We used to be friends a long time ago...

Just kidding!  We're still friends, Veronica Mars!  After exhausting the obvious Netflix watch instantly choices, we decided to start Veronica Mars from the beginning.  It's a Rob Thomas show and he's the dude that did Starz's Party Down* series, so we thought, what the hay.  Also, I watched part of the last season when it aired and remembered it being pretty rad, for what it was.  Right, so about 30 hours later, we're halfway through season two and I.Am.Hooked.  This shit is awesome!  Thanks to yet another snow day (day 5.5 of the year - holy crap), we're knee deep in mystery!  Yay!  I just needed to share my TV joy.  Thanks.

*If you have not yet watched Party Down, you must.  It's hi-larious.  Its Netflix presence is elusive, but worth it.  Not sure why they insist on posting the seasons in random pieces, but try anyway.

BREAKING NEWS

I interrupt this program to bring you the following announcement: TINA FEY ACTUALLY LOOKS GOOD. T-Fey usually Lemons* her fancy outfits but good, however, at the Emmys last night, she looked particularly fabulous. Well played, personal idol.



*see how I did that?

TV Math

=

All I do is watch 30 Rock, Parks & Recreation and IASIP. I am awesome, I know.

Well, it's official.

Parks and Recreation is actually good now. Really good. Well done, Poehler. Well done.

Well, when the hell did this happen?

I'm now addicted to yet another Bravo show. I held my own against Top Chef for years, years! But alas, I am hooked. Team Carla!*

*I have not watched the end of tonight's episode, so please do not tell me what happens unless it involves Jamie packing up her bitch knives and heading back to asshole land.

Live Blogging the Grammy Awards

6.58pm - Oh, the Grammy's are on? Does that mean there will be new episodes of The Office? What day is it?

7.02 - Boring. Boring. Boring.

7.34 - Boring. Amy Crackhouse wins again.

sometime in between - Beyonce booty shaking like a maniac with an old lady wearing a skin-tight space suit made of foil aka Tina Turner.

8.11 - Boring. Where's Cracky Whorehouse?

9.02 - Why do I know all of the words to "That Old Black Magic?" The BF is looking at me strangely as he puts in ear plugs.

9.05 - They're showing Dexter on CBS?

9.09 - I love me some Stevie Wonder, but the guy needs a sighted stylist.

9.12 - The BF's fart is more exciting than Alicia Keys' performance.

9.18 - Kanye just got told! By Vince Gill! Not even Vince Neil! Don't fuck with Oklahomans.

9.41 - There she is. She makes Nicole Richie look fat. She's also wearing the inside of a Victorian casket. Pretty...

9.forever - Boring.

And the winner is...

Dear David Simon, I would like my life back.

The Wire, the much acclaimed HBO drama, is slowly sucking what little life I have during this holiday season out of me. If you haven't yet enjoyed, I encourage you to Netflix it and settle in while it's all shitty outside. It's kind of heavy, but sometimes irreverent and most likely always more accurate than we'd like to think. It's gritty in the best way, simultaneously infuriating and heartbreaking. Kind of like Christmas.

Holy balls,

I might possibly have the worst hangover of my long and storied history of hangovers (How did I sustain this hangover? Two words. Beer pong. And also bars. And peer pressure. And dancing around in a garage to Curtis Mayfield.). Not even McDonald's (my disgusting hangover remedy, whatevs, you do it too) has helped, in fact, I think it hurt. Definitely hurt. All I have managed to do today is smear last night's mascara all over my pillows, give my self a rash from drooling during intermittent and involuntary naps while watching Planet Earth in a whimpering pile buried beneath my comforter trying not to vom. But you know what? It can't feel as bad KU must feel about now. Or OSU for that matter. Gundy, I thought you were a "man." And Mangina, looks like your easy ass schedule finally caught up with you. We will beat you, Mizzou, and then we're on our way to the Preparation H Fidelity Nabisco Taco Cabana FedEx/Kinkos Diet Coke with Lemon Halliburton Bowl! Which is not the championship, but oh well.

In which this blog is not unlike the Sooners: A post in three or some number of parts.

