FU TLC (or I am not unlike Andy Rooney in my hatred of all things)

Saturday mornings, when the BF is out serving the public volunteering or other productive pursuits, I like to laze about in bed, swaddled in the down comforter, space heater pointed directly at my feet, and fire up some TLC so that I can catch what I missed Friday night, namely Say Yes to the Dress. There. Now you know my dirty secret. Right, so this bright Saturday morn, I click on the new flat screen and sure enough, there's Randy*, sobbing! And all is right with the world, except for one thing. We all know that Jon and Kate Plus has hit the skids and apparently Monday night is their final show (year right). TLC has chosen to inform everyone of this with a fucking annoying countdown at the bottom right of the screen. Great! Just what I want on a Saturday, something that tells me exactly how many hours, minutes and seconds until the weekend is over and then some. Thanks TLC dudes!

And then OU got punked by Texas Tech. In a related story, does anyone want my OU/OSU tickets for next weekend?

Also, I went to see 2012 with the BF and my mom because she wanted to go as part of her b-day weekend. OH MY SWEET LORD. I really have no words to express how ridonk this movie is. Worse than Bird on a Wire and Beverly Hills Cop III combined. It was a fucking insult. Good thing my mom paid. I'll leave you with three (one hyphenated) words: No more Pull-Ups™!

But, in a related story, Amanda Peet is my new (although I've suspected it for some time now) celebrity chick crush. Girlfriend went to Columbia, was in a Seinfeld episode, starred in a movie with Steve Zahn, has an adorable bebé, and can rock bangs like nobody's business.

Some good news: only two days of work this week! Yeehaw!


*This makes sense if you watch, like me. Oh, you don't? Because you're cool and have a life? Oh. Ok.

Guess what, homeskillet(s)?

I finally watched Juno. It took me longer than baby Juno's gestation, but I finally did it. And it wasn't easy, either. It was late, like 9.45pm on Monday night, which is about 45 minutes past my third grade bedtime, which is also my current bedtime. I didn't think I'd make it, but fortunately, my 184 Diet Cokes per day habit made it possible. I won't bother anyone with a review because it's old news, I just wanted it known that I finally bent to the will of Ellen Page and Michael Cera. And that stripper/writer chick. Or whatever.

Believe me, you don't have to be a pregnant teen to eat like that.

In other news, I spent almost all weekend thinking up terrible recipes that Sandra Lee (busty, blond "Semi-Homemade" chick on the Food Network) would perpetrate in any given situation. It's a wonderful way to pass the time when Shain goes shopping with you and hates everything that you show interest in whether you express it aloud or not. Let's say you've rented Juno and have decided to invite a few friends over to watch. Sandra would suggest dumping several cans of peas into a blender with onion soup mix for a special babyfoodesque treat to be served in adorable sippy cups. For the main course, abortion stew is started by dumping a bag of frozen, chopped onions, canned tomatoes, brown gravy mix, one bottle of beer, six quarts of the highest sodium beef broth you can find, 8 ounces shame, two cups of relief, and three pounds stew beef into a crockpot. Let the ingredients heat on low in the crockpot for no more than a trimester - you might want to complete this step in advance. In fact, why not pop in an Arrested Development DVD while you cook. The aborted series features two of the film's stars! To finish, top each heaping serving with a mixture of one jar mayonnaise, one container sour cream, one package taco seasoning mix, two tablespoons of bottled lemon juice and a dash of MSG. Sunny D cocktails - two ounces Sunny D, three shots of McCormick's tequila, ice, two tablespoons bottled lime juice, a dash each of A-1 and Tabasco - should be served in chilled baby bottles. To create a great tablescape, you need look no further than local resources! Simply stop by Planned Parenthood for condoms to toss down the center of the table, as a reminder. Check your own medicine cabinet for extra pregnancy tests from that last scare and line them up and down the center of the table to create a faux table runner. Cloth diapers will make wonderful napkins! Start up the movie and join your companions as they watch the witty banter fly faster than the Gilmore Girls without their Adderall on the bullet train.

