears started BLEEDING when Sydney was all, “That’s the last time I trust/stick up for/give a millionth chance to Sloane/my mom. I believed him/her before but I’m not going to make that mistake again because…” and that’s all I got because my ears were filled with BOILING HOT BLOOD. Know when that would have been a good idea? THREE FUCKING YEARS AGO. Now, I love me some Ron Rifkin and he and Victor Garber have some kick-ass chemistry/tension in their scenes. But it is simply beyond any plausibility that Syd and Jack would have gone back to work for Sloane this whole time and then they’re like, well, shit, turned out he WAS bad all along. Our bad. TOTALLY not going to make that mistake again. For real, you guys.

as promised

Chris R is like that one friend of your boyfriend (read: Blake) who you can’t stand. Eventually, he wears you down to the point of tolerance, and occasionally forgetting why you ever hated him in the first place. Then he gets way too drunk, per usz, at a party and it all comes rushing back. You’re not surprised at his obnoxious behavior, but you are a little mad at yourself for being so generous in your earlier assessment. And then, just when your opinion of him is its nadir, he goes and hits on your younger cousin.
Happily, your boyfriend chooses this opportunity to sing pretty much your favorite song ever to enter the orbit of Country Night on American Idol, so all is forgiven. Seriously, when I heard that Blake was doing “When the Stars Go Blue”, I gasped so loud that I hiccupped. Sure, the vocal wasn’t awesome, but an argyle sweater vest goes a long way towards making everything wonderful.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

In other news, I caught Grey Gardens on Broadway last night. Good news: I had bitchin' seats that were free. Bad news: zzzzzzz. Christine Ebersole is great, I guess...Matt Cavenaugh is still wicked hot...and that wraps up today's portion of Broadway Theatre Performance Dramatical Review. Tune in next week* for my stirring critique of two shows sure be duking it out for Best Revival: Chorus Line and Company. Dancers who can't really sing vs. Singers/musicians who can't really act. Tough call!



*not really. Well, please do tune in, but not for that specific topic.

Nasally is a form of singing

And dickweed is a common species of reality-show contestant. More on Chris R to come.

Later, schmater

You waited a long-ass time for any kind of updates, so who am I to be coy? Here then is the David Brent vs. Michael Scott deliberation, only a year or so too late to be timely:


David Brent vs. Michael Scott: Would You Rather…?

Here is the basic timeline of my Office-obsession: Had watched and enjoyed the BBC version on BBC America back in the day. Definitely found it funny, awkward, etc. Even back then, I remember observing that it got better upon rewatch because when you know what’s coming, you can sit back and just laugh. Knowing exactly what horrible, offensive, racist, sexist (or special combination of all of them) thing David was going to do or say took the edge off.
Then came the American Office. Blah blah blah sacrilege, hopeless, didn’t-they-learn-from-Coupling-cakes. Turns out it is a-MAY-zing! (TM Kelly Kapoor). I bought both S1 and S2 DVDs after Thanksgiving last year and burned through them in less than 2 weeks. Then I bought all of the S3 eps I had missed on iTunes. And the addiction was born. I will spare you the true force of my shippiness; suffice to say that in my world, JG = Jammy Goodness and it is something I require soon (PAGING GREG DANIELS). But that is not what this post is about.
Clearly, they made conscious choices with the America Office to differentiate it from the BBC version. Arguably, the biggest deviation is the portrayal of everyone’s fearless leader, Michael Scott. Go back to S1 and he has more of the jerky, self-centeredness that was David Brent’s core. Since then he has evolved into an awkward, oftentimes clueless schmuck who nevertheless has good intentions in his heart. Almost everything he does, from embarrassing routines through almost ruining Phyllis’ wedding, comes from a desperate need to be loved and validated. Because we are shown this soft underbelly and the occasional, unexpected moments when Michael actually does not fuck something up, we root for him. Steve Carrell is simply too nice a guy to believably play an irredeemable asshole for any extended period of time.
I’m absolutely in favor of this tonal shift; I think it makes the show funnier overall and certainly more palatable for American audiences. However (OMG, a point to all of this) because we root for Michael Scott, it makes it *worse* knowing when he is about to do or say something awful. I promise you, I wouldn’t willingly sit through Gay Witch Hunt again without fast-forwarding through the Michael-Oscar kiss. In fact, 99% of the time when I rewatch an episode (which is at least once every week and sometimes more than once) I have to skip the Michael bits.
I recently re-watched Series 1 of the BBC Office and found myself actually looking forward to the worst of David Brent. He is such a spectacular trainwreck, and Ricky Gervais just owns Un!Comfortable! like no one else, that it is more fun to root against David. Not in a vindictive, hope-he-gets-fired kind of way, but in a gleeful, my god, what else could possibly happen to make this worse way? Which is I think ¾ of the appeal of Sanjaya.

I know you miss me blind

Srsly, you guys, I am back. I know, I know, I've made this promise to both of us before and failed miserably, but I think this time it could be different. That, or you won’t hear from me again till July. But, let’s be glass half full for now, and jump right in to the good stuff:
General update: Veronica Mars = down the crapper. Rob Thomas, I trusted you. I believed in you. I freaking flew to Texas for you. And what do I get in return? A wasted premise, the disappearance of previously-vital characters (Where’s Wallace?) and a lame, desperate premise intended to “reboot” the show for a 4th season. Let’s hope not. MOVING ON!
The Office = my current obsession. You knew I would have at least one. OMG JAM SQUEE, etc, etc. I am also re-watching the BBC Office and have a longer David Brent vs. Michael Scott theory to post…later. Remind me.
Also still fixated on: Max from Grease: You’re The One That I Want. (Boy is that ever annoying to type out). Loved the show, natch, though would have enjoyed more actual showtunes and less Austin Miller. Now that Max is bouncing around NYC, I am DETERMINED to meet him. It will happen.
It is me, or is everyone obsessed with cover songs lately? SPD, my blogger crush, has started a regular Under The Covers segment. MOKB has their insane Covers Project, where they post every available version of one particular song. Because you need more than, say, 5 versions of Hallelujah in your life. Maybe it’s like how once you learn a new word, you start seeing everywhere, or how certain commercial actors will be in 5 different spots all at the same time, but now that I have covers on the brain, it seems I can’t get away from them.
Just so you know, my plan is to start posting brief recaps after shows I watch. I figure it will at least get me back in the habit of recording my inane ramblings. Hey, so far I have managed to stick to my New Year’s resolution of bringing lunch to work instead of buying every day, so there’s hope! Fine, complete disclosure: I only started doing it last week. But so far, so good!
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