Act I: The season started out so promising. We had a little bit of trouble with a little bit of Colorado. But then, good news! Everyone started sucking balls! Now, including us. WTF, man. Sam! Halzle! Jesus Christ on a stick. Or whatever. I can't even talk about it. Really, I can't. Except, WTF are we paying you for, Stoops? To lose to effing Texas Tech? I don't think so. Kansas, ok, maybe because, ostensibly, they are as good as we are. Tech?!?@$*(@ You might have led us to a championship, but you've also presided over some of our worst losses. Nut up, dude. De-red shirt someone. Ask someone from the crowd to be the quarterback - like the guy who throws it through the target to win $1000 from Jason White's dealership. I can't wait to lose to OSU this week. If you don't hear from me by Wednesday of next week... A malaise fell over Norman Saturday night that not even $2.50 Shiners could and L's dad's Grateful Dead (The Jamminators!) cover band could cure. Oh, how the mighty will fall. Like this blog. One minute I'm nominted for an Oklahoma Blogger award™, the next, Sitemeter reveals that only five people read. And by people I mean Google searches for "Zach Braff's tight pants."

Part II: I can't believe I forgot to mention this! Last weekend, I left my neighborhood at about 7 to grab coffee at Starfucks before Shain and I headed of to judge a high school debate tourney (suck it). I should mention, it was exceptionally foggy this morning. Like, can't see anything. I approach the intersection where I need to make a right. I have a green light. As I'm gently nudging the gas, suddenly, this bike flies across through the intersection causing me to slam on my brakes (I wasn't going that fast, but still) and I come eye to eye with - guess! Wait for it, the exbf's mom! I almost ran her over! Ha! I mean, oops.

C) I have a habit of singing in the bathroom at work because, well, the acoustics are fucking fantastic in there. The lighting makes me look like old school Courtney Love, but the tiles make me sound like Kelly Clarkson. I wasn't really aware that my voice carried beyond the bathroom till I walked out and was greeted by a coworker who suggested, humorously, I choose to believe, that I save it for karaoke night. I'll show you karaoke.

4: Zack Harrison Memorial Music Monday! - This is my latest commute mix.

Oh My God - Mark Ronson and Lily Allen: Oh my God I can't believe I like this song.
A Baby For Pree - Neutral Milk Hotel: What does it even mean?
The Anglo-Saxons - The Mountain Goats: Remember that cartoon show about history? I can't remember the name, but it was pretty much awesome.
I'd Love You - Sonya Kitchell: I would.
Superstar - Lupe Fiasco: I am.
Scattered Leaves - The Be Good Tanyas: This chick sounds like Shakira. But I like it anyway.
Mornington Crescent - Belle & Sebastian: This one's for you, Shain. Thanks for abandoning me. No, really.
The Temptation of Adam - Josh Ritter: Seriously! Why am I just getting into this guy now?
Blue Eleanor - Old Canes: I dunno. Just like it.
Needles in My Eyes - Beta Band: Puts me in a happy trance.
Oh Lately It's So Quiet - Ok Go: These guys are more than just a treadmill dance troupe.
Arcade Precinct - 1990s: What? Yeah, it's kind of awful.
Mansard Root - Vampire Weekend: Surprise! I'm in love with this! And they're coming to Norman!
Hold On - KT Tunstall: Yes. This has been or will be used in a comical montage featuring McDreamy, George, Izzie, and/or Addison. Blow me.

Section 5.1.3: The WGA and corporate TV America have got us by the balls. And we are letting them. Did you know that The Office is probably over for the season? The last new episode aired last week. Scrubs might not finish the series (Will JD and Elliot end up together? Will we ever meet Kelso's Edith? I just have to know!). And so on and so on with shows from Comedy Central to the CW. And we are letting them. So, I propose a strike against TV in general. Fuck them! We can read! Knit! Ride bikes! Smoke weed and look at fish tanks! Poetry readings! Concerts! Shows! Blogs! TV? We don't need no stinkin' TV. I'm totally serious. Until The Real Housewives of Orange Cunty are on. I love that show.

Act VI: Happy Birthday Mom! You said you don't read, but I know you do. I'm glad you were born so you could bear me.