Mmmmmmyeeeech.

Actual Sandra Lee recipe: Italian Beef

Zack Harrison Memorial Music Monday

Saturday night, in spite of my aforementioned condition, the BF arranged a little date chock full of what passes at culture here in the Sooner state. We made reservations for dinner and a movie at the Oklahoma City Museum of Art. The museum offers a prix-fixe menu and tickets package for NPR listening dorks like ourselves. The movie featured this week was "I'm Not There," the un-bio pic about not Bob Dylan, but yes. A few weeks ago, I saw "There Will Be Blood" as mentioned on this blog, not that anyone reads at this point. I wasn't sure how to react to the film. Was Daniel Plainwhatever really a bad guy? Was he the worst guy ever? Did the Radiohead dude steal his musical ideas from "Woman in the Dunes," a 1960s Japanese movie? In any event, the movie raised questions, made me think, made me squirm and all that shit, in the way a movie should. "I'm Not There" caused pretty much the same reaction, but in the way a movie shouldn't. From the moment it began, I couldn't wait for it to end. The film was so fucking inconsistent, and not in its narrative conventions, but in the choices the writer/director made about alternately hitting the viewer over the head with obvious retardedness then complete and purposeful cryptic crap. I wanted to like this movie. I expected to like it. However, it was utter crap, and I rarely say that. The only redeemable aspect, of course and obviously, was the inclusion of Dylan's music, in his own voice and through various covers. We could all wax interminably about Bob, so I will leave all of that to the pros. I will just mention a few songs that struck me and have continued to play in my head since the movie ended. Way too long after it began. I'm curious if others who have seen if share my reaction or think I'm completely off my (folk)rocker.

Download these:

Going to Acapulco - Jim James & Calexico: Sadly charming and perfectly haunting. Just when I think MMJ is a one trick pony, this collaboration revives my love for both groups.

Just Like A Woman - Charlotte Gainsbourg with Calexico: Charlotte was also in the movie, portraying Dylan's estranged wife, Sara. She's the only character who was even remotely compelling. Her breathy rendition of maybe my favorite (albeit everyone's) Dylan song quietly wrings the sexism out of the lyrics.

Lay Lady Lay - Bob Dylan: Ok, I lied. This is my favorite Dylan song. I shall dust of Nashville Skyline.

Positively 4th Street - Johnny Rivers: What's not to like?

One More Cup Of Coffee - The White Stripes: I wonder if Bob ever wished he sang better, or at least had a voice just as distinct, but in a tolerable way.

Simple Twist of Fate - Jeff Tweedy: Oh dear. Involuntary emotional surge during the last verse. Heart hurts. Also, isn't nice to actually understand the lyrics for once?

The Lonesome Death of Hattie Carroll - Mason Jennings: I bet Jennings wished he wrote this.

In other news: other songs I like at the moment.

Harvester of Hearts - Rufus Wainwright: Happy V-Day!

At 7 - Britta Persson: I hate that I find myself drawn to songs like this. Blech. Yay!

Mother's Child - Crystal Moustache: Weird5000.

Lake Erie - Nat Baldwin: This guy's from the Dirty Projectors, not that you couldn't have figured it out.

New Soul - Yael Naim: Yes, this is in a MacBook commercial. Blow me. It's still a great song.

More Cover Mania!

In The Aeroplane Over The Sea - Matt Pond PA: Never gets old, no matter who's doing it.

Thirteen - Wilco: This song breaks my heart over and over again. There's an Elliot Smith version as well, which literally makes me tear up.

Always On My Mind - Ryan Adams: I'm still waiting for my ex-boyfriend to dedicate this to me.

I am so out of touch with everything:

2080 - Yeasayer: It turns out this is pretty interesting. There's definitely a Beach Boys resurgence happening. (Besnard Lakes, Cass McCombs, and others, I would say.)

Oh, also, of course, I bought the Vampire Weekend full length album. Even my dad loves it.