Zack Harrison Memorial Music Monday Except On A Tuesday & About TV Instead Of Music

Yeah, so this blog has been sucking hard core lately (and not in a good way). I know. You don't have to humor me (Shain). It turns out I'm quite terrible at balancing more than a couple of things in my life that require more than the attention span of your average Hills character. Also, my writer's off striking for the WGA and has been preparing for about a month. In support, I thought I'd come up with a list of TV shows to watch as the reruns will most likely begin at some point. Unfortunately, this blog will go into reruns too, so get ready for that post about how thongs make my butt hurt any day now. Or should I say fortunately? Semantics. Anyway, so clear out the old episodes of Law & Order:SVU and Good Eats, then get to your Netflix queue before the rest of America does. I think we're in this for the long haul.

Friday Night Lights - Duh! This show rocks my figurative balls off. Catch up and catch on.

Freaks and Geeks - Duh squared.

Arrested Development - Yeah, I've seen each season about four times each, but maybe this I won't be so stoned and/or buzzed that I'll remember. That I've made a huge mistake. By watching without being, well, you know.

The Wire - Maybe it's time to see what all the fuss is about.

The War - Dear Ken Burns, you went to Hampshire, so I feel compelled to be in your corner. For 15 hours.

Weeds - Mary Louise Parker is smoldering. Conrad is just ridiculous. Elizabeth Perkins is the best. Kevin Nealon isn't just for Weekend Update.

The British Office - And for good luck, Extras. Kate Winslet dressed up like a nun trying to lick her own nipple gets me every time.

My So Called Life - Mrs. Jordan Catalano. Someday, someday... I wish my hair smelled like oranges.

49 Up, etc. - Who doesn't love a good British documentary?

Well, it's a start. Questions? Comments? Concerns? Contributions? I think I might have to upgrade my Netflix account. The last strike went on for 22 weeks, or the amount of time I go between hair cuts. Date me! If you need me, I'll be buried under my comforter with my remote.

It's not me, it's me.

I've got a secret to reveal. You might be shocked to know that I've been in a relationship for some time now. It started off really sweetly - you know, just hanging out, laughing, liking ALL the same things, blah blah blah - it was amazing, I was in love. But recently, I dunno, I'm just not feeling it. Things are kind of getting a little stale. For example, the other night, we went to bed at 9.38pm and we were happy about it. Last night, we hung out and did laundry while drafting a spreadsheet of our fall TV viewing schedule and balancing the books to see if we can afford the 80 hour TiVo. (Seriously, how am I supposed to watch all of this? Contenders are: Lost, Pushing Daisies, Dirty Sexy Money, Weeds, Dexter, Tell Me You Love Me, It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia, The Office, 30 Rock, How I Met Your Mother, Cash Cab, Tim Gunn's Style Guide, South Park, Everything on the Food Network, The Sarah Silverman Program and of course, According to Jim.). Right, anyway, I'm bored. Restless. We never go out anymore. I mean, we go out, but it's just not the same because you always have to be home early because you have a "job" now or something. And we're constantly disagreeing over my drinking limit. We never do anything fun anymore, unless you count internet research about which kind of multi-vitamin I should be taking or silently reading back issues of Newsweek at Panera Bread over a bowl of French onion soup on a rainy Thursday night. Basically, this isn't working for me anymore - and I hate to do this in public, but, self, we're breaking up. I think we need some time to remember what brought us together in the first place. I'm pretty sure it was excess booze, loose morals, cream sauces and TMZ.com. Let's take this time apart to remember why we were together, ok? It's really important to me that we stay friends. I really care about you. Ok, good talk.

It's Friday, I'm In Love

with Anthony Bourdain.

I am a food junkie.

[I refuse to say "foodie" because then I just feel fat and/or like I should own cats and/or live with my husband on the outskirts of a large city, whom I met in grad school (I am studying 18th century French poetry, he is an engineer, natch) in the cookbook section (he is wearing Tevas with socks, I am sporting a scrunchie) of a local bookstore on a Friday night because we're both too nerdy to be invited out, well, sometimes we're invited out, but it's to another grad school friend's house and we're going to watch a foreign film then take one hit from someone's old roommate's (whom they hated, obvs) bong and pretend we're stoned, but really go home and read Kafka. Now that we're married, we go to Whole Foods to purchase overpriced salmon and wines we read about Married Grad Students Monthly and have our friends over for a night of Cranium and slide show of our pics from our honeymoon/research trip to Ecuador. Yes, I am jealous of you people. And I love Cranium.]

Right, so I'll eat anything. The exbf, for better or worse, ingrained this in me - well, demanded it of me, if I didn't, we'd have GINORMOUS fights (in restaurants/international markets/where ever, but always in public) that resulted in me crying AND eating chocolate dipped pickled tripe, or how I learned to stop crying and love the food. I have eaten a lot of stuff most would classify as "not fit for a toilet," but I really get off on it. Actually, I get off on it to the point of being a total snob in the face of normal things like Kraft Dinner or Lil ' Smokies. I'd rather eat an insect than a not all beef hot dog. Mind you, I'm not saying this makes me better than you, in fact, it makes me worse than you. As usual. This whole thing worked pretty well for me until I made the move back to OK. Now there is limited sushi, no credible Indian food and negligible Thai cuisine (well, that I can find), no fish monger or butcher shop, one gigantimous Asian market, but no one who will eat soft shell crab with me.

Anyway, I was a fan of food shows before (ask me anything about Ina Garten, Bobby Flay or gray salt), but now I am obsessed. No Reservations totally gets my rocks off. Anthony, with his unruly, graying hair and skin tight threadbare shirts clinging to a body that belies the chef in him leads the viewer through culinary calling cards and delicacies from Paris to cook smoke filled shacks in China - all while smoking 8,592 cigarettes and mildly toasted. It is only natural that I should be in love. Watch it. You'll see.

Also, he wrote Kitchen Confidential (one of my favorite memoirs) which unabashedly describes his ascension into culinary society through a haze of booze, drugs and rotten fish (you will rethink the idea of brunch - for a while anyway), but not in a way that leaves you thinking he knows he's too cool for school. The chaotic and nomadic lives of those who make up the underbelly of America's kitchens is better than any reality TV show. But of course, someone tried to make the book into a TV show starring my beloved Bradley Cooper, and of course, it failed. Boo.

Maybe someday I will see you at the Siberia Bar, but until then, I will watch you on my tiny TV. Alone. Oh so alone.

Things I Don't Like, But Feel I Should.

As the workload increases, I've found myself hard up for new material. Also, I am leading an exceedingly boring life minus some minor excitement over TV shows, overly indie music and deep fried food items (jalepeno poppers!!!). Goulet Wednesday is on hiatus because I am boycotting Nicole Rchie's pregnancy. I would like to see the Harry Potter movie today, but I don't think I can convince anyone to go with me. This got me to thinking about how if I wanted to see Transformers, I could round up some people easily, but the thing is, I don't want to see Transformers, and a small part of me feels badly about that. A small part of me also enjoys dipping bacon in ranch dressing, but that's not the point. The point is, I actually feel culturally guilty for not appreciating the following:

Transformers
Yup. Another shitty live action movie denegrating my memory of the toys of my youth. There have been posts ad nauseum, so I will spare you, but have we forgotten The Flintstones? I do not want to see this, yet I feel compelled to pretend that I do. But I don't and you can't make me.**

The Doors
Listening to The Doors makes me want to kill myself, and not in a good way. Randy would say Jim's pitchy and I would say he flat out sucks. Val Kilmer makes the whole thing worse. But, much like The Who, I feel as if I should revere them.

Dane Cook
Wearing bedazzled True Religion jeans while spitting into a microphone does not make you funny. I dunno. There's something so douche about this douche.

College Basketball
I would love to be all up in that shit, but I just don't have it in me. I am spent from college football, which I only half love.

That Bowl Thingy from KFC
It combines all of my favorite things in the world, yet together, totally nasty.

** This movie does make me think about how I wish everyday things had the power to transform. e.g. when my mom busts into my room my one hitter turns into a high paying job.

Wine, Jidges, Bees, Song, Jeans

Wine: I've had a few glasses of wine. So sue me. I needed it for the baked polenta with mushrooms I made tonight for tomorrow night's dinner. Yeah, that's how I roll - I'm a regular Rachael Fucking Delish Ray. And since you asked, I am a kickass cook. According to me. Come eat dinner at my house. You will like it. On the menu for the past few days/weeks/whatever it all runs together when you're lonely and hungry (oh, and all made from scratch): Swedish meatballs, linguine with shrimp, parsley and garlic, chicken breasts stuffed with ham and gruyere, lentil soup, shrimp baked with feta, eggplant and tomatoes, chicken tortilla soup, grilled tequila lime cilantro chicken, blah blah blah. Yummo!

Jidges: I am totally and completely obsessed with So You Think You Can Dance. I am pretty much living Wednesday to Wednesday with unmemorable blog comments and a few (20) beers stuck in between. You have read about BreakUp06 ad nauseum, so you know that I have only cried three times since that fateful day. Well, now it's four. Tonight, when Shauna and Cedric performed Mia Michael's choreography and Debbie Allen was yelling and Mary was disappointed and Nigel was British and Mia was crying and Cedric's lips were quivering, I felt a tear - a real one. I told Lacey it was my allergies (she has a new kitten I have named Santino/Jerry Garcia), but damn it all if I didn't sniffle a bit/lot. And then, and then, Jaimie and Hok (hello most adorable baby pictures ever!) bust out some vintage Wade Robson moves which compelled him to grab his wife's hand and get all wattery eyed when the jidges began their critique. Fuck. This is only week three.

I want to marry you Wade Robson, but you already have a lady. You too, Mia, but you probably already have a lady.

I think SYTYCD should allow an audience member to select a song for Wade (sorry Mia) to choreograph tomorrow's group performance. I think that audience member should be me and the song should be



Bees: I am a worker bee! That is the lamest not joke ever. But seriously, I started the new job today. You can beat me up now, because I have insurance again! But, I will fight back with my ID card and my new office and my new name plate thingy. I am already in the directory. Yay! I can go to a gym now. I can legitimately bitch about shit. I have work study kids to do my bidding. Yay!

Song: Some people are addicted to meth (Shain), some are addicted to WOW (Alex), but I am addicted to playing the same song over and over and over again until I am singing along, but realize it's not playing and I'm in the grocery store. I cannot stop listening to this song. There's something about Jenny Lewis' voice and the lyrics that is so plaintive I can feel my heart break a little bit. And it feels kinda good.

Does He Love You - Rilo Kiley

Jeans: Fuck You Seven For All Mankind piece of shit jeans. First of all, you were obscenely expensive. I mean, I could've bought a PS3. Ok, more like an iPod Shuffle. I wear you once, then you get completely stretched out, which I initially enjoy because you delude me into thinking I am skinny for about two hours before you slowly start falling down my ass revealing my crack. Then I have to wash and dry you, only to be disappointed again, but I can't get rid of you because you cost so effing much.

Because if I don't laugh, I will probably cry

not for any particular reason, just in general. Also, I'm trying to join The Shitty Bloggers Club, so there's that.

Last night was my first Sunday A.T. I've decided I'm not watching John From Cincinnati because I really don't like Cincinnati, so don't even ask. Entourage totally stepped up to the plate last night. There was no Lloyd, but that's ok because Billy Walsh was fucking brilliant. I'm wearing a scarf/turban as we speak. Word on the street is that the rest of the season starts sucking when the boys return to LA, but last night was pretty sweet.

After that I stuck around for the premiere of Flight of the Conchords. I've been listening to them for a while now and was thrilled about the prospect of a show. The show's been getting a lot of mixed reviews, but I thought I'd give it a shot. I found it to be quite hilarious. I might be the only one. I have what some have called "a retarded sense of humor" so I don't know if I count. Also, Bret is adorable. Just adorable. My favorite song is Jenny. My brother and I can do it in parts. It's pretty great. No, really.



Since I was already on the couch, I settled in for the Robot Chicken Star Wars Marathon thingy. It was a little slice of heaven. I laughed so hard I almost puked, mostly because I was hungover, but also because it was fucking hilarious. Just watch. Trust